The One We Fell in Love With by Paige Toon (20)

Chapter 24

Eliza

‘I’m on the second floor,’ Angus says when I call him to let him know that I’ve arrived at Hotel Gotham. ‘I’ll meet you by the lift.’

The ‘Batman’ building looks just like something that you’d find in one of the comics, an imposing stone and steel neoclassical design with arched art deco windows and even gargoyles on the roof.

Angus appears a moment after I step out of the lift. ‘Hey,’ he says warmly, his eyes widening. ‘You look amazing.’ He comes over to give me a peck on my cheek.

When Michelle and I checked out the hotel’s website earlier, we saw that a lot of people make an effort to dress up. She convinced me to wear a 30s-inspired black dress from her wardrobe with my own high heels, but I stopped short of doing my hair in an up-do, instead blow-drying it to within an inch of its life so it falls glossily down my back.

‘So do you,’ I say with surprise. I was expecting him to be wearing his usual jeans and T-shirt, but he’s donned smart black trousers and a white shirt, rolled up to his elbows with the top button open. His dark-blond hair is still a shaggy mess, though.

‘Thought I’d make a bit of an effort to look less like the layabout that I actually am,’ he whispers conspiratorially. ‘Believe it or not, I’ve got a tie and suit jacket for later.’ He glances towards the corridor where his room is and then checks his watch. It’s almost five. ‘Do you want to go straight up to the bar?’ he asks.

‘Er, sure.’ I’m curious to see his room, but maybe I’ll get to have a look later.

That thought leads to another and a blush creeps up my throat as we step back into the lift.

The hotel used to be the Midland Bank building and there are nods to its financial history throughout, with bags of fake money holding back the doors and, Angus tells me, toiletries resting on blocks of fake gold in the bathrooms. The restaurant has beautiful arched windows with views out over the city, but the rooftop bar is what really takes my breath away. Manchester’s skyline is spectacular, and you can also sit right behind one of the gargoyles.

‘What time did you check in?’ I ask when we’ve ordered our drinks and sat down on a black bench seat, our backs resting against the outer walls of the grey-stone building. The sun is still high in the sky.

‘About an hour ago. I’ve just been on the bed, reading.’

‘What’s your room like?’ I ask.

‘Very opulent. And there are Batman-shaped biscuits in a cookie jar.’

‘Cool!’

‘You can come and have one along with a cup of posh tea later if you like.’ He says it casually and doesn’t blush like I do at the thought of us being alone together in his room.

‘So what have you been up to?’ he asks.

‘Joe called!’ I exclaim. ‘He wants me to do another gig the week after next – on a Friday night!’

‘Wow, that’s fantastic!’

I fill him in and we make our way through several cocktails as we sit and chat, the sun beginning to sink behind the rooftops. Suddenly we remember our dinner reservation and hightail it downstairs to the restaurant. We sit by one of the arched windows, looking out onto another art deco building. It’s still light outside, but the table’s candle has been lit regardless.

‘Where did you tell Rose you were coming tonight?’ I ask.

‘I told her I was coming here.’ He clears his throat. ‘She thinks I’m seeing someone.’

‘Oh. Did you put her straight?’ I ask.

‘Yeah. I mean, I’m not, am I?’ He raises his eyebrows at me. ‘But she seemed upset.’

‘She probably thinks it’s too soon,’ I say flatly.

‘It’s been over a year,’ he points out reasonably, before frowning. ‘Anyway...’

The waiter comes over then, pouring ruby red wine into both our glasses. ‘Are you ready to order?’ he asks.

I’m glad of the interruption as I pick up my menu.

‘Do you ever drive yourself mad thinking about the future?’ Angus asks when we’re well into our main courses.

‘I try not to,’ I reply.

He shakes his head. ‘I’m not talking about ten years’ time; I’m talking about two, three, ten thousand years away.’

‘You don’t think we will have blown each other up with nuclear bombs by then?’ I ask.

‘Who knows? But what if we haven’t? What if the human race is still going strong and we haven’t all been killed off by deadly viruses and world wars? I wonder who the superpowers will be. I’m not talking about comic book characters.’

‘I know,’ I say with a smile, wondering where he’s going with this. It sounds like one of the bonkers conversations we used to have.

‘The United States, the Soviet Union, the British Empire before World War II – they were all superpowers,’ he says. ‘But look back at history to Ancient Egypt, the Persian Empire, the Greeks and the Romans... Who will be the superpowers of the future?’

‘China?’ I suggest.

‘Maybe. But what will the world be like? What will technology be like? Will any of these buildings still be standing? And if not, why not? What will make them fall? Will they be torn down and rebuilt bigger?’

‘You’d drive yourself nuts thinking about it,’ I say.

Yeah, imagine being so overpowered by curiosity that you could literally drive yourself mad.’

‘There’s probably a medical term for that sort of thing,’ I say with a giggle.

‘Yeah, a term for the fatally curious. You wouldn’t be able to switch off or fall asleep at night.’

I flash him a smile. ‘I like it when you start to ponder the universe.’

He smiles back at me, his face and hair golden in the candlelight, and his eyes glinting beautifully. He’s painfully gorgeous.

Out of the blue, I wonder if he used to have crazy conversations like this when he was with Phoebe.

But of course he did.

‘What are you thinking?’ he asks, sensing the change in atmosphere.

‘Feebs,’ I reply quietly.

I glance up in time to see him swallow, but then he looks down and places his knife and fork together on his plate.

‘I’m stuffed,’ he says.

‘No room for dessert?’ I double check.

‘No, but you can.’

‘I might just get a cup of tea, actually. I’ve had a bit too much wine.’

‘Well, there’s the posh tea and coffee in my room, and don’t forget the biscuits.’

I smile. ‘As if I could.’

Old-fashioned, pink-tinted newspapers titled The Gotham News hang over gold railings fixed to the walls as we walk down the corridor. Angus reaches his room and unlocks the door with a key card and I follow him inside.

The room is dark and sumptuous, a double bed in its centre with a fur throw draped casually over the end. I sit down on the only armchair and he offers up a glass jar. I smile and take a Batman-shaped biscuit, then he gets on with filling and boiling the kettle.

‘What time have you got to be at work tomorrow?’ I ask, trying to make small talk.

‘Ten or so,’ he replies, perching on the end of the bed, facing me. He rests his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together and I catch a glimpse of his chest beneath his shirt.

‘I’ll be out of your way soon,’ I say, nodding at the kettle as I hear it click off.

He gets to his feet to make our drinks and I relax back in the armchair and cross my legs. The bed dominates the small space and it’s feeling a little warm in here.

When he turns around, he seems to jolt ever so slightly. His eyes graze my legs as he walks over and passes me a cup.

‘When you look at me, do you ever see Phoebe?’ I ask as he sits down.

He blanches. ‘What? No!’

‘Does it ever hurt to look at me?’ I ask, as my mood takes a nosedive – a sure sign of too much alcohol. I’m on a destructive course now and I won’t be able to stop it.

‘Eliza,’ he says with distress, placing his cup on a nearby table and coming to kneel on the carpet in front of me. He stares up at me. ‘No. Obviously sometimes you remind me of her because you’re her sister, but that’s rare. Mostly you’re just Liza.’

My eyes mist over. He sighs and takes my drink from me, before pulling me to my feet and into his arms. He’s warm and strong and I let him hold me, my throat swelling uncomfortably.

He holds me tighter. ‘I’m so thankful to still have you and Rose.’

Does he mean as friends? God, I don’t know what I want.

I place my hands on his shoulders and break our contact, turning my face away. He tucks my hair behind my ears, prompting me to meet his gaze again. He cups my face with his hands.

‘What are you—’ I start to say, but he reaches up and touches his thumb to my mouth, silencing me. Then he replaces his thumb with his lips.

It is the sweetest kiss. It lasts no more than a couple of seconds and is incredibly gentle and tentative, but my knees feel weak as he breaks away.

‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ I whisper, clutching his arms to keep steady. My heart is racing.

‘Why not?’

I am intensely aware of the double bed directly behind him. It would be so easy to push him backwards and get totally and deliriously caught up in this moment.

But I can’t do that.

Oh, but then he kisses me again.

The shivers rocketing up and down my spine are making my legs continue on their course towards jellification.

‘Angus,’ I whisper as he presses his lips to my jaw. ‘We can’t.’

‘Yes, we can,’ he murmurs gently.

Using great willpower, I put my hands on his chest and slowly push him away.

I’m startled to see his eyes flash with anger.

‘You once told me that if I didn’t want Phoebe, I couldn’t have any of you,’ he says in a low, dangerous voice.

I nod nervously. ‘Maybe that still stands.’

‘Bullshit!’ he erupts, making me jump. I begin to pace the small area to the side of the bed as he rants. ‘That is bullshit and you know it! She’s not coming back. You and I are here. And we should be together. It would be about fucking time.’

The look in his eyes takes my breath away. He’s so hot when he’s riled up.

My willpower gives way and I take a step towards him. He sees me coming and closes the gap.

Where earlier it was tentative, now it is so fiery with passion that we could set light to the furniture.

He holds my face and kisses me with a frenzied urgency. I feel dizzy, but I attack him with just as much fervour. I don’t want to stop. I can’t stop. Stopping is futile and pointless. I need him. I want him, and damn it, I’m going to have him.

We pull each other down to the bed.

The morning comes and with it the guilt. The sense of déjà vu is extraordinary, but when I turn to see Angus sleeping peacefully beside me, I feel a sudden swell of determination. Last night was incredible. And I am hopelessly in love.

I press a gentle kiss to his shoulder and he stirs.

His beautiful eyes open and he looks momentarily confused. My heart skips a beat. Was he very drunk last night? Does he remember what happened? Does he know who I am? But then he smiles sleepily.

‘Hello, trouble,’ he whispers, putting all of my worries at bay. He reaches over and places his hand on my cheek. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I think so,’ I reply. ‘Are you?’

He nods and slides his arm around me, pulling me against his bare chest. I sigh peacefully and snuggle into him, my palm flat against his stomach.

‘Liza?’ he asks after a moment.

‘Yes?’

‘Don’t freak out later when you’re alone. That killed me when we were eighteen.’

‘I won’t,’ I promise, adjusting my position so I can look up at him. His eyes are full of trepidation.

‘I love you,’ I whisper, stroking my fingertips along his jaw.

His stressed expression melts away as he draws me up his body to kiss him. ‘I love you, too,’ he says against my lips.

But right then and there, I know that Michelle is right. I have to talk to Phoebe.

The air is damp with recent rainfall as I walk along the winding paths in the cemetery. A gust of wind blows the leaves on the trees, causing a cascade of raindrops to fall down on my head. I barely flinch.

I reach the gravestone and look down at the engraving.

I fall to my knees, the mud seeping up through the grass and soaking my skin.

‘I’m sorry, Feebs, but I have to tell you something. I’m in love with Angus. I’ve loved him since the beginning.’

Tears spill out of my eyes as I speak and I can barely hold back my sobs.

‘I’m so sorry. If you were here, this never would have happened. I’ve tried for so long to stay away from him, but I can’t do it any more. I’m in such agony, missing you, and I feel like he’s healing me. I hope you can accept it. I wouldn’t expect you to be happy for me. I would give anything to have you back, and I know that would mean giving up Angus, but I feel incomplete without you. I love you so much. And I’m sorry. But I love him, too. And he’s here. I hope you understand.’

I can’t speak any more for the lump in my throat, but I stay there for a long time afterwards, with my hand on the gravestone and tears trekking down my cheeks.