Come Away With Me

Danielle had made me swear that I would not embellish it in any way and spoil the effect. It was hard, as I love colour and eccentric clothes, but this feeling of being almost invisible suits my mood perfectly tonight. I am secretly worrying about our premises, which have become too small, and the fact that although we are getting plenty of commissions we do not seem able to balance our books.

As I pass the group with the tall man I see he is looking at me. I smile and walk on. I am not about to become a member of his fan club.

I join Danielle and a group of friends, and we balance plates and drinks, perching on tiny wrought-iron chairs. Maisie Hill, a model Justin and Danielle and I design for, walks over to join us with the tall man in tow.

‘Hi, you guys. This is Tom Holland, an army friend of my brother’s. I invited them both to the party but Damien’s suddenly got posted off somewhere so he had to come on his own, poor thing. Tom, that’s Danielle, there. Jenny, Claire, Joseph, Milly, and Prue. I’ll be back in a sec. I’ve just got to check on the caterers for Justin.’

The man sits down gingerly on a tiny chair, with his plate of food and grins warily at everyone. Danielle and the other women focus on him relentlessly. He has a stillness about him; an economy of movement and a faint air of amused detachment as if he knows he is the interest of the moment, but it will quickly pass because he comes from a different world.

I notice the tightness of his thighs as he balances on the silly chair and the muscles in his arms where he has rolled up his sleeves a little way.

I like Damien, Maisie’s brother. He often comes to these parties. She had been worried sick when the Bosnian war blew up and he had been sent with the first wave to monitor the atrocities with the UN.

Knowing even one soldier had changed how we all read the papers and watched the news. I wonder if this man, Tom, had been with Damien out there. How frivolous we must all seem. Danielle is eyeing him under a curtain of glossy black hair. Oh, leave him alone, Elle. Don’t bed and dump this one. He won’t know what’s hit him.

When I look up he is watching me. His eyes are extraordinary, purple-flecked and iridescent. They hold mine intently, intimately, as if he is touching me. The blood rushes hotly to the surface of my skin. It is like being hit by a bus.

Maisie calls out to me and I leap up gratefully and walk over the grass. ‘For fuck’s sake, Jenny, don’t just sit there dumb as a daisy. That poor guy has been dying to talk to you all evening.’

I stare at her and fly to the loo, and when I come out Tom Holland is leaning gracefully against a silver birch. I stop in front of him.

‘Hi,’ he says.

‘Hi,’ I say imaginatively.

‘I’m sorry if it seems as if I’m following you. It’s because you are illusive.’

‘Am I?’

‘Like a ghost. Flitting mysteriously in the distance but never stopping for a proper glimpse.’ His laugh is infectious.

‘It’s what I do at parties. Flit. In case I get caught up or trapped.’

‘Very wise,’ he says gravely, then adds quickly, ‘Am I trapping you?’

I shake my head. We walk across the park together, away from the noise and the music towards the chestnut tree I stood under earlier.

‘This is where I first saw you. A small white phantom under a canopy of green. I blinked twice but you were still there, perfectly still. So I knew you must be real.’ His voice is addictive, with a lilt of a smile in it.

‘I was watching the proceedings from a distance. It’s how I sometimes get inspiration.’

‘Well, if Maisie’s clothes are anything to go by, it definitely works.’

‘Maisie would look amazing in a coal sack and bottle top earrings, and I’m afraid we don’t exclusively dress her.’

We walk on across the park in the growing dusk as the music and laughter drift behind us and ahead of us lights in buildings come on.

The evening is beautiful, utterly still. The heat has been caught by the day and trapped by the buildings of the city, keeping the air warm, filling the night with the smell of blossom.

I sense Tom Holland does not want to make small talk but draw in the peace of the night and we walk in a strange companionable silence, drinking in the night as if we have known each other a long time.

He looks at his watch suddenly and we turn without speaking and walk back towards the party going on uproariously ahead of us.

‘I have to go, Jenny. I’m catching a plane first thing in the morning.’

‘To Bosnia?’ I suddenly feel bereft. I haven’t asked him anything about himself. I thought there would be time.

He shakes his head. ‘No, just a training trip somewhere bleak.’

We stare at each other.

‘Thank you,’ he says.

‘What for?’

‘For walking with me on a warm London evening in summer and not making small talk, and for giving me a lovely peaceful memory to take away with me.’

‘You take care,’ I say.

He looks down at me. ‘May I ring you when I get back?’

I take my card out of my bag and give it to him. He holds on to my fingers, lifts them to his lips, then he turns and walks away, striding across the grass. My heart hammers like a trapped bird as the distance between us grows.

I call out ‘Tom’ before I even know I’m going to.

He turns and I run towards him. He scoops me up and turns in a circle with me. Then we just stand holding each other for a moment.

‘Please take care,’ I say again. I let him go and he walks quickly through the gate. This time I notice his step has a little bounce to it.

SEVEN (#ulink_c64df6d1-b962-5b21-9b00-dc57cc19c943)

February 2006

‘You look happy today!’ Adam said, grinning at his mother as she jumped out of the train.

‘How do I normally look?’

‘Stressed, Mum! You’re usually in your own little world of work, for at least an hour or so.’

Ruth felt a pang. So this was how she was. She bleeped the car doors open and when they were inside she said, ‘It was extraordinary. I met someone on the train I haven’t seen for nearly fourteen years. It was weird, Adam, we were best friends at school.’

‘Cool,’ Adam said. ‘You recognised each other then?’

Ruth shot him a look. ‘I’m not that old! Actually, Jenny looked more or less as she always did, except…’

She concentrated on backing out of the car space.

‘Except, what?’