‘Oh, OK. Doesn’t matter. Maybe I’ve remembered it wrong.’
She turns her attention back to the panto, still frowning slightly. So it’s definitely true, then. Nothing I do here has any knock-on effect whatsoever.
I try to work out how all of this makes me feel, but before I can come to any definite conclusion, Daff nudges me gently in the ribs. ‘Benjamin. Too cool for audience participation?’
I snap out of it, and smile at her. And then I’m yelling, ‘Oh yes you have!’ along with everyone else.
Chapter Twenty-Three
It’s pitch dark and freezing by the time we troop out of the theatre.
The Revels and beers have sharpened our appetites, so we stroll through Covent Garden hand in hand in search of a place to eat. Daff has the flowers poking out of her backpack like some strange alien antennae. I’m carrying the award for her, occasionally holding it up to random passers-by and announcing, ‘Rising Star coming through,’ before she slaps my hand down. As we wander towards the river under the never-ending cascade of Christmas lights, everything feels absolutely right with the world.
It strikes me suddenly that this is the complete opposite of our last theatre trip together. That was a total and utter disaster.
It was on September 25th, 2020: Daff’s thirty-third birthday. We’d gone to see one of her clients’ new plays at the Lyric Theatre. It was only a few weeks after Marek’s wedding – after I kissed Alice (or Alice kissed me) in that photo booth. My head was still swimming with that moment: guilt and regret mingling with daydreams of what life would have been like if Alice and I had actually got together. All mixed in with a side helping of dark thoughts about my non-starting career, and even darker thoughts about Mum. I got sulky when Daff left me on my own to go and chat to Rich at the after-show drinks, and when it was just the two of us later, at dinner, things got even worse. We spent the entire three courses snapping at each other, and at the end of the night, Daff sighed heavily as we stood up and said, ‘Well, thanks, Ben. This has definitely been a memorable birthday.’
Looking at her now as she bounces alongside me, so happy and carefree, it’s impossible to imagine that we’ll turn into that couple one day. And it might be the alcohol swimming to my head, but I can’t help thinking: maybe I should just forget that we will. Maybe, just for tonight, I should forget about the future, and all the shit that will come with it, and try to make the next few hours as perfect as they can possibly be.
When we get down to the Thames, we find that a festive-themed cluster of food vans have been set up next to Waterloo Bridge. I buy two large turkey baps packed with smoking hot stuffing and cranberry sauce, and two paper cups full of steaming cinnamon-laced mulled wine.
Daff and I sit on a bench eating and drinking, huddled together for warmth, and even though we’ve been going out in this reality for nearly five years, it honestly feels like a first date. A really, really good first date.
I tell her about waking up this morning and seeing Harv and Liv in our kitchen, and how worried I am about it all going wrong between them. Daff just shrugs and says, ‘Yeah, well, what can you do? Have you actually said anything to him?’
‘Yeah, I sort of did on the phone earlier. I don’t think he wants to listen. But I just know she’s wrong for him.’
She swallows a bite of her sandwich. ‘How do you know? You can’t know someone’s wrong for someone.’
‘Why not? You can know someone’s right for someone.’ I’m not sure where this comment comes from, but clearly Daff thinks it’s about us, because she leans into me and says, ‘Smoooooth.’
A brightly coloured boat full of loud pissed people in tuxedos and ball gowns floats slowly past us on the river. When it’s finally out of earshot, Daff turns to me and says, ‘I think I knew you were right for me pretty much straight away.’
I look at her. ‘Seriously? How come?’
She shuffles even closer to me on the bench. ‘Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.’ I laugh involuntarily at that, as it’s the sort of statement you tend to hear in films rather than in real life. But Daff just shrugs and continues. ‘I know it sounds cheesy, but honestly, it’s true. D’you remember our first date?’
‘What, at the cinema?’
She nods, and the memory comes trickling back. After that night in the maze, I spent the entire Christmas holidays moping about at home, wondering if I should text her, wondering why she hadn’t texted me, and generally counting the days until uni restarted and I’d be able to bump into her. And then, two days into the new term, I did bump into her. We chatted for a while outside the library, and she mentioned that she fancied seeing that Keira Knightley Pride & Prejudice film that had just come out. Seeing my chance, I told her I was desperate to see it too, and, hey, why didn’t we go together?
‘I took the bus into town to meet you at that pub first, d’you remember?’ she says. ‘And it sounds weird because we’d only actually met once at that point, but I’d thought about you a lot over the holidays, and I was really nervous about seeing you again. So I started daydreaming on the bus, thinking about that kiss in the maze, and what might happen tonight. And in the end, I got so caught up in these stupid daydreams that I completely missed my stop.’ She breaks off and laughs into the steam rising from her cup. ‘I ended up in Clifton bus depot. That’s when I knew you were probably more than just
