I flip the sign on the door to OUT TO LUNCH and sit down in one of the armchairs. “Alex is OK. Well . . . no, he’s not OK. He’s broken up about being broken up. But I’m proud of him—he told me he came out to his parents.”
“Oh really, honey? That’s wonderful news.”
“It is wonderful. And he wants to share the moment with Elliot, but he’s not taking Alex’s calls. So Alex knows he’s going to have to do something big—a grand gesture—if he wants to have a chance at winning Elliot back. So I thought I would come and ask you for help, since you are a woman of many ideas, most of which are usually grand—What are you doing?” I watch as Mum dives headfirst into a basket of shoes and handbags.
“I can’t find my gold clutch bag at home so I thought maybe someone had brought it in. Do you remember? The one your brother got me for my forty-fifth birthday? I think I might have left a ten-pound note in it the last time I used it.” Her legs are practically up in the air as she throws bags and shoes out of the basket and continues her frantic search.
“Of course . . .” I say, raising an eyebrow as I watch her from my seat by the window.
“Well, I am the queen of grand gestures, Penny, so you have come to the right place. What exactly is he thinking? AHA! HERE IT IS!” She stands up, her curly auburn hair all flipped over to one side of her head and her face a deep beetroot red. She puts the gold clutch bag down on the counter, then sits next to me.
“I’m not too sure. He wants it to be romantic. He’s thinking of taking him to the pier or something, but Elliot isn’t the biggest fan of the pier—too much bad fashion. I don’t think he wants the soundtrack to their big moment to be the ringing of the 2p machines either. I just don’t know where else there’s such an amazing view of the sea at sunset. Alex doesn’t exactly have a big budget . . .”
Mum claps her hands together and breathes in theatrically. “I know the perfect place! How about the bandstand? I’ve planned many wedding ceremonies and photo shoots there, so I’ve got a contact. I can sort that out for you. There’s a sea view and privacy. Alex can have whatever soundtrack he wants! Elliot will love it.”
This is the exact reason why my mum was the perfect person to ask. She knows anyone and everyone when it comes to planning parties.
“Sounds amazing! We can decorate it and make it look all Pinterest-perfect! That would be so great—thanks, Mum.” I throw my arms round her and kiss her on the cheek. “Do you think we can make it happen for next Thursday?”
“That’s soon . . . Let me see what I can do. But this is a big favour—maybe I can ask for something in return?”
“Of course! Anything!”
“Help me out here tomorrow? Jenny’s still not feeling well and Saturdays are my busiest days . . .”
I hesitate, but only for a moment. I really am OK with being here in the shop. “Sure, Mum. That’s fine.”
She smiles at me. “It’s so good to see you like this, Penny. You seem back to your normal self. Your dad and I have been so worried about you since . . . since you got back from Paris. You know we both liked Noah very much, but also you do know you can talk to us any time, don’t you?” She cups my face and kisses my nose.
“Yes, I know. I’m all right now. I wasn’t before, but if it wasn’t meant to be then I can’t force it. It was so hard, and if it’s that hard—”
“Then it’s not right.”
“Then it’s not right. I think I just needed a bit of space in order to figure out what I really wanted, you know?” I rest my head on her shoulder and she brings me into a hug.
“You’re a very strong young woman, P. You must get that from me . . .”
We both laugh, and I thank my lucky stars that I have such amazing and supportive parents who stand by me through everything.
I text Alex.
What about the bandstand?!?!
I love that idea!
Great! Next Thursday then?
You’re the best, P! Alex x
The only piece of the puzzle left is the fact that I need to plan a distraction in order to have Elliot in the right place at the right time.
Alex has been brave.
Now it’s my turn.
“Mum, can you grab our lunch while I send an email? It’s an important one.”
“Sure thing! I’ll pop out to the deli and get us both some sandwiches. Sausage baguette with scrambled egg, like always?”
I nod, and start a new email on my phone.
From: Penny Porter
To: Miss Mills
Subject: Photography Showcase
Dear Miss Mills,
Thank you for your note about Noah. I’m sorry I didn’t reply sooner—I’ve been living under a rock recently. I feel like I’m doing much better now, though. How are things going with the school showcase? Actually, I was wondering whether it was too late for me to join in? I’m trying to take steps to be brave, and I think this might be a good first step.
Yours,
Penny
Once I send off the email, I absentmindedly open my Twitter feed. I catch sight of a headline that’s been retweeted by someone I follow—it’s about Noah, but I’m pleased to notice that my heart doesn’t twinge quite as much as it did even yesterday.
HAS NOAH FLYNN FOUND HIS SUMMER GIRL?
My heart might not twinge, but I still can’t control my fingers. I click on the link, which leads to an article on a trashy gossip website called Starry Eyes. There’s a dark, grainy picture of Noah and Blake walking out of a club somewhere in Europe. Blake is caught in the middle of his normal punching-the-air pose and Noah is just behind him. His face is half-hidden by shadow, but his mouth is downturned and he looks like he’s frowning. There are two girls walking next to them, both with bright blonde hair. One looks like she is holding Noah’s hand, but it might just be the angle of the photograph.
It is strange to see Noah not looking as fresh and happy as I thought he would. Seeing the girls doesn’t make me angry, or even incredibly sad—I just feel empty.
The article continues.
Will rising superstar Noah Flynn find another English rose when he’s back on UK soil? Recently confirmed to be playing the PARK PARTY festival in London this weekend, Noah Flynn is set to rock the socks off the English capital. But will these lucky ladies spotted out with him and his band mates in Stockholm be coming with him? Starry Eyes will have all the gossip . . .
I decide to put myself out of my misery and quickly close the browser window. Instead, I open Pinterest, and start browsing ideas for decorating the bandstand. I scroll past photographs of beautiful weddings and engagement photos galore, but my heart isn’t in it. Everything looks beautiful, but also generic. If this is going to work for Elliot, it needs to be personal.
My phone pings with an email. It’s from Miss Mills.
From: Miss Mills
To: Penny Porter
Subject: RE: Photography showcase
I thought you’d never ask!
Of course you can still display your photographs in the showcase. It would be an honour. Drop them off at the school when you can.
And I meant what I said, Penny: I’m proud of you.
Miss Mills
I can’t believe I’m really doing it. I’m finally going to show my photographs to the public.
Chapter Fifty-One
I am knee-deep in leopard-print wallpaper.
It’s my first day back in To Have and to Hold, fulfilling my promise to Mum, and I’m tackling my favourite task: the window display. There are two huge bay windows on either side of the door, and Mum always has a new theme to draw in customers.
Last week was an underwater theme with a mermaid-blue dress, lots of shells dangling from the ceiling, sand on the ground, and a tiara that was full of the most amazing blue and green gemstones.
This week, though, it’s a safari theme: a completely new one for Mum! She definitely gets top marks for originality. The dress we are centring the theme on is lacy with a subtle zebra print
on the underskirt. It’s pretty, but not exactly my cup of tea.
I’m clearing out a giant seashell and replacing it with an oversized stuffed toy of a leopard (Mum found it at a car-boot sale and finally has a place to put it) when Alex walks in.
“Penny—What on earth is that?” Alex almost jumps out of his skin as I spin round to greet him with the giant leopard under my arm.
“Don’t ask. It’s for our safari theme this week, and of course Mum has a life-sized stuffed leopard that would look perfect.”
He laughs and grabs my hand, helping me out of the window. “I just dropped in to go through plans for Elliot’s surprise. Everything OK?”
“All good! Mum confirmed this morning that the bandstand is free on Thursday night, so it’s all systems go.”
“He doesn’t suspect anything, right? And you’re OK to distract him for the evening? The sun doesn’t set until later, so you’ll need to make sure he doesn’t go home early . . .”
“Stop worrying! He suspects nothing. He thinks he’s going to the photography showcase to look after me, so he won’t leave me. This will totally be the best surprise he could ever imagine. I can bring him to the bandstand at nine o’clock. I’m so excited. This could bring Alexiot back together and then the world will feel right again.”
“I really hope so. But there is still a chance he could hate everything and never want to speak to me again.”
I reach out and take Alex’s hand. “We’ll try to do everything possible to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Penny, that’s just it—I think there’s something missing. But it will involve asking you another huge favour, and I feel like I’ve asked too much of you already.”
“No, please ask. This is the biggest thing in your life right now, and, if I can, I want to help you in whatever way possible. Unless you’re asking me to rob a bank or something to pay for a giant diamond—”
“No, nothing quite like that!” He squirms awkwardly and beams at me, showing off all his teeth.
Now I’m starting to feel a bit nervous. What could Alex possibly want me to do that is making him go all awkward? I really hope he’s not going to ask me to do a weird naked photo shoot of the two of them or something.
“You know how ‘Elements’ is my and Elliot’s song? I just wanted to check that it would be OK for me to play it on some speakers at the bandstand? I know how you feel about Noah, and I know it could bring up a lot of pent-up emotions, so I just wanted to check . . .”
I feel a huge sense of relief that I’m not going to have to see Alex in his birthday suit. “Of course, that’s fine.” I smile, especially seeing my look of relief mirrored in Alex’s face. It will mean a lot to Elliot, I know—it was the song that was playing when I took that photo of them.
“Elements” means so much to so many people. I’ve seen Noah play it so many times onstage and I’ve seen the effect that is has on the audience. It’s the perfect song for anyone who is in love.
I let out a long sigh, and now it’s Alex’s turn to try to comfort me. “What about you, Penny? Is there no hope for you and Noah?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I really doubt it. We haven’t spoken at all since we broke up.”
“Well, you will never know if you don’t try to speak to him. Even if things don’t work out, you need closure.”
He’s right, of course. I have to speak to Noah at some point. I’ve tried to block out the reality for so long, but seeing Alex doing all this for Elliot is really pulling on my heartstrings. We may not be together, but maybe we could be friends?
But would he even want to talk to me now? He’s doing a good job of respecting my last wish not to be contacted—too much of a good job. Maybe he’s really angry at me for leaving. Does he still think I was making up the whole Blake thing? There are too many unanswered questions, and I’m not even sure I want to know the answers to them. But, if there was ever an occasion to be brave and bite the bullet by speaking to Noah, it is now, before he jets off on his World Tour and I lose the chance—maybe forever.
“I know. I found out recently he’s going to be in London, so I can get in touch with him and maybe we can meet up and at least clear the air. It’s not like we have to go from being in love to being in hate, is it?”
Alex leans over and kisses me on the cheek. “You can do this, Penny. I believe in you.”
• • •
Back in my bedroom my fingers are hovering over the keypad on my phone, with an empty text-message screen. Why can’t I find the words? Oh, hey, Noah, remember me? That girl who left you in Paris during your tour. The one you wrote that song for . . .
I bury my head in my pillow and let out a frustrated whine. WHY IS THIS SO HARD? I’m absolutely terrified that the wounds, which are just starting to heal since I left Paris, are all going to rip open again once I send this text. What if Noah responds like Elliot and doesn’t reply? But I can’t ignore this forever. If I don’t try, then I’ll never know. Noah was—is—so special to me, and we have to talk at some point. I can’t keep putting it off.
Noah, I know it’s been a couple of weeks, and it’s been hard not contacting you. I heard you were going to be in London, so I thought maybe we could talk? It might be too much to ask, but I have to try. Can we be friends? Penny x
I put my phone down on the bedside table, almost expecting there to be no reply, when it lights up instantly. It’s from Noah.
I want to talk to you too. Come and meet me at the festival tomorrow, if you can. I’ll get you a ticket—and one for a friend so you don’t have to come alone. I miss you. N
My heart skips a beat at the end of the text. He misses me. Has he really been waiting for me to contact him? My flood of feelings for Noah comes pouring back and I instantly feel my face flush.
I remember us dancing in the crowd like complete fools while The Sketch played; I’m remembering his little kisses on the end of my nose, the nights he would text me from his room to say he wished he was cuddling up with me instead, and the way he would dart me a glance in the wings as he sang “Autumn Girl” to a stadium of people. The wonderful memories I’ve been trying to lock away are quickly replacing the angry, frustrated ones that have been helping me through the last few weeks.
I try to push the happy memories away, because I know if I let those feelings in I’ll fall completely head over heels back in love with him. What if he does just want to be friends? I’m totally doing an Elliot and wanting to close up and never talk about my emotions, but it’s just making me more and more confused about what I actually want.
OK, I think I can do that. P x
I hit send. I’ve done a lot of nerve-racking and ridiculous things over the past year, but, for some reason, the thought of talking to Noah again fills me with the biggest nerves of all.
Chapter Fifty-Two
I’m up at the crack of dawn, and I can’t believe I’m back to this—not being able to sleep, not letting my mind rest.
I’ve been a jittery, vibrating bundle of nerves all night. I can’t wrap my head round the fact that I will be seeing Noah today. It may have only been a couple of weeks, but it feels like a lifetime. I’ve paced back and forth so many times that Dad has already popped his head in to check I’m not going crazy.
I’ve also chewed my fingernails down to the quick, but that’s for a different reason. Noah was right when he said that I wouldn’t—couldn’t—go to the festival alone. My initial instinct of course was to take Elliot, but he’s already agreed to go to Bath with his parents for a historical tour (an attempt by them to cheer him up). Besides, he would have asked way too many questions as to why I decided to go and talk to Noah now, and that would have brought up Alex and the surprise. So, in a way, it’s better not to ask Elliot at all. I feel a little like I am cheating on him by being so sneaky behind his back, but I know it’s all for a good cause.
Then I tried to invite Kira, but she is already going to the festival with Amara. They booked their tickets months ago beca
use they are huge fans of The Halo Pixies, an a cappella girl band based in Sweden that is also playing.
I was comforted when I knew the twins would be going too, so I bit the bullet and invited Megan. Her messages to me since Noah and I broke up have been nothing but sweet, plus part of me wants to figure out the mystery behind TheRealTruth. There haven’t been any more emails or letters since Noah and I split up so I chose not to go to the police in the end. Maybe if I spend a whole day with Megan, I’ll be able to reassure myself that she wasn’t behind all those nasty threats.
I really hope she wasn’t—I’m just starting to feel as though the Megan I grew up with is making more and more of a reappearance. She’s going to her drama school in September, and a part of me will even miss her. I won’t miss her ending all my sentences or wanting to be the centre of attention at every given opportunity, but I will miss little things like her always being there to meet me after English so we can walk to lunch together and her sarcastic sense of humour.
So, now, she’s here in my room, perched on my desk chair and looking at me with a slightly concerned expression.
“Penny, I know you said you’re fine, but I’m starting to think you might be lying. I’ve been counting how many times you’ve paced back and forth and I’m up to fifty-six already. That’s far too much exercise for one day, let alone when you’re feeling stressed and anxious.” She looks down at her nails and traces the little daisy transfer that she has on her thumb.
“Megan, are you sure I look OK? No, not just OK. Do I look really OK?” I scan myself in my full-length mirror and stand up on my tiptoes.
“As long as you stand like a normal person, you look great. I mean, it’s not exactly what I would have chosen . . .”
I’ve gone for a black skater dress with a bright-red poppy print, paired with my little black ankle boots—because we are going to a festival after all! My hair is down and tousled and I have a pair of aviator sunglasses perched on my head.