Page 51 of Five Gold Rings
‘What are we supposed to do?’ I whisper to Joe, panicked.
I look up at him and he grins then offers me a hand. I still have alcohol flowing through me, so I’ll take that dance. I grab his hand and he pulls me in to him, so that my body presses against his, engaging in a less well choreographed sidestep. He mouths the words, fake crooning, and I drop my head back with laughter. Why does this feel like it makes sense? I don’t know what to do. Why can’t I breathe? Kiss him. Kiss him again just to be sure.
But then the dancers stop, the music pauses and someone hands Lukas a microphone. He clears his throat and I hear a tremble in his voice as he says, ‘Theodore Dove. You are the best man I know, and I want to tell everyone that, today. Everyone. You all should know this man, right here. I am so lucky to call you mine, that you have chosen me to be yours and I want us to be together forever. I want us to walk down the same path, I want to be by your side, I want to just be here, with you. So…’
Joe seamlessly hands him the box in his pocket and Theo points at Joe, laughing. Now he gets it;thatwas the secret.
‘Will you do me the honour, this Christmas, of being my husband?’
Theo stops for a moment and the whole of Trafalgar Square takes a breath, a pigeon stops mid-flight, a bus stops moving.
He grabs the microphone. ‘YES! A million times yes!’
And the crowd roar, people cry, I think someone throws a baby into the air. Theo and Lukas embrace tightly and kiss, their foreheads touching after to take the moment in. I cheer loudly and applaud. I am happy, I am. I’m smiling a smile so large it hurts my face, but at the same time, tears sting my face. I would be completely heartless to not feel the joy in this moment, but I also feel the fractures in my heart start to throb. I reach out trying to find Joe’s hand to hold so I can feel something else. His palm meets mine and our fingers intertwine tightly.
‘You idiot,’ Theo says to Lukas. ‘So this was what all the secrecy was about…’
‘I thought go big or go home… no?’ Lukas replies.
‘So all those times you were in the larder whispering…’
‘I was trying to negotiate rates with a choreographer.’
‘And why here?’ Theo asks him, amused.
‘Because there’s a man with a big column and a sturdy Norwegian,’ he says, pointing to the famous Christmas tree at the centre. ‘I know you’re a fan of both…’
Theo cackles in reply. ‘And YOU!’ he says, pointing at both Joe and I, laughing and coming over to embrace me. ‘I tell you, these two did an excellent job escorting me here.’
Joe and I look at each other, grinning. ‘It was our pleasure,’ I tell them. ‘Mr and Mrs Caspar send on their congratulations. We’re actually from the jewellers’.’
Theo looks down at the ring and back at us, understanding that maybe we’ve gone above and beyond our actual duties today.
‘We are so sorry, Mr Tolv, that we nearly spoilt this,’ Joe tells him.
The famous Lukas looks Joe up and down. ‘Well, I should be glad he didn’t go off and elope with you. Mr Caspar had you hidden away, didn’t he? It all came good. Thank you, both, I appreciate you going the extra mile.’
Theo embraces Joe again, saying something into his ear and they trade words I can’t quite hear before parting. Our job here is done, I guess. Other people start to gather around the happy couple to offer their congrats and the jazz band starts up again. And why the hell not? This feels real, like what the season and love should feel like, and I adore how that feeling is contagious. Maybe it will help me heal a little. Tourists in sensible shoes and outdoor coats couple up to dance, kids sway on the stone steps, and a policeman nearby sashays with an old lady with a trolley bag. I dance there on my own, alcohol still swimming through my veins. In my mind, it’s a whole scene fromLa La Land, the romance of it infusing me.
‘Shall we?’ And then there’s Joe. He stands next to me, one hand in his pocket, the other looking at his watch.
‘Shall we what?’ I say, giggling. I grab at his arm, persuading him that more dancing is what’s needed. It’s fucking Christmas Eve. Let’s dance into the night like Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling, like we’re in a film. There’s even a band. I can’t deny, this is helping me get my Christmas on in the most magical way.
‘Let’s get you to bed.’
I stop for a moment. He wants to take me to bed? I swallow hard. And something overtakes me for a second. I want to say it’s the Christmas spirit, but it’s more likely the spirit that was part of that Christmas cocktail in a tin that I downed twenty minutes ago. I step closer to him, our cheeks touching, his body pressed against mine. And there’s something about the touch of him, the warmth of his body, that intoxicates, that draws me in, and I kiss him, the whole of that square just happening around us, the air standing still, his lips brushing against mine, his hands moving to the small of my back. Kiss me like this forever please, until Christmas Day at least. Take me to bed. Be…
But he suddenly steps away from me. ‘No,’ he whispers. ‘We can’t…’
I stand there trying not to look like the moment was jarring in any way. ‘Oh,’ I gasp. ‘I just thought…’ That grand romantic feeling is suddenly replaced by complete shame, worry, disappointment.
He looks at me, shell-shocked. ‘You’re really drunk. And you don’t want me. This isn’t the right thing to do, not when you’re like this.’
My bottom lip starts to quiver. ‘I’m so sorry. I just… I get it. I’m a big fat mess, I wouldn’t go near me either.’
‘It’s not that at all. I just don’t want to be that person,’ he tells me, still holding me close.
I swallow hard.That person.I was stupid to think I was even a viable prospect, embarrassed that I would take advantage of our friendship and put it in such an awkward position. Ceremoniously dumped by Chris and now rejected by the lovely Joe. They need a new word for feeling completely and utterly crushed. The feeling turns to tears and Joe looks completely horrified, pulling me into a hug in the middle of that square, his embrace tempering out my mood, giving me a chance to at least hide my face from him.