The Love Shack by Jane Costello

Author:Jane Costello [Costello, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Tags: Fiction, Romance
ISBN: 9781471129278
Google: or6YBAAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1471129276
Publisher: Simon & Schuster UK
Published: 2015-04-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 32

Gemma

I feel more nervous than I did that first moment we spoke to each other when I was fifteen, something I can only put down to Selena’s cousin’s Bastard Sangria containing more alcohol than I’d thought.

‘How are you?’ he asks.

I’d tried and failed, over the last few weeks, to recall the exact sound of his voice. It’s only now, when he speaks, that I realise how familiar it is, virtually identical to when he was a teenager except, perhaps, for a note of awkwardness.

Which both warms and surprises me. He is six months older than me and, when we were young, this seemed of huge significance: he was brimming with confidence. As far as my dad was concerned this made him ‘cocky’, but personally, I loved it. He was the opposite of me – and being his girl meant I felt like I could take on the world.

‘I’m good. Really good – thank you,’ I manage. ‘It’s lovely to hear from you.’

He laughs. ‘Well, you are probably wondering why, after . . . I don’t know, twelve years . . . the guy you used to listen to Nirvana with in your little bedroom is phoning you up, out of the blue.’

My heart flutters in my chest. ‘That question had crossed my mind, yes.’

‘I’m not sure how much your mum told you, but I’ve moved back to the UK, to Manchester. I’ve got a job here.’

‘Oh God,’ I blurt out. ‘I mean . . . wow. What is it you do?’

‘I followed in Dad’s footsteps and became a civil engineer,’ he explains. ‘I thought I’d seen you in the Northern Quarter a few weeks ago. Well, I wasn’t sure – it might have been someone else.’ I decide to say nothing. ‘Anyway, it got me thinking about how nice it’d be to see what you were up to these days. You don’t mind me phoning, do you?’

‘Of course not. It’s really . . . actually, it’s amazing to hear from you,’ I say, unable to stop the truth spilling out of my mouth. ‘I’ve wondered over the years what became of you.’

‘Well, I looked you up on Facebook once – but you’re not on it, are you?’

‘I am actually, but my privacy settings mean I’m not easily found,’ I confess.

‘Woman of mystery,’ he teases. ‘Very you, Gems – I like it.’

Until this moment, I’d completely forgotten he called me Gems, especially when he was in a flirtatious mood. The thought makes my insides fizz.

‘So . . .’ my head spins as I attempt to think of an appropriate topic for small talk, ‘are you married?’ Oh no! I wince, realising I’m giving the impression I’ve spent twelve years pining by my window in the hope that he’ll ride up on a stallion and sweep me off for a small but intimate ceremony at Gretna Green.

He seems unfazed.

‘No. No significant others, I’m afraid.’ I wonder for a moment who the blonde was, but he doesn’t offer the information and I decide I’ve pried enough already.

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