You're the One That I Want (30 page)

‘It’s been wonderful. Thank you,’ I smiled, trying to ward off the tears that had been threatening to spill.

I’d never been so disappointed.

The following night, Robert suggested we take a walk and just see where we found that was nice for dinner. I was happy with that suggestion. Knowing how expensive the
previous night had been, I expected Robert would be on the lookout for somewhere cheap and cheerful.

We wandered back down the Champs Elysées and through the Jardin des Tuileries (our feet seemed to automatically take us that way after having walked the route so often).

Robert stopped before the Louvre.

‘I’m getting hungry now. Want to walk up there and see if there’s anything good?’ he asked, casually pointing up one of the roads.

‘Yeah,’ I shrugged, not too fussed.

I recognized La Ferme des Beauvais, the restaurant we’d visited with school, straight away. Perched on the corner with windows that covered the breadth of the external walls, displaying its name in silver-framed red lettering that curved like a rainbow on each pane of glass – although the lettering had started to peel at its corners.

‘Are you sure that’s it?’ Robert asked with a frown, not looking too impressed with the place.

‘Positive,’ I squealed.

‘If you say so,’ he said dismissively.

‘We have to eat in there.’

‘Really? I don’t remember their food being the most amazing thing I’d ever eaten,’ he said, looking up the road and squinting at the other restaurants to find something better.

‘I don’t care. Come on,’ I said, as I pulled him inside.

It was exactly as I’d remembered – the same red tablecloths covered the tables, upon which were tealights and single red roses. Even the pictures on the walls were still the same.

‘Surely you recognize it now?’

‘Yeah, I guess. A bit,’ he shrugged.

I asked the waiter to seat us at the same table we were at before, causing Robert to laugh at me.

‘What?’

‘Nothing. You’re cute,’ he said with a wink. ‘I like it when you’re sentimental.’

‘I want us to order the same too.’

‘Really? You don’t fancy trying snails?’

‘Yuck, no,’ I protested, screwing up my face.

‘Okay. I’m up for that.’

‘Although we are getting a dessert.’

‘Of course. And wine.’

I gasped jokingly, ‘What would Miss James say?’

Spaghetti Bolognese was ordered and eaten, washed down with French bread and copious amounts of red wine. Needless to say, it wasn’t to the same standard of fine dining we’d experienced the night before, but we didn’t care. We were relaxed, talking and laughing, making the most of each other’s company.

Once our plates had been cleared away and dessert ordered (I’d gone for a chocolate and hazelnut pastry), Robert started to stare at me with a gooey expression, his face softening and a loving smile appearing.

‘What?’ I asked, a little perturbed – he rarely looked at me like that.

‘Nothing. You’re just so beautiful.’

It was at that point that the ever-familiar piano intro to ‘All my Life’ started playing through the restaurant speakers, prompting Robert to stand up and turn to me, as he gestured for my hand.

‘What?’ I giggled.

‘Can I have this dance?’

‘Here? We can’t, people are watching,’ I whispered, looking around at the handful of other couples who were enjoying their meals.

‘I don’t care,’ he smiled, pulling me out of my seat and into his arms.

We slow danced on the spot, turning in little circles as Robert put his mouth to my ear and sang along to the words K-Ci and JoJo were singing. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the moment, thinking it was the perfect way to spend our anniversary.

Once the song had come to an end Robert stepped away from me and knelt down on one knee. Using two hands, he held up a sparkling diamond ring that he’d fished out of his jeans pocket.

‘What the –’ I started in shock.

‘I’m not done yet,’ Robert winked, stopping me from talking further. He blew out air from his cheeks, steeling himself before he continued. ‘As you know, nine years ago we shared our first kiss on this very spot. It was the start of everything for me. You’ve always been such a huge part of my life, and I seriously don’t know what I’d have done without you over the years. So, here’s the question … Maddy Hurst, will you marry me? Will you be my wife?’

‘Yes!’ I practically screamed, dragging him up from his knelt position so that I could kiss him. ‘Of course I will!’

A cheer rose from around us at my answer.

I was ecstatic.

I’m thrilled to say that in that moment no one else
entered my head. My biggest fear over the years about when that moment eventually came was that Ben would pop into my thoughts and ruin it. That somehow, my heart would hijack the occasion and use it to turn against me. But as Robert said the words, I was touched by nothing other than my utter love for him. He was offering me my forever and I couldn’t have been happier.

‘Did you ask them to play that song then?’ I asked, when we were back at our table, unable to keep from gushing manically.

‘Yeees,’ he smiled.

‘What? When I went to the loo?’

‘Do you seriously still think we came here by accident?’ He leaned his head backwards as laughter spilled from his opened mouth.

‘What?’ I asked. ‘What is it?’

It suddenly dawned on me that the whole night had been planned – our feet hadn’t just automatically walked up towards the Louvre, Robert had guided us.

‘But you didn’t even want to come in!’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘It didn’t look like it.’

‘I knew that if I’d told you I’d booked us in here you’d know I was going to propose.’

He was right, as the previous night had shown – any bit of effort on his part would have led me to that conclusion.

‘It would’ve ruined it,’ he added. ‘But I also knew that as soon as you saw this place you wouldn’t be able to resist coming in.’

‘Very clever,’ I laughed.

‘I know,’ he smiled, taking my newly ringed hand and admiring his handiwork.

The ring was absolutely stunning, but then, anything that sparkled would be. A single round diamond beautifully set in a dainty white-gold band. It was flawless.

‘When are we going to tell everyone? Who already knows?’

‘No one knows. I mean, I asked for permission last year and that was enough to get them all flapping around in a frenzy.’

‘Last year?’

‘Yes. Long story,’ he grunted, rolling his eyes. ‘But, anyway, I didn’t even tell them we were coming to Paris.’

‘No!’

I was shocked that he’d managed to keep the whole thing to himself – and plan it all on his own.

‘One of them would’ve said something. Thought you’d enjoy going round and telling them ourselves.’

‘That’s a great idea! We’ll have to do it straight away, though, there’s no way I’ll be able to keep this whole thing a secret. I want the whole frigging world to know,’ I squealed.

‘What about Ben?’

The question threw me.

‘Huh?’

‘When are we going to tell him?’

‘Did he know you were asking?’

‘No. I was going to tell him, but then all that shit with Alice happened. I didn’t want to tell him before he left, thought it would be insensitive.’

‘But that was ages ago.’

‘Yeah, thought I’d let him settle. Figured we’d tell him together. Surprise him.’

‘Let’s wait until after we tell our parents, though.’

‘Obviously.’ He lifted my ringed hand and took it to his lips, kissing it softly. ‘I love you so much.’

‘I love you too,’ I whispered.

I leaned forward and kissed him, forcing myself to focus on his lips, on the two of us together in Paris, and on the fact that Robert, who loved me so much, wanted me to be his wife. Our love was real. It had grown from the foundations laid in that very restaurant. It was offering me a future that I could depend on. I knew that I loved and trusted it.

I’d been in South America for five months, travelling from place to place. I started, as planned, in Ecuador at the Montanita Spanish School – it’s surprising how quickly you can cut off from your previous existence when you’re thousands of miles away, sat on a beach in the sunshine with new friends who know nothing about you. Needless to say, I told no one of the broken-hearted girl I’d left behind and, although I did talk about Maddy and Robert, I’d decided to not tell anyone about my other feelings. No change there, then.

I’d gone from Ecuador to Columbia, Brazil, Paraguay, Uruguay, Argentina, Chile and Bolivia, in that order. Catching buses and planes, or sometimes trekking if I was feeling super-adventurous. For the first time since university I felt liberated and carefree, ready to do anything or go anywhere that tickled my fancy – I fell in love with the sights again and again. Every day brought a new experience to treasure.

I listened to the thunder of the water at Iguazu Falls, Brazil, which was, quite awesomely, like something from
Jurassic Park
. Huge waterfalls splashed from every corner while I sat on a feeble-feeling viewing platform, unable to peel my eyes away – expecting a pterodactyl to fly
overhead at any second. I was mildly disappointed when it didn’t.

I soaked up the peaceful tranquillity of Lake Titicaca, watching the sunset as it caused a vivid array of colours to reflect on the expansive lake. Oranges, reds, pinks and purples swirled in the sky and in the water, making it appear otherworldly. Maddy would have loved it – the photographs I’d managed to take on just my bog-standard camera were insane.

Of everything I’d done on my trip by that point, sandboarding down the dunes at Huacachina, taking in the obscene view as I went, was definitely one of my highlights. Not only was I propelled off a sandy mountain at a ridiculously fast speed (it’s a wonder I didn’t scream like a girl all the way down), but the beauty of the world around me was breath-taking – massive sand dunes curved their way for miles around, eventually ending at the horizon where they were met by the deep-blue sky above. It was impossible not to feel in awe of it all.

The world was a big place with so much to offer, I was happy to greedily soak up as much as I could of it.

That day in November I’d arrived in Cusco, Peru. Getting off a long bus ride late-afternoon, I’d decided to chill in one of its town squares with a cold beer as I watched the locals around me going about their daily business. A group of old men, all wearing a mixture of grey and white trousers and shirts, had gathered on the adjacent bench to me, taking it in turns to talk passionately about something as the others keenly listened and nodded in agreement. I’d no idea what they were saying, but they were interesting to
watch. Mothers wandered past, their babies barely visible beneath the multi-coloured blankets they were tied to their bodies with. All the while, at least a dozen stray dogs roamed around to different people, seeing if anyone would offer them scraps of whatever food they were eating.

It was while I sat there, in the Peruvian sun with my Peruvian beer, that I got a text from Robert asking if I was free for a Skype chat later that day. I hadn’t spoken to him for a couple of weeks – it wasn’t always easy to keep in touch, especially if I was off somewhere remote.

As a rarity, I’d treated myself to a private room in the hostel I was staying in for a few nights, knowing that I’d be camping a couple of days later when I joined the Inca Trail. I’d known I needed to get in as much decent sleep as I could before that. So rather than having a bunch of strangers around me as I tried to make the private call, it meant I was on my own, in my little single room, when the Skype call came through a couple of hours later.

When the image appeared onscreen I was surprised to see Maddy as well as Robert. Even though I’d spoken to her a few times since I’d been away, Maddy had usually found an excuse to flit in and out as Robert talked – busying herself with making the dinner or doing the washing. Sometimes she’d miss the Skype chat altogether – insisting she’d email me later on. Which she did, most of the time. I’d get the odd couple of vague lines about how everything over there was the same as ever, perhaps get updated on what the university lot or her parents were up to, but nothing really substantial or full of thought. I’d email her back my photos – not of me, obviously, but of the places
I’d been and seen. I liked to feel like there was still some communication running between us, that I hadn’t managed to ruin everything.

I couldn’t help but smile at the rare occurrence of having her join us.

‘Mate!’ boomed Robert, shifting the screen of his laptop, which he was resting on his knees, so that they were both nicely in view.

It may have been early evening for me, but it was late at night for them in England, and as a result the pair of them looked dishevelled and sleepy as they leaned into each other, dressed in their pyjamas ready for bed. I noticed they were on their brown leather sofa in the lounge, the one I’d been staying on before I’d left.

‘Hey, guys,’ I smiled back, waving with my free hand. It’s a funny thing, I rarely waved hello at people when I greeted them in real life, but put a Skype call in front of me and it was the first thing I did. Always. Perhaps it was the novelty of being able to see people when they were miles across the other side of the world – I felt like I had to make the most of being seen, starting with that gesture.

They waved back, grinning manically at me as they did so.

I’d assumed they’d missed me.

‘Nice to see you’ve still got your colour,’ laughed Robert.

My olive skin had turned four shades darker on just my first day in Ecuador, something Robert was still shocked by every time we Skyped, continuously making it one of the first things he opted to talk about.

‘Where are you?’ asked Maddy.

‘In Cusco, Peru.’

‘That’s where Paddington Bear’s from,’ she informed me with a knowing nod.

‘Really?’

‘Yep. What’s it like?’

‘Well, allow me to give you the guided tour of tonight’s sleeping quarters,’ I said, turning my iPad to show them the bare white walls surrounding me.

‘Looks great,’ laughed Robert. ‘I like what they’ve done with the place.’

‘Yeah, I know, very inspiring. I think they’re worried that if they put anything up on the walls it’ll get pinched.’

‘They know what you travellers are like,’ Rob winked. ‘Where are you off to next?’

‘Inca Trail – four days of hiking before arriving at Machu Picchu.’

‘Sounds awesome.’

‘I can’t wait.’

I’d saved it until near the end of my stay in South America because it was one of the things I’d most wanted to see. I’d heard so many wonderful things about the ancient Inca city from other travellers who had been there – I knew I wasn’t going to be disappointed.

‘I’ve heard that’s ultra spiritual,’ smiled Maddy.

‘Here comes your awakening. You’ll be a monk before you know it,’ laughed Robert.

I didn’t bother correcting him that there weren’t really monks in Machu Picchu. I didn’t want to be an arse. Instead I just smiled and nodded.

‘So, what’s new with you two?’

At the question, something Maddy did caught my eye.
I saw her eyes widen as she glanced at Robert, a flicker of panic crossing her face as she opened her mouth to speak before closing it abruptly and pursing her lips together. Stopping herself.

Robert, however, was giddily smiling. He placed his arm around Maddy, pulling her into him as he planted a kiss on her forehead.

I knew what was coming before it was said.

‘I’ve asked Maddy to marry me!’

Maddy sprang her left hand up and flashed the sparkling ring as clarification.

I clenched my jaw while my lips formed something resembling a smile.

‘Wow. When? How?’ I fired.

I had to ask the questions to give me time to steady myself, but I wasn’t too keen on hearing the answers. I zoned out as Robert started telling me about Paris and how he’d tricked Maddy into thinking he hadn’t remembered the location of the restaurant we’d all been to. I must admit, from what I heard, it sounded romantic.

My heartache wasn’t like before when we were sixteen years old and I hadn’t known their romance was about to kick off. This time I’d known exactly what was coming – my mum had, after all, told me he was going to ask at the start of the year. Part of me had expected the news every time his name appeared on my phone screen, causing a wave of anxiety as I picked up. I felt a little soothed that the moment I’d feared had finally arrived, that I wouldn’t feel that same nausea when he called in the future.

This time I wasn’t going to sulk, or cry to my mum, and I wasn’t going to go off and sleep with another girl in a
ridiculous bid to prove the impossible to myself, because for once I realized that the moment wasn’t about me. It was about the two people I loved declaring their love for one another. I had nothing to do with it.

Being far away from home had given me the time I needed to reflect on the years I’d loved Maddy, and on everything that had happened over the previous decade and a half. Talking to other travellers, and hearing their tales of heartache, helped to put everything into perspective. Yes, it hurt, and yes, that pain was all relative to me and was real because I was living it, but I wasn’t the only one in the world to feel that way. The difference was that other people were able to come out of such times and move forward, creating happier memories, new lives. Even though I thought I was moving forward with my life before – I’d had a good job, I was engaged – deep down I was waiting, although I hadn’t told myself what for. For Robert to stray again? For Maddy to leave him? To realize she loved me? Whatever it was, it had stopped me, and that was something I’d realized while I was away. But I was the only one whose life was hindered by me pointlessly holding back. I was spoiling life for myself.

Maddy was happy. I could see that as I looked at her on my screen that day. She was visibly glowing as she gazed at Robert.

He made her happy.

She wasn’t waiting for me.

I wasn’t the guy for her.

That was when I realized that I’d never allow myself to stand between them ever again. It was yet another affirmation that I was wrong to ever have spoken up and act
on my feelings. They were always going to end up together. I should have known that from the start.

‘That all sounds magical,’ I said as Robert came to the end of whatever he was saying.

‘That’s not all, actually,’ he grinned. ‘I was wondering if you’d be my best man.’

Mum had predicted it. I’d shunned the idea.

I was speechless.

I couldn’t think of anywhere better to go and ponder over a broken heart than Machu Picchu – a deserted city built for the Inca kings on the peak of a mountain.

I was taking on that adventure with a mixture of people that the tour company had bundled together – a few travellers who’d been to almost all the same places as I had, an older couple from Canada who’d decided, after years of working hard, to stop and go see the world, and an English family with two sons who were a little younger than me. Our trek guide was a short tubby man called William, a local from Peru with limited English, meaning that, although he was eager to please, it wasn’t always possible to get the information we craved. For instance, I’d heard many different theories about why Machu Picchu was built and who for and had loads of questions about it – but each time I queried him I ended up more confused. From what I understood, Machu Picchu had been built in the fifteenth century for the Incas to live in, a sacred place built by the people to show their devotion to their kings.

The walk getting there was mind-clearing enough. Even though our bags were carried by donkeys, it was still a struggle. The altitude made it difficult to walk more than
five minutes before it swooped in and took your breath away, and when that wasn’t an issue our legs occasionally went stiff from the number of stairs we had to scramble our way up. The plus side was that it forced us to stop and take a look at the surroundings.

I’d seen photos. I knew what Machu Picchu was going to look like, but as I climbed up the final uneven steps of the Inca trail and crossed through the Sun Gates to see it for the first time, I was overcome with emotion. Perhaps it was the exhaustion that made me feel that way, but I found myself having to walk away from the group to shed a few tears.

It was the first time in over five months that I felt part of a group and not a lone traveller. Yes, there were moments when I’d spend a few days with people here and there – but being on the Inca Trail gave the group a sense of unity. We were travelling towards something and did our best to help each other get there. It made me miss home. Miss Robert and Maddy and being a part of our team.

As I sat at the mountain’s peak, overlooking the vast number of buildings that had been erected by worshippers who died to make their Inca kings happy, I thought of my two best friends. It hurt that Maddy had distanced herself so much from me and that I was becoming more of a stranger to her than someone she confided in. It was my own fault that things had become that way, but I missed her. I missed having her as a best friend to chat to every day. And as for Robert, I’d always felt like I owed him so much for always being there for me, but instead of repaying him I betrayed him. In many ways I’d started to
wish that I could take the last few years back – transport us back to the days of innocence, when everything was far less complicated.

I was twenty-one when I drunkenly told Maddy I loved her. The way I acted following that showed my lack of maturity at the time. I should have talked to her and explained how I felt, not just acted out. I dread to think how I’d look back at the whole thing in my old age, with further years of worldly wisdom to draw upon. I wondered whether I’d cheer at myself for acting on impulse and seizing the moment, or reprimand myself for betraying a friend and acting so foolishly. I had a feeling it would be the latter.