Page 69 of Road Trip to the Riviera
She nods, smiling.
Afterwards, I shake Louis’s hand, pulling him in for a hug, then hug Summer too. She feels delicate in my arms, like I’mhugging a flower, and I’m really careful not to squeeze her too hard. Sarah follows my lead, and even Vivian manages to put an arm around Louis and momentarily hold Summer’s hand. Everyone’s happy and relaxed and full of bubbles as we pose for photos in the sunshine.
After the meal is done and Summer and Louis have had their first dance, everyone kind of disperses. Summer and Louis are sitting on a bench with her parents, laughing and drinking champagne. Greg seems to have wandered off somewhere, and Vivian is directing the caterers. Sarah went to her room about an hour ago, saying she felt tired.
I grab a bottle of champagne and an enormous bowl of crisps nobody seems to have touched and go to find her.
‘Come in,’ she says when I knock tentatively on the door.
She’s sitting on the bed, leg up on a pillow, reading something on her phone.
‘Work?’ I ask.
She shakes her head. ‘No, I did a bit earlier, but Peter’s being great about taking things off my plate for a bit. Whatever you said to him when I was ill must have really hit home.’
‘I doubt I had anything to do with it. Maybe he just loves you.’
She looks at me askance. ‘Did he say that?’
I hope I haven’t overstepped. ‘Not in so many words.’
We fall silent for a moment, then I brandish the champagne. ‘Refreshment?’
‘Oh, go on then, if you insist.’
I fill a couple of champagne flutes and then perch on the edge of her bed. We mock-clink them. ‘To Louis and Summer,’ I say.
‘To Louis and Summer.’
We each take a sip, and I notice her screwing her nose up a little at the bubbles. I’d forgotten she did that whenever she drank something carbonated, and have a sudden memory of a McDonald’s meal we shared a thousand years ago.
The years between then and now seemed long, day by day. But looking back at them now, I’m astonished they’ve all passed.
‘It’s weird. I know Louis left home a few years ago, really. I mean, when he went to university. He was back and forth but…’
‘It feels different now,’ she confirms.
‘At least you won’t have to put up with me popping in to see him.’
‘Yeah.’
I take a crisp and the crunching sound seems to fill the room disproportionately. I try to chew more slowly, quietly, then notice Sarah’s eyes on me. ‘What?’
‘What on earth are you doing with that crisp? Sucking it like a sweet?’
‘It just sounded… loud.’
She laughs and it’s such a beautiful sound. ‘For God’s sake,’ she says, grabbing a handful and shoving them into her mouth. She crunches noisily, her mouth half open.
Grinning, I do the same.
Challenge accepted, she takes another handful and squashes it into her already overfilled mouth.
My own mouth is dry and salty and I’m on the verge of choking but I do the same again.
Then the giggles start. I see her shoulders shake and try to keep myself calm. But there it is, the laughter rising inside me. I let out a guffaw that sends shards of crisp flying in all directions. She swallows some of her mouthful then. ‘Gross!’ she says, around the edge of what’s left in her gob.
She takes a handful of crisps and throws them at me, and I reciprocate.
