The First Last Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page A

make any decision yet. If you’re not ready to go, this can wait. This isn’t about me, or what I think. It’s about you. If you can’t face doing what we’ve talked about, have you thought about taking a smaller step, you know, moving to your parents or something?’ I nod and he squeezes my hand and I catch my breath. ‘I know it feels disloyal, but we knew it would come to this . . . eventually.’ He stands up and lets go of my hand and I suddenly feel bereft. Then he smiles gently and I have this urge to touch him. I want to feel his strength seep into my body.
    ‘I’m always here for you, OK?’
    ‘I know, Charlie.’ I look at him thankfully and wonder how I’d ever cope without him. I know it’s wrong but I can’t help myself and I lean forward and kiss him.

8.30 a.m.
    The wine bottles fall into the bin with a clunk and I wince; why is it that the act of pouring wine into a glass is so deliciously satisfying and melodic but the act of getting rid of it smacks of shame and discordancy? Even though I was wise enough to resist its charms at the farewell drinks last night, watching everyone else succumb definitely made me want it more. Like a man you know is bad for you – and I’ve sure been there before. An image of him appears in my mind suddenly, exactly as he looked the night of our work Christmas party at Soho House. That wolfish, self-satisfied smirk that said ‘I will have you’, his intense hooded eyes, the sexy shadow of stubble. I thought I’d disposed of him years ago – why now? I clutch the top of the black bag and the wine bottles clatter noisily into a new position. This moving business is messing with my head. I’ll be glad when it’s all over. I hastily tie up the bag and take it out to the back door.
    Just then Sally stalks past, tail in the air – the stuck-up so-and-so. She’s welcomed excitedly by Harry, who winds around my legs and purrs at her. She’s looking rather bedraggled. Neither of them is happy about the move but they’re dealing with it in very different ways. Sally is the errant teen, showing her displeasure by staying out all night whereas Harry’s clingy, homely nature has been amplified by the upheaval. But they are united in their bewilderment of the change. I’ve tried telling them to trust me when I say that we’re going somewhere that will be better for all of us, but I’m not sure they believe me. I understand that it’s hard for them, but I keep telling them that the end of one thing can mean the beginning of something new. I just hope I’m right.

The Remorseful Kiss
    Is there such a thing as a life without any regrets? I’ve never believed so. We spend our lives aiming for happiness and fulfilment in work, in love and with our friends and family, and yet often our energy is spent lamenting bad boyfriends, wrong career turns, fallouts with friends and opportunities missed. Or is that just me? I admit I’m naturally a glass-half-empty kind of girl, but I know regrets are a burden to happiness and I’m trying to let go of them because I’ve learned that it’s all about choice. You can choose to turn regrets into lessons that change your future. Believe me when I say I’m really trying to do this. But the truth is, I’m failing. Because all I can think right now is: maybe I deserve it. Maybe this is my penance.

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    ‘Casey?’ I wail after listening to Casey’s voicemail message. I’m staggering through the streets of Soho, one of many late-night revellers who have partaken of too much ‘Christmas spirit’.
    ‘Please answer,’ I moan, hiccupping with tears. ‘I know you’re probably at work but I need to talk to you. I really, really need to talk to you. I’ve done something terrible. Something . . . unforgivable.’ I start sobbing again and press the call-end button.
    I gaze up at the Christmas lights. A saucy Santa in a Soho shop window taunts me and in the distance the chorus of ‘Santa Claus Is Coming To Town’ is