Just for the Rush. Jane Lark

are we going?’ Please God tell me we were not walking around to the local Chinese that we went to at least once a month, at least let it be somewhere different.

      ‘You’ll find out.’

      Oh, whoopee! A surprise! How fucking radical! I was such a mean bitch to him at times in my head, even though I would never say the words aloud. He was too nice to be sworn at.

      A black cab waited outside our two-storey flat in a terrace in a London suburb.

      Rick walked ahead and opened the door of the taxi. ‘Here.’ He held the door as I got in, then sat next to me and pulled the door closed.

      Sometimes the glass walls on my prison closed in and became solid.

      ‘Did they tell you the address I gave when they took the booking?’ he asked the driver.

      ‘Yep.’

      ‘Great, thanks.’

      I looked out at the houses illuminated by the streetlights. The year was heading towards mid-winter. Christmas. Time was going so fast. I held my clutch bag with both hands because I didn’t feel like holding Rick’s hand. We’d had loads of settling-down conversations this year, and the number of them had been building since September. ‘Do you want kids?’ ‘What would you prefer first, a boy or a girl?’ ‘Where would you get married if you had a choice of anywhere?’ ‘Do you see us always living in London?’

      Maybe that was the problem – I didn’t see me and Rick always doing anything. I could never imagine the future. I only thought about now. And since I’d been depressed, I couldn’t even imagine being happy again. So why would I care about five years from now?

      Rick had ignored my lack of enthusiasm every time I’d shrugged off his questions, with comments like, ‘I never thought about it.’ I’m not sure if I want kids.’ ‘I’m too young to think about that.’ ‘We’re fine as we are, aren’t we?’ ‘Isn’t living here, okay?’

      The cab driver put the left-hand indicator on. There was no street to turn into. ‘Oh.’

      ‘Yeah,’ Rick answered.

      The cab turned into the car park of the boutique hotel that was just up the street from us. The taxi had been a decoy; we could have walked. But at least it was something different. We hadn’t been here before and I’d heard good things about the restaurant.

      The cab stopped and Rick got out without paying, so I suppose he’d already covered it.

      When we walked up to the door leading to the reception, his arm lifted and hung around my shoulders. My heart thumped. I was so miserable I felt uncomfortable when he touched me. But possibly because I felt guilty about being such a bitch to him in my head.

      Sex was the worst. Sex had become endurance, and that was cruel. Because he played rugby, so he had a good body; it shouldn’t be awful to do it with him. But it was.

      I kept telling myself it was the depression, and he was really understanding, as ever. He didn’t push me if I said I wasn’t in the mood, and he kept telling me I’d get better. I’d kept telling myself that the depression would go away too. But I didn’t feel like it would.

      The hotel had a fun vibe; the walls were decorated with dark glass and deep-purple colours, and there were gilt accessories everywhere.

      He smiled at the receptionist as we walked past, then pointed at a door as his arm slid off my shoulders. ‘Go on.’

      I pushed the door, but it didn’t open easily. I had to push both of the double doors to get either one to open. Then the music kicked in, Katy Perry’s ‘Birthday’. The room was dark but at the far end disco lights were flashing, green, mauve, pink and blue.

      ‘Surprise!’ The room full of people yelled at me.

      I turned to look at Rick. He grinned at me. ‘You said you wanted to do something different.’

      ‘Yes.’ I could hardly breathe. I hadn’t imagined this. See. He was soooo nice. Sooo thoughtful. How could I not love him any more? Or had I never loved him and only just started realising it? Maybe I’d grasped at all his niceness because he’d loved me, and how could I have turned my back on that?

      ‘Ivy, darling.’

      ‘Mum.’

      ‘He is a clever boy, isn’t he? You didn’t have a clue, did you, when you spoke to me this morning?’

      I shook my head as Mum hugged me.

      Then Dad hugged me. ‘Happy Birthday, darling.’

      ‘Hello, dear.’ Rick had even managed to get my frail Nan here. I hugged her too.

      ‘Ah! You look gorgeous!’ My best friend, Milly, squealed, before wrapping her arms around me. ‘I’ve been bursting to let this slip for weeks. Steve has been threatening to stitch my lips up.’

      The stream of my family and Rick’s family and our friends, who wanted to wish me well, kept coming and they all thought Rick was amazing for doing this for me. I hadn’t even taken my coat off yet.

      ‘Let me take your coat.’ Rick was still near me. I turned and then his hands were holding my coat on my shoulders so I could take my arms out. Soooo nice.

      ‘Good job, mate.’ Steve slapped Rick’s shoulder. Steve, Milly’s partner, was Rick’s best friend. It made for perfect couples’ nights out – or in, my inner voice snapped sarcastically. I was such a bitch in my head.

      ‘Come and dance.’ Milly grabbed my hand.

      ‘I’ll get you a drink! A G&T?’ Rick shouted after me.

      I nodded.

      I should be happy. I still felt sick and miserable. I was glad I could dance, though. Glad I was dancing and not sitting at a table facing Rick on my own, and I was going to get drunk.

      Maybe Rick was right. Maybe this would pass. Maybe if I hung on, tomorrow I’d wake up and be madly in love with him and happy again.

      But I couldn’t remember when I’d been truly happy. Had I ever been properly happy?

      Not for years.

      I danced a lot and Rick kept handing me glasses of gin and tonic.

      I drowned myself in the music and gin, to the point that I didn’t care that the hem of my dress had ridden up to the top of my thighs and was way too short and probably showing off the lacy tops of my holdup stockings.

      When the DJ started playing slow songs Rick came over. I’d kicked my heels off in the centre of the circle of friends I’d been dancing with. I put them back on as Rick held my arm, steadying me.

      ‘Are you having a good night?’ he whispered into my ear.

      ‘Yes, thank you.’

      ‘You’re welcome.’

      Suddenly the music stopped playing and the lights went on. I blinked.

      Rick descended on to one knee.

      No! No!

      ‘Ivy, you know how much I love you, and I have loved you for a long time.’

      Shit! Shit! Why was he doing this now? Why here, in front of everyone? Oh, my God. Rick!

      ‘So, I thought it was time…’ His hand went down and dug into the pocket of his black trousers. ‘…to…’ he glanced up and gave me a grin as he was still struggling with his pocket. But then his hand came up and between his finger and thumb a solitaire diamond caught the electric light and sparkled.

      Oh, my God.

      ‘… ask you to marry me. Will you marry me, Ivy?’

      My mouth opened, but I didn’t say a word. My throat was dry. Shit. Shit! Why had he done this? ‘I…’ I couldn’t say yes. I couldn’t. ‘I’m sorry.’ I swallowed,