Page 70 of The Honeymoon Affair

‘Jeez, way to make me feel like a child,’ I say, sounding like a mulish teenager.

‘I don’t mean it like that,’ says Charles. ‘What I mean is – this isn’t something I would’ve done years ago. I’d have thought it through, waited patiently, weighed up the options . . .’

‘Have you created a bucket list for next year?’

‘No,’ he says. ‘I’ve created a priority list. And I only have one priority on it.’

‘A number one bestseller spot for A Caribbean Calypso.’

‘Not that,’ he says. ‘Although perhaps that’s in second place.’

‘So what’s top of your list?’

‘This.’ He clears his throat. ‘Iseult O’Connor, Izzy, I love you. Will you marry me?’

I think my jaw literally drops.

And I look at him without saying a word.

Chapter 20

Ariel

Old words are reborn with new faces.

Criss Jami

It’s a more raucous party than usual. People are chugging back the champagne like lemonade, and part of me wishes I’d ordered a cheaper Prosecco instead. But I dismiss the thought. People expect the best at Charles’s New Year’s Eve party, and that’s what they’ll always get. I want them to have a great time with good vibes and remember it when his book comes out. I know he’s an award-winning author, but I’m leaving no stone unturned.

It’s nearly midnight and I’ve done enough schmoozing. I need to find Charles and get people out into the garden for the fireworks. If we don’t go now, half of them will be stuck inside when the clock strikes twelve. But then I see him and he’s shouting at everyone to move outside. I hurry over to him and ask him where the hell he was, say that I was beginning to worry, and he tells me to chill out, that everything’s fine. I follow him to the garden, where he jumps up onto the box (my heart is in my mouth, it’s not very sturdy) and begins the countdown. When we get to midnight, the fireworks go off and everyone claps, and Charles jumps down again and kisses me.

He’s such a good kisser. He always was. He kisses you like you’re the most important person in the world. And no matter what we’ve gone through, I hope I’m still the most important person in his world. Because even with all the changes in our lives, he’s still the most important person in mine.

‘Did you make any resolutions for this year?’ I ask when we part.

‘Maybe.’

‘To write a series of murder mysteries?’

‘God, no.’

‘To write another Booker winner?’

‘If only.’

‘To get another screen adaptation?’

‘That’s your department, not mine.’

‘If I made New Year’s resolutions, that would definitely be one of them,’ I assure him. ‘Absolutely. Hopefully we’ll close the TV deal on An Autumn Story soon. As well as which, Snow in Summer is great mini-series material. I have some irons in the fire there and Shelley’s totally on top of it, but I don’t want to count our chickens until they’re strutting down the road with Amazon Prime seared into their chests.’

He laughs. It’s such a lovely, rich laugh.

‘I’m going inside,’ I say. ‘It’s bloody freezing out here.’

‘I’ll be in in a moment.’

‘New Year’s cigar?’