Cecelia Ahern - How to Fall in Love

St Anne’s Park is open all hours, though not the safest place to be at four-thirty in the morning. It had been the setting for attacks in the past and possibly a dead body or two had shown up there over the years. It wasn’t particularly well lit after dark, which was a detail I had forgotten from my teenage drinking days.

‘You’re crazy,’ he said, following as I lit the way with a torch. ‘Don’t you think it’s a bit dangerous to be wandering around here?’

‘Absolutely. But you’re big, you’ll protect me,’ I said, teeth chattering at the cold. The further we moved into the park, the more the caffeine hit wore off. The beer cans and fresh graffiti on display each morning were enough to tell me that we wouldn’t be alone in the park, but with the countdown focusing my mind, there wasn’t a second to lose. I did not want Adam’s death on my conscience or I would never sleep again.

Even with the torch I could see only a few feet ahead of me and the sun wasn’t due to rescue us for hours yet. But what I did have on my side was knowledge of the park. I grew up in that park and knew the five hundred acres like the back of my hand. But that was when it was bright; it had been at least fifteen years since I’d stumbled across the park in the dead of night, while out drinking with friends as a teenager.

Suddenly I stopped, pointed the torch left and right. Then I spun around, trying to get my bearings.

‘Christine,’ Adam said, warning in his voice.

I ignored him, trying to picture the place in full light. I took a few steps right. Then stopped, turned in the other direction.

‘Jesus, don’t tell me we’re lost.’

I didn’t say anything.

Adam shivered beside me. There were voices coming from the trees to our left. Then bottles clinked.

‘This way,’ I squeaked, heading away from the gang in the trees.

Adam was mumbling under his breath.

‘Oh, what do you care, you want to die anyway,’ I snapped.

‘Yes, but on my own terms,’ he protested. ‘Death by skanky drunk is not what I was planning.’

‘Beggars can’t be choosers,’ I found myself quoting Dad.

Thankfully we made it to the pond, and thankfully the lamps were on, to stop the likes of the gang in the trees from falling in.

‘See?’ I said, pleased with myself.

‘I’d call that luck. An odd, fucked-up luck.’

‘Well, don’t just stand there – get the lily pad.’ I stamped my feet and rubbed my gloved hands together. I felt his eyes on me.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Why else do you think I told you to bring a change of clothes?’

‘It’s minus four! I’m surprised that water hasn’t iced over. I’ll die of hypothermia.’

‘If you weren’t so choosy about your time of death, you’d make everything much easier. Well, if that’s the way it has to be …’ I took off my coat and the chill ran straight to my bones.

‘You’re not going in there.’

‘One of us has to, and you’re clearly not willing.’ I geared myself up, looked around the pond to find the right lily pad.

‘But, Christine, think about the people who love you,’ he said, mock-serious. ‘They wouldn’t want you to do this.’

I phased him out; I wasn’t leaving the park without the lily pad. From the edge of the pond I scoured the lake for the nicest pad. Some were ripped, dirty looking, and I wanted the greenest, most circular pad I could find, one that Maria could use again to hold the things she treasured and loved, and hopefully Adam’s photo frame would find itself upon it again. Maybe he’d throw his loose change on it when he came home from work before climbing into bed with Maria, or leave his watch on it while he took a shower, occasionally thinking about the crazy woman who helped him fish it out, that freezing cold night way back when he was having problems.

At last I located the one I wanted; it was rather inconveniently not the closest lily pad, but I could swim there quickly and back. It would be over in seconds. Ten seconds max. And it was a life-or-death scenario, which settled my internal wavering immediately. I wasn’t sure how deep the water was, so I rooted around the trees for a branch or loose stick, and then put it in the water to test the depth.

‘You’re actually going to do this?’

The stick stopped halfway. It wasn’t deep at all. Only a few feet. I could do this and I wouldn’t have to swim, it was just a few steps away. The pond was murky, green and scummy, but I could do this. I rolled my tracksuit pants up, high above my knees.

‘Oh my God,’ Adam laughed, realising I was actually going through with it. ‘Look, there’s one right by the edge, I could reach that one.’

I looked at it. He could reach across and retrieve it with no problem.

‘Do you think she’d look at that and think, Wow, he really loves me? It’s disgusting, it’s got something furry growing on it. Oh and look, it has a cigarette butt. I don’t think that’s the message you want to send. No, we want that one,’ I pointed to the furthest one out. ‘The one untouched by the human hand.’

‘You’re going to freeze.’

‘And then I’ll dry. I’ll get over it. As soon as I’m out, we’re running to the car.’

I got into the water. It went far higher than I’d anticipated, way past my knees, soaking my tracksuit bottoms. I felt it rise all the way to my waist. The stick had lied, or had lodged itself on a rock. I gasped. I heard Adam laughing, but was too focused to admonish him. Now that I was in, there was nothing for it but to keep going. The floor felt soft and mushy beneath me; I dreaded to think of what was in there. Reeds and dead leaves clung to me as I pushed my way through the murky water. I wondered what diseases I could catch from it, but pushed on. As soon as I was an arm’s length from the lily pad I reached for it and pulled it back with me. Five giant steps along the mushy floor and I was at the edge. Adam held his arm out and pulled me up. My tracksuit clung to my body and my clothes rained stinking pondwater. Squelching to my bag, I pulled out a towel, peeled my trousers and socks off, and quickly dried myself. Adam looked away, still laughing to himself, and I peeled my underwear off. I put my new tracksuit on, all the while gritting my teeth against the icy cold. With shaking hands I put my new socks and trainers on and changed my jumper for a warm fleece. He held my coat open for me, and I put my arms in and hugged myself. He plonked his woollen hat on my head and wrapped his arms around my body in an effort to warm me. The last time we had been in that position was when we were on the bridge and my arms had been wrapped around Adam. Now Adam’s arms were wrapped right around me. His chin rested on the top of my head and he rubbed my shoulders in an effort to keep me warm. My heart hammered at being so close to him. I wasn’t sure if it was the return of the feeling I’d experienced on the bridge or if it was merely him, his closeness, his body pressed against mine, his scent overwhelming my senses.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked, close to my ear.

I was almost afraid to turn and look at him. I daren’t speak in case my voice revealed the shakiness I felt. So I nodded, and in doing so rubbed against him even more. I wasn’t sure if I imagined it, but I felt his arms wrap tighter around me.

We heard voices approaching; deep, male, not very friendly. The moment was over as suddenly as it had come. He let go of me quickly, picked up my bag and the lily pad that was lying on the ground.

‘Come on,’ he said, and we ran back the way we came.

Once in the car, Adam turned the heater on full blast in an effort to warm me up. He was concerned, my lips had apparently turned blue and I couldn’t stop shivering.