The Five-Year Plan: The utterly heart-warming and feel good rom com of 2020 Read online

  About the Author

  CARLA BURGESS was born in Solihull and now lives in Chester with her husband, three children, dog and bearded dragon. Her love of books was sparked when she borrowed Ghost Ship to Ganymede by Robert Swindells from her primary school library and devoured it in one night. It was just after this that she started writing her own stories and inflicting them on family and friends. She began her working life as an editor on a trade magazine where she dreamed of writing about romance instead of tubing, but still felt privileged to be working with words. She has a degree in English literature and psychology, and loves animals, the countryside and the sea. Carla’s debut novel, Marry Me Tomorrow, released in 2016, became a bestseller. For more information about Carla, you can follow her on Twitter @MsBear123, on Facebook at www.facebook.com/carlaburgesswriter/ or on her website www.carlaburgessauthor.com

  Also by Carla Burgess

  Meet Me at Willow Hall

  Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

  Stuck With You

  Marry Me Tomorrow

  The Five-Year Plan

  CARLA BURGESS

  HQ

  An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2020

  Copyright © Carla Burgess 2020

  Carla Burgess asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

  E-book Edition © March 2020 ISBN: 9780008378783

  Version: 2020-01-27

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  About the Author

  Also by Carla Burgess

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Keep Reading …

  About the Publisher

  For Mum, thank you for everything x

  Chapter 1

  Present day – London, UK

  ‘How did you get invited to this exhibition, Orla?’ Emma turns to look at me, her loose black hair streaking back from her face as the wind howls down the street towards us. It’s a horrible night, and I feel bad for inviting her out in such awful weather, but she seemed eager enough when I told her about it this afternoon. ‘I can’t believe you’ve got an opening night invitation to Aiden Byrne’s exhibition. The Aiden Byrne! Do you know him or something?’

  ‘Yes, kind of. Well, used to, anyway,’ I say, side-stepping a sodden newspaper that takes sudden flight and tries to wrap itself around my legs. That’d be all I need, to see Aiden again with wet paper stuck to my tights! It’s bad enough my hair feels like it’s coming loose from the glamorous up-do I had done this afternoon. I’d intended to arrive looking chic and sophisticated, but at this rate I’m going to look like I’ve come on a motorbike. ‘Why? Have you heard of him?’

  ‘Of course I’ve heard of him!’ Emma says. ‘I wouldn’t have agreed to come out in this storm if I hadn’t!’

  ‘Really? How?’

  Aiden’s not that famous, surely? Okay, he’s getting bigger, otherwise he wouldn’t be having an exhibition at the Hayward Gallery, but still, I’m surprised Emma knows who he is.

  ‘Are you joking?’ Emma throws me an incredulous look. ‘He’s done all those wildlife documentaries! Everyone knows who he is now. Besides, I have lots of friends who are environmental activists, and they think he’s really cool.’

  I absorb this information with some amazement, though I shouldn’t really be surprised. Aiden had a bit of a cult following even when I knew him five years ago, so it stands to reason that will have grown, especially with the documentaries being televised. Of course, I knew about them, and though I’ve not watched any myself, I’m aware they’ve been well received.

  ‘You can’t know him very well then!’ Emma says, crossly. ‘I thought you were going to introduce me to him. I wanted a selfie! I told all my friends and everything!’

  I can’t help laughing. Emma’s our new trainee reporter, and even though she’s impressed me with her sparky enthusiasm and intelligence, on occasions she’ll revert into stroppy teenager mode. I like her though. Her cheekiness reminds me of my younger sister, and I’ve kind of taken her under my wing since she started working on the paper. Hence the invite to tonight’s exhibition. She can do a write-up for the What’s On section, and I get a wingman that will make this feel like a work assignment instead of a social event.

  And I badly need this to feel like a work assignment.

  No one was more surprised than I was when the invitation arrived in the post five weeks ago. As soon as I saw it, I decided not to go, intending to write a polite note wishing him luck. But the note never got written, and somewhere along the line I realised I couldn’t not go to such a major exhibition when I’m a newspaper reporter with an entertainment section to fill. So instead I confirmed my attendance with a plus one, thinking I’d ask my boyfriend James. But that didn’t seem right either. After all, I’d hate to meet Aiden’s girlfriend.

  Oh no, what if Aiden has a girlfriend? Or a wife!

  ‘We don’t have to go, you know.’ I stop walking abruptly. ‘We can just go home, pretend it wasn’t on. I doubt we’ll actually speak to him.’

  ‘Oh no!’ Emma sounds contrite, thinking her stroppiness has caused my sudden change of heart. ‘I didn’t mean it. It’ll just be good to be in the same room as him, really. I don’t care about talking to him, or the selfie! Ignore me, you know what I’m like.’ She carries on walking, and I feel duty-bound to follow, all the while thinking of excuses why Emma should go in on her own. But before I know it, we’re at the gallery doors and my pulse is going haywire in panic.

  I can’t see Aiden again, I can’t see Aiden again, I can’t see Aiden again.

  ‘You must know him a little bit though,’ Emma’s saying as she pulls open the door and steps inside. ‘I saw the invite on your desk and it was addressed to you personally. It wasn’t just for random newspaper staff or the entertainment editor, it was directly to
you. In gold embossed lettering.’

  ‘Well, I knew him a long time ago, but he probably invited lots of people that work in the media. He must want the publicity.’

  The nerves I’ve been battling all day threaten to overwhelm me as we go inside and join the queue for the cloakroom. I didn’t sleep last night, and I haven’t been able to eat since breakfast. Now I feel hollow and light-headed, my hands shaking from the day’s excess caffeine consumption. At least that’s the reason I tell myself they’re shaking.

  ‘Did you guys fall out or something?’ Emma asks, curiously.

  ‘No, no. Nothing like that,’ I say, my eyes darting all over the place. To my relief, the gallery is full of people and the air is buzzing with laughter and conversation. Of course, Aiden has a huge number of friends. As a wildlife photographer and conservationist, he travels all over the world and his kindness and friendly nature naturally draw people to him. There are bound to be all sorts of people from all sorts of places here. He’s going to be so busy catching up with other friends that I’m sure I’ll be able to avoid him all night. I square my shoulders, feeling slightly calmer than before. Maybe I could manage a friendly wave from a distance, just to say I’ve shown my face. My stomach dips as the thought of any contact, however small, sends my heart racing.

  Just knowing he’s here in London frays my nerves. All week I’ve been thinking that I’ve seen him out of the corner of my eye, standing at bus stops or walking down the street, but it’s never him when I’ve turned to look.

  I hate the hope. I hate the disappointment. I hate that I still feel like this after all this time.

  When Aiden and I said goodbye five years ago, I vowed never to see him again. We hadn’t fallen out or anything. Far from it, in fact. We parted amicably, lovingly, but we’d run our course. Aiden had an assignment in India, and I was just starting out as a newspaper reporter. Our lives were going in different directions and we always knew our relationship was temporary. We needed a clean break. Emailing him every week and seeing him whenever he came back to the UK wasn’t ever going to help me move on.

  Not that I’ve done a great job of moving on anyway. Still, there was no need for him to know that. Aiden’s a free spirit. One of life’s wanderers. There’s no question in my mind that he’ll have moved on by now.

  He probably barely remembers me.

  ‘Wow! Nice dress!’ Emma says as I peel off my coat and pass it to the girl behind the desk.

  ‘Thank you.’ I glance down at it, pleased she thinks so. It’s knee-length and black with sparkly silver embroidery. It cost a small fortune but I wanted to look good tonight, for my own self-esteem more than anything else. I chose a dress that made me look sophisticated and successful, as different from the girl he used to know as possible. I pat my hair self-consciously. ‘Is my hair alright? It hasn’t come down, has it?’

  ‘No, it’s fine.’ Emma checks round the back. ‘Just a bit wispy at the front, but nothing bad. Just sexy. Can we find the toilets? I need to brush mine through.’

  ‘Yes.’ I feel like hugging her, I’m so relieved that I get a few minutes’ grace before entering the exhibition. We find the toilets and I reapply my lipstick as Emma brushes her hair.

  ‘I’m nervous,’ she whispers. ‘I’ve never been to one of these before. You won’t leave me, will you?’

  ‘Of course not.’ I smile at her, making an effort to pull myself together. Emma’s young, and she’s bound to find this all a little overwhelming. ‘It will be fine. There’ll be champagne and nibbles and we’ll look at his amazing photographs. And if we get a chance to speak to Aiden, we’ll ask him some questions and get that selfie, and if not, no big deal.’

  Please don’t let us get a chance to speak to him. Please let him be too busy.

  I take a deep breath in. ‘Right, let’s go.’

  She beams at me and I smile bravely back as I pull open the door and step into the gallery. The hum of conversation is much louder here, accompanied by the clink of glasses and tinkling piano music. Aiden’s photographs are displayed on huge canvasses on the white walls – the first is a huge owl with enormous amber eyes, its feathers so textured and lifelike that I feel I could stroke it.

  ‘Wow!’ I hear Emma say from behind. ‘These are amazing.’

  A waitress passes me a glass of champagne and I accept it gratefully, downing it in one long gulp as Emma sips hers slowly, looking around with her huge dark eyes. My glass is instantly refilled by another waiter and I try to take more measured sips, aware that getting plastered would not be wise.

  Aiden’s photographs are captivating. Emma and I move from image to image, discussing them as we go. They’re linked to the devastating effects of climate change, and between the beautiful striking images of animals, there are photographs of wildfires, deforestation, flooded villages, dried-up river beds, and emaciated wolves and polar bears.

  ‘These images are so powerful,’ Emma says, her eyes full of tears. ‘I can’t bear it.’ She’s looking at a photograph of a dead rhino, its horn removed by a poacher, while I’m still staring at the forest fire with fear stirring my gut. All I can think is how close was he to that fire? Did he put himself in danger for these images? Exactly how far will he go to get the perfect shot?

  It’s hard to believe that Aiden has been to these far-flung places and seen all these amazing things. He’s lived a whole other life since I saw him last. It doesn’t seem possible the small part I played in his past could mean anything to him now. If ever I needed confirmation that Aiden and I are completely incompatible, this is it. Tears burn behind my eyes and I struggle to keep my chin from wobbling. I should never have come here. I want to go home.

  But Emma is talking animatedly to me about the photographs, drawing me on to the next one and the next one. I’m glad she’s with me, with her bright, bubbly personality distracting me from my thoughts. We turn a corner and find a wall covered in a montage of images of plastic-covered beaches, and plastic floating in the ocean. There are terrible photographs of animals trapped in plastic and plastic trapped in animals. It’s horrifying and we stare and stare.

  ‘I’m definitely going to reduce my plastic usage,’ Emma says. ‘It’s so difficult though. Everything is covered in the stuff these days. Have you seen those eco bricks?’

  ‘Where you fill a plastic bottle with unrecyclable plastic and they get used for building things?’

  ‘Yeah. I’m so going to do one of those.’

  ‘Orla?’

  I freeze. Aiden’s deep Irish voice makes every hair on my body stand up and I turn slowly, my heart lodged somewhere near my throat. I’ve prepared my face into a smile, but I can’t help the shock that registers when I actually see him. His beard and his long dark curly hair are gone, and instead he’s clean-shaven with short back and sides. Even stranger than that, he’s wearing a black suit and tie. I can’t believe my eyes.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ I laugh in disbelief as pure joy courses through my veins at the sight of him. All thoughts of being friendly but distant are instantly forgotten. ‘What’s happened to you? Where’s the hair? Where are the clothes? What have you done with the real Aiden?’

  He laughs and scratches the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. ‘I thought I’d better smarten myself up. How are you? You look beautiful.’ Stepping forward, he kisses me on both cheeks, a light hand on my arm. My heart kicks in my chest and I feel hot. So hot.

  ‘I’m well, thank you. This is … all of it … is just amazing.’ I indicate the photos on the walls with a swirl of my arm. ‘Congratulations, Aiden. I’m so prou … pleased for you.’ My throat constricts with emotion and I swallow hard as I turn to Emma. ‘This is Emma,’ I say, my voice wobbling slightly. ‘She works on the newspaper with me. Emma, this is Aiden.’

  ‘Hello, Emma.’ Aiden smiles and shakes her hand. ‘Thank you for coming tonight.’

  ‘Oh, it’s my pleasure!’ Emma looks like she’s going to explode with excitement. ‘I couldn’t believe it when O
rla asked me to come with her tonight. I was so excited and your work is just amazing. Your photographs are just like wow! I’m going to be writing a review of your exhibition in our What’s On guide, if that’s alright with you?’

  ‘Sure. That’d be wonderful. Thank you so much.’ His eyes return to mine and my stomach fills with butterflies. ‘You achieved your five-year plan, I see. You’re living in London and working on one of the big newspapers?’

  ‘I am!’ I say, proudly.

  He opens his mouth to say something but Emma speaks first, diverting his attention back to her.

  ‘Can I ask you a few questions? They won’t take long. I know you must be very busy tonight, with lots of people wanting to speak to you.’

  He gives her a lopsided smile and shrugs. ‘Of course. I’d be happy to answer your questions.’

  I stand to one side as Emma takes her phone from her bag, checking it’s alright to record him. He agrees and she begins the interview. I can’t stop staring at him. He’s looks so together. Like someone who actually lives indoors and knows what day of the week it is. It’s hard to believe this is the same scruffy, shaggy man I fell in love with all those years ago. But his eyes, as green as a forest pool and ringed with thick black lashes, are the same ones I gazed into when we made love, and he still carries the same gentle air of deep calm he always did.

  He turns his head and catches me staring, and my stomach turns over as I drop my gaze.

  It was a mistake to come here and see him again. It does no good to stir up all these feelings. Aiden belongs in the past. A beautiful memory. Hazy summer days spent lying in his arms in shady green woodland, the sound of birdsong and the river running next to us filling our ears. Butterfly kisses on my neck, and a feeling of such utter love that I could have died then and there and been happy. My Aiden. I loved him so much. Will seeing him tonight affect my memory of that perfect time? I’m disturbed by how different he looks. Disturbed by how much I’m still drawn to him. But I know there’s no going back. Not now, not ever. Our lives are too different.