Loving Danny by Hilary Freeman Page A

matching birthmarks on our collarbones, for example, gave us a unique bond. I ignored
the probability that thousands of other people probably had a birthmark in the same place.
    Whenever I thought about Danny my heart beat faster and it brought a strange sensation – half pleasure, half nausea – to the pit of my stomach. It made me smile to myself and flush
all over. I knew that what I felt for Danny must be love – at least, this was how I’d always imagined love to be – but somehow I could never say it. Even though the things he said
and did made me fairly certain he felt the same way, there was a tiny part of me that was afraid he might not say ‘I love you’ back. What if he were to laugh? Or say, ‘Sorry,
Naomi, I like you a lot, but I don’t feel like that about you.’ I didn’t want to risk breaking the spell. Sometimes, we’d look at each other for long, silent minutes, and
the words would be on the tip of my tongue, but I’d swallow them back down again. I needed to hear them from him first.
    Christmas was an ordeal that year, because it meant four whole days away from Danny. He was spending it with friends and had invited me to join him, but I didn’t even
dare ask my parents. Missing our annual family celebration would be considered a crime almost on a par with mugging an old lady – so heinous that I might as well pack my bags and never
return. So, as always, Dad drove us up to Nottingham to stay with my uncle’s family. In the past I’d always looked forward to it. I’d enjoyed packing the car with presents to be
opened on Christmas morning and I liked spending time with my younger cousins. But that year, every mile on the motorway was another mile further from Danny. I didn’t care what my parents had
bought me (even though I got the funky speakers for my iPod that I’d wanted for months), and I couldn’t be bothered to help the little ones put batteries in their new toys. On Christmas
Day, all I was interested in was having some time to myself, so I could open Danny’s present.
    I finally unwrapped it late in the afternoon, in the guest bedroom I shared with Emily, while the children were happily playing and my older relatives were dozing on the sofas. I was like a
little girl all over again, fumbling at the shiny paper, desperate to see inside. Danny had bought me a gorgeous, sea-green cashmere sweater – the softest, most beautiful thing I’d ever
seen, let alone owned. It was almost too nice to wear. For a while, I just hugged it, as if it were a teddy bear, thinking warm thoughts about Danny and giving myself butterflies.
    Emily came into the room while I was trying it on. ‘Wow!’ she exclaimed enviously. ‘It’s lovely, Nay.’ Then she peered at the label – from a posh, designer
shop – and raised her eyebrows. ‘How can he afford it?’
    ‘I dunno,’ I said. ‘His gigs, maybe? Or his savings? I think he also got some money when his grandad died.’ But the same thought had crossed my mind. I’d pushed it
away, as I always did then. I had no time for such thoughts, for questions without resolution.
    ‘What did you get him?’
    ‘Some CDs and a really nice, leather-bound book for him to write his songs in.’
    ‘Oh,’ she said.
    ‘I know.’ I’d spent hours choosing Danny’s presents, but now they seemed inadequate.
    ‘God, Nay, he must really like you.’
    ‘Do you think?’ I asked, smiling. ‘I really miss him. I know it’s only for a few days, but it feels like forever.’
    ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘You’re really smitten.’
    ‘I think he’s the one, Em. He totally gets me, you know? I think he’s my soulmate.’
    Emily was embarrassed. We’d talked about Danny before, of course, but I hadn’t gone this far with her. She wasn’t a romantic like me and she preferred to keep her feelings
hidden. ‘I’ve never seen you like this,’ she said, for once, apparently at a loss for words. ‘I’ll leave you alone, so you can call