Me Before You: A Novel

actually stare. Instead, they did this weird thing of catching sight of Will in their field of vision and then determinedly
not
looking at him. Until he’d gone past, at which point their gaze would flicker towards him, even while they remained in conversation with someone else. They wouldn’t talk about him, though. Because that would be rude.
    As we moved through the foyer of the Symphony Hall, where clusters of smart people stood with handbags and programmes in one hand, gin and tonics in the other, I saw this response pass through them in a gentle ripple which followed us to the stalls. I don’t know if Will noticed it. Sometimes I thought the only way he could deal with it was to pretend he could see none of it.
    We sat down, the only two people at the front in the centre block of seats. To our right there was another man in a wheelchair, chatting cheerfully to two women who flanked him. I watched them, hoping that Will would notice them too. But he stared ahead, his head dipped into his shoulders, as if he were trying to become invisible.
    This isn’t going to work
, a little voice said.
    ‘Do you need anything?’ I whispered.
    ‘No,’ he shook his head. He swallowed. ‘Actually, yes. Something’s digging into my collar.’
    I leant over and ran my finger around the inside of it; a nylon tag had been left inside. I pulled at it, hoping to snap it, but it proved stubbornly resistant.
    ‘New shirt. Is it really troubling you?’
    ‘No. I just thought I’d bring it up for fun.’
    ‘Do we have any scissors in the bag?’
    ‘I don’t know, Clark. Believe it or not, I rarely pack it myself.’
    There were no scissors. I glanced behind me, where the audience were still settling themselves into their seats, murmuring and scanning their programmes. If Will couldn’t relax and focus on the music, the outing would be wasted. I couldn’t afford a second disaster.
    ‘Don’t move,’ I said.
    ‘Why –’
    Before he could finish, I leant across, gently peeled his collar from the side of his neck, placed my mouth against it and took the offending tag between my front teeth. It took me a few seconds to bite through it, and I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the scent of clean male, the feel of his skin against mine, the incongruity of what I was doing. And then, finally, I felt it give. I pulled back my head and opened my eyes, triumphant, with the freed tag between my front teeth.
    ‘Got it!’ I said, pulling the tag from my teeth and flicking it across the seats.
    Will stared at me.
    ‘What?’
    I swivelled in my chair to catch those audience members who suddenly seemed to find their programmes absolutely fascinating. Then I turned back to Will.
    ‘Oh, come on, it’s not as if they’ve never seen a girl nibbling a bloke’s collar before.’
    I seemed to have briefly silenced him. Will blinked a couple of times, made as if to shake his head. I noticedwith amusement that his neck had coloured a deep red.
    I straightened my skirt. ‘Anyway,’ I said, ‘I think we should both just be grateful that it wasn’t in your trousers.’
    And then, before he could respond, the orchestra walked out in their dinner jackets and cocktail dresses and the audience hushed. I felt a little flutter of excitement despite myself. I placed my hands together on my lap, sat up in my seat. They began to tune up, and suddenly the auditorium was filled with a single sound – the most alive, three-dimensional thing I had ever heard. It made the hairs on my skin stand up, my breath catch in my throat.
    Will looked sideways at me, his face still carrying the mirth of the last few moments.
Okay
, his expression said.
We’re going to enjoy this
.
    The conductor stepped up, tapped twice on the rostrum, and a great hush descended. I felt the stillness, the auditorium alive, expectant. Then he brought down his baton and suddenly everything was pure sound. I felt the music like a physical thing; it didn’t just sit in my ears, it flowed through me, around me, made my senses vibrate. It made my skin prickle and my palms dampen. Will hadn’t described any of it like this. I had thought I might be bored. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.
    And it made my imagination do unexpected things; as I sat there, I found myself thinking of things I hadn’t thought of for years, old emotions washing over me, new thoughts and ideas being pulled from me as if my perception itself were being stretched out of shape. It was