The fallback, p.1
The Fallback, page 1
THE FALLBACK
ELEANOR GOYMER
One More Chapter a division of
HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2024
Copyright © Eleanor Goymer 2024
Cover design © Lucy Bennett/HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2024
Cover illustrations: Chloe Quinn/Astound
Eleanor Goymer asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of 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, down-loaded, 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.
Source ISBN: 9780008656577
eBook Edition © April 2024 ISBN: 9780008656560
Version: 2024-02-26
For Charlie
Contents
Prologue
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
Acknowledgments
Credits
About the Author
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About the Publisher
Prologue
THEN
Rosie nervously patted the pockets in her black cargo pants, confirming once more that she had her phone in one of them and her Oyster card in the other. She wondered how long it would take her to get used to carrying a train ticket with her at all times. Probably about as long as it would take to get served a drink in this pub by the looks of it. She adjusted the strap on her rucksack, easing the weight a little between her shoulders, and looked meaningfully along the length of the bar, which was sticky and littered with damp beer towels. It was hardly a bustling pub, but the barman looked like he had all the time in the world and didn’t mean to spend it serving anyone a drink.
Rosie took out her phone and checked it, hoping she hadn’t got the wrong pub. He had said 4pm, hadn’t he? She looked up at the clock on the wall above the bar to double check; it was yellowed with age and cigarette smoke, and she couldn’t be sure it was accurate, but it agreed with her phone and therefore he was already six minutes late.
Six minutes wasn’t long, but it was long enough when you didn’t know the city, were wondering if you were even in the right pub and you were waiting to meet a potential flatmate. Rosie tried once again to catch the barman’s eye but he either hadn’t noticed her yet or was now deliberately ignoring her. Rosie suspected the latter and decided there and then she needed to work on her drink-ordering skills if she was ever going to make London her home.
‘Are you Rosie?’ Rosie turned and looked up. She hadn’t noticed him walk up the stairs and into the pub, but she knew at once he must be Mitch – and not just because he knew her name. He just had such a ‘Mitch’ feel to him. If you’d asked Rosie five minutes before what that meant she wouldn’t have been able to tell you. But now she could. She looked up at him, at Mitch, and she already felt like she knew him.
‘Hi,’ Rosie replied, taking her hand out of her pocket and holding it out to shake his, noticing how tall he was. And then immediately she worried that this wasn’t the accepted form of greeting for a flatmate interview. This was her first time except for student living. But Mitch grinned and scratched his ear and then grabbed her hand, shaking it firmly.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ he said, ‘I never leave enough time to get across town.’ Rosie said nothing because she was too busy looking at the slight dimple on his left cheek that his smile created.
‘You’re not late, don’t worry,’ she said, quickly realising she was staring, she looked at her watch as a means to look away, but Mitch caught her doing it and grimaced, obviously misinterpreting her look.
‘I am, and I’m sorry. My mum would kill me. She’d tell me it’s terrible manners to suggest a meeting place and time and then not be there at least five minutes early. I should have suggested somewhere near the flat, but this place is close to the lab and easy to find if you don’t know the area.’ If Rosie hadn’t already fallen for his smile and the dimple-crease thing he had going on, then she was definitely falling for his attention to manners and promptness. Maybe less keen on his devotion to his mum, but she would see how that one played out.
Mitch waved his hand at the barman and to Rosie’s astonishment the barman made his way over. She gaped. What magic power was this and how could she learn it? She made a note to ask him about this if she passed the flatmate interview.
‘What can I get you?’ Mitch smiled down at her. ‘Do you drink beer?’ Rosie nodded slightly non-committally – it wasn’t her drink of choice but she wasn’t convinced ordering a glass of wine in this pub would result in a positive experience.
‘London Pride is good if you like bitter, but actually the house lager is OK despite being one of the cheapest pints in town.’
‘Is that why you chose this place?’ Rosie joked and immediately wished she hadn’t when she saw the crestfallen look on his face. ‘Sorry,’ she said swiftly, ‘now I’m being rude.’
‘It’s fine,’ Mitch said, recovering quickly. ‘Although I confess I had hoped you would think I was a really generous flatmate when I offered to buy you a drink. But now I’ve told you how cheap this place is, you’re just going to think I’m a cheapskate.’ He grinned sheepishly. ‘I’m such an idiot. Always saying the wrong thing.’
Rosie hoped he would carry on saying the wrong thing if it made him seem this sweet and endearing – and if it meant he would talk about them being flatmates again. Yes, he was cute and he did seem really sweet, but she was also really really hoping he’d offer her his spare room because she was fast out of other options.
Mitch nodded in the direction of the barman who was starting to look like he might pour a pint of the cheap beer over the pair of them unless they ordered something smartish.
‘I’ll have a pint of the lager then,’ Rosie said quickly, not wanting to risk losing the attention of the barman or getting a beer tipped on her, ‘if you recommend it.’
Mitch put his hand on her arm, which sent a jolt of electricity up it – and not the good kind. ‘Sorry!’ he yelped, snatching his hand back. ‘Cheap carpets in these places, always give me an electric shock.’ And then seeing the stormy look on the barman’s face, he said quickly, ‘Two pints of lager please,’ pointing at the beer pump which Rosie noticed was lacking any kind of sign. Mitch pulled a face at Rosie as soon as the barman’s back was turned which made her want to laugh out loud.
Mitch picked up the two pints and ushered Rosie to a table in the far corner of the pub, where they could escape the evil glances of the barman.
‘Whoops,’ he said as he put one of the drinks carefully down in front of her and then pulled a beermat from the far side of the table to put under his. ‘I’m now worried I might not be able to come back in here. I’ve called both the beer and the carpet cheap and I’m fairly sure he’s not going to forgive me. Which is annoying because this is a good pub to have up your sleeve if you’re ever in Covent Garden and everywhere else is packed full of tourists.’
Rosie looked dubiously down at the ‘cheap’ carpet and back at her rucksack.
‘Here, let me take it,’ said Mitch, seeing the look of concern on her face. ‘I know, I definitely wouldn’t risk putting it on the floor either,’ he continued and then looked quickly over his shoulder to check that the already offended barman was out of earshot. He leaned over and lifted the rucksack out of Rosie’s arms and then put it down on a chair next to the table.
‘Wow,’ he exclaimed, ‘have you got everything you own in here?’ Rosie felt her face begin to go red.
She grimaced. ‘Not everything. But everything I need for a while,’ she conceded, looking down at the table to avoid looking at him. She picked up her pint of beer and took a big swig. Although she wasn’t an expert, Mitch was right, this wasn’t a bad pint.
She glanced up to see that Mitch was looking at her curiously. ‘When did you say you were supposed to start work?’
Rosie suspected that this was the moment Mitch was going to think she was totally bonkers, speedily finish his pint and hastily make an excuse to leave, before he even had to tell her that his spare room was taken.
‘Uh Tomorrow,’ she admitted and slowly raised her eyes to look across the table at him. To her surprise his face broke into a grin.
‘That’s hilarious,’ he said.
‘It is?’ Rosie asked in confusion.
‘Yeah, I mean, what was your plan?’
Rosie shook her head, not understanding him.
‘If I hadn’t offered you the room? What were you going to do?’ he asked, not unkindly.
‘Actually, I hoped you’d inevitably fall for my wit and charm so no risk there,’ she joked shyly. ‘But I guess if that had failed, I’d have gone back to my brother’s flat and begged to stay on his and his girlfriend’s sofa for a few more days till I found something else.’ Mitch laughed loudly at her reply and his cheek dimpled once more.
‘But Jasmine – that’s my brother’s girlfriend – doesn’t really approve of people staying on their sofa. She says sofas are for sitting on, not for sleeping on. I’ve been living at my mum’s this summer, but it’s too far to commute in each day so I…’ Rosie paused, she realised she was rambling.
‘Wait, hold on a minute,’ she continued. ‘You said what would I do if you hadn’t offered me your room? Does that mean…’ she said a little more tentatively. ‘Does that mean you are offering me your spare room?’
Mitch shrugged his shoulders. ‘Sure, I mean that’s if you still want it after I’ve brought you to the grottiest pub in town.’ Rosie’s cheeks flushed again, this time with excitement and she looked around the pub, taking in the sticky carpet, the yellow flocked wallpaper and the two old boys propping up the bar. She grinned across the table at Mitch. ‘It’s not the worst place I’ve ever been in but, wow, I mean are you sure about the room? You don’t know me, we’ve only just met.’
Mitch nodded sagely in agreement. ‘True, but you don’t know me either and you seem OK with sharing a flat with me so I guess either we’re both insane or excellent judges of character. And anyway,’ he continued, ‘we’re going to be working in the same lab. Rachel says you’re a genius and I worry she’d fire me if she heard I hadn’t offered you my spare room.’
Rosie didn’t know whether to be more excited by the offer of a spare room or the praise from Professor Rachel Leas, the head of department at the university and the person who would be overseeing Rosie’s PhD. Rachel was one of the most eminent virologists in the country, so to be called a genius by her was both a source of pride and of terror. If Rosie wasn’t already worried about living up to expectations she was now.
‘You’ve met her, right?’ asked Mitch. ‘Rachel?’
‘Yes of course!’ exclaimed Rosie. ‘But only at my interview. What’s she like to work for?’ she asked, nervously twisting her fingers together.
‘Brilliant but terrifying, which reminds me.’ Mitch looked at his watch. ‘I need to be in the lab later today.’ He looked thoughtful for a moment and pushed his hair out of his eyes. Rosie had noticed that he seemed to do this quite often and she rather liked this tic of his. She tried not to stare as he did it. She was already borderline obsessed with his dimple and she didn’t need something else to stare at. ‘I was thinking we could take your stuff back to the flat now,’ he said, ‘but then I really need to go check on this experiment or Rachel might have me killed.’
‘You mean, go to the flat today?’ Rosie asked in surprise.
‘Yeah.’ Mitch paused. ‘I mean unless you wanted to annoy your brother’s girlfriend a bit more?’
Rosie thought for a moment; she was in London, a city where she knew no one except her brother Chris and his girlfriend Jasmine. Both of whom she loved but was fully aware she was overstaying her welcome with. And now she knew Mitch, who had brought her to (allegedly) the worst pub in London and who she’d met not ten minutes ago. But he seemed funny and kind and genuine. And he worked in the same lab as her, so the chances that he was a mass murderer were negligible. She took her chances.
‘I think I’ve annoyed them both enough.’ She bit her lip and looked Mitch straight in the eye. ‘How about I come to the lab with you and then we can both go back to the flat later?’
Mitch’s face lit up. ‘Brilliant! Great idea.’ He picked his beer up and raised it to Rosie. She picked hers up too.
‘To new flatmates?’ she asked.
‘To new friends,’ he smiled. They both took a drink. ‘Can I ask what your original plan was?’ Mitch asked, straightening up the beer mat and putting his beer back down.
‘My original plan?’ Rosie asked.
‘Yeah, I’m guessing you had an original plan which didn’t involve sleeping on your brother’s sofa or moving in with a man you’d never met before?’
Rosie looked down at the table, suddenly fascinated by the aged beer marks indelibly printed on the dark wood polish. She tried to ignore the pricking sensation behind her eyes. Mitch seemed lovely, perhaps dangerously lovely for a new flatmate. Park that thought for another time. But that didn’t mean she wanted to cry in front of him, at least not the first time they met. No one wanted to offer up their spare room to a heartbroken, crying mess.
‘Was it a guy?’ he probed. ‘Actually, you don’t have to tell me, that’s incredibly rude of me to ask.’ He waved his hands as if dismissing the question from the room.
‘Not really,’ Rosie shrugged her shoulders. ‘You’ve just offered me your spare room, I think you’re allowed to ask why I don’t have another choice.’ She took a deep breath and willed her eyes not to leak. ‘I was supposed to be moving in with my boyfriend, ex-boyfriend now. But then he moved to America instead, so I’m out of options. Apart from my brother’s sofa.’
‘Wow,’ Mitch exclaimed. ‘Instead of moving in with you, he moved to America? What does he know that I don’t?! I’m joking!’ he said quickly, scared of putting his foot in it again, but Rosie forgave him by smiling back at his joke.
‘Yeah, it was a pretty drastic get out of jail card to play,’ she agreed.
Mitch reached across the table and grabbed her hand. ‘Seriously though, whatever happened, I think he’s an idiot.’
Rosie looked up from his hand in surprise. ‘I’m going to say this again: you don’t know me!’
‘Professor Rachel thinks you’re a genius, you’ve forgiven me for taking you to the Worst Pub in London (trademarked)—’ he saluted in the general direction of the barman ‘—and you just seem like a really nice, funny person. So yeah,’ he shrugged, ‘I think he’s an idiot.’
‘Thanks,’ Rosie said, feeling a sense of relief and wellbeing course through her for the first time in days. ‘And thanks for offering me your room. I know it looks like I’m only interested because everything else went wrong.’ Rosie flapped her hand in the air between them indicating broken hearts, shattered dreams and homelessness. ‘And that I don’t have other options.’ Realising she could be dangerously close to talking Mitch out of his kind offer she quickly shut up.
Mitch sat back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head. ‘No problem,’ he said as Rosie tried hard not to notice the inch or so of flat stomach he had inadvertently showed her. ‘I think it’ll be fun, don’t you?’ Rosie nodded, worried that if she spoke it would come out as a squeal.
‘I’m very happy to be your Plan B.’ He grinned as he said it. Rosie started to protest but he continued, ‘Or your fallback, whatever you want to call me. And I can’t wait to show you around London, but we should get going if we don’t want to risk the wrath of Rachel.’
They tussled over Rosie’s rucksack for a few seconds before Rosie gave up and grudgingly allowed Mitch to carry it for her. He turned and waved at the barman as they made their way to the steps. The barman nodded grumpily and went back to whatever it was he was doing before. Rachel turned and looked back at the pub and smiled; grotty though it was, she was excited to start her London life.
