Chapter 18
18
Stanley the Labrador was lovely, and I’ve agreed with his owner that I’m going to walk him whenever I have a day off work, which at least gives me good motivation to get out looking for Jay again. Matt didn’t come with me in the end because he spent the day with his children, but we’ve arranged to meet for a bike ride this evening. The second-hand bike I bought is a bit squeaky and needs some TLC, but it’s not bad for the ￡100 I paid for it. I can’t wait to get back in the saddle.
I’ve tucked the bike under the stairs in the hallway and hope the neighbours don’t mind, and now I wheel it outside and check the chain, brakes and tyres while I wait for Matt to arrive. Even though it’s May it’s turned pretty cold and feels more like early spring than almost summer, and I shiver in the cool breeze. I’m just considering going back inside to get another layer when Matt appears round the corner and pulls up at the kerb. He stops, takes his helmet off and climbs off his bike.
‘Hey,’ he says.
‘Hey.’
It’s the first time I’ve seen him since our trip to the beach a few days before, and there’s a hum of something in the air between us. Not tension, exactly, but something that wasn’t there before.
‘So, where are we heading?’ I say. ‘Hopefully not too far, I haven’t cycled for a while.’
‘I thought that, and I thought you might still be getting used to your bike so we’re just going to go round the Town Moor. If that’s okay?’
‘That sounds great.’ I clip my helmet on and climb onto the saddle. ‘The bike seems fine but I haven’t had time to take it for a test run yet so probably best not to venture too far.’
‘Good.’ He climbs back on his bike too and turns to face me. ‘Just follow me and we’ll be there in five minutes.’
We set off. The traffic isn’t too heavy this afternoon, and it’s easy to keep up with Matt as we wind through the streets. The Town Moor is where I came the first day I was here, but I haven’t had time to come back since. When we get through the gates Matt points in the opposite direction from town, out across a surprisingly large stretch of grass laced with tarmacked paths. The grey sky has an ominous feel to it, and I’m glad I’m not here on my own.
‘We’ll go that way first and loop round the south of Gosforth to start with, okay?’
I nod, and we set off. It’s fairly flat and I’m enjoying being back on my bike again – although this is much easier than navigating the treacherous streets of north London. Less danger of knocking someone over as well.
After about half an hour Matt stops, and I pull up behind him.
‘How’re you getting on?’ He nods down at my bike.
‘It seems fine.’
‘Shall we just do a bit more then go and get a drink somewhere?’
‘That sounds like a plan.’
We set off again, and I realise we’re doing a few loops of the park, taking slightly different paths each time we go round. It’s a nice, easy route, and it’s quiet in here. Perhaps the grey blanket of cloud is putting everyone off. Sure enough, it soon starts to drizzle, then the drizzle turns to a steady rain. I wipe my eyes as water drips from my helmet down my back.
Matt swerves off the main path and I follow, back out onto the streets. I think we’re somewhere near our houses but I can’t be sure, and a few minutes later he glides to a halt outside a pub. There’s a large tree outside and we head for that.
‘God, this weather,’ Matt says, shaking himself down from the safety of the leaf-covering.
My clothes are stuck to me, and I shiver as I pull my helmet off.
‘Do you want to just head home?’ he says.
I shake my head. ‘No, it’s fine. A drink sounds better. Oh, unless you need to get going?’
‘No, I’m all yours.’ He reddens and we both look away.
We lock our bikes together, hoping that will be enough to deter anyone who tries to steal them, and head inside. It’s a lovely traditional pub and, most importantly, it’s warm and dry. It should be a day for beer gardens and sunshine, but warm and dry are all I need after that soaking.
We head to the bar and order drinks. Matt insists on paying, and we take our bottle of wine and find a table tucked in the corner. It’s fairly quiet in here, just a couple of people playing a sedate game of pool and a few couples dotted around various tables – a typical Thursday afternoon.
‘So, how come you didn’t have to work today?’ I say.
‘I worked this morning and it’s pretty flexible, luckily. If there’s nothing to do, they don’t expect you to just sit around twiddling your thumbs. But then there are longer days when needed, so it all works out in the end.’
‘Sounds ideal.’
He takes a sip of wine and nods. ‘It is. And what about you? Aren’t you working this week?’
‘I only had Monday and Tuesday this week. But I’m working a couple of days next week too and there are aways last minute calls when teachers are off sick.’
‘And how is it?’
I shrug. ‘It’s fine. It’s tough because the kids don’t know you and you don’t know them, and some of them want to show you who’s boss. But I’ve been doing this job long enough not to be intimidated and I usually win in the end.’ I grin. ‘Not that it’s a competition of course.’
‘Course not.’ He grins back.
We sit in silence sipping our drinks and I wonder whether to mention the moment in the lighthouse. But then Matt says?—
‘Oh by the way, Debs said they finally had a couple of responses from your appearance on the show.’
It takes a couple of seconds for his words to filter into my brain, and I stare at him. ‘Oh, wow! Really?’
‘Yeah. She said to ask whether you wanted to know more. She was worried they might just be crackpots or something.’
‘Oh, right.’ I know I should feel excited, but Matt’s words have made me feel as though there’s a stone sitting in my belly.
‘You don’t seem very pleased.’
I look at him, try to read his expression, but it’s impossible. I wonder whether he plays poker. If not, he should. ‘No, sorry. It’s great news. Thank you. I mean, I doubt they’re anything but you never know, right? This could be the breakthrough I’ve been waiting for.’
‘Exactly.’ Matt sips his wine. ‘Debs also said she’s keen to speak to you for a follow-up if it does work out. You know, if you do find your guy.’ He doesn’t meet my eye.
‘Right, sure. Well, thank you.’
I pick at the corner of the menu, unsure what else to say. Matt seems to be searching for something in the bottom of his wine glass. A cheer from the pool table makes us both look round. A game has come to an end and they’re putting the cues back in the rack.
‘Want a game?’ I say.
‘Now?’
I flash him a smile. ‘Why not?’ It’s better than sitting here feeling awkward, I want to say, but don’t.
‘You any good? Because I have to warn you, I had a mis-spent youth playing snooker for hours at a time. I’m wouldn’t want to humiliate you.’
I stand, hands on my hips. ‘Is that a challenge, Matthew?’
He stands too. ‘I believe it is, Miranda.’
‘You’re on.’
Matt picks up the wine bottle and we hurry over to the table before anyone else takes it.
‘Right, heads or tails?’ Matt’s holding a coin in his hand.
‘Heads.’
He flicks it into the air and smacks it on the back of his palm. He watches me with a lopsided grin on his face as he slowly peels his hand away.
‘Heads it is. Do you want to start or shall I?’
‘I will.’
I pick up the smaller cue, chalk the end and wait while Matt arranges the balls in the triangle at the other end. When he’s done, he straightens, and I bend and smack the white ball, scattering the reds and yellows across the table. We both watch as a red ball rolls slowly towards the corner, hovers, then drops into the pocket.
‘I guess I’m reds then?’ I say, giving him a cheeky grin.
‘I guess so.’
I pot the next one, and the next as Matt watches intently, his glass of wine going down quickly. I miss the next one, and let him on, and he’s right, he is good. Just as I think I’m not going to get back on the table at all, his yellow misses the centre pocket and ricochets in the wrong direction.
‘Fuck it,’ he says under his breath, and I smother a smile as he looks at me.
‘Ah, sorry about that.’ I pot the next two reds and peer up at him from my position at the table. I’m having fun, and I can’t pretend I’m not enjoying impressing Matt. ‘Oh by the way, I forgot to mention, I’m pretty good too.’
I clear the table of reds, and then there’s just the black left, alongside two yellows, both of which are blocking a clear way for me to pocket the black. I pretend to think about it for a while, although I can see exactly how I’m going to take my next shot – and I’m pretty confident I’ll get it in. Matt is staring at the black and I can tell he’s doing the same.
I bend, position myself, and lower my chin to the cue and line up. Then I take the shot and watch as the black bounces off the edge just where I’d planned and rolls smoothly towards the corner pocket. It drops.
I straighten and smile at Matt.
‘And that, I believe, is a wrap,’ I say.
He crosses his arms and shakes his head. ‘Well, I never.’
‘What, didn’t expect to get beaten by a girl?’
‘Nope, I never expect to get beaten by anyone. I thought I was invincible to be honest. I can’t believe you’ve just obliterated me.’
‘It was hardly an obliteration,’ I say, graciously. ‘It was pretty evenly matched.’
‘Well, even so.’ He drains his glass and goes to pour another, but the bottle is empty. ‘Another one?’
‘Tell you what, I’ll go to the bar, you line up for a rematch.’
As I head to the bar I’m fairly certain Matt’s watching me and I feel a shiver of something – excitement? Attraction? My clothes have dried out now and the wine has given me a low buzz of warmth which I’m enjoying. But I know I need to be careful. Flirting with Matt would be unfair on both of us.
Wine bought, I return to the pool table. Matt wins the next game, and the relief on his face makes me laugh. As we line up the balls for a deciding game, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out to see Kirstie is Facetiming me.
I’m about to reject the call when Matt says, ‘Is that your best friend?’
‘One of them.’
‘Please answer it, I want to say hello.’
His eyes glimmer and I laugh. ‘Are you drunk?’
‘Maybe a little. Go on, quick, before she hangs up.’
I move my thumb from the red button to the green and press it, and after a couple of seconds Kirstie pops up on the screen. She’s outside somewhere and I wave, although I can’t hear her yet and she has her face close to the screen.
‘Hello!’ I say, and in the corner I can see my own face with Matt’s right beside me. I know she’s going to have something to say about this and I hold my breath as she finally connects the sound.
‘Heyyyy!’ she says. Her voice is loud but there’s hardly anyone else in here now so I don’t think we’re disturbing anyone. ‘Where are you?’
‘We’re in the pub. I’m whipping Matt’s arse at pool.’
‘Oh no, poor bloke.’ She appraises him. ‘I assume you’re Matt then?’ she says, and my face heats up.
‘Oh yes, sorry. Kirstie, this is Matt. Matt, this is my best friend Kirstie.’
She raises her eyebrows and says ‘Hello, Matt. Lovely to meet you. Miranda has told me lots about you.’
‘Has she?’
Have I?
‘She told me you’ve been looking after her, showing her the sights.’
‘Ah, yes, I have.’
‘And helping me look for Jay,’ I add.
‘Yes, course, that too,’ Matt says, and Kirstie shoots me daggers. She asks us what we’ve been up to and we tell her about our bike ride and the fact we had to give up and come here when the rain started. ‘You must be a soft touch, Matt, I’d never let her give up because of a bit of rain.’
I turn to Matt. ‘Kirstie’s a bit of a slave driver and conveniently forgets I’m not one of her clients when we exercise together.’
‘Ah you love it, stop pretending you don’t,’ she says, and I dip my head in acknowledgement.
‘It was lovely to meet you, but I just need to nip to the gents,’ Matt says. ‘I’ll leave you to have a catch up without me.’
He disappears across the pub, and before he’s even properly out of earshot, Kirstie says, ‘Bloody hell, Mirand, what the hell are you doing ?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh come on! You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed how hot Matt is?’
‘I—’
‘And he’s clearly totally smitten with you, and there you are, talking about looking for some fantasy man that probably doesn’t even exist.’
‘But…’ I hesitate. I can’t tell her I hadn’t noticed he’s hot, because of course I have. But it’s not the point, not at all. ‘Listen, I know you don’t approve, but Sophie believes me, that the dreams about Jay were more than just dreams. I know he’s real, and I still believe I can find him. It’s just going to take some time. And in the meantime?—’
‘And in the meantime you appear to be ignoring the extremely attractive man right in front of your eyes.’ She shakes her head and sighs. ‘I swear, you’re completely insane sometimes. You and Sophie.’
I’m about to answer her, to tell her she’s wrong about Matt, that we’re just friends, when I spot him across the room.
‘Right, stop now, he’s coming back,’ I hiss. ‘Do not embarrass me, promise?’
‘Guides’ honour,’ she says, holding three fingers to her forehead. ‘But this conversation isn’t over by a long shot.’
Moments later Matt’s back and getting his cue ready for the next game. He smiles at me, and I smile back.
‘Anyway, I’ll let you get back to whipping Matt’s ass at pool,’ she says. ‘Let me say goodbye to him as well.’
I dutifully flip the screen round and Kirstie waves at Matt. ‘Lovely to meet you, and hopefully we’ll meet in person soon.’
‘Lovely to meet you too,’ he says.
‘And keep looking after my girl, won’t you?’
‘Always,’ he says, then Kirstie ends the call.
‘Sorry about her, she’s a bit much sometimes,’ I say.
‘It’s fine, she’s lovely.’
‘Well, anyway. Shall we get back to you letting me win this game?’
‘You’re on.’
I’m about to slip my phone back in my pocket when it buzzes again. I glance down and there’s a message from Kirstie:
Kirstie
Did you hear that? He said ALWAYS! Oh God he LURVES you! K x!
I ignore her, slip the phone back in my pocket, and turn back to the game.
* * *
I won the third game and Matt pretended to sulk for about ten minutes. But by then we’d finished our second bottle of wine, and decided we should probably eat something because we still had to wobble our bikes home.
Now we’ve cleared our plates, sobered up a little and have decided to have one more drink for the road.
‘I’ve had a lovely afternoon,’ Matt says, the ice in his whisky clinking against the edge of the glass.
‘Me too.’ I watch as condensation drips down the outside of my gin and tonic onto the table. I run my fingers through my hair which feels like straw, and sigh.
‘What’s wrong?’ Matt says. He looks worried.
I shake my head. ‘I dunno. I just feel…’
‘A bit drunk?’
A slow smile creeps across my face. ‘Yes, a bit.’ I rub my hand across my face. ‘But also a bit sad.’
‘Why sad?’
I stare into my glass and sigh.
‘Talking to Kirstie just reminded me of everything I’ve left behind.’
‘Oh.’
‘I’m sorry. I really have loved today. And I’m so grateful for your friendship. It’s just, I’ve lived in London all my life, it’s where my friends are, where my kids grew up. Where I got married and divorced.’
‘It’s a lot.’
I look up at him and nod. ‘It is.’
He runs his finger round the rim of his glass. He looks thoughtful. ‘When Celeste left, I thought about moving somewhere else. Going to a new city, a new country, even, and starting again. I was even offered a job in Canada. I was seriously tempted. Of course my children are younger than yours, so back then, I couldn’t do it. But I understand why you wanted to shake things up a bit.’
‘But I’ve been divorced more than twelve years. Nick and I get on fine; there’s no bitterness or jealousy there. I’m genuinely pleased for him that he’s happy again. So what’s my excuse for leaving everything behind to chase a random man across the country? A mid-life crisis?’
Matt looks at me and I can’t read the expression on his face. ‘I don’t think you’re having a mid-life crisis. I think you just want to be happy.’
I nod but say nothing. The truth is, this search I’ve been on for Jay is beginning to feel increasingly like a wild goose chase, and I’ve been having second thoughts. The very fact that I haven’t been actively looking for him while I’ve been out and about with Matt tells me all I need to know about my dedication to the cause.
The dog walking, the skydiving, the TV appearance, the beach visit – none of it has led me any closer to finding him.
But it has led me closer to Matt.
Kirstie’s words echo through my head too: he’s LURVES you! The words are ridiculous, but is the sentiment right? Could Matt have feelings for me? Sure, we’ve had a couple of moments when I thought there might be something more between us, but most of the time I’ve felt nothing more than friendship for Matt, and I’ve been fairly certain he feels the same way. Or have I just been trying to convince myself that’s the case?
Could Kirstie be right? Am I wilfully ignoring something exciting happening right under my nose?
Matt’s leg is pressing against mine and it feels as though my thigh is on fire. I take a gulp of my gin and slam the glass back down on the table too hard. I’ve had too much to drink. I should probably go before I do something I might regret.
Except that, just as I go to tell Matt I’m going home, his face is right beside mine, so close I can feel his breath. His eyes are studying me and he isn’t making any move to widen the gap between us, so I stay there, heart thumping, waiting.
And then our lips are pressed together and I can’t tell you who made the first move but all I know is it feels incredible, the warmth of his mouth and the tingle that runs from my head to my toes as he moves his whole body closer to me. I don’t even care that we’re in a pub and people can see us. Right now I don’t care about anything apart from this spark between us, and the fact that this feels completely right.
He pulls away, and his fingers rest on my shoulders. My skin burns beneath his touch. ‘That was?—’
‘It was.’
Neither of us say anything more for a few moments. But slowly, the outside world comes back into focus and I realise, with a jolt, that this should never have happened. I pull further away and stand abruptly. Matt watches me with confusion as I wobble on shaking legs, and gather my things – my bag, my cycling helmet. My fingers fumble, and by the time I’ve got everything, Matt has stood up too.
‘Miranda? What’s wrong?’
‘I…’ I shake my head. ‘I’m sorry, Matt. This was a mistake.’
I can’t look at his face because I know I’ll see nothing but hurt there, and I can’t blame him. My head’s spinning and I’m overcome with the urge to get out of there, into the fresh air and work out what the hell I’m doing, how I’m feeling.
So without another word I turn and half run towards the exit. It’s still light outside, the grey dusk making everything feel dulled, and I unlock my bike and swing my leg over the saddle. Before I pull into the road I glance back to see if Matt has followed me, but he’s not there. Ignoring the ball of disappointment in my chest, I push off and wobble into the road.
As soon as I’m pedalling I realise I’m probably not fit to be cycling, but it’s too late now. I just need to get out of here, get home, and lick my wounds.
I’m still thinking about this when I indicate to turn right and a horn blares, and then there’s a screech of brakes behind me, and everything slows as a car skids across the road out of control. I watch, frozen, as it heads towards a bollard and comes to an abrupt stop. The crash of metal fills the air. I sit on my bike, frozen in horror as the world stands still, a terrible silence…
‘Someone call an ambulance!’ comes a shout from across the street, and everything rushes back in all at once.
Shit, of course. I fumble in my rucksack for my phone, and with shaking hands dial 999. By the time the ambulance arrives the driver of the car is still inside and I stare at the scene detachedly, as though I’m watching it on TV.
Eventually, the door opens and a man climbs out. He looks dazed and has blood all over his face. A paramedic wraps him in a silver sheet and takes him by the elbow and he hobbles towards the open doors of the ambulance. A small crowd has gathered now and I realise I’m still standing in the middle of the road. I have no idea whether anyone saw what happened and it occurs to me that if they did I could be in serious trouble. But nobody seems to be looking at me, or have even noticed me. My whole body thumps in time to my heartbeat and I can’t take my eyes off the man I could have killed. He’s almost at the ambulance now, half-hidden behind the paramedic, and I crane my neck to try and see him properly. I feel a responsibility to make sure he’s okay, to make sure my stupid actions haven’t caused someone some serious damage.
Then he looks round and catches my eye and I see him properly for the first time. His dark hair sticks up wildly, and a trickle of blood is dripping from his chin onto his white shirt, making him look as though he’s completely soaked in his own blood. I can’t move as his eyes search me. Does he know this was my fault? Does he blame me? Is he about to point the finger?
And then his gaze sweeps over me as if I’m not even there and he turns back to the ambulance and steps inside.