Chapter 20
20
The world slows, reduces to a pinprick, and I feel the air leave my lungs.
‘Sorry, what did you just say your name was?’
‘Jay. Well, James, but everyone calls me Jay.’ He gives a bitter laugh. ‘At least, they do when they’re actually speaking to me.’
Jay.
His name is Jay.
‘Hello? Are you okay? You’ve gone really pale.’
I snap my eyes open. Jay – or James – is watching me with concern. ‘Sorry, I’m fine, just a bit tired.’ I shake my head. ‘God, look at me making a fuss when you’re the one with all the injuries.’ I laugh, but it sounds hysterical.
‘Well, are you going to leave me hanging here any longer or are you going to shake my hand?’
‘Oh yes, right. Sorry.’ Stop apologising. I clasp his fingers. They feel warm and dry. ‘Hello, Jay, I’m Miranda.’ When I let go, his hand drops to the bed, and I notice he’s still watching me, a frown creasing his forehead.
‘Lovely to meet you, Miranda.’ He pauses then, and squints at me as if something has just occurred to him. ‘I don’t mean to sound like I’m throwing you a terrible line here, but I feel as though we’ve met before. Have we? You look kind of… familiar.’
I swallow, my throat tight.
This is a lot to process.
Because if I’m right, and this is my Jay – the Jay from my dreams – then it also follows that this is the man I almost ran over last year in London. Would he have seen my face at the time, or even last night? I squeeze my eyes shut and try to remember the order of events that day. The lights turned amber, I tried to slow… almost ran him down, then at the last minute I swerved… then I hit the ground… and then – yes! Then I heard a deep Geordie voice – this deep Geordie voice? – saw a man with dark hair hovering over me and even though I couldn’t see him clearly, of course he would have been able to see me! Even though I was wearing a cycling helmet and was probably bleeding, there’s still a strong chance he might recognise me.
Oh shit.
I can’t let that happen. Although there seems a strange kind of symmetry in another accident bringing us together again, I can’t let him know it was me that caused an accident that day as well – because how could I explain being here again?
I shake my head and force a smile.
‘I don’t think so. I must just have one of those faces,’ I say, hoping he’ll accept it. After a few seconds’ pause, he seems to.
‘Maybe,’ he agrees.
A silence falls and I take a moment to study him from the corner of my eye. I’ve always wondered whether, if I ever did track Jay down, I’d know him instantly, despite not actually being able to picture his face. I hoped I would. Assumed I would.
Now here this man is and he’s handsome, and he seems nice. But his face is that of a stranger.
I think about the things I ‘know’ about him – at least the ones that are grounded in reality.
He’s called Jay.
He’s from Newcastle.
He has dark hair.
The dream I had about the hospital swims into my mind too, and I feel a tingle of excitement.
‘Do you have a dog?’ I blurt, without preamble. I have a sudden urge to know, as though it will give me the final confirmation I need. Understandably, he gives me a strange look.
‘A dog?’
‘Yes. I mean, I love dogs, and I just wondered whether… you know.’ My heart thumps as he studies me, a half-smile on his face.
‘I do actually, although it’s quite a weird question to ask out of the blue.’
‘Ha, yes, sorry.’ He has a dog!
‘Do you?’
‘Do I what?’
‘Have a dog too?’ He stares at me as though I’m not quite all there.
‘Oh, right! Course!’ I give a strange laugh and wish the ground would swallow me up. I must seem insane. ‘No, I don’t, but only because I live in a flat and I’m not allowed one. I like walking other people’s dogs though.’
‘Right. Well, mine’s called Alan and he’s lovely but insane.’
‘Alan?’ I say. ‘Cute name.’ It’s not Colin but it’s not a million miles away.
He dips his head. ‘Yeah, my daughter chose it, after Alan Shearer. I guess it suits him well enough now.’
He has a daughter?
I don’t have time to even begin to process this before he gasps. ‘Oh my God, Alan! He’s at home alone, he won’t have been fed. Where’s my stuff?’ He looks round frantically. I spot his phone beside his watch and a dusty glass of water on his bedside table and hand it to him. There’s a huge crack across the screen but it still seems to be working and he jabs at it and holds it to his ear. After a few moments he ends the call.
‘Bugger.’ He looks up at me. ‘I was trying to ring my neighbour, get her to pop in and check on him but she’s not in. He’ll be going frantic.’
‘I could check on him if you like.’ The words come from nowhere and surprise even me.
I’m about to take them back – what am I even thinking ? – when he says: ‘Oh God, would you really? It’s not far from here.’
‘What? But you don’t know me.’
‘I know, but I honestly don’t know what else to do. My neighbour’s the only other person with a key to my house and she must have left for work already, and I wasn’t joking when I said my kids weren’t speaking to me.’
‘I—’ I start.
‘Please?’ he says. ‘I know it’s a big ask but you seem quite normal and I’m sure you’re not a burglar. I’ll even pay for a taxi if you need one. You’d be saving my life.’
‘Okay. Although a taxi isn’t necessary.’ I decide it’s prudent not to mention my bike in case he realises who I actually am.
‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’ Jay looks round again, searching for something. ‘Have you seen my rucksack? Or my keys?’
There’s nothing obvious so I open the door underneath the bedside table. A small rucksack has been shoved in there. I pull it out and hand it to him, but it’s hard for him to open with one hand so I hold it while he unzips it. It feels strangely intimate to be standing so close to a man I barely know while he’s in a hospital bed and I’m conscious of trying not to let our skin touch at all.
‘At least I didn’t lose all my stuff in the crash,’ he says finally, picking a bunch of keys out of the bag and handing them to me. There’s a flash of something pink from inside the bag and it tugs at my memory, but then it’s gone again just as quickly.
The car keys are on a fob with pictures of a girl and a boy that I assume are his children, along with a couple of silver house keys. ‘This one here is for the front door, and this is the back. Now if you go in the front, just be careful you don’t let Alan out because he does like to try and be an escape artist. And he’ll probably bark but he’s soft as shite so don’t let that bother you.’ He continues to give me instructions on where to find his food, letting him out in the back garden for a wee, and anything else I might need to know, and I try to focus, but it’s hard to concentrate when there’s so much else going on in my mind.
‘Thank you so much for doing this for me, I can’t bear to think of Alan being scared or thinking he’s been abandoned.’
‘It’s fine, I really don’t mind,’ I say. ‘Do you need anything from home while I’m there?’
‘No I’m good thanks. You don’t need the trauma of rummaging around in my drawers as well.’ He smiles.
And then I’m walking out of the hospital, collecting my bike where it’s still, miraculously, in one piece, and wheeling it out to the main road. Jay’s house is in Gosforth, a little north of mine in Jesmond, and the journey seems to take forever – lack of food, water and sleep doesn’t make anyone feel their best – but I’m keen to get to Alan as quickly as possible.
The address Jay gave me is a large, three-storey town house with a small front yard and glossy black door. It’s not dissimilar to my house in London and I feel an unexpected pang for home. I double-check the address, wheel my bike to the front door and lean it against the wall beneath the window. I can already hear Alan barking so I slip the key into the lock as quickly as I can.
I’m almost sent flying as soon as I step inside as a small, furry animal barrels into me, and I bend down, making sure to close the door behind me first.
‘Hello, boy,’ I say, and Alan’s so grateful to see me, it doesn’t seem to matter that he’s never met me before. He licks my hands, my arms and my face, covering me with big, soppy kisses. He’s some sort of terrier, with big brown eyes, a fuzz of black hair and a couple of brown patches on his back.
I stand and walk towards the back of the house where Jay told me I’d find food, and Alan follows, almost tripping me up as he winds between my legs. I unlock the back door and he races out and has a wee in the middle of the lawn, then runs round in excited circles, thrilled with himself.
The food is in the cupboard under the sink as Jay said it would be, and I open a tin and tip the meat into a clean bowl. It smells vile but Alan doesn’t seem to think so, sticking his face in it and wolfing down great clumps of the stuff as though he hasn’t eaten for a week rather than since yesterday. I wonder whether I should take him for a walk. I mean, Jay didn’t ask me to, maybe he thought that was a step too far, but I’m sure Alan would like it.
He has a collar on and I can see his lead hanging on a hook by the back door. I could text Jay and check but he’s probably asleep. Deciding it can’t do any harm, I pluck the lead from the hook, and Alan goes mad.
‘Oh is that what you need, boy?’ I say, bending down and slipping the lead onto his collar. He starts his dizzying circling again and I try not to trip over him as we step into the garden. I lock the door and we head down the side alley to the front of the house and back out onto the street. I’m fairly certain we’re near the Town Moor where Matt and I were cycling yesterday, and sure enough a few minutes later the expanse of green opens up. As I stroll along, Alan trots along happily beside me, stopping to sniff something every couple of feet. No matter how hard I try to push thoughts of Matt and Gladys out of my mind, they keep intruding, making themselves known. What are they doing now? How is Matt feeling? I keep replaying the kiss, and how it had felt to have Matt’s lips on mine and it makes me feel warm inside.
No. Stop it. No good will come of thinking like this. I made it clear to Matt that I need to keep looking for Jay, and now it looks as though I might have found him. That’s what I need to focus on now.
So why do I feel like I’m cheating on him? Should I tell him about Jay? He has been helping me look for him these last few weeks, and I feel as though I owe him that much, at least. But I also want to keep it to myself for now, in case I’m mistaken. Or in case nothing comes of it.
I don’t want to hurt him either. And after yesterday and the way I abandoned him at the pub, I wouldn’t blame him if he never wanted to see me again. The look on his face as I walked away still haunts me.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and, as if I’ve conjured him just by thinking about him, it’s a message from Matt. I open it with trepidation, my fingers fumbling with the buttons.
Matt
Sorry I haven’t been in touch. I can’t stop thinking about last night. I’m sorry if I overstepped the mark but I really like you. Can we talk? Matt.
There’s no kiss but he’s being completely straight with me. I’ve always loved a man who wears his heart on his sleeve. I’m too old for messing about, which is why online dating has never suited me. But now Matt’s honesty is just making me feel worse about the way I’ve treated him.
Because I really like him too.
My phone battery is really low so I put it in my pocket and head back towards Jay’s, ignoring the stab of guilt at not replying. It must have taken him a lot to send that message. But I need time to think of a reply that will let him down gently.
Alan is tugging on the lead, but I don’t risk letting him run free in case he makes a break for it. Some meet-cute that would be, causing someone to crash his car and then losing his dog.
Back at Jay’s I plug my phone into a charger I spotted in the kitchen, fill Alan’s water bowl and scrape the rest of his food into his bowl. Unsure what else to do while I wait for my phone to spring back to life, I wander round the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards. I’m not sure what I’m looking for. Maybe some sort of clue as to the kind of person Jay is.
But the cupboards are immaculate, everything neatly lined up, nothing out of place.
I pause, overcome with a sudden urge to find out a bit more about Jay – or at least to look for some sort of confirmation that he is actually ‘my’ Jay – the man who I’ve fallen in love with during my sleeping hours.
I wander over to the fridge. There are no photos pinned to the front, no evidence at all of anyone even living here, which strikes me as odd. I turn back to look at the kitchen. The whole place is very neat and tidy, almost obsessively so. I pull open a couple of drawers but there’s nothing but kitchen stuff – four knives, forks and spoons lined up in regimental order, four matching dinner plates, four small plates and four bowls stacked in the cupboard below. The bin has a clean liner in it, the dishwasher is empty and there are no dirty plates or cups anywhere. There’s a splash of water on the tiles by Alan’s bowls but I assume that was done in Jay’s absence.
I leave Alan finishing the rest of his food and, with a quick check to make sure no hidden security cameras are watching me, I head towards the front of the house. The hallway is immaculate, the wooden floors shining, the paintwork without a scratch. I wonder how long Jay’s lived here. It certainly doesn’t look like the sort of place children have ever lived. The staircase faces the front door, and there’s a room either side of it. I hesitate for a moment. Should I really be doing this? It feels wrong to intrude on someone’s life this way.
But then again, this is the man who’s haunted my dreams for the last few months, and it would be good to know a little bit more about him. And he did give me – a complete stranger – his key.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I push open the right-hand door. It leads into a square living room, with a corner sofa, a coffee table just in front of it on a geometric-patterned rug, a TV mounted on the wall and a small bookcase in the corner. That’s it. There are a couple of photos on the mantelpiece above the fireplace so I walk over and peer at them. One is of Jay with two children and another is of an older couple who, I assume, are his parents. I wander over to the bookcase next. You can tell a lot about people by their taste in books.
But it’s a disappointing collection of non-fiction books including Jeremy Clarkson’s autobiography which I seriously hope was a present he hasn’t got the heart to get rid of, and a handful of battered-looking Lee Childs and Michael Crichton paperbacks. Well, at least he reads. I try not to think about the discussion I had with Matt about books. It’s not a make-or-break thing. Reading isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.
There doesn’t seem to be much more in this room that’s going to tell me anything about the person that lives here, so I go back out into the hallway and poke my head into the room on the other side of the staircase. It’s a small office with a pin-neat desk with a laptop on it, a folder beside it and a few shelves holding files. I wonder what he does for a living, but a scattering of books on a small bookshelf in the corner seem to reveal he’s a lawyer. I step inside and cast my eyes over the rest of the room. There’s a pinboard above the desk and I’m surprised to see it’s not as neat as the rest of the house, scraps of paper and leaflets pinned on haphazardly. The desk has a couple of stacks of paperwork, and a quick glance reveals it to all be work-related.
It’s clear I’m not going to find much here, and I’ve intruded enough, so I turn to leave – then something catches my eye and I stop.
Heart thumping, I reach over and pull a pin out of a piece of paper stuck to the pinboard and bring it closer. My legs feel like jelly and I sit on the chair in front of the desk and stare at it.
British Skydiving membership renewal application.
I let the paper drop to the desk and lean over to see if there’s anything else to confirm that it’s Jay who’s the skydiver. And then there it is, tucked behind a leaflet for a local curry house: a photo of a man who is undeniably Jay, with his parachute spread out beside him at the end of a jump.
He’s a skydiver.
I feel elated and dizzy at the same time, and grip the back of the chair. It seems surreal that lightning could strike twice – but in this case it really does appear to have done so. At least, my bad cycling seems to have done.
I’m about to leave when I notice something else. I reach over and pull out a couple of books propped up against the monitor. They’re diaries. This year’s – and last year’s. Someone else who prefers a paper diary, like me.
Should I look?
Of course I shouldn’t. I lean over to put them back, then hesitate. I could just…
No. It would be totally wrong.
But then again…
Shaking my head at my inability to make a decision, I open last year’s diary and search for 21 July, the day of my accident. I’m not sure what I’m hoping to find, but my heart hammers in anticipation anyway. And then, as the page falls open, my heart stops beating entirely. Because there, written in black and white, is the proof I need that the man lying in a hospital bed (thanks to me) is ‘my’ Jay.
9a.m., Islington Town Hall.
He was in London that day.
It’s him.
With shaking hands, I put the diaries back where I found them and head back to the kitchen. Alan sniffs around my feet and I bend down to stroke behind his ears. He immediately rolls over onto his back exposing his belly to me. I scratch it idly, trying to process what I’ve just discovered. But I can’t settle, so I stand, unplug my phone and type a message to Sophie.
Miranda
I’ve found Jay! Will ring you tonight and explain all. M x
I’m about to put my phone back in my pocket when it buzzes and I almost drop it in the sink. Expecting it to be a very quick reply from Sophie, I’m surprised to see it’s Jay. I click it open.
Jay
Just checking everything’s okay with Alan? Jay
Shit. Of course I should have let him know his dog’s fine, rather than poking around in his personal things. But then again, I would never have discovered for sure who he was if I hadn’t.
I snap a photo of Alan, who’s now stretched out on the kitchen floor and peers up at me as though he’s used to posing for the camera, then I send the picture back to Jay.
Miranda
Alan’s fine. He’s been fed and out for a quick walk – I hope you don’t mind. I’ll be back soon.
I hurry back to the office to check I haven’t left anything out of place, then go back to the kitchen to give Alan a cuddle.
‘Now be a good boy and Daddy will be back soon,’ I say. He wags his tail forlornly. I leave via the back door, hoping Alan’ll be okay alone until later. I consider popping back to my flat to freshen up but I’ve already been gone quite a long time, so I get back on my bike and pedal back to the RVI.
Jay’s sitting up when I arrive, with a half-eaten sandwich in front of him. He looks less pale than before, and the bandage from his head has been removed. It’s nice to see his face more clearly, and I can’t help noticing how handsome he is. I feel a fizz of excitement that he could be the man of my dreams, and yet he has absolutely no idea.
‘Alan says hello,’ I say, placing his keys back in his rucksack.
‘Thank you so much, I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’
Not get knocked off your bike? I think, but don’t say.
‘You’re welcome. He’s a lovely boy.’
‘He is, isn’t he?’ he says, and the look on his face when he talks about his dog reminds me of Matt when he talks about Gladys.
Oh God, Matt! I still haven’t replied to his message from earlier.
‘So, did you have a good old nose around my house while you were there?’ Jay says.
‘What?’ I feel my face burn and my heart stop. Does he know?
‘Sorry, I was only teasing. Although I would have done in your shoes.’
‘Ha,’ I say, weakly. ‘No, I just looked after Alan then came back.’ I’m dying to ask him about his skydiving and his trip to London last year, but there’s no way to bring it up without revealing I actually have been rummaging through his stuff after all.
‘Listen, thanks so much for everything but you really don’t have to hang around any longer,’ Jay says.
‘Oh, okay, great,’ I say. ‘Although I don’t mind staying a while if you like, stop you from getting bored?’
He smiles and it’s a lovely smile, white teeth and crinkly eyes that glow amber when they catch the light. I try to imagine staring into them at close quarters.
‘Honestly, you’ve done more than enough. Thank you.’
I nod, trying to hide my disappointment. I can’t think of a reason to stay now, but I also have to find a way to make sure I see him again. It’s taken me long enough to find him, I can’t let him slip away that easily.
‘Will you need someone to look after Alan again?’
‘I’m hoping to be out of here today. At least, I hope so.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘But actually, I guess they might want to keep me in a bit longer, given I hit my head.’ He looks round. ‘I guess, maybe… would it be a huge imposition for you to check on him again later, in case my neighbour has gone away after all?’
‘No!’ I say, far too enthusiastically. ‘I mean, of course I will. Totally happy to, I’m not busy later.’ I think about Matt and push him out of my mind for now.
‘Thank you. I mean, if I am by some miracle allowed home I’ll let you know, but I hate the idea of Alan being by himself again all night, and I don’t…’ He stops, clearly deciding against whatever he was about to say. ‘Anyway.’ He reaches for his keys and hands them to me again. ‘I don’t have another spare one, so don’t disappear with them will you?’ He smiles at me again as I take them from his hand.
‘Of course not.’
‘Thank you, Miranda. I’ll ring you if they let me out of here earlier than expected, okay?’ My name sounds strange on his tongue, and I turn it over to see if it sounds familiar, and nod.
As I walk out of the hospital it hits me how completely exhausted and hungry I am. With the adrenaline from this morning having seeped away, cycling home is an ordeal I think is never going to end, and by the time I fall through my front door and climb the stairs I’m half-dead on my feet. I’d planned to eat and shower before a nap, but I’ve collapsed on my bed and am out for the count before my head even touches the pillow.
* * *
When I wake up the light feels different and I’m momentarily confused. But then the events of last night and this morning come rushing back and I sit bolt upright, my head spinning.
I kissed Matt!
And I found Jay!
I fall back onto the pillows with a groan. Oh God, what a mess.
It takes me a few minutes to drag myself out of bed, and by the time I’m showered and dressed in clean clothes, I’m absolutely ravenous. I make myself a sandwich and finally sit down at the table to eat and check my messages.
There’s one from Jay, saying thank you again and telling me he’ll be in touch to let me know when he’s out of hospital.
The next three are from Sophie, with increasing levels of annoyance at my lack of response.
But there is nothing from Matt, and I click open his last message and reread it.
Matt
I really like you.
We need to talk.
I drop the phone on the table and sigh. Why is life like this – you don’t find anyone you like for ages, then the man you’ve dreamed about for months comes along on the same day as another man kisses you?
I know I need to reply to Matt. The trouble is I really don’t know what to say. How do you explain to someone that you’ve started to have feelings for them and that you enjoyed kissing them and would like to do it again but – oh, you can’t because you’ve just almost killed the man you’ve been looking for and need to get to know him instead, in case he’s the soulmate you hope he is?
There’s no way to say any of that without sounding either insane or cruel.
Instead, I find Sophie’s number and call her back.
‘At last!’ she says by way of greeting.
‘Sorry, I’ve had a bit of a twenty-four hours.’
‘It sounds like it. Tell me everything.’
So I do – from pulling out in front of Jay, to following him to the hospital, all the way through to realising he’s probably my Jay, and the fact he has a dog called Alan and likes skydiving. ‘Jay, not Alan,’ I clarify, my attempt at a joke falling flat. I miss out the bit about kissing Matt for now, because I know she’ll tell Kirstie and I don’t want her to articulate what I already know.
‘I can’t believe you found him,’ she says, finally.
‘So you think it’s really him?’
‘Of course! Don’t you?’ she sounds surprised.
‘I don’t know.’ How can I explain that, even though I moved three hundred miles away from home to look for Jay, that I never truly believed I’d find him? That, thanks to Matt, I’m now doubting whether finding him is even what I want? ‘I guess it’s just taking some time for it to sink in.’
‘You don’t sound as excited as I thought you would. Is everything all right?’
‘Yes, it’s fine. Honestly. I’m just tired.’
‘Okay.’ She sounds like she doesn’t believe me but thankfully doesn’t say any more. ‘So, what are you going to do?’
I shrug, then remember that she can’t see me. ‘Well, I’ll feed Alan tonight and then see whether Jay’s coming out of hospital tomorrow. And then – I don’t know.’ I take another bite of my sandwich.
‘You have to have a plan!’ Sophie sighs, and I imagine her running her fingers through her mane of auburn hair in exasperation. ‘You’ve finally found Jay, now you need to do some more digging. Get to know him properly.’
My mouth is still full so I don’t reply immediately, and Sophie clearly takes this as a sign of resistance.
‘Come on, Miranda, this is it! You’ve done it – isn’t it everything you hoped for?’
I swallow my mouthful. ‘Yes, it is. I’m sorry, I just feel a bit overwhelmed.’
‘Fine. But you need to charm him, M. Make him fall head over heels in love with you, wonder how he ever lived his life without you. Wasn’t that how it felt in your dreams?’
I think back to those dreams, to the way I’ve felt for so many nights over the last year, ever since I hit my head. I think about how, during those dreams, it had truly felt as though I’d found the man I wanted to be with for the rest of my life. How we were meant to be together.
I think about Sophie’s tarot reading, and the reason I decided to come up to Newcastle in the first place. How I’d told my friends I needed to take matters into my own hands rather than just sitting around moping and hoping something would change.
How I’d hoped this would be the fresh start I needed.
‘You’re right,’ is all I say. ‘Thanks Soph.’
We say our goodbyes and hang up, and as I finish my sandwich, I go over everything that’s happened over the last twenty-four hours. The bike ride with Matt, the game of pool, the easy intimacy I felt when we were together. The kiss. Then running away from him, the car crash, and finding Jay. It’s all so much to take in and my brain feels like it’s about to short-circuit.
I’m startled by my phone ringing again, and this time it’s Kirstie. Sophie was clearly straight on the phone to her after we hung up, and as much as I love her, I’m not sure I’ve got the energy to speak to her right now. I send it to voicemail, and a few seconds later a text comes through.
Kirstie
I know you’re ignoring me, but I just need to tell you not to be an idiot. Forget about this random bloke in hospital. Matt’s the one for you. Ring me when you’re being less of a wimp. Love you. K x
I can’t help smiling. She can always see right through me. But I don’t need her to talk me out of anything, or confuse me any further, so I close the message without replying, put my phone on silent, and leave to go and walk Alan again.
It’s only as I’m clipping on my cycling helmet that I remember I still haven’t replied to Matt. I ignore the guilt, and push down on the pedals.