BETTSY
Ellie
Where shall I meet you?
By the big clock. I’ll be the one with the red carnation.
Ellie
Are you being serious?
Bettsy
Yeah, the clock is huge. You can’t miss it.
Ellie
I know where the clock is, dumbass :P I’m just trying to work out if you really are standing there with a flower pinned to your chest.
Bettsy
Too much?
Ellie
Maybe.
Train is pulling in now.
And just like that, I’m nervous as hell. My stomach is in a tight knot as I step back from the main concourse, settling myself into the entrance of a coffee shop.
I’ve got a decent view of the exit barriers, so I should see her when she comes. All she needs to do is head to the big clock—that’s all she needs to do.
18:31
There’s an announcement over the loudspeaker broadcasting the arrival of Ellie’s train, and my pulse picks up speed. What if this isn’t a good idea? What if?—
18:32
It’s like I’m a teenager again. Loitering in the corridor of the science block, waiting for her to pass on her way to class—trying my hardest to pretend I’m not stealing a glance.
I explicitly remember thinking she was too good for me.
And as I watch the barriers, waiting … I’m wondering the same thing.
Am I enough? Can I make things up to her?
Because I don’t think I’ll get another chance. This is it.
18:33
My heart is beating so fast, it feels like it stops.
I see her.
She’s coming.
I notice her smile first, highlighted by a flash of deep red lipstick. Next, I pick up on her hair; vintage curls pinned to the side in a 40s style look that she pulls off with ease.
Damn, she’s beautiful.
I fight the temptation to run forward and scoop her into my arms as she passes through the barrier—purely because that’s not part of my plan. I need to wait. I need for her to be standing near the clock.
But she doesn’t. She’s looking around and then she roots around in her handbag. Retrieving her phone, she taps the screen before pressing it to her ear.
Shit .
I tug my phone out of my pocket and watch it ring for a moment before answering.
“Have you stood me up?” she asks, her voice cracking in a way that pulls at my heart.
She’s looking around. Turning on the spot, studying the surrounding traffic of people.
“No, no—please, can you just stand by the big clock?”
“But—what’s going on, Mike?” she says.
“Please, Kitch. Can you trust me with this one?” I ask.
She sighs down the line, then I watch her move towards the clock.
“I’m here.”
“I—you look incredible, by the way,” I say.
I hang up before slipping my phone into my pocket, trying to steady my breathing, trying to settle my racing heart.
I watch her for a moment longer, wondering if this is a completely ridiculous idea.
She’s looking around again; peering around the concourse and I figure that I’ve literally got nothing to lose. She agreed to meet me here today. This is it. This is my chance to start fresh.
I relax my shoulders, then step out of the coffee place, striding towards the big clock, trying to act busy—unfazed by the world around me.
Then I pull out my prop. A newspaper I’ve had tucked into my jacket pocket.
I unfold it and pretend to read, flicking my eyes towards Ellie, standing with her back to me, to check I’m on course.
One step closer. Another step closer. And bump . Gentle enough to get her attention.
She straightens up and turns to face me. “Sorry?—”
“Oh, my. I’m so sorry. I—” We lock eyes, and her brows knit together. “—God. I’m sorry,” I say again. “I—wow.”
Okay, she looked good from afar, but up close, she turns my brain to mush. I stare at her, trying to urge myself forward with the plan, but I’m gaping at her like a fish.
“Mike? What the hell are you doing?” she says .
“You’re beautiful,” I stutter. Then I shake my head, forcing myself into gear. “Uh—have we met before? Because I swear, I’d remember if we did.”
She rolls her eyes, but a grin creeps across her lips. Lips all … full and inviting.
“I—” She pauses. Then her expression relaxes, like she’s twigged on to what I’m trying to do. “I’m—I’m not sure,” she says. “But I like your flower.”
“I’m Michael,” I say, going down the formal route and holding out my hand.
“Eleanor,” she replies, taking my palm. “I think you should be more careful, Michael. Reading whilst walking is dangerous … apparently.” She eyes the newspaper.
“I am so sorry,” I say, keeping my eyes locked on hers. “Could I buy you a drink in way of an apology?”
“I’m not sure,” she says, looking around. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”
My stomach drops. “Right.”
She looks at me, cocks her head to the side.
“Yeah, he’s pretty special, actually. A tad impulsive, but gives excellent hugs …
and he’s tenacious. Inspiring. He’s given me the kick I needed to push myself.
He’s the reason I’m standing here with a fancy hairdo.
Wedding style practice. I’ve been to a workshop today because he gave me the motivation. ”
Well, fuck. My stomach feels light—like I’m about to take off.
I swallow, testing my voice. “Sounds like you may be into him,” I say shakily.
She nods. “I … I think I am, but see, he thinks we should start fresh, but I think we’ve got a good foundation—despite the hiccups.”
“So what could he do better, going forward? Apart from doing a little more thinking. I mean, he’s trying to do better. He’s trying to?—”
But I’m halted mid-sentence when she kisses me. A peck on the lips but my body sparks alight, and I feel alive.
She pulls away. “Let’s go for a drink, Mike.”