Chapter 40
I dash to the bus stop, checking the bus-times app as I stride, but there isn’t one going my way for .
. . six minutes? What is this, the countryside?
Ugh! I’ve got places to be, and I cannot be waiting six minutes!
Instead of relying on the bus, I begin my speed walk down the main road, looking over my shoulder in case a mystery bus appears after all.
I walk and walk and walk, and after a while I forget to look for the bus and I’m just locked into this mission, walking at great speed towards Laurie’s.
I’m walking so fast that at some points both of my feet are off the ground at the same time, which I believe is what they call running, something I am most unfamiliar with.
God! I can’t believe I’m literally running after Laurie O’Donnell of all people!
So undignified! But for some reason, I just don’t care about dignity any more, or playing it cool, or holding back. I don’t have time for it!
The evening air is warm, and all the pubs are spilling over with people infused with the good summer vibes, but here I am, stomping wildly in the direction of Camden, getting a right sweat on.
God, I won’t even want Laurie to see me looking like this by the time I get there, will I?
But then I think about my mum and her inspirational quote about salt water. Sweat. Will it cure this?
Finally, I make it to his estate, and then to his building, and then to the winding concrete stairs that divide the terraces of front doors on their outdoor walkways.
By the time I get to the third floor, I’m properly out of breath, but I don’t have time to stop.
I dash towards where I remember his flat being, but then I’m suddenly gripped with indecision – which flat is it?
I know it’s one of the two on the end . .
. but which one? As I approach, it’s obvious which one it is.
My heart sinks. The curtains are open and everything but the furniture is gone from the living room.
The flat next door, by contrast, is a hive of activity – a children’s birthday party is in full swing and a weary-looking woman comes outside to vape.
All dignity gone, and not even feeling that bothered that I have a witness, I peer through the glass into Laurie’s flat, desperately searching for any sign of life, but there is none.
‘I think those boys moved out today,’ the woman says, hitting the vape and nodding in the direction of their flat, ‘if that’s who you’re looking for.’
‘Oh,’ I say, as lightly as I can, as if really it doesn’t matter at all, despite the fact that she just saw me with my nose pressed against the glass.
‘Your mates, were they? They were all right. Bit quiet,’ she shrugs, hitting the vape again.
I nod, feeling the lump in my throat get bigger, more insistent. ‘Thanks for letting me know,’ I manage to croak out as I turn back towards the stairs.
Today. They moved out today. Of course they did.
I don’t know how to explain it other than that it had to be now. If it’s not now, one of us will change our mind or lose our nerve or start seeing someone else and the whole process will begin again, and I can’t do it. I just want to be with him.
I drag myself to the hulking concrete spiral staircase and slowly begin my trudge down.
I got to Felix’s and he was kissing someone on the doorstep.
I get to Laurie’s and no one’s there at all.
Why can’t people just be where they’re meant to be, doing the things they’re meant to be doing?
Just my luck. I hope Morgan and Aleesha haven’t eaten my pepperoni pizza.
I suppose I have that to look forward to, don’t I?
Finally, I reach the bottom of the stairs.
Children are playing out on the estate, the sounds of shouting and laughter and music from the open door of a flat, dashing little footsteps and the dinging of bike bells in the air.
Just how a summer evening should be spent.
I pause for a moment to just listen, to be in the moment, rather than trying to be in the past or the future.
Then I head for the bus stop. I’ll wait six minutes this time, I’m not in a rush any more.
As I set off, another sound layers on top of the bike bells, the music from a nearby party, the giggles, and I’m struck with the certainty that someone is shouting my name.
Why would those children know my name? But it doesn’t sound like a child’s voice. It sounds like –
When I turn around, I am face to face with Laurie. Or rather, face to chest, because I have to look up at him.
‘Oh!’ I say stupidly.
‘I . . .’ He blinks at me. ‘I thought it was you. I mean, you are quite . . . distinctive.’
I just stare at him for a second, completely wrong-footed.
‘I thought you were gone,’ is all I can manage.
‘My flatmate forgot to leave his keys, so I said I’d drop them through the letterbox for him,’ Laurie says, his voice a little shaky. Thank God for forgetful flatmates. Thank you thank you thank you.
‘Laurie, I . . .’ I begin, and realise I don’t have a plan at all. Everything has happened so fast that I have no idea what I’m actually doing here. ‘I read your email.’
Laurie swallows. ‘I didn’t necessarily mean for you to –’
‘I read your email, and I don’t want you to have to get over me. I don’t want you to have to find a way to move on without me. I’m completely obsessed with you, and I want to be with you, and I don’t want to be with anyone else. So my advice to you would be . . . just love me.’
Laurie says nothing for a moment, just looks down at me with his big, brown, bewildered eyes.
‘Does that sound like good advice?’ I ask him.
Laurie’s answer is to wrap his arms around me and kiss me – properly, not tentatively, nervously, like it would have been if we’d actually kissed in my living room before Felix showed up. This is the real thing. It’s had the time and space to become the real thing.
‘There’s nothing I’d rather do,’ he says.
And that, dear friends, is how you end your second year at university.