Jacob
From:
Olivia_Jackson@
Subject:
Might have found the new best dosa in India …
Jacob read Olivia’s message again. The pull of her words was so strong that he wanted to fall through the computer screen and transport himself right to where she was. Yet every time his fingers so much as twitched in response, he pulled away.
‘Urgh!’ He slammed his fists down on to the table, sending the keyboard into the air and startling the middle-aged
man next to him. The internet cafe he’d found in Udaipur wasn’t the most glamorous of establishments, but it served a purpose. It was dark, private and extremely cheap, which was lucky for Jacob, as for the past two weeks he’d spent all of his time simply staring at that one unanswered email.
Indecision was not a feeling Jacob was used to experiencing.
If he wanted to do something, he did it, and when he wasn’t sure, he handed the question over to the universe.
But now … now things felt different. Now there was a new voice inside of him.
A voice of desire, of yearning, of wanting to be closer to someone, that the rest of him wanted to pull away from.
There was a full-scale battle raging in his head and it was adding a whole new palette of colours to his black-and-white way of thinking.
Nothing was simple any more. Nothing felt clear cut.
And everything was starting to feel a little bit out of control.
He let his head fall into his hands, his temples burning white hot under the mounting pressure gathering across the surface of his skull.
Last night his migraine had got so bad that he’d been sick from the pain, his body buckling under the weight of his brain, the sheer volume of sensation overloading his system to the point of breaking.
He sneaked another glimpse at the screen, the bright light automatically sending a shooting pain through the back of his eyes. His stomach rolled with nausea and his body ran ice cold.
Just make a decision and stick to it …
Jacob took a long, slow inhale and, with his eyes half closed, raised his head and allowed his fingers to land on the keyboard. He couldn’t ignore Olivia for ever, and if sending an email would lighten even a tenth of the load in his head, he was willing to accept the consequences.
To:
Olivia_Jackson@
Re:
Might have found the new best dosa in India …
Surprise! It’s me! I’m alive!
Really? That’s how you’re going to kick things off?
He deleted the sentence and tried to start again.
Guess who’s back?
Delete.
Hey there, you.
Delete.
Hi.
He stared at the screen. Five minutes and only one word written.
I’m so sorry I’ve not replied sooner. I picked up a nasty bug and have been laid up in bed for a while. It wasn’t pretty, so I’ll save you the details.
That wasn’t a total lie; he had technically been sick, after all …
I don’t want to believe you’ve found a better-tasting dosa, but I trust you enough to take your word for it. I hope you got to Goa safely, and your career as a yogi is going fantastically. Say hi to the ocean for me.
Jacob x
He looked at the message. The measly output of fifteen minutes’ carefully considered and overly edited work.
He hated it. It was cold and formal, and quite frankly it said nothing, but without wasting another second, he clicked send, unable to stare at his pathetic words any longer.
Off it went, out into the ether – straight to Olivia, with her blue eyes and freckled skin.
A wave of guilt struck him, followed by a stronger wave of sickness.
His eyes were almost totally closed now, only the tiniest slit of light allowed through between the lids.
His head felt so heavy that it was almost too much to keep it upright.
He needed to get out of here, away from the sounds of other people typing, and the whirring of machines.
He needed the silence and solitude of his bedroom. He needed …
Mum.
The thought took him by such surprise that he snapped his eyes wide open, flooding his system with unwanted sensations.
His body screamed in protest as flashes of light swarmed across his field of vision.
He tried to stand but found that his right leg had gone so numb it might as well not have been there.
And as he fought to stay upright, with the swirling colours now totally blinding him, all he could think to say was her name. Over and over.
‘Mum. I want Mum
.’