Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
Sam had agreed to meet me at a pub near where Jared lived, which was on the other side of London, so there was no time for me to go home and change.
‘I look like shit,’ I’d wailed to Molly. ‘I’ve got no make-up on, and my hair’s dirty.’
I was wearing the shabby denim shorts and vest top which had been the first things to tumble out of my wardrobe that morning, when I’d hastily got dressed after Ava’s arrival.
The top revealed that it had been several days since I’d last got around to shaving under my arms, but I prayed Sam wouldn’t notice that – or that if he did, he wouldn’t care.
There were far more important things I wanted him to not know about anyway.
In between Ava’s visit to me and my visit to Molly, I’d barely had a chance to process what had happened between Jamie and me. At the time, I had been shocked, guilty and confused. But now, especially in the light of what Ava had told me, I found that guilt was winning out.
What had happened wasn’t his fault. We’d both had too much to drink.
He was my friend. He’d misinterpreted a situation in which I’d been confiding in him about personal stuff.
I’d probably flirted with him, accidentally sent out signals that I was open to our relationship becoming more than friendship.
He’d tried it on and been knocked back.
When I saw him in the office next week, I’d tell him that he’d massively over-reached, that I didn’t feel that way about him and I never would, and we’d both apologise. In fact, we’d probably both start apologising straight away before I even needed to say anything.
It would have to pan out like that – there was simply no alternative.
And if I still felt jolted by what had happened, I’d just have to deal with that. Compared to what had happened to Ava, it was nothing – just an unwanted kiss, a misunderstanding.
‘Don’t be daft, Georgia,’ Molly said.
It took me a moment to realise that she wasn’t referring to my thoughts about Jamie.
I blinked. ‘Daft about what? I mean, I know I’m daft generally, but specifically…?’
‘You and Sam live together, you noodle,’ she lectured.
‘He’s seen you first thing in the morning thousands of times.
He’s seen you with spots and hay fever. He’s seen you trim the cuticles on your toenails.
Seeing you this one time without any make-up on isn’t going to put him off. He won’t even notice.’
‘Yes, but…’ I took a compact mirror out of my bag and surveyed my face dubiously. I looked like someone who’d been crying, had barely slept and was still fighting off the remains of a hangover.
I didn’t have any bits of pizza in my teeth, but that was the best that could be said for me.
‘Fine, I’ll give you some of my Jones Road Miracle Balm,’ Molly relented. ‘I slapped it on after Arthur was born before I let Ben take any photos. It’s great stuff. But then you need to get going because otherwise you’ll be late, and that really would be a bad look.’
So, half an hour later, I found myself emerging from a Tube station in an unfamiliar part of North West London. I was breathless and sweating, but thanks to Molly, I at least had a bit of a healthy glow.
I’ll be at the Purlock Arms in Willesden at five, Sam had texted.
It was five minutes to five now. I checked the map on my phone and hurried down the unfamiliar street, thinking that, by now, it wouldn’t be unfamiliar to Sam.
Had he ever got the train in the wrong direction and realised just in time that he was meant to be going home to Jared’s place and not to our flat, I wondered.
Did he ever wake up in Jared’s flatmate’s bed and reach out for me only to realise I wasn’t there?
Was he regretting his impetuous decision to move out?
Did he want to come home?
I supposed I was about to learn the answer to those questions.
The Purlock Arms was an unassuming pub on an unassuming high street, tucked between a bookmaker’s and a fried chicken shop.
As I pushed open the door and the smell of beer greeted me, it crossed my mind that Sam might have deliberately chosen the least romantic location in London for us to meet in.
Then I saw the door leading to a garden at the back and my spirits lifted.
Sam was sitting alone at a table under a cherry tree, its blossom long since gone. He was wearing his old camo shorts and a grey T-shirt that had been washed so often it was almost transparent. He hadn’t shaved.
My stomach contracted with anxiety as I thought, He doesn’t care. He hasn’t made any effort.
He hadn’t been scrounging light-reflecting multi-purpose hero skin saviours off Jared, that was for sure.
He smiled when he saw me and stood up, but we didn’t kiss or even hug.
‘Hey, Georgia,’ he said. ‘Drink?’
I half-shook my head, but then changed my mind. If I had a drink, it would feel like a date. It would feel like we were two people who liked each other, hanging out in a beer garden on a sunny Saturday afternoon.
‘A glass of rosé would be great,’ I said. ‘But I’ll get it.’
‘I’ve got a tab open. Have a seat.’
So I sat. Sam had left his phone on the table, the screen still illuminated. But I wasn’t tempted to look at it. If there were messages between him and Ava on there now, I knew what they would be about. I had no reason to distrust him – I never had.
I wished it was possible to simply erase the past few weeks – to make it so they had never happened.
To rewind to when he’d first told me he was going to see Ava and say, ‘Okay. I trust you. I’m sure you’ll tell me why when you’re ready.
’ I wanted that time back – that life. I wanted Sam’s shabby grey T-shirt back in our wardrobe, and to eventually see him come home with a replacement and be with him for the years it took for that one to become transparent with age as well.
I wanted him. I wanted him back in my life where he belonged. I wanted to feel happy and safe again.
Sam returned with our drinks and sat down. He raised his glass to me but didn’t touch the rim of mine with his. His face was set and serious.
‘So,’ he said. ‘Ava told me she spoke to you.’
There wasn’t going to be any half-joking back and forth this time about whose turn it was to go first.
I nodded. ‘She came round this morning. She explained everything. Sam, I’m so terribly sorry. About everything – what happened to her, which is just beyond awful. And what it did to her and you, which must have hurt you terribly. But mostly—’
‘Mostly what?’
I stretched my hands out to him, almost pleadingly.
‘Sam, I’m sorry that those things happened.
But they weren’t my fault. I wasn’t there.
So I can’t really apologise for them. What I can take the blame for is how I reacted, and I completely, one hundred per cent do.
You said last time I saw you that there’s no point in having a relationship without trust, and I didn’t trust you.
I was wrong not to, and I want to apologise for that. ’
‘Thanks.’ He gave a weary smile. ‘I appreciate your apology.’
Which is a bit different from saying he accepts it, I realised with disappointment that was bordering on dismay.
‘It was hard for you, I know,’ he went on. ‘I get that. I never said I didn’t. Maybe I could have done things differently. Probably I should have. But I was so blindsided by what Ava told me, I guess I was still processing it, and I wasn’t ready to tell you even if she’d agreed I could.’
‘It’s a huge thing,’ I agreed. ‘Poor Ava.’
‘I was there, you know,’ he said grimly. ‘Afterwards. I saw her having panic attacks and heard her screaming in her sleep, and there was nothing I could do to help her because she wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. It was…’
‘It was what?’ Tenderness for him filled me, along with relief that he was confiding in me again.
‘It was almost a relief when she ended things with me.’ He shook his head.
Hearing that should have made me feel relieved too. If Sam had seen the end of their relationship that way, it meant that he hadn’t spent the intervening years hankering after Ava as I feared he had.
But I didn’t feel relieved. I just felt sad for them both. Tears pricked my eyes as I reached my hand across the table to him.
He didn’t take it.
‘So, yeah,’ he said. ‘I guess that’s a bit of context, from my end. Hopefully you understand better now.’
‘I really do,’ I assured him.
He took a long gulp of his lager, looking away over my shoulder and then meeting my eyes again.
‘When the stuff with you and Jamie first started happening,’ he said, ‘I thought you were just trying to wind me up. I was angry about it, but I was angry for all the wrong reasons. I thought it was stupid, petty game-playing. I thought you were better than that. But also, I could kind of understand why you were doing it. At least, I thought I could.’
I listened to his words, bewildered. At first, it seemed like he was getting it – that he’d seen through me, that his lack of a reaction had arisen from him not taking my pretence seriously.
But what he was saying now did sound serious.
‘But, Sam,’ I began, my words coming out in fits and starts.
‘That’s just what it was. It was stupid and petty.
It was Jamie’s idea. He thought if we made you jealous, you’d understand how I felt and you’d see my side of things.
I should never have gone along with it, but… I didn’t know what else to do.’
‘I don’t believe you, Georgia.’ His words felt like icy water being dripped down my spine.
‘You have to believe me!’ I could hear the panic and urgency in my voice. ‘It’s the truth.’
‘Then why did you kiss him?’ he asked. There was anger in his voice now. ‘Just yesterday, outside Green Park station? Jared was leaving work, and he saw you. He told me this morning.’
‘But I didn’t…’
Somehow, I couldn’t get any more words out. I couldn’t deny that it had happened, because it had, and Jared had seen us. I couldn’t tell Sam it hadn’t been my fault, because it had been.
He finished his pint and stood up.
‘I’m sorry it had to end this way, Georgia,’ he said. ‘I hope he makes you happy.’