The Bucket List to Mend a Broken Heart (35 page)

‘Um, the closest you’re going to get to mine is when you walk me back there on
your way to the taxi rank.’

Joseph raises his eyebrows at me in a way that used to make my knickers ping off all on their own.

‘Oh, really? Where’s this willpower come from?’

‘From having someone rip out my heart and stamp on it.’

Did I say that out loud? I can’t seem to stop blurting out thoughts that were meant only to rattle around my head.

‘Ouch,’ says Joseph, putting his hands theatrically
to his heart. ‘I guess I deserved that. So walking you home it is then.’

I smile weakly.

It’s so weird, for months I’ve been dreaming about this moment, and now that it’s here it feels so alien. I was never lost for words around him before, whereas now I’m struggling to know what to say.

‘I totally understand that I can’t come back to yours but, Abi, you’ve got to know how much I’ve missed
you.’

He places his arm around me and leans in close to my ear. His hot breath warms my neck as he talks and I tingle all over.

It’s the one time in my life that I’m actually thankful that I have hairy monkey legs, because the fear of him seeing them is stronger than my willpower.

It’s not only that I’ve missed him, but I also haven’t had sex for three months.

‘Joseph,’ I say, pushing him
away. ‘If this is going to happen, then we have to talk about everything, and
if
we do get back together, it would have to happen slowly. We’re not just going to pick up where we left off. We’ll have to go out on dates, and see how it goes.’

‘Dates?’

‘Yes,’ I say, nodding. ‘You’ll have to put in some ground work and I want you to get to know the real me.’

‘The real you?’

He looks confused,
but until I started the list I don’t think I knew who the real me was. I’d been so caught up in my relationship with Joseph and fitting into his life that I never gave him the opportunity to see who I was.

He’s clearly taken aback but I really mean it. I’m not going to be a pushover. If he wants me, he’s going to have to work for it.

‘OK,’ he says. ‘If that’s what it takes.’

I breathe a sigh
of relief.

‘So, why don’t you tell me what you’ve been up to over the last few months? From the look of your Facebook you’ve been quite busy.’

We settle down at the table my friends so hastily vacated and talk. Not about our relationship and his feelings, but about what’s happened since we broke up. I tell him about the different challenges, without explicitly telling him about the list.

As
we talk I try to banish thoughts of Sian and Ben. I’ve got what I wanted, surely that’s what matters.

The bell rings for last orders and I decline another offer of a drink from him. Any more and I’m likely to cave and invite him back, hairy legs and all.

We manage to make it back to my flat with me batting his groping hands away at various points in our journey.

‘So,’ he says as we stand on
the front steps of my apartment block.

‘So . . .’

It feels like one of those awkward moments on a first date where you’re not sure whether to go in for the kiss or not. But I don’t have to wonder for long as Joseph launches himself at me.

He swoops me up in his arms and the next thing I know his lips are on my mine.

It’s a familiar and sexy kiss and it’s making my resolve weaken.

‘I’ll call
you for a date, and we’ll have that talk,’ he says, propping me upright and walking down the stairs.

He flashes me a smile with his perfect white teeth and I wave as he leaves. My legs are a little too wobbly to allow me to walk up the steps just yet, so I stand there for a moment, watching him go.

When I finally get the power back to my legs, I head into my flat. Walking into my familiar space,
I lock the door and throw myself onto my bed.

It seems like I’ve got what I wanted. So why the bloody hell am I feeling so confused?

Chapter Twenty-Five

One week exactly to the abseil, and I’ve pretty much got Joseph back . . . My throat’s a little sore and I’m starting to feel a bit dizzy. Have you heard that there’s flu going round . . .?

The door to the bike shop jangles as I push it open.

Ben wasn’t joking when he said the shop was busy on a Saturday. There might only be a dozen or so people in the shop, but it’s absolutely
buzzing. The customers don’t seem like your usual casual Saturday browsers. Everyone here means business and there’s some serious shopping being done.

I spot Ben over in the corner with one of his expensive bikes, bending down at the foot of a tall, skinny fair-haired man, as if he’s trying to judge the optimum seat height.

He stands up as the man rotates his leg, and there’s much muttering
and nodding going on between the two.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have come. Ben’s clearly in the middle of something, but my mind’s been thinking of nothing else since last night. This morning, instead of waking up ecstatic that my plan to snare Joseph back appears to have worked, all I felt was guilty about Ben leaving the pub.

I’m hoping that by clearing the air with him it will leave me free to
be happy about Joseph.

I’m about to turn and leave, thinking that I can come back later this afternoon when the shop is emptier, when I see Ben’s spotted me. He says something to his customer before walking in my direction.

‘Hi,’ I say, for the first time nervous to be around him.

‘Hi,’ he says, in a very matter-of-fact un-Ben-like way. There’s no hint of his usual smile on his face or in his
voice.

I really shouldn’t have come.

‘Was there something you wanted? I’m a bit busy at the moment, well, the shop’s packed,’ says Ben, turning and pointing as if I’m an idiot who’s failed to notice.

‘Yes, I see that. I’d been hoping that we could go and have a chat, maybe over your lunch break if you’re busy?’

‘I don’t really get a lunch break on a Saturday.’

‘Not even a teeny, tiny coffee
break?’ I say, wincing and hoping. All I need is twenty minutes away from the hustle and bustle – Ben’s distracted eyes keep watching the customers around his shop.

He sighs loudly, clearly sensing that the quickest way to get rid of me is going to be to agree.

‘Fine, about three? I’ll meet you at the Smile Cafe down the road.’

‘Great,’ I say, wishing I could have toned down my enthusiasm a
notch. ‘Three it is. I’ll see you then.’

I go to say goodbye, but he’s already turned and walked back to his customer.

I hurry out of the shop in case he comes back over to tell me he’s changed his mind. I look at my watch. It’s only eleven thirty, I’ve got another three and a half hours to kill.

I walk down the little side street and back to Marmion Road, glancing at the shops that line it
for inspiration.

I’m only a fifteen-minute walk away from my flat. I could go back there and do some cleaning, or, more likely, box-set-watching, but my feet don’t want to go in that direction. Part of me thinks that if I go back there I’ll drive myself mad with my thoughts. Southsea doesn’t have a huge number of shops, but I’m sure there are enough for me to browse slowly round them and distract
myself.

I start in a furniture shop with the most beautiful wooden pieces. I don’t often come in here as my flat isn’t big enough to swing a cat in, let alone fit in any more furniture. But as I run my hands along a beautiful oak sideboard I start to imagine it in my dream house. My one-day-when-I’m-a-grown-up house. Whenever that may be.

It’s the kind of thing that would go beautifully in Joseph’s
town house. Not that he’d need it, his house is already spectacularly furnished. My stomach lurches at the thought of him. I still can’t get over last night’s events. I keep replaying them over and over in my mind. The moment that he walked into the pub; the moment he came up to me; and the one where he asked me if there was hope that we might get back together.

It was all too unbelievable, yet
it’s overshadowed by thoughts of Ben and Sian.

In my head I’d imagined that when Joseph came back to me, he’d sweep me off my feet and we’d head into the sunset, whilst my friends waved and cheered us on. Only Ben’s got under my skin. That’s why I need to meet with him, to find out what he was trying to say last night before he left. I need to get that sorted before I can think about Joseph and
me.

And Sian. Well, that’s going to be a harder one.

I climb the stairs and find myself staring at bookcases that are the ultimate bibliophile’s dream – they would hold hundreds of books and look fantastically stylish.

I try and distract myself with thoughts of the dream house again, but Sian’s voice is now rattling round my head. Her disappointment. Her anger. It’s going to take a lot for
us to recover from that.

I know from experience that there’s no point in going to see her today. She’s far too mad at me. She’s best left to stew for a few days and whilst she’s not going to get any less angry if I see her later in the week, I’m going to be less in danger of having random objects thrown at my head.

I texted her this morning to say sorry. I knew that I wouldn’t get a reply but
I wanted her to know I was thinking of her.

I rub my eyes as I feel tears start to collect behind them. I’m not going to go down that route again. I’m not going to cry out of self-pity.

I walk out of the shop and back into the fresh air in a bid to try and stop the tears.

I find myself standing outside a bridal boutique and I look at an exquisite dress in the window and wonder what I’d look
like in it. It’s a real princess dress, full of silk and lace and oomph, nothing like I’d choose for myself.

For a fleeting second I imagine the type of wedding that Joseph would want. I know it would be big and fancy. This would be the type of dress he’d expect me to wear.

Maybe this shopping malarkey isn’t going to help distract me after all.

My phone beeps in my bag and my first thought
is that it’s from Sian, but when I get it out, it’s Joseph.

Fancy coming up to the Ship for lunch? We could have that talk x x

The Ship is a pub outside Portsmouth, and I groan at the thought of leaving the city on a Saturday. The two main roads in and out of the city get congested at the weekend, and the thought of having to go out and come back in when it’s a beautiful sunny day and so many
people are bound for the beach is enough to put me off.

It isn’t lost on me that he hadn’t suggested coming in to take me out to lunch near where I live, as I know that he hates Portsmouth weekend traffic even more than I do.

I quickly fire back a text, telling him I already have plans and could we do it another day.

Technically I do have time to go out of the city and meet him for lunch and
still be back in time to meet Ben, but I need to get my thoughts straight before seeing him.

As I hit send I wonder what’s happened to me. Last week I would have bitten someone’s hand off to be in the same room as Joseph, and now I’m turning down the chance to hear him tell me what he’s thinking.

I shake my head in disbelief.

I force myself to keep walking down the street and next up on the
row of shops is a local chocolatier – today I’ve got no willpower to resist going in. I usually only restrict myself to window shopping. But it’s been one of those days.

I’m ordering myself some salted-caramel-filled chocolate when I spot some chocolate-covered honeycomb with marshmallows. I buy Ben a dozen, and hope that they’ll go some way to getting him to forgive me.

When I leave the shop
I look down at the rest of the street and realise that I’m in no mood to shop. Instead I head towards the seafront. Maybe a walk along there will blow the cobwebs from my mind, and maybe blow some sense into me at the same time.

I make it back to Marmion Road and the cafe where I’m meeting Ben with five minutes to spare. My feet are aching from walking so far in my little slip-on canvas shoes.
I went all the way to the east side of the city, as far as I could without ending up at the nudist beach – I’ve made that mistake before and being confronted with an old man’s willy swinging in the breeze is not what I need to see ever, let alone in the mood I’m in today.

The door rattles as it opens and I see Ben walking towards me.

I wave and smile as if he’s going to have trouble seeing me,
but at this time in the afternoon there’s only me and one other couple in the corner of the room.

‘Hey,’ I say as he sits down in front of me.

‘Hi,’ he says, sighing and picking up the menu.

‘Busy day?’

‘Always is on a Saturday,’ he says, shrugging.

He orders a coffee from the waitress and a panini, and I order the same. My mind’s racing trying to think of what to say to make a decision about
what to have. I’m just relieved he’s ordered food as I’d worried he was going to run in and out and we wouldn’t get time to talk properly.

‘I bought you these,’ I say, pulling out the bag of chocolates and handing them to him. He opens the bag.

‘Marshmallow and honeycomb,’ he says, a small smile escaping through his stony exterior. ‘They’re my favourite. How did you know?’ he says, squinting.

‘You mentioned it when we were on one of our tea breaks when we were out riding.’

‘And you remembered,’ he says, slipping one into his mouth. ‘I know I shouldn’t when I’m just about to eat but I’m starving.’

‘I can’t pass judgement, I bought half a dozen for me and I’ve eaten them all already.’

Ben smiles and I feel like we’re going back to how things used to be.

‘I’m touched, though, that
you remembered.’

I shrug my shoulders as if it’s no big deal really.

‘So, last night,’ I say, tucking my hair behind my ear.

‘We don’t need to talk about it.’

The waitress puts our drinks down in front of us. Ben busies himself pouring sugar into his coffee and stirring meticulously.

‘I think we do. I want to know what you were going to say before Joseph came in.’

Ben looks up at me and
holds my gaze before looking back down at his cup.