The One We Fell in Love With (14 page)

Judy and Mum exchange a look.

‘I might know someone who has a spare room,’ Judy says carefully as Mum shifts in her seat.

‘Who?’

‘Angus.’

I slowly sit down on the sofa. ‘How is he?’ I ask.

‘Not the best,’ Judy replies downheartedly. ‘His student lodger has finished his course, now. He could do with some company.’

‘I don’t think he’d want
my
company.’

‘On the contrary, I think you could be the best thing for him at the moment. He’s always been very fond of you, and I think he’d be better off with someone familiar, rather
than another stranger.’

‘Have you spoken to him about this?’ I ask. I haven’t seen Angus for months. I’m not sure we
are
that familiar any more.

‘No, but if you’re interested, I will.’

Despite everything, the thought of being closer to Angus again fills me with joy. I’ve missed him.

Eliza

‘I’m off!’ I call to Michelle.

The bathroom door opens in a gust of steam.

‘Are you going straight to
Roxy’s
afterwards?’ my flatmate asks, a faded blue towel wrapped around her bare body and her dark-red hair dripping wet from the
shower.

‘Depends on how it goes,’ I reply. ‘If it’s quiet in town, I might come back here and drop off my guitar first, otherwise I’ll see you at work.’

‘Okay, see you later.’

Michelle and I waitress together at a burger joint in the Northern Quarter. It’s quite new and it has a nice buzz about it, which makes for a very pleasant change from
Mario’s
. I always thought I’d be leaving the Italian restaurant for a career in music, not more waitressing, but alas, life still hasn’t panned out that way. I
haven’t given up, though. Not yet.

‘Thank you,’ I call after the small boy who has just dropped fifty pence into my guitar case. His mother smiles at me over her shoulder and I give her a nod and carry on singing.

I quite like this area of town. I rarely busk here, but Vikram the Juggler was in my usual spot earlier so I had to move on. He always draws a decent crowd, but this town ain’t big enough
for the two of us.

Two young children, a brother and a sister, pull on their mother’s hand to get her to stop. The girl runs forward and starts to sway to the music. I smile at her and up my jaunty
factor.

Dad once told me that my whole face lit up when I sang. He said I looked ‘like an angel’.

My smile slips slightly at the memory of him, but I force it back into place as the woman passes her children some loose change to send in my direction before dragging them away.

I don’t know what comes first, the hairs standing up on the back of my neck or me seeing him, but suddenly I’m locking eyes with Angus. He’s standing stock still about twenty
metres away. My song falters and he shakes his head slightly, willing me to continue, but I can’t.

It’s the first time I’ve seen him in months.

‘Sorry,’ I apologise to the group of teenagers who are listening. They don’t care. They shrug and head into McDonald’s as I pack away my things.

‘You shouldn’t have stopped,’ Angus says, close to me now. Every nerve-ending in my body is on edge.

‘I need to get home anyway,’ I murmur. ‘I’ve got to work tonight.’

‘What time do you start?’ he asks.

‘Six,’ I reply.

‘Eliza, that’s hours away,’ he says sadly.

‘I have to go,’ I mutter, clicking my guitar case shut and slinging the strap over my shoulder.

‘Wait,’ he says strongly. ‘Look at me.’

Reluctantly I do as he asks. It’s a mistake. The expression in his eyes makes me want to cry.

‘Hey,’ he says as I crumble.

I turn and walk hurriedly away.

‘Liza, wait!’ he calls after me. A moment later he’s by my side, keeping step.

‘Angus, leave me alone. I don’t want to see you.’

‘Yeah, well, we don’t always get what we want, do we?’ he says bitterly, grabbing my hand and roughly dragging me to a halt on the pavement. ‘I haven’t spoken to
you for so long. What are you doing now? Can we go for a coffee?’

I shake my hand free. ‘Why?’

‘Jesus, Eliza.’ He glares at me. ‘Don’t I deserve half an hour of your precious time? After all these years?’

I shake my head miserably, but I can’t disagree with him and he knows it.

‘Okay,’ I whisper.

His whole body visibly relaxes. ‘There’s a place around the corner,’ he says with a sigh.

‘What are you doing in town?’ I ask, when we’re sitting at a table opposite each other.

‘I needed to pick up a few bits for the apartment.’ He gives me an odd look. ‘You do know Rose is moving into my spare room, right?’

I nearly knock myself out on the table. ‘You are kidding me. How did
that
happen?’

‘Don’t you ever speak to your mum?’ he asks with disbelief.

‘Of course I do! I spoke to her a few days ago, but she didn’t mention it.’ Probably too scared I’d bite her head off.

He sighs. ‘It was my mum’s idea. She’s got it into her head that I need a woman’s company instead of another student, and with the spare room sitting there empty and Rose
being homeless when your mum’s house sale goes through, it seemed like a good solution.’

I don’t know why the thought of this upsets me so much, the idea of Rose seeing Angus every day, especially since I’ve tried to avoid him completely.

The waitress brings over our order. I hope to swallow the lump in my throat along with my coffee.

‘You’ve lost weight,’ Angus says when she’s gone. ‘And you look pale. Are you okay?’ he asks.

‘I’ve been better,’ I reply honestly. ‘You?’

‘Same.’

He has dark circles under his eyes and his face looks tired and drawn. His dark-blond hair is longer, shaggier. He looks like he hasn’t taken care of himself, like he doesn’t care
about
himself.

‘Have you done any gigs lately?’ he asks.

‘A few. Just the usual venues.’

‘You’re still touring the working men’s clubs?’

‘Yeah.’ Angus knows this was not supposed to be my plan. Perhaps he senses my discomfort because he drops the subject.

‘It’s good to see you.’ His brown and green eyes are full of concern. ‘Even though you look terrible,’ he adds, deadpan.

Later, after we’ve passed the time chatting about small things, he offers to give me a lift home.

‘It’s okay, I can walk,’ I reply.

‘Let me drive you in my shitmobile.’ He elbows me in my ribs.

‘It’s not a shitmobile,’ I find myself saying. ‘I’ve always liked your car.’

‘Christ.’ He glances at me with alarm. ‘You’ve come over all sentimental. Are you feeling okay?’ He tries to press the back of his hand to my forehead, but I bat
him away.

‘When is Rose moving in?’ I ask unhappily as we walk. If he wants to drive me home, he can drive me home. I’m not going to argue.

‘Saturday,’ he replies. ‘Why don’t you come over, too? We could get a take—’

‘No, thanks.’

He shakes his head, dismayed. ‘Are you still not talking to each other? Why the hell not? It’s so screwed up.’

‘Our problems have been building for a long time,’ I reply in a low voice. ‘You know we’ve never really got on.’

He doesn’t press the issue so we continue to walk to his car in silence.

I don’t live far from the town centre, but it takes twenty minutes in traffic.

‘Is this it?’ Angus asks with apprehension when we arrive. He squints out of the front window at the sixteen-storey tower block that Michelle and I call home.

‘Yep,’ I reply with a wry grin, watching as he scopes out the group of youths standing on the corner.

‘It looks dodgy as hell.’

‘It’s not as bad as it looks, I promise.’ I get out of the car. ‘Do you want to come up for a bit?’

Despite my attempts to avoid him, I’m in no rush to part company.

‘Sure,’ he says.

‘You’ll have to forgive the mess,’ I say as I unlock the door.

‘You should see my place,’ he mutters, following me in.

‘I bet Rose will have it sorted out in no time,’ I say disdainfully, closing the door behind him. He ignores my jibe, looking around at the reasonably tidy living room. ‘What
mess?’

We have two pale-grey sofas with bright geometric-patterned pink and black cushions, a modern glass coffee table with a plant in the centre of it and, on the floor, a bobbly, dark-grey rug.
There’s a small balcony off the living room that is still overrun with plants from the last lady who lived here. I’m scared of heights so I never venture out there.

‘Michelle must’ve tidied up,’ I tell him. ‘Avoid the kitchen, though, just in case.’

Too late, he’s already on his way. The last couple of days’ worth of plates are still piled high in the sink. ‘That’s nothing,’ he says.

‘Is it a competition?’ I ask with amusement, throwing open the door to my bedroom. Clothes have been left where I took them off – I haven’t done my washing in almost a
week.

He purses his lips and cocks his head to one side. ‘Nope. I still win.’

‘How’s your post stack?’ I nod at the huge pile of envelopes, some of which I’ve opened, but haven’t put away.

‘About the same.’

He wanders over to the side table and I stiffen as he picks up a card, lying facedown on the pile. He opens it up and reads it, his smile slowly edging away until it’s gone. He puts the
card back down again.

‘Happy birthday for a couple of weeks ago,’ he says quietly.

I nod quickly. ‘Do you want another coffee?’

‘Have you got any beer?’ he asks.

‘Er, yeah. I’ve got to be at work at six, though, remember?’ It’s getting close to five now.

‘Don’t worry,’ he says ruefully. ‘I’m not settling in for the night. I can give you a lift on my way home, if you like.’

‘What are you, my taxi driver?’

‘Take it or leave it.’

I smile at him. ‘Okay, thanks.’

‘Where do you work now?’ he asks when I return from the kitchen with two beers – one for him and one for me.

‘
Roxy’s
in the Northern Quarter. The burger place.’

He nods. ‘I know it. One of my colleagues went there last week for his leaving do. He said it was great.’

‘How’s your job at the paper?’

‘It’s cool. It keeps my mind occupied.’ He takes a swig from his bottle. I do the same.

When I glance his way again, he’s already looking at me.

‘It is seriously good to see you,’ he reiterates.

‘It’s good to see you, too,’ I tell him honestly.

The key in the lock makes us both jolt. The door whooshes open and Michelle sweeps in, laden down with shopping bags.

‘Hey!’ she calls breezily, then stops suddenly in her tracks, staring at Angus. ‘Oh,’ she says, her eyes darting between us. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi,’ he replies casually.

‘Michelle, this is Angus. Angus, this is Michelle.’

Her eyes widen. ‘Angus,’ she says slowly, putting her bags down.

‘Yes,
the
Angus,’ I tell her wearily before she can ask.

She bounds over to shake his hand. ‘Nice to meet you at last!’ she exclaims, her grin almost cracking her face in half.

Angus returns the shake and glances at me, bemused. I shrug at him.

‘Have you been shopping?’ I ask her unnecessarily.

‘Yeah. Quite busy in town today, wasn’t it? How did you get on?’ She nods at my guitar case.

‘Alright.’

She reaches up and starts to unplait her hair. ‘I’m just going to jump in the shower.’

‘Angus said he’d give us a lift to work. Is that okay?’ I check with him – I hadn’t actually mentioned my flatmate.

‘Of course.’

‘Cool, thanks!’ Michelle says, shutting the bathroom door with a bang.

‘She seems like fun,’ Angus says as we hear the shower turn on.

‘She’s certainly a bundle of energy.’

‘It’s good to have someone like that around.’

The look in his eyes hurts my heart. Maybe it’s a good thing that he’ll have Rose for company. But as soon as I think that thought, I feel miserable again.

Phoebe

I am on such a high! I’m on Remy’s home turf!

Yesterday, we drove for almost five hours straight back to Remy’s old climbing playgrounds in the Cévennes National Park. Today we scaled a limestone peak and watched the Tour de
France cyclists in their brightly coloured jerseys making their way up the mountain’s hairpin bends, while helicopters roared over our heads.

Remy noticed that the river down below had carved out a sandy island in the shape of a heart. He pointed it out and kissed me before telling me that I’d changed his life. If I hadn’t
encouraged him to move from Turin, he wouldn’t be doing his perfect job right now. I was so touched.

I’m so happy tonight. I may be getting ahead of myself, but I feel like I’ve turned a corner. I know I was right to stay here.

When I picture myself living out Angus’s dream of settling in Sale, I can’t help but shudder.

Sale made me. I wouldn’t be the person I am without it. That first climb at the leisure centre and all the trips I did with Dad – they’re some of my happiest memories and I
would never change growing up in that beautiful home with my beautiful family.

But I’ve moved on. And now I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I don’t ever want to go back.

One of Dad’s favourite quotes has just sprung to mind:

‘Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.’

You may have been onto something there, Søren Kierkegaard.

I do want to live forwards, but I’d prefer not to contemplate what I’ve left behind. When I think about the future, I feel hopeful. Surely that’s the way it should be.

Rose

‘Has your dad gone already?’ I ask Toby. He’s alone in the bakery, wiping down the worktops. Gavin is normally still here when I arrive, having baked for most
of the night. Toby tends to come in when I do, and Gavin pops back in the afternoon to check up on things.

‘He left a couple of hours ago,’ he replies bluntly, barely glancing over at me.

‘Is he okay?’ I ask, hunting out my apron.

‘He’s fine,’ he replies, but appears in no mood to elaborate so I shut up.