Hot Desk

by Zara Stoneley

  Confession? Turn the clock back? What is he talking about?

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Oh hell, here we go, I hate those words. I want to close my eyes, because for some strange reason my brain thinks not seeing him say it will soften the blow. I don’t. I am manning up these days. Facing my issues head on. ‘I’ve been a shit.’

  Leading me on? Oh, fucking just say it, put me out of my misery! My teeth are gritted, it is starting to set up a throbbing in my temple. I can’t just sit here quietly any longer. I’ll explode if this goes on much longer. ‘Look, whatever, it’s not a problem, forget it. I get it, you’re not—’ What am I about to say? Into me?

  ‘I remember you,’ he blurts out.

  We stare at each other in shocked silence. The hum of the cafe carries on, but I feel removed. We’re not part of it.

  ‘You…’ My hands are clammy, the back of my neck is all prickly. It’s excitement, I think, and anticipation. And disbelief. Does he mean what I think he does?

  ‘I remember kissing you.’ He takes a deep breath, but he looks relieved, as though he’s needed to say the words. ‘At Reading Festival.’ He adds the qualifier, but he doesn’t need to. No need at all.

  ‘Reading Festival,’ I echo, closing my eyes as it all floods back. Then, ping, all the loveliness vanishes and my eyelids spring open. The relief and excitement is replaced by a hurt that floods through me with shocking intensity.

  This man I’ve grown to really like, this man I’ve trusted, shared with, joked with, has been lying to me.

  He remembered. He pretended he didn’t. I suddenly realize his hands are over mine, and pull away. ‘Don’t touch me.’ My voice is shaky. All this time when I’ve been agonizing about whether to say something. How to say something.

  All the embarrassment I’ve felt and tried to hide as the lust was obviously totally one- sided. The awkwardness that has only gone when we’ve been swapping notes and not having to see each other face to face. When I’ve been able to relax and not feel daft, when it’s felt like a new flirty relationship. A fresh start.

  He knew he’d kissed me and still frigging walked away in that bar. Then totally blanked me.

  ‘Purple hair and glowsticks,’ I say quietly as the words he said in my room to Sophie slip into place.

  ‘It slipped out.’ His cheekbones are red-tinged.

  ‘And that’s why you decided to say something,’ I snap.

  ‘Not just that, I—’

  ‘You’ve ignored me,’ I whisper, the bitterness sharp to my own ears. ‘You pretended for two fucking years that it didn’t happen.’

  ‘Fuck, Alice. I’m sorry.’ He buries his head in his hands, then runs his fingers through his hair before looking up at me again. I’ve never heard him swear before. I’m not sure if that, or the fact he remembers, is more shocking. ‘I knew you’d recognized me; I saw it in your eyes.’

  ‘And you still walked away.’ My voice is flat. I can’t quite believe this. I have spent the last few years dreaming of the boy I’d kissed, crushed against him in the middle of a crowd, wondering if I’d ever meet him again, wondering if he was just a figment of my imagination. And then, when we did, he let me think it was too insignificant, I was too insignificant for him to remember. I’m angry.

  ‘It was shitty to pretend I didn’t recognize you. I get it if you hate me.’

  His words, the genuine tone of his voice, the way he is looking at me, so sincere, dissipates some of the hurt. I’m not a naturally angry person, I don’t hate. Well, not often.

  It ebbs away, leaving confusion. ‘But why? Why?’ I want to shake him. ‘Was it so bad?’ I try and get my thoughts in order and stop the words just falling out of my mouth in a jumble. Too many questions, too much hurt, too much lust. ‘You… I thought you must have been so drunk you didn’t remember.’

  ‘It wasn’t bad at all.’ He smiles a small rueful smile, and I don’t know whether to love him or hate him. ‘I was wasted, but I couldn’t forget something like that.’ He stares straight into my eyes. His blue-grey ones studying me intently and even though I’m angry, I think I’ve lost the power to breathe. This is the bit in the movies where they grab each other and kiss passionately, make up for all the lost time.

  It isn’t a movie, it doesn’t happen. The air between us is full of static though. That tension, when you’re waiting for something to happen.

  ‘I couldn’t get you out of my head for months,’ his soft voice breaks the silence.

  ‘I couldn’t either.’ My mouth is dry. I couldn’t get him out of my head for years, I want to add. Ever since. But I don’t.

  ‘You were the crazy, gorgeous girl that I couldn’t find again.’

  ‘You looked?’ I swallow to moisten my throat. I can’t be angry, it’s like I’m looking at that guy again.

  ‘Yep.’ He nods, smiles, his dimples deepen. ‘I also drank a lot, danced a lot, sang a lot and generally had a wild time. But I did look in the in-between times.’

  ‘Me too,’ I admit. Why pretend? ‘There were a lot of people there.’

  ‘Mayhem.’

  I want to say it, I need to say it, I need to ask about the bar. It wasn’t mayhem in there.

  ‘I didn’t recognize you straight away, when you started at We Got Designs.’ He smiles. ‘Your hair was a different colour, and your clothes, well…’ He chuckles.

  ‘I hope you’re not dissing my plum hair and denim shorts.’

  ‘Not one bit, they were so sexy, along with the wild make-up and all those leather bracelets and rings.’ Wow, he took in more of me than I did of him. The feel of his lips on mine, his hot mouth, are my main memory. ‘Well, what I saw of it all, before you were swept away.’ He tips his head to one side. ‘You had a fringe, and a ponytail, it made your eyes look so big.’ He grins. ‘You were like a punk Audrey Hepburn.’

  ‘Ah, the elfin face thing, I’ve put weight on since then!’

  ‘It suits you, it’s just different, it confused me. I’m easily confused.’ He grins. ‘I really didn’t recognize you straight away, I guess I couldn’t believe it could be you. But there was just something familiar about you, that I couldn’t put my finger on.’

  ‘I was the same. At first I thought you were festival guy’s double.’

  ‘Festival guy.’ He grins.

  We stare at each other. Remembering. I wonder if our memories are the same? I can’t help but smile. ‘Your hair was longer, shaggy.’ I’d fantasized about running my fingers through that tousled hair as we snogged.

  ‘In the bar, when I bumped into you in the corridor it all came flooding back.’ The corners of his generous mouth lift. ‘It must have been because we were crushed together again! I realized it really was you, I wasn’t going mad, you were my festival girl.’ The smile broadens. ‘Different hair colour, different make-up, different clothes, but it was the same you.’ He nods his head, remembering. His voice is so soft, I can’t help but lean in towards him. ‘Same scent, same lips, same soft skin.’

  I try to swallow the lump in my throat away. I hadn’t been wrong; I hadn’t been kidding myself. We’d had that moment of knowing at exactly the same time. I’ve been waiting for this for so long, and now it’s happened it isn’t how I imagined at all. ‘I should be so mad at you right now.’

  ‘You should,’ he says softly. ‘I thought my mind was playing tricks at first, that I just wanted it to be you. But when our bodies touched, I knew it was you.’ He breaks eye contact. Stares at his coffee. ‘I was going to kiss you again, and then that silly twat barged into us.’

  Oh my God, so near and yet so far.

  ‘I felt such an idiot for not saying something the day we started work, asking if we’d met before. but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. What if I’d got it wrong, what if you weren’t that amazing festival girl? Then the fact it nearly happened again, it felt like maybe it was meant to be. I was going to come and say something, until…’

  ‘Until?’

  The chatter in the cafe, the clatter
of cups on saucers, the laughter has all receded, barely noticeable. There’s just him and me and it feels like this moment is important. Our fingertips are touching, even though I’ve tried to keep a distance. It’s as though he has some magnetic hold over me. Only his teasing, and the distance between our desks, and being so sure he didn’t remember me, has forced me to resist. To keep my distance.

  ‘I realized it would be a mistake. It would ruin everything.’ His voice is flat.

  Boom, just like that the lovely feeling is popped.

  ‘A mistake?’

  ‘It seemed stupid to even mention I recognized you. That kiss was so fucking amazing,’ he is staring into my eyes, ‘why mess it up with real life?’

  I stare at him. ‘Mess it up?’

  ‘Okay, you’re going to think I’m crazy, but I’d been remembering, fantasizing about that moment at the festival for so long I almost didn’t want to meet you again. It was perfect.’ He stares into my eyes. ‘But I reckoned it had to be my imagination, it was all in my head. A kiss couldn’t be that good, real life could never live up to that.’

  ‘What? You’re saying I’m not good enough? Thanks, that’s great. Great.’ Heads turn. I lower my voice, and my head. I scowl at him and start to push my chair back. I need to get out of here.

  He reaches out a hand, but stops short of actually grabbing me. ‘Alice, no, it’s not that at all. I didn’t mean that. Please don’t go, wait. Jack, the guy who bumped into us?’ I nod. ‘He said something in the bogs about how you had a steady boyfriend. I mean…’ He shrugs.

  ‘That’s just an excuse! You could have told me that you remembered.’ I sink back down onto my seat, but perch on the edge – ready to go.

  ‘I’m doing a shit job of explaining; I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. Hell.’ He rubs the palms of his hands over his eyes. ‘Okay. Right, I thought it would have been wrong, wrecked how I’d imagined it might be. How it was supposed to be. I couldn’t even think about kissing you again when I knew you had somebody else.’

  ‘But you could have said something. Not chickened out.’

  He folds his hands together and stares down at them, then glances up. He keeps glancing up, catching my eye, it’s as though he can’t help it. ‘I didn’t want to kill the dream completely,’ he finally says. ‘That would have been the end of it, wouldn’t it? If I’d said something, and you’d laughed it off.’

  ‘I get that.’ I know that feeling.

  ‘Look, I’ve had relationships, girlfriends, we’ve got on fine, liked the same things, respected each other, fancied each other and I’ve been happy. It was normal, great and I thought that was it, what it was all about,’ he pauses, ‘and then I met you.’ He stares at me. ‘When we kissed, I was completely blown away, it felt totally different. It was only a few seconds, but wow! That was all it took. I couldn’t forget you; I was totally obsessed. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about us. It was unreal, Alice, it wasn’t me. I’m not that kind of person. I’m sane, sensible, steady. Normal guy, normal life. I was scared, Alice. Nothing could really be that good, I told myself it was just the high of the night at first, the booze, the atmosphere. But when I got home, and my hangover had gone, I still couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was crazy. And then when I saw you again…’ He shakes his head. ‘When I saw you in the office, I felt the same.’ He looks at me intently. ‘I panicked, I was an idiot, a coward. I decided I couldn’t risk it. Nothing could be that good, could it?’

  ‘How do you know, if you don’t try it?’ If he’d said all this a few months ago, I might have just nodded and said I got it. But it’s not just about him, is it?

  This is as bad as me yelling at my housemates and throwing them out of my room, this is taking it too far to protect yourself. Not taking other people’s feelings – mine – into account. ‘You didn’t trust me enough to tell me, risk it.’

  ‘I didn’t know you at all.’ He leans back away from me a bit. ‘But I do now, so that’s why I wanted to try and explain. I do trust you, Alice.’ He flattens his hands on the table, only inches from mine. ‘If I could turn the clock back, I would.’ He stares through me, into the past. ‘I went out with this girl, in the sixth form, not long before that gig. I thought we were brilliant together. She was pretty, clever, funny, we had a good time. Then she said it wasn’t working, that we weren’t mad enough about each other. I didn’t get it at all, back then.’ He shakes his head. ‘I was devastated, shook up because I’d really thought we were right for each other. Then I kissed you and I got what she was saying. Kissing her had never been like that. I’ve never been with anybody and felt like it was everything until…’ There’s a long pause. Our gazes meet, lock. ‘I kissed you. You were everything, Alice.’ He shakes his head slowly from side to side. ‘I did want to find you, at first, honest, then I got scared that it was just a one-off. One kiss that I’d built up in my head as something more than it was. I thought if I saw you again, I’d find out you were just human, like any other girl, that if we got together it would just turn out to be normal and flawed and we’d row, get it wrong, get it right. It kind of confirmed it when we nearly kissed again, and I found out you were going steady.’

  ‘Not so perfect,’ I say softly. ‘I was the girl who’d two-time.’

  ‘I didn’t say that. I just wanted to keep that magic moment. Remember what being mad about somebody, being sure they’re the one, felt like.’ He taps the side of his cup, not looking at me. ‘I didn’t want to lose it because I might never feel it again. It’s the closest I’ve ever got to thinking having something that good could exist for me.’ His blue-grey eyes stare directly into mine. ‘It felt like it wasn’t meant to be, Alice.’ His voice is soft.

  ‘You could have at least said hi, haven’t we met before!’ I could have done that as well, I’m just as guilty, but he’d been completely stonewalling me. I’d been too embarrassed. He obviously didn’t remember me, or fancy me, so I’d decided to keep quiet.

  My God, can you imagine if I’d brought it up and he’d denied even being at the festival?

  He looks embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry. I know, I should have done. But, well, I thought I’d be better keeping my distance and forgetting about it. And things got a bit complicated, you had your guy and I got chatting to this girl and…’ Didn’t he just. I think I am scowling. ‘It didn’t mean anything. She was just somebody who was funny, and no expectations, just normal.’ He looks uncomfortable for a moment. ‘I thought.’

  ‘I’m sure she’d be delighted to hear you sum her up like that!’ I say, my voice dry.

  ‘It was supposed to be just a bit of fun, she wasn’t serious, or I wouldn’t…’ He still seems really on edge, then sits up straighter as though he needs to move things on. ‘Anyway, that doesn’t matter, I felt a total git for pretending and I didn’t know how to put it right, how to explain. I kind of thought you’d just think I was a massive dick if I suddenly turned round months later.’

  I raise an eyebrow.

  The corner of his mouth lifts in the start of a smile. ‘Okay, okay you think I’m a dick now, but hey I had to come clean now we’ve been…well, with the notes and, well, we’ve kind of got to be friends.’ Eurgh, I hate that word. Friends. ‘It felt wrong not being upfront.’ He looks at me, studies every feature of my face as though he’s trying to look into my head.

  ‘And you cocked up by mentioning purple hair?’

  He looks bashful, shifts in his seat. ‘Yeah, and that. We can still be friends?’

  We had other people to consider back then. But what about now? I can’t help the little flutter inside of anticipation. Of hope. Does this mean… Or when he says friends, does he really mean that. End of.

  ‘To be honest I was a bit pissed off when I found out you had a boyfriend, because I was so close to saying to hell with it and grabbing you. One minute I thought you wanted to try another kiss as much as I did,’ oh my God he did, he wanted to try another kiss! ‘then,’ he shrugs, ‘I reckoned I must h
ave misread the signs, and maybe you regretted snogging me. Maybe you didn’t want reminding, and I reckoned it would make it really awkward at work for both of us.’

  ‘I wasn’t seeing Dave when we were at Reading, I was single.’ I need to make that clear. His memory of that kiss seems to match mine. Perfect. I don’t want him thinking I’m a two-timing tart. I swallow to clear the blockage in my throat, the huskiness from my voice.

  Jamie nods slowly. ‘Same here.’ Our gazes meet again. ‘I was single, not looking for anybody. Just single.’

  ‘I wish you had told me,’ I say softly, feeling sad. Jamie wants to just hold on to that memory of a fabulous kiss, skip the relationship bit because I could never live up to the promise.

  I wish he’d told me when we were in that corridor, I wish he had kissed me that second time. I wish I’d been single. I wish Jamie hadn’t got chatting to some other girl instead.

  ‘So do I.’ His voice is soft, his smile is lopsided. Sad. ‘I wish we’d talked. But…’ He shrugs.

  ‘Things happen?’ I can’t help myself. I have to fish. I have to know. Is he telling me this so he can draw a line under the whole thing? What happened between him and that girl? Claire. Are they still together?

  He nods. ‘Things happen. Life gets in the way. Good, bad.’ There’s the hint of a frown between his eyebrows that he shakes away. ‘Well not bad, unexpected.’

  ‘Unexpected?’

  ‘It’s just I found out…’ He hesitates, as though he’s going to add something else, then stops himself. ‘You know, just life.’

  I’m not sure I do know. I feel like he’s skipping something, brushing over things still. I feel like I’m losing him all over again.

  ‘It was good though, wasn’t it?’ The sadness in his face lifts, there’s a glimmer in his eye. ‘That kiss.’

  ‘Amazing.’ Oh God, this is awful. There’s a lump in my throat. This is how my fantasy ends. Our moment confined to history.

  ‘It did scare the shit out of me though, and the fact I’ve never been able to get you out of my head!’ His mobile beeps and he doesn’t look at it, but it seems to snap us back to the present. ‘Hey, you’re going to be late for work. You should get to the office, I suppose?’