Take a Moment

by Nina Kaye

  I move on to another exhibit, pretending to be fascinated by its contents.

  ‘Lex, come on. I’ve known you almost all our lives. Have you… met someone?’

  A hot flush creeps up my neck. ‘No. Why would you say that?’

  ‘Because the look on your face there was exactly the one I’ve seen every time you’ve met a guy you like – Dom included.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t.’

  ‘Yes. It was. Who is he?’ She bounces up and down impatiently.

  I roll my eyes at her overenthusiasm, aware that she’ll be very disappointed by the anticlimax I’m about to deliver.

  ‘Sash, there’s nothing to get excited about. I met a guy on the train. Twice actually. He was sitting opposite me and we got talking. He then asked me out and I said no. End of.’

  She scrutinises me intensely. ‘Why did you say no if you clearly like him?’

  ‘I don’t…’ I realise I can’t fool her. ‘OK, look, I took his number but I didn’t call him. Just didn’t think it was a good idea, being so soon after Dom and I split up. I was still a bit broken from that.’

  This, of course, is a half-truth. It was about Dom at first, but then it was about my MS. After the stairs up from the platform half-killed me.

  ‘Fair enough. And?’

  ‘And nothing. That’s it, story over. Told you there’s nothing to get excited about.’

  ‘Nah, that’s not it. There’s something else you’re not telling me.’ Sasha manoeuvres herself between me and the exhibit, forcing me to make eye contact with her.

  I let out an exasperated laugh, realising there’s no way I can put the blinkers on her.

  ‘I might have bumped into him in a bar after work.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And he asked me why I didn’t call…’ I tail off as the memory starts chasing round my brain again.

  ‘AND?’ Sasha looks like she’s about to take off. ‘Lex. Will you just give me the whole story without me having to force every last bit out of you?’

  I groan in surrender. ‘I met him again in a bar when I was out with my workmates. He asked why I didn’t call, and I said I’d been busy.’

  ‘But why reject him again if you obviously like him? The first time I understand, but you were a few weeks into things here. As you said yourself, you don’t dwell on the past. So why not have one date? See if the spark was real.’

  I pick at a loose thread on my cuff, not wanting to admit the truth. Or say it out loud. I could try to maintain it was about Dom, but what would be the point? Sasha would see right through that facade.

  ‘Lex?’

  I exhale theatrically, eyes to the ceiling. ‘I did it because it was for the best. I did him a favour, Sash.’

  ‘How was that doing him a favour?’

  ‘Because who would willingly take on someone in my situation? Dom verbalised what everyone else must think. Why would anyone knowingly sign up for a relationship with someone who’s already broken – at this age? And for whom they would eventually have to become the main carer. Who, Sash? Tell me who.’ I can feel my eyes start to sting with emotion, so I look away quickly to hide it.

  Sasha seems genuinely troubled by my monologue. It’s clear that she wants to tell me that I’m wrong, and that it doesn’t merit a second thought. But the thing about Sasha is that she really can’t lie. And I’ve got her in a headlock (metaphorically speaking).

  ‘So, there you go.’ I shrug and return to picking at the thread on my top. ‘I did him a favour. He’s an active guy. Second time I met him, he got on the train at the Lake District after completing a three-peak challenge – that’s a thing, in case you didn’t know.’

  ‘I’ve heard the term before.’

  ‘Someone like Matt needs a woman who’ll join him on that kind of adventure, not hold him back.’

  ‘Matt. That’s a nice name.’ Sasha links arms with me and guides me towards a large wall-mounted infographic.

  ‘It is. And?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s a name that makes me think of a kind, genuine person. Someone who’d care more for others than himself. Who’d perhaps be a bit hurt if he knew why you gave him the cold shoulder.’

  ‘Are you trying to guilt me on this?’

  ‘No,’ she replies in a tone that makes it clear to me that’s exactly her aim. ‘Just giving poor Matt the benefit of the doubt. You’re right, Lex. A lot of people wouldn’t take on the situation you described. But people are different. Perhaps some people wouldn’t see it like that at all. Matt might be one of them.’

  I snort with laughter. ‘Think you’ve gotten a bit wrapped up in the romance of that film we watched last night.’

  ‘No, I haven’t. I’ve already agreed with you that most men wouldn’t take your situation on. But you don’t want most men, Lex. You want one that’s amazing. What are you going to do otherwise? Spend the rest of your life alone? Never date again?’

  ‘That was kind of the plan.’ I give her a sheepish look.

  ‘Well it’s a daft plan. Sorry. But it is.’

  ‘If it were you, what would you do?’

  She considers my question. ‘I obviously can’t say for sure, but I’d like to think I’d give Matt the benefit of the doubt. Maybe go on a few dates and see what he’s like before sharing my situation. Then if he ditched me because I’m not a perfect specimen, I’d be hurt, but I’d know he wasn’t the right one.’

  ‘When did you start talking so much sense?’

  Sasha nudges me playfully. ‘Since I dated half of the men in my local area and realised that most of them are totally self-absorbed or a complete waste of space. If I met someone that had even the slightest bit of potential, I’d be on his trail like a sniffer dog.’

  ‘You realise that makes you sound like a crazy stalker?’

  ‘Ha ha. You know what I mean. I’m just saying, Lex. What if you wake up from this understandable but illogical viewpoint several months from now and the only guy who might have fit the bill isn’t available any more – because some other sensible woman has snapped him up?’

  ‘Appealing to my competitive side now, are you?’ I chuckle.

  ‘Did it work?’

  ‘A little bit. OK, say I agree to follow your play on things. What if I don’t bump into him again?’

  ‘You said he was part of the Friday night after-work crowd. It’s Friday today. Let’s go back to the same bar. Start there.’

  ‘What are the chances he’ll be there?’ I give her a doubtful look.

  ‘If he’s not, then you’ll have to hope you see him again when you’re out with your workmates. But it’s worth a try. I could do with a night out. See if I can meet a nice Brummie lad for myself. That is, if you’re up to it?’

  ‘I’m up to it. OK, let’s do it. But to be clear, this is just about me being more open-minded, nothing more.’

  ‘Great.’ Sasha looks super pleased with herself for bringing me round. ‘Shall we head to the guided tour?’

  Chapter 17

  Several hours later, as we’re returning from our trip to the Jewellery Quarter, I feel myself flagging, which triggers doubts about how I’ll manage a night out as well. Other than a couple of reasonably short Friday after-work drinks sessions with my team, this is the first time I’ve tried to be active through the day and also well into the evening. And it’s the first weekend since starting my new job that I’m not going to have a significant rest period. It plays on my mind: particularly how I’ll be on Monday after it all. This annoys me. What was it Emmanuel said? Just go have fun.

  As we reach my apartment and let ourselves in, I feel my eyelids drooping.

  ‘Don’t know about you, but I’m quite beat,’ Sasha declares. ‘Shall we have a siesta?’

  I’m unsure whether she’s picked up on how I’m feeling, whether she’s just playing it safe, or whether she really is tired herself. At this point I really don’t care. I need to lie down, before I fall down.

  * * *

  By 7:30 p.
m., Sasha and I are glammed up and waiting to be served in the bar in which I bumped into Matt. It’s just as busy as last time, full of workers in corporate outfits, but thankfully I’m feeling much fresher after my ninety-minute not-so-power-nap.

  ‘What are you having?’ Sasha raises her voice over the music and the lively after-work chat in the bar.

  ‘Gin and Fevertree, please. And a glass of tap water.’

  ‘Sure thing. So… is he here?’

  ‘We’ve just got here. Give me a chance.’ I shake my head at her overzealousness. ‘Anyway, that’s a side task for this evening. If I bump into him then I’ll say hello. I’m not committing to anything else.’

  ‘But you agreed.’

  ‘I agreed to be more open-minded. And not rule out dating for the rest of my existence. That’s all.’

  ‘That’s as good as agreeing to go out with him.’

  ‘Not sure where you get that logic from.’ I gesture towards a woman in too-high heels tentatively leaving the bar, trying not to spill the four champagne cocktails on the tray she’s holding. ‘Quick, claim your space.’

  Sasha expertly dodges into the eighteen-inch opening that’s appeared at the bar. As I stand behind her waiting for her to be served, my eyes roam around the room. I try to convince myself I’m just soaking up the atmosphere, but I’m kidding myself. Much as I’m resisting Sasha’s puppy-like excitement, she’s made me consider things from a different perspective and see that my application of my ‘new life’ rules has been inconsistent. It is totally unrealistic to think I can happily trot along through life in full celibacy. I was getting married before my body committed the ultimate betrayal and I still want that – with the right guy. I’m adamant that I’m going to live as normal a life as possible. So why did that vision not include a relationship, possibly even marriage?

  This realisation has ignited something in me. I want that date with Matt. It doesn’t need to mean anything at this stage. I can just have some fun and use it as an opportunity to get back into the dating scene.

  As I scan the room, it becomes clear that Matt’s not here. It’s now chucking down domestic pets outside, so it’s not likely he’s in the outdoor seating area either. I feel a twinge of disappointment. What if it was complete coincidence that I ran into him before? What if I never do so again? My problem-solving brain immediately steps in to answer this: in that case you’ll move on and meet someone else.

  I decide I’m not satisfied with this answer and refocus my attention on Sasha, who’s now being served. She passes my drink back to me and we make our way across the bar to see if we can find a seat. Luckily there’s a group just leaving, so we’re able to commandeer one end of their table.

  ‘Is he here?’ Sasha asks me again.

  ‘No, he’s not,’ I confirm, instead of trying to deny I was even looking. ‘Not that I can see anyway.’

  ‘That’s a shame. Maybe he’ll still turn up.’

  ‘Doubt it. It’s a bit late to come from work. He might not be out at all tonight. Or is somewhere else.’

  ‘Hey, how about we play detective and try and track him down?’ she suggests.

  ‘You mean stalker-style?’ I raise a judgemental eyebrow.

  ‘What? No. But you want to run into him again, don’t you?’

  I let out a small groan as I sip at my drink. ‘Fine. You win.’ I relay some details while she taps them into her notepad app and stares at them thoughtfully.

  ‘OK, Sherlock. What do you deduce from the information I’ve given you?’

  Sasha looks thoughtful. ‘Well… the most obvious lead to follow is his job. Let’s see if we can find him on LinkedIn.’

  She opens up her mobile web browser and types ‘Matt Manufacturing Engineer Birmingham’ into Google. The search quickly returns a list of results.

  ‘Look, Lex. There’s quite a few.’ She clicks into the first one. ‘Is that him?’

  ‘Does that look like the kind of man I would be interested in? Think thirty years younger and one hundred per cent less grey hair.’

  ‘Right. But I need more info. What am I looking for?’

  I conjure up an image of Matt. As I do, the memory of his easy smile immediately morphs into his defeated acceptance as I shamelessly palmed him off with my lame excuses. It makes me wish I had the flexibility of a contortionist, so I could give myself a good kick up the arse for being such a stubborn idiot.

  ‘You OK, Lex?’ Sasha gives me an odd look.

  ‘Eh… yeah. Just thinking. He’s tall and athletic, mid-brown hair, dark chocolate eyes and… a close-cropped beard that defines his jawline perfectly, a kind of Jamie Dornan look about him… and when he laughed, his eyes glinted with just the slightest air of mischief…’ I trail off dreamily.

  ‘Oh wow, you’ve got it bad, Lex.’ Sasha giggles. ‘Not sure I ever heard you describe Dom in that way.’

  ‘What? No, I haven’t…’ I redden as my mind plays back the physical description of Matt I’ve just unwittingly verbalised. ‘Oh, stop it, Sash. All you need to know is: athletic, brown hair and eyes, beard. Probably much like a lot of men around here.’

  ‘OK, OK. Is he any of these guys?’ She clicks in and out of another three LinkedIn profiles.

  ‘Nope. Who would have thought there would be so many people called Matt or Matthew who were manufacturing engineers in Birmingham?’

  Unwilling to give in, Sasha searches Facebook and Instagram as well, but to no avail.

  ‘Sash, this is hopeless,’ I say. ‘Let’s just enjoy our night.’

  Reluctantly giving in, she puts her phone away as I try to ignore how disappointed I feel knowing I might have missed my opportunity with Matt.

  * * *

  By the time it hits ten p.m., we’ve enjoyed a delicious Thai meal in the restaurant I went to with my team on my first day, and we’re now contemplating our next move.

  ‘What do you want to do?’ I ask Sasha. ‘This is your weekend.’

  ‘I’m quite full and the food coma may be clouding my judgement. I’d like to go to a bar and see a bit more of the Birmingham nightlife, but I could just as easily go back to yours and veg on the couch. Also…’ She glances at me and hesitates.

  ‘You’re wondering whether I’m feeling up to going somewhere else.’

  ‘Well, yeah.’

  ‘I’m OK, Sash. Actually, I’m feeling quite good. Makes me wonder if I’ve actually made my fatigue worse by not being active enough.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘What did we agree?’ I raise a reproving eyebrow at her. ‘You’re allowed to ask, but you have to accept my answer.’

  ‘We did agree that. OK then, I can battle through the food coma. Where are we going?’

  I consider this. ‘I’ve no idea. Bars-wise, I haven’t ventured further than Brindley Place yet.’

  ‘Broad Street is the main nightlife strip, isn’t it?’ Sasha asks. ‘Someone at work told me that.’

  ‘Yeah it is. And it’s right near here. Shall we start there?’

  ‘Sounds like a plan.’

  We pay our bill and venture into the distinctly wet and chilly late evening air. The rain splashes into growing puddles that mirror the inviting lights of Brindley Place, making us glad we thought to bring an umbrella. As we approach Broad Street, we’re greeted by a sea of well-oiled, boisterous people, whose behaviour as a collective is not miles away from the troop of chimpanzees I watched in a nature documentary recently. There’s certainly a lot of screeching and alpha male behaviour on show, watched over by the local police, and a couple of ambulances standing by.

  ‘What is this?’ Sasha looks genuinely intimidated. ‘I thought Glasgow was lively on a Friday night. This is more like Magaluf.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s not for us?’ I suggest. ‘Especially as I’ve already hit my two-drink limit. I’d need to be a good bit merrier to even consider joining that lot.’

  ‘Maybe we could walk on a bit and see what we find?’

  ‘Good thinking.’<
br />
  We quickly continue along the street, but not without being propositioned by a couple of men and a woman. There’s a man throwing up in a bin, and another taking a pee just round the corner of one of the bars. He keeps poking his head round the corner to check the police haven’t clocked him, which makes me wonder why he doesn’t just go to the men’s toilet inside – and whether his shoes are still dry.

  As we pass a side street, my attention is drawn down it to a hub of activity. It’s another bar, but the punters standing around smoking outside appear a bit more sober.

  ‘What about there, Sash?’

  ‘Seems all right.’ She peers along the street, trying to get a better feel for it. ‘Saves us walking any further, at least.’

  ‘Let’s take a look.’

  We make our way towards the bar, nodding at the punters outside as we enter. It’s closer to a pub, with more traditional decor and upholstered furnishings that, while a bit tatty and worn, further add to the charm of the place.

  ‘It’s my round,’ Sasha informs me. ‘What would you like?’

  ‘I’ll just have a Coke, thanks. You have a proper drink though – if you want one.’

  She nods her understanding and makes her way to the bar, while I make a beeline for the only vacant table in the place. I sit myself down on the fixed bench-style seating, facing into the room. It’s packed out with high-spirited Friday night revellers, giving it a warm and welcoming feel. The energetic dance track pumping through the ceiling-mounted speakers doesn’t quite match the decor.

  It’s very much a bar that attracts all types. I’m just sizing the place up as a potential Friday after-work drinks venue for my team at work when a booming voice comes over the PA.

  ‘Right, then. Who’s up next? It’s… Shanice. Shanice, up you come.’

  As the room breaks into whooping applause, my karaoke radar goes into overdrive. I crane my neck to get a better view of the other side of the room. There, I spot the owner of the booming voice, as well as a television screen emitting full ‘karaoke blue’. A beautiful woman in her twenties, jet black hair piled high on her head and wearing a figure-hugging gold dress, makes her way across the room. She plucks the microphone being offered to her from the karaoke compère and poises herself, ready to sing.