by Hannah Pearl
I got back to university to find a note from Rob apologising, but I wasn’t sure how to explain my actions, so although we had a coffee together and made our peace, we never did go out again. He said he hadn’t meant to be pissed off when we had argued. He’d only reacted when I’d yelled at him and he’d argued back but he hadn’t meant what he’d said. I didn’t know how to tell him that I’d effectively cheated on him, so I just said that maybe we weren’t that well-suited after all, and we went our separate ways. A few weeks later I saw him making out with another medical student so I guess I hadn’t hurt him too badly after all.
I didn’t want to remember how cheap I’d felt when I realised that I’d messed up my best opportunity so far to go out with a man properly, one who had actually cared about me. I’d spent months questioning my choices back then. My notebook was a testament to the confusion, with whole chapters devoted to how good it could have been with Rob if I hadn’t broken up with him. Then there were the other sections, trying to justify why I’d hooked up with George. Even though we’d never made a commitment to each other I had adored him.
Looking back I was surprised at what I’d written. I’d remembered how attracted to George I’d been, and the strength of the friendship we’d built up over the years that I’d known him. I’d forgotten though how angry I’d felt at him afterwards for never ringing me, especially when Rob and I had finally talked and it became more evident what I’d thrown away. It was strange to see the emotions that had been so keen at the time, played out in my own handwriting. It was as though the feelings had belonged to another person, they were so long ago and far away from how I felt now, but wasn’t that the point? To recapture the feeling of being free to fall for someone again?
Would looking Rob up just remind me of how easily I’d run away from him last time? I’d set myself the challenge though, and skipping over the parts of my history that I was most uncomfortable about wouldn’t help me understand myself any better.
I googled his name, and found that he had a private clinic in London, offering cosmetic surgery consults. There was a small photo of Rob, wearing his white coat, glasses and a stethoscope and looking very professional. It was a far cry from when I’d last seen him, dressed in ripped jeans and a T-shirt depicting his favourite heavy metal band. His ponytail was gone, replaced by a shorter, slicked back look. It showed off his cheekbones and, if anything, he looked better now than he had back then.
I sent Charmaine a link to his website, and wasn’t surprised when an hour later my front door opened as she let herself in ready to make battle plans. ‘How about you book an appointment to see him? You could pretend you’re thinking of having a nose job,’ she suggested.
My hands flew to my face. ‘Do you think I need a nose job?’ I asked.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Of course not, but it would be an excuse to see him, then you could go in and act all surprised that you’ve bumped into your ex.’
I got up and fetched a notebook so I could make a list of possible plans. ‘Or,’ she continued, ‘you could fake a medical event, like a conference or a ball, and invite him to turn up to that, only when he arrives it’s just you there.’
‘I’d look like a stalker,’ I exclaimed. ‘There’s no way I’m doing that. He’d think I was nuts.’
‘You could ring him and say that you just realised that you were near his office and did he fancy a coffee for old times’ sake?’ she suggested.
‘That’s a pretty good idea,’ I said, and Charmaine sat back looking triumphant. ‘But how will I explain how I knew where his office was without admitting that I looked him up, and looking like a psycho ex again?’
She pouted and sat for a moment, thinking. ‘You could pretend you’re writing a book and you need to do some background research? You could say you’re writing to doctors that you knew so you can interview them?’
‘What if he wants to see a copy of my book when it’s written?’ I asked.
‘Loads of writers get ideas that don’t pan out. Besides, once you’ve met with him, you don’t need to contact him again, just say whatever you need to get him to meet you.’
I wasn’t sure, but it was the best plan that we’d come up with so I picked up my mobile and rang the number listed on the screen before I could chicken out.
Chapter Twelve
It turned out that all our plotting was unnecessary. As soon as Rob came on the line he was surprised but not displeased to hear from me, and had suggested that we go out for a coffee. We agreed to meet at the British Museum the following Saturday, and hung up without me needing to explain why I had rung him in the first place.
I chose my outfit for the meeting carefully, wanting to look both cute but professional, in case I did need to fall back on my pretence of interviewing him for a book. I finally settled on a navy blue and white cotton sundress, which ended just above my knees and went perfectly with some little blue kitten heels. I brushed my hair and left it hanging loose over my shoulders. Rob had loved running his hands through it when we’d dated.
I picked up my handbag and put in a notebook and pen, just in case, then walked up to the train station to head into town.
The British Museum never failed to take my breath away. The magnificent atrium with its sweeping staircases and high roof left me with a sense of awe. I glanced at my watch and realised that I still had ten minutes before I was due to meet Rob, so I walked around the grand entrance admiring the sense of space.
I still had a couple of minutes to spare, when I felt a hand on my elbow. I jumped, and turned to see Rob. His pale blue eyes twinkled as he greeted me and I wondered why he had agreed to come, though I was glad he did. He’d left the white coat and stethoscope at home, and yet he still retained the aura of calmness and confidence that I associated with doctors. Perhaps they needed those attributes, as they were responsible for making life and death judgements. Whatever it was, I was jealous because I felt as jumpy as hell.
‘Shall we wander round as we talk?’ Rob suggested. ‘No matter how many times I visit, I never get tired of admiring the exhibits here.’
I followed him round as he led the way, pointing out some of his favourite pieces and giving me a history lesson as he went. By the time we got to the coffee shop, my feet were aching, and my head felt fuzzy from trying to take it all in. I bought us drinks, but left Rob to carry the laden tray to a table. My hands weren’t steady enough and I was nervous of spills, but he was a surgeon so shouldn’t have the same problem.
‘So what did you really want to talk to me about?’ he asked as he handed me my hot chocolate. ‘Not that it hasn’t been lovely to see you again.’
I stopped to consider whether I wanted to go with my excuse of interviewing him, but as he sat and looked me in the eye, I decided that I would go with the truth.
‘I’ve been reminiscing recently, and I realised that I hadn’t been very fair to you when we went out,’ I said.
‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
I’d never told him before about sleeping with George, and I didn’t plan to now, but somehow he had guessed that when I came back after my weekend at home something had changed. ‘I should never have let one fight get in the way of us having a chance, I guess,’ I told him.
‘I kicked myself for ages when I thought about how rude I was to you,’ he admitted. ‘And that I sulked for so long and didn’t apologise.’
‘I never meant to mess you around,’ I said, my cheeks blushing as I said it.
‘It wasn’t your fault alone that we split,’ he pointed out, and I thought that he was being very generous. Even now, years later, I wasn’t proud of my behaviour. ‘I said lots of things I regretted afterwards,’ he continued.
‘That level of intimacy was new to me and I don’t think I handled it well,’ I fudged.
‘I did wonder,’ he admitted, ‘but I didn’t exactly manage it better myself, did I?’.
‘Well, you met Krista just a few weeks later, so it was a moot point after that anywa
y. Whatever happened to her? You were together for ages, weren’t you? I used to see you on campus now and then looking pretty cosy.’ I smiled as I said it so that he’d know I wasn’t feeling jealous.
‘We dated for a couple of years,’ he said, sipping his coffee. ‘I was starting to think about proposing, but then we ended up with placements at different hospitals and hardly saw each other. I forgot dates that we’d arranged because I stayed late with patients who needed my help. Krista said I made her feel like she came last in my long list of priorities, but then she refused to understand how important my career is to me. Perhaps I hadn’t changed as much as I thought I had. I didn’t apologise to her much either.’ He gave a smile but it was wistful.
‘So are you seeing anyone now?’ I asked, and then wondered why I had.
He set his cup down slowly and looked up at me. ‘I’m not, but I’m afraid I don’t think us getting back together would be a good idea.’
I laughed quickly, and a look of hurt flashed across his face. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, reaching out and gently touching his hand for a moment. ‘That wasn’t what I meant. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea by getting in touch again after all this time. I’ve had a couple of lucky escapes recently that got me thinking about my past and reminiscing, that’s all. I’ve always felt guilty about how I treated you, and I wanted to know if you were happy, that’s all.’
‘I am,’ he assured me. ‘You didn’t put me off dating, so please let your mind be set at ease. Come on, the weather outside is gorgeous, let’s walk for a while.’
I followed him out and he led us through Russell Square and up towards Tottenham Court Road and the enormous superstores of the West End.
Having clarified that I wasn’t there to try and initiate a new relationship with him he opened up and told me a little more about his personal life. ‘I was never sure what specialty I wanted to go into,’ he said as we walked, ‘but my dad invited me to join his practice and I’ve had some wonderful experiences. His colleagues are quick to let me watch their surgeries and scrub in on cases I’d never get to see otherwise.’
‘So it isn’t all desperate housewives needing boob jobs?’ I asked.
He grinned and shook his head. ‘Not my area of expertise,’ he said, and we both went quiet. I wondered if he was thinking about how he’d fumbled with my bra the first time I let him try and remove it. He coughed, and continued with his explanation. ‘I concentrate on facial work at the moment. There’s some elective work, of course, but also a lot of repairs needed after illnesses or accidents, and it’s incredibly rewarding to see how much I can help rebuild someone’s self -esteem when it goes well.’
I wondered when he mentioned self-esteem if he could tell just from our brief time together that day that mine was lower than it had been when I had last seen him.
‘I’m an English teacher now,’ I told him. ‘But I work in East London and I’m never quite sure how much I’m actually helping people.’
He laughed. ‘I’m sure your students appreciate you,’ he said, and I didn’t tell him about the caricature I’d found on the floor after a lesson once that made me out to look like a carrot with a face on it.
‘But to answer your question from earlier,’ he continued, ‘I am single currently, but I don’t mind. I date when I want to, but I’m working fairly long hours and it suits me not to have to worry about having to fit work around anyone else. Once I finish this programme next year I might start to think again, but for now this lifestyle suits me.’
We found a small park just off the main road and, though every square inch of grass was covered by people sunbathing and making the most of the odd few warm days, there was a space on a bench and we sat down.
‘And you? I take it you’re single then too?’ Rob asked me.
‘I am,’ I confirmed. ‘And I’ve decided to stay that way until I work out where I’ve been going wrong.’
‘And have I helped you with your research?’ he asked, spreading his arms across the back of the bench and raising his face to bask in the sun for a moment.
‘You have,’ I assured him, thinking about how I’d learnt to try and slow down and not rush head first into stupid choices, to face my problems and not run from them. Facing up to Rob had been far easier than I had dared to hope for after all. ‘For what it’s worth, I am sorry I messed up. I didn’t mean to hurt you.’
‘I was never cross with you,’ Rob assured me. ‘Not really. I was angry with myself for being young and full of hormones. For what it’s worth, I have tried since then to be a little more understanding and patient with my partners.’
Realising that Rob had needed the time and space for his own career was reassuring. As was finally letting go of the guilt that I’d messed up what could have been a good relationship by sleeping with George instead. Even if we hadn’t broken up when we had, we surely would have before long under the pressure of study demands, or possibly just the natural course of finding out who we were and what we wanted from life. And wasn’t that what university was about, after all.
‘It’s been nice to see you again,’ I told him, and he sat up straight to look at me.
‘It’s been nice to see you too,’ he said. I leant forward and kissed his cheek. Neither of us felt the need to swap telephone numbers.
‘Have a happy life,’ I told him, as I got up and walked away.
Chapter Thirteen
I wanted to have a happy life, which was partly why I’d started on this hare-brained scheme in the first place. I wandered in and out of a few shops on my way to the station, and thought about my life in general. My flat made me happy. In truth it was little more than a bedsit, but I’d rented it at a time when I really needed my own space, and it suited me perfectly. It represented the independence and freedom that I’d so desperately needed after I broke up with Ryan. It was only round the corner from my parents, but I got on well with them and really enjoyed having them nearby, or I would, when they returned from holiday in time for George’s wedding. Matt used to whine about them interfering but it had never bothered me. Maybe they trusted me not to get into trouble and didn’t boss me around in the same way. Maybe I’d just been better at hiding my more salacious activities from them. Either way, now that we were adults they had embraced their retirement and were on their second trip of the year to Spain already.
Charmaine was definitely a positive factor in my life, even if standing next to her made me feel short and very plain. She had a zest for life that was contagious. I guess she needed that kind of energy for the late nights and running around that came with working in a professional kitchen. She didn’t seem to get as easily thrown by life’s up and downs as I did, and yet she was always patient and understanding with me. For a while – and then she’d drag me out shopping or to see a band, so that my pity parties never lasted too long.
Even Matt, who for a long time had teased me until I wanted to scream, had calmed down in recent years. I wouldn’t say that we were best friends, but we could now be in the same room for a few hours without a world war breaking out, and that felt like a great start.
My tutor group would be leaving the school once we reached the summer holidays, and there were one or two kids that I would genuinely miss, though there were enough that I wouldn’t so I didn’t feel too sad. The head teacher had offered me the opportunity to lead on the English programme for the year sevens when school started again in September, but I’d been too nervous to accept. Whilst it would have looked great on my CV, and would undoubtedly have helped when it was time to move on to another school later, I’d turned it down. I didn’t want to take on more responsibility and run the risk of not doing a good enough job. So now I had five glorious empty weeks waiting for me to fill them with books, and walks and sunshine. I planned to sleep until lunchtime on my first day off, just because I could, but then to get up every day and do something exciting and different, just because I could. No one to tell me not to, or to call me lazy or tell me that I wasn’t e
nough, in some way.
Even Bea and Alice made me happy. The little girl was so affectionate it was impossible not to fall in love with her. Despite Bea’s recent heartbreak, she had a calmness about her that told me she was going to be okay. I’d promised them after the Dublin trip that I’d visit again, and I resolved to do so once my holidays started.
Which brought me at last to Jake. Even thinking of him made me smile, and I remembered how it felt when he’d kissed me. I found myself wishing that I hadn’t pulled back when I’d been dancing with him at the club. I’d pressed just close enough once to get a feel of his muscular frame underneath his shirt, before I’d moved away. He made me laugh, and it was so easy to spend time with him. But I reminded myself of how wrong I’d been about men in the past, and tried to distract myself from thinking about him any more.
I ran my finger along the rack of T-shirts in the shop, stopping when I came across a rich rusty orange one. I held it up against me, and decided to treat myself whilst I was out. They had a stack of fashion magazines by the till, and I picked one up to read in the bath later. A long hot bubble bath would be just what my feet needed after so much walking today.
The tube was busy and I didn’t get a seat until I was three stops from home, but I took it gratefully just the same. A five-minute walk at the other end brought me to my front door. It was almost teatime, and the heat of the day had slowly faded, leaving just a warm, hazy evening. It was enough to make me wish that I had a garden so that I could fix a salad for tea and eat outside.
I stood on my doorstep for a moment longer than I needed to, just to catch the last few rays of sunshine before I went inside. I swear sometimes I feel like I’m solar powered, I can almost feel my mood lifting as I warm up, and despite being tired I wasn’t ready to be indoors yet.
If I stood there any longer though I’d look like a burglar trying to break in, or like a dizzy woman who had forgotten her keys, so reluctantly I opened the door and started to look forward to sitting down instead, when I heard my name being called. I turned to see Jake and Alice, riding up the street. Well, Alice was propelling herself forward on a little bike that didn’t seem to have any pedals, and Jake was jogging alongside, bent over to stay at the same height as her, trying to keep up.
