Page 58 of Five Things I Love About You

‘You were there when some idiot on a bike pulled out in front of me and made me crash my car?’

Oh shit, he does remember it. ‘Er, yes.’

‘Right.’ He closes his eyes briefly, then fixes me with a gaze again. ‘But that still doesn’t explain why you’re here. Standing next to my bed.’ His voice is a bit louder now and something about it tugs at my memory.

‘No I guess not.’ I clear my throat. ‘I just… I wanted to make sure you were okay. It was a pretty bad accident.’

He watches me for a few moments, and I feel as though he can read my mind. Then he gives a nod, winces again, and says, ‘Well, that’s very kind of you, thank you.’ He peers down at the sheets covering his torso and legs and shakes his head. ‘As you can see, I’m very much still alive. A bit battered and bruised but I guess it could have been a lot worse.’

‘Yes, well, good. That’s great.’ I hitch my rucksack further up my shoulder. I’ve seen he’s okay now, I should probably just get out of there before he realises it was actually me who made him crash.

‘You’ll probably be the only visitor I get anyway so I guess I should be even more grateful.’

‘Oh?’

He lets out a puff of air and stares up at the ceiling. ‘I’m not exactly popular at the moment. Divorced, parents not speaking to me, kids barely want to know me.’ He tries to shrug but it clearly hurts so he stops midway. ‘To be honest I’d be surprised if anyone apart from my boss notices I’m even in here. So thank you.’

‘You’re… you’re welcome.’

I feel sorry for him but now I know he’s going to be fine, I need to get out of here. I turn to leave.

‘Will you stay? Just for a bit?’

I stop and when I swivel back to face him he’s looking at me with pleading eyes.

‘I—’ I start. I was about to give him a string of reasons why I have to go, why I need to be somewhere else. But actually, apart from bed for some sleep, I don’t really need to be anywhere at all. I try not to think about Matt, or the look on his face as I ran away from him last night, and instead I smile at this stranger in the bed, and nod.

‘Sure, if you like.’ I step back towards the chair and sit down, tucking my rucksack beneath my legs, and he smiles and holds out his uninjured hand.

‘Thank you. I’m Jay, by the way.’

20

The world slows, reduces to a pinprick, and I feel the air leave my lungs.

‘Sorry, what did you just say your name was?’

‘Jay. Well, James, but everyone calls me Jay.’ He gives a bitter laugh. ‘At least, they do when they’re actually speaking to me.’

Jay.

His name is Jay.

‘Hello? Are you okay? You’ve gone really pale.’

I snap my eyes open. Jay – or James – is watching me with concern. ‘Sorry, I’m fine, just a bit tired.’ I shake my head. ‘God, look at me making a fuss when you’re the one with all the injuries.’ I laugh, but it sounds hysterical.

‘Well, are you going to leave me hanging here any longer or are you going to shake my hand?’

‘Oh yes, right. Sorry.’Stop apologising.I clasp his fingers. They feel warm and dry. ‘Hello, Jay, I’m Miranda.’ When I let go, his hand drops to the bed, and I notice he’s still watching me, a frown creasing his forehead.

‘Lovely to meet you, Miranda.’ He pauses then, and squints at me as if something has just occurred to him. ‘I don’t mean to sound like I’m throwing you a terrible line here, but I feel as though we’ve met before. Have we? You look kind of… familiar.’

I swallow, my throat tight.

This is a lot to process.

Because if I’m right, and this is my Jay – the Jay from my dreams – then it also follows that this is the man I almost ran over last year in London. Would he have seen my face at the time, or even last night? I squeeze my eyes shut and try to remember the order of events that day. The lights turned amber, I tried to slow… almost ran him down, then at the last minute I swerved… then I hit the ground… and then – yes! Then I heard a deep Geordie voice –thisdeep Geordie voice? – saw a man with dark hair hovering over me and even though I couldn’t see him clearly, of course he would have been able to see me! Even though I was wearing a cycling helmet and was probably bleeding, there’s still a strong chance he might recognise me.

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