Page 92 of Five Things I Love About You

‘I do,’ I say. ‘I’m coming home.’

29

It only takes a week to make the decision and turn down the job I’d been offered and, although the family renting my house aren’t due to move out for another month, Kirstie has said I can stay with her.

‘Move in for good,’ she says when I tell her. ‘I’d love to have you here all the time. We can be little old men-hating ladies growing old together. We could get cats!’

‘I think a few weeks will be enough for now,’ I say, laughing. ‘But thank you for the offer. I might take you up on it in thirty years or so.’

‘You’re no fun,’ she says, and hangs up on me, leaving me with a huge smile on my face. I might be leaving behind the man I thought was the love of my life, but I’m going home to my friends and until I made the decision to return, I hadn’t realised quite what a hole had been left in my life with them so far away.

Speaking of the love of my life, ending things with Jay hasn’t been easy. He was shocked at first, then indignant, insisting he hadn’t done anything wrong. But even as I was saying the words I realised I wasn’t as upset as I should be. I had tried to love this man, believing he was the one I was meant to be with, that the universe had made him my destiny.

Sometimes, it turns out, the universe makes mistakes.

The truth is, Jay was never going to be my soulmate. He’s kind, funny and handsome. But we’re too different. We like different things, have different beliefs.

Affair aside, he’s a lovely man. He’s just not the man for me – pink tie or no pink tie.

As I drive over the Tyne Bridge and leave behind the city that has been my home for the last six months I feel a sense of contentment wash over me. And excitement.

I’m going home.

But it’s a long journey, and by the time I get to York, the radio is grating on my nerves, so I switch it off and let my mind wander as I drive on autopilot.

Inevitably, my thoughts turn to Matt. I’d tried to lock thoughts of him away in a box in my mind; tried not to open the box or even touch it. Because no good could ever come of it. But now as I drive, the box opens of its own accord and I give in, letting memories and thoughts flood my mind.

I miss him.

There it is. I miss Matt, who was never my boyfriend and who I only kissed once, drunk, more than I miss the man I’ve been seeing for the last three months. Who, until last week, I’d believed I was starting a new life with.

What does that say?

I wonder where Matt is. What he’s doing. Who he’s doing it with.Stop it, Miranda.But it’s too late and the memories are coming thick and fast now: how tender he was with Gladys, how devastated he was at the thought of losing her; the conversations we had about music, books, the passion he had for his job. Then I think about the hook of his eyebrow when I said something funny; the curl of his lips, the dark thatch of wild hair; his eyes, and the way they looked at me when he thought I wasn’t watching.

Then there was… The Kiss. That kiss that had felt so right, even when I knew it shouldn’t be happening. And then I remember the look on his face when I ran away from him and I feel my heart crack a little all over again.

The road is blurring through my tears and I decide it’s time to stop. I pull over into Peterborough services and tap out a quick WhatsApp message to Kirstie to tell her I won’t be long.

‘Can’t wait to have you home,’ she replies and I feel a shiver of excitement.

* * *

It’s not every day that a traffic-choked ring road makes your heart sing with joy, but today that’s exactly what happens the minute I hit the North Circular. With every mile driven, every junction passed as I came down the A1, I’d felt the tension seep from me, but this road? This horrible, fume-filled nightmare of a road really does mean home.

By the time I pull onto Kirstie’s street and find a parking space, I feel as though the weight has lifted from my shoulders. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, then?—

Bang, bang, bang, bang!

I scream as I turn to the window and see Kirstie’s face peering in at me. My heart’s hammering but I fling open the door, climb out, and her arms are round me before I’ve even had time to draw breath. We hold each other for ages, and when she finally peels away, there are tears in both our eyes. I swipe my face with the back of one hand, while Kirstie clings onto the other one.

‘Fuck, Miranda, I’m not one to be sentimental, but I’m so glad to have you home,’ she says.

‘I’m so glad to be home.’ I look round. ‘Where’s Soph?’

‘She’s coming over in a bit. She had an emergency reiki appointment to do for someone or something.’ She pulls a face then moves round to the back of my car, hoiks the boot open, and drags out a suitcase. ‘Come on, let’s get you inside and pour you a massive glass of wine.’

* * *

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