Page 122 of Don't You Forget About Me

‘… I had to leave as I needed to think, and I didn’t want to speak to you in company. I hope you didn’t think I was flouncing or anything.’

‘Well. I wasn’t sure. I was kind of in my own head space, really.’

Lucas nods. ‘Please, please believe me when I say that I had no idea what happened to you, Georgina. Not the slightest clue. I know that’s bad in itself.’

‘I know you didn’t,’ I say. ‘I’d have had to tell you and I didn’t tell you. I didn’t tell anyone.’

‘I didn’t ask though,’ Lucas says.

I swallow. I’ve come too far to say the easy thing, rather than the honest thing.

‘No, you didn’t.’

Lucas shakes his head as he composes himself and we sit in silence again. I wouldn’t call it a comfortable silence, but it’s not a blank or an unwelcome silence either. Letting things settle.

‘I was … hearing you describe what went on. I failed you so badly. I am such an arrogant bastard that I thought the story of my life was people failing me, but that’s not true. I failed you in the most awful way.’

I shake my head. ‘You made decisions without all the information, which I’ve discovered is how we make every decision.’

I sound calm. I notice I’m gripping the back of the chair in front me so tightly that my knuckles are white.

‘I did, Georgina, I failed you then, and I failed you now. That night … I keep thinking about me saying that I didn’t want youafterwards,how it must have felt. It makes me want to cut my own tongue out.’ He rubs his face with his hands, looks back at me. I nod slowly. I can’t pull these punches, not now.

‘Yeah. It hurt. Like I am damaged goods.’

‘And you saying you were worried about us, thinking about us, when you were trapped with him …’

Us. After all this time, he is using ‘us’, and he’ll never know what that means to me.

Lucas has his arms folded in front of him, leaning back against the counter, long legs propping himself up. ‘Georgina, I saw what person you are – I mean, I already knew, I should’ve known – and I saw what person I am. Petulant and self-absorbed.’

I give a small laugh. ‘Bit harsh.’

Lucas closes his eyes. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Thank you.’

‘It wasn’t true, either.’ He clears his throat. ‘I did still want you, afterwards, of course I did. But I was so full of jealousy and outrage, I lashed out, using someone else. Thought I’d show you I didn’t want you, if you didn’t want me.’

My heart contracts for the people we once were and I have to clear my throat, too, before I can speak. ‘I thought that was what it was but I couldn’t be sure. It didn’t make things much better, so I didn’t set too much store by it.’

‘It was cruel, immature shit on my part.’

‘I think eventually it became easier to believe you’d never cared, rather than it being revenge, as it would’ve meant Richard Hardy truly ruined everything for me. And when you said you didn’t remember me this time round, it confirmed it.’

Lucas shakes his head.

‘I didn’t know how to deal with it, when you asked me if I recognised you, that night after the stripper fracas. I took the first exit, as fast as possible. I reasoned I’d never mattered to you, so best off acting like it was the same for me. In wounded male ego, I might’ve overdone it and come off as this arch, “dozens of bed notches” tosser.’

I laugh and he winces. ‘I’d thought I might see you in passing in Sheffield, I braced myself for it. Then there you were behind the bar with my brother at the wake and I almost fainted. I had a few minutes to get my face straight, to decide how to play it.’

‘Ha, well, I completely believed you.’

‘Well, I had a lot staked on you believing me.’

He pauses. I wonder if bracing himself, almost fainting, if these things mean we still have something left here.

‘It’s not right that I had to find out something so awful had gone on, to have any compassion for you. I saw how you were treated afterwards, I heard what people said. I shouldn’t have needed to be told you were assaulted. There’s such a thing as peer pressure. There’s such a thing as just making a mistake, or being a kid. Given what we had, to ask you, “Tell me what happened” … that question should not have been beyond me. Imagine how different things could’ve been if I’d had that much courage.’

---