Page 127 of If I Never Met You

‘This really kind of you, and you’re a great mate to him,’ Laurie said. ‘I think Jamie and I are just not meant to be.’

This was said off the top of her head, given Laurie wasn’t otherwise one for fate, and mystical catechisms.

‘Fuck “meant to be”!’ Hattie said, heartily, ‘Meant to beis too passive, in a crisis. He’s talking about moving to London. I know he’d stay in Manchester if he thought you wanted him. Part of the reason he’s going is to avoid seeing you around. He said it’s not even about seeing you with other men, just that simplyseeing youwould hurt too much.’

‘He said that, did he,’ Laurie said, with a doubtful tone.

‘Yes, he did.’But, said that little voice,he’d hardly tell his best gal pal, he was up to no good.

‘He’s right, he probably needs to go,’ Laurie said. At least she’d be spared seeing him draped over someone from Office Angels in that tiki bar.

‘Laurie, seriously, I am going to back my claims up. I’m going to show receipts. He and I always stay in touch over email. Massive long Gmails about all sorts of things you know, and it’s quite personal. Things we wouldn’t tell anyone else.’

‘… OK?’

‘He sent me one the Sunday after you got together. Let me read it to you …’

‘Hattie …’ Laurie said, but she obviously wasn’t going to be diverted.

‘Hats, big news: I finally told Laurie how I feel. I was absolutely bricking it, but seeing her with another man, briefly (explain another time) (God I am still fuming, I knew that beefy beta mope was going to crack on to her from the start) put me into the kind of state where a man listens to Nick Cave albums at top volume and smashes back bottles of whisky, while primitive roaring. It spurred me into action, and I turned up on her doorstep at midnight and declared myself. She said she felt the same way, but, understandably was very wary of me after the times I’d bragged about being Poundshop Errol Flynn.

This, despite the fact I was a quivering mess at the sight of her bra strap, or had been trying to hold her hand all the time, like we were fifteen. It didn’t apparently clue her in to the fact I hadn’t been that person since almost the moment we met. She has no ego in thatway whatsoever, I don’t think. So that’s something I can definitely bring to our relationship, haha!

We’re so similar, Hats. That’s the wonderful, strange, incredible thing that we would never have found out, if it weren’t for Salter & Rowson solicitors off Deansgate being skinflints in building maintenance. We help each other, in a way that I didn’t know was possible. We’re a little way off the heavier conversations regards marriage and kids but there’s pretty much nothing I wouldn’t feel I could tackle if we did it together. I keep thinking: if I’d never met her, how different things would be. I scoffed at the idea anyone could make you see your life through new eyes and I’m so, so glad to be wrong.

Anyway, sorry for the heated prose. At least you’re spared hearing the sex was amazing eh! (The sex was amazing.) (I know how terrible and juvenile this sounds, but I didn’t know what it could be like with someone you’re actually in love with.)

She’s so gorgeous, I get slightly out of breath thinking about her. I can’t wait to bring Laurie back to Lincoln and for you and Padraig to meet her properly. I want everyone to love her as much as I do, though Mum and Dad are there already I think.

Hey how’s the infection, did it clear up?

‘Wait, discount that last part, that wasn’t directly relevant content,’ Hattie said.

Tears streamed down Laurie’s face as Colin Fur let go a guttural howl from somewhere above her head.

‘Did you … wail?’ Hattie said, hesitantly.

‘No, that was the kitten.’

‘Jamie’s getting the four p.m. train to Lincoln, so he’ll be at Piccadilly in half an hour,’ Hattie said. ‘I’ll just leave that there.’

44

Where was he where was he where was he?

Laurie scoured the concourse for Jamie to no avail, but looking at the Departures board, hehadto be here, somewhere.

She’d locked the kitten in the kitchen and dragged on any old things on top of her ‘it’s Christmas Eve, time to let go’ outfit of baggy joggers and sloppy, shapeless wide-neck jumper. The Uber had been painfully slow to arrive but once she was in, they’d flown through the streets, past boozy office workers spilling out of the bars and up the ramp of the station, where Laurie had practically fallen out before the car came to a complete stop.

He must’ve gone through the barrier by now. At a ticket machine, Laurie endured an agonising wait behind the world’s slowest stoner gap year boys, wearing flip flops with socks in December, then bought the cheapest she could find, a single to Stockport, and dashed through to the other side.

When she got to the platform, she looked right, left, right, left. He wasn’t here. Had Hattie got the time wrong?

Her eyes came to rest on a man in a navy coat with shortcurly dark hair and exceptional cheekbones, standing by the Coke machine, staring at her.

There.

In her haste, Laurie half skipped to him, apprehension at what she had to say briefly cancelled out by the elation of finding him.

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