Page 88 of The Lucky Escape

‘One reason was that he was a landlord of like, fifteen apartments and houses,’ she said, her eyes going wide. ‘Ithought it was politically repulsive to make a living from keeping somebody else in the rental market … but that was before I had a friend who needed a rental …’

‘This is Moustache Man’s place?’

‘It is. And he’s somewhat still in love with me, so you are officially the first viewing. It’s not even with the letting agents yet.’

‘How much?’

‘Top end of your budget, but with all your bills included.’

‘Nooooo,’ I said, bursting out into a Cheshire cat smile.

‘Yes,’ Adzo insisted. ‘I can totally see you here. It’s small but it’s cute, the neighbours are great, it’s not too far from where you are now but far enough that you won’t have to ever walk back down that road with the memories if you don’t want to.’

I flung myself at her, screeching thanks and ‘OMG!’s at her.

‘So you like it?’ she said, pulling away from me.

I nodded. ‘I really want to live here,’ I said, reaching out to touch the wall. ‘This feels like home. In my very soul, I know I’d be happy here. Can I bring Carol?’

She put an arm around my shoulder. ‘You can,’ she said. ‘I checked. And for what it’s worth,’ she added, ‘the only thing this cost me was a happy hour. Turns out Moustache Man is still quite lovely.’

‘So we’re even? I get a flat and you get a boyfriend?’

‘Girl, please. Don’t hit me with your heteronormative relationship labels. I’m moving to America, remember? But also, yes. We’re even.’

The flat forced me to make up my mind for definite: I wanted to stay in London, and I wanted to live in that flat. Antwerp wouldn’t have been right for me – I just couldn’t leave Freddie.Accepting that was a relief. There was being adventurous, but there was also knowing what mattered more.

I snapped several images of the rooms, already planning how I’d furnish it. Because it was so light and airy, and because all the furniture from the house would be too big anyway, I decided on the spot to go minimalist and essential. What better time in my life to pare down all the rubbish I’d accumulated and only hold on to things that sparked joy?

I sent a photo to the Core Four and pulled up Patrick’s name to show him what Adzo had found for me too, but decided it would probably be a better conversation in person. Adzo was on the phone with her Moustache Man – my new landlord – locking down details of signing a private contract so we didn’t have to deal with an agent, hardballing him into making it happen sooner rather than later. I sent a text to Patrick and asked if we could meet.

Sure,he said, writing back straightaway.Tuesday?The pizza place? 7?

Tuesday?I texted back. That was days away.

I’m in Manchester. I came to hang out with my bro for a few days x

It hurt me that he’d left London for the weekend and hadn’t told me, and immediately I wondered if that was how he’d felt when I made plans to go to Belgium without giving him a heads up. If it was, I understood his reaction even more. When you’re a team, there’s common courtesies that are just rude if you don’t follow – like disappearing to a new location without an in-real-time update. Ah.

I told him it was a date.Have fun with Conor! Tell him hi! xxxxx

‘Okay,’ Adzo said, once she’d hung up. ‘Monday afternoon Moustache Man is going to come by the office if you canmeet us there? He’ll bring the contracts for you, and then we’re going to do dinner if I can duck out early.’

‘I’ve never been so productive on a hangover,’ I said. ‘I honestly can’t thank you enough. I thought I’d be banished to some damp bedsit in Zone 24 and never be happy again. But I’ll be happy here. I can feel it.’

‘Me too.’ She grinned. ‘Here’s to new beginnings.’

She raised her empty chai cup into the air and I reached to the counter to pick mine up and mirror her.

‘To new beginnings,’ I said, accepting that my next step really could be this easy if I let it.

42

On the same day I officially signed for the lease on the flat, I went to an open evening about a counselling course – even if it was something I couldn’t do now, it was information for later, I figured. It was in a big stone building tucked away off one of the extravagant gardened squares, and inside a woman stood behind a fold-out table handing out pre-printed name tags. There were about twenty-five of us, segregated into rows of five, and I chose a chair at the back, closest to the aisle.

We were a motley crew. I reckoned I was probably one of the younger ones there, giving the sense that I wasn’t alone in being interested in a career change. I wasn’t sure how that made me feel – sad that counselling wasn’t our first choice, or reassured that maybe it was something you arrived at only with a bit of life experience. Surely that was a good thing in a counsellor. Nobody wants life advice from a spring chicken who hasn’t ever had a bad thing happen to them.

‘Good evening.’

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