Page 25 of One Night With You

I help clear away our dirty mugs and Harry fiddles with his phone whilst JP naps. In the kitchen William says to me: ‘I know you probably won’t actually be able to find her, but we have to try, you know? For Gramps. Do you see the way he talks about her? I just want him to feel some sort of hope. I think it will help him live longer, and God knows I need him around for as long as possible. He’s been more of a dad to me than my dad ever has, that’s for sure.’

‘You’re kind to help him,’ I say. ‘It’s really sweet. We’ll do what we can.’

‘Done it!’ calls Harry from the living room. We wander back in to ask what, exactly, he’s done.

‘I’ve set up the account,’ he says, proudly. ‘And guess what I’ve called it?’

I shrug, waiting for the answer.

‘Finding JP’s Girl,’ he says. ‘I’ve put your fundraising link in the bio, too. Now first things first, JP – wake up! We need a photo with you!’

‘I’m awake,’ says JP, the croakiness to his voice making it obvious he’s just been woken up. ‘I was just resting my eyes.’

‘Come here,’ says Harry. ‘Let’s get a selfie altogether, then you on your own too.’

We take our photograph, upload it with a caption about what we’re about to do, tag everyone we can think of in the comments and then? We drink our tea and wait.

16

Nic

I don’t think about Ruby much. I mean – obviously I don’tobsess. Butoccasionallythat night crosses my mind. And Isometimesthink,I wish we could have spent more time together.Intermittentlymy finger lingers over the follow button on her social media, but I never hit it. I’m not even bothered that earlier she featured a tall, hairy, bearded man in a post. He’s not tagged so I don’t know who he is. I haven’t thought about it all day. Fair play if she was just fobbing me off with that year-off blokes stuff – I would have been happy to call a spade a spade though. Or maybe she changed her mind. Or maybe they’re just friends. It’s none of my business, is it? Our time together was, well,mind-blowing, buthonestlyI don’t carethatmuch.

However …

On the three – maybe four, or twenty – times she’s crossed my mind, no big deal, I think how I could have gone back to Maple Avenue for pizza that night and discovered that shewasn’t kind or fun. I could have gotten close enough to understand she didn’t believe in deodorant or made other people the butt of her jokes or farted, loudly and unapologetically.

But sheiskind and fun. The love between her and Jackson and Candice was palpable, and seeing somebody’s capacity for caring about the people they love was an unexpected turn-on. She’s fundamentally good, and coupled with those legs … Fine, okay,of courseI think about her. I’ve got eyes and a beating heart, don’t I? I’m only a human man with blood in my loins. I’d have to be dead for her not to have left an impression. We fit together like two human jigsaw pieces, for pity’s sake.

She’d said it was amazing preciselybecauseit was for one night only. Knowing we’d never see each other again made it safe to be who we were, because we weren’t trying to show off or impress each other. There was nothing to lose. I agreed with her at the time, out loud at least – secretly though it felt like lightning striking.

When we’d crept into the kitchen to make hot chocolate at 6 a.m., after we’d had sex for a third, even better time – the time without the condom, like the little STI-riddled idiots we are – she wore my T-shirt. It’s such a truism: a woman in a man’s clothes, half naked, looking the best you’ve seen her. But as she concentrated, heaping powder into the pan, finding a wooden spoon to stir it with, keeping the heat low so the milk didn’t burn, I just remember looking at her and thinkingI think it might be you.

And the way she looked back at me, I swear she was thinking the same. Surely she doesn’t think a spark like that happens all the time. It’s rare. Once-in-a-lifetime rare, I’m sure of it.

Anyway, like I said … I hardly think of her at all.

By the end of the day, I’ve come to the conclusion that if Rubyissleeping with that hairy bloke from her post earlier she should have all the facts. And so once I’ve left the office and I’m walking down Fleet Street towards Bank station, on my way to Dodgeball, I text her. I’m awash in a sea of suits and heels and serious-looking people trickling out of Barclays and CIB, everyone with their head down and on their phone like I am. I used to be embarrassed to work in finance – all that stuff about what wankers we are – but if I’m going to work in the City, I’m proud it’s for Hoare’s. All that history, and the way historically they’ve supported the arts … it’s not a bad gig. I wouldn’t say I’ve made friends, but my colleagues are nice enough. Very proper. Sober, is probably the best word.

I type and walk at the same time, deciding to be direct and simple, even though reaching out to her makes me inexplicably nervous. It’s not even telling her to go to the GUM clinic, really – I can own that – it’s the heart-thumping that comes with having an excuse to talk to her at all.

I decide I have to make it a question, in case she doesn’t remember me, so I type:Hi – this is Nic, from your last night in London?

Not that she must hook up with randoms all the time, but you know. She had a lot on, didn’t she? The move, saying goodbye – all of that.

Oh my God, if she replies saying, ‘Who?’ I will scream. Scream! Bury me at sea, let the current carry my body.

Also even if she was hooking up with randoms all the time, that’s obviously fine. No slut-shaming here. Not that she’s a slut. Oh God.Focus, Nic.

I hope it’s okay that Jackson passed on your number,I add, thinking that explaining it was via Jackson means she knowshowI got it. That it’s Jackson-sanctioned.

Just need to give you a quick call, if you can let me know when’s good?

I REFUSE to tell her in a text … Now, how the hell to sign off? I labour for ages over whether to put on a kiss or not. Is it too familiar? Will it lull her into a false sense of security? Give her the wrong impression about why I need to call?

Eventually, I settle on:Thanks.

I round the corner and damn near have a heart attack when my phone bleats with the sound of a text and her name flashes up.

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