Page 59 of Close to You
I head for the stairs to grab the rest of my things, which is when I check the message from Jane.
It’s such a shock that I stumble over the bottom step and clatter my knee into the one above. I have to pull myself up and act like it never happened. A clumsy child with out-of-control limbs. I read the message a second time, but it hasn’t changed, and it’s just as heart-stopping as it was the first time:
I think I saw David.
Twenty-Eight
THE WHY
Two years, five months ago
A squirrel stops momentarily on the path ahead, stopping to look towards David and me. I go for my phone, but the animal quickly decides he or she has better things to do than pose for pictures. The squirrels skips away into the undergrowth with a rustle.
‘You’ll have to be quicker next time,’ David says.
I don’t reply as we continue along the dusty trail, deeper into Little Bush Woods. It’s not rained for weeks and the green along the edges is starting to turn a yellowy-brown.
This isn’t an official country park, but locals from Gradingham use it as such. It’s busy at the weekends, with dog-walkers and parents using the trails as free entertainment for their children.
‘You got in late last night,’ I say.
‘I know – you were out like a light.’
‘How was Estonia?’
‘Wet – but I found a Hank Mobley LP that should be worth a fortune.’
‘I have no idea who that is.’
‘There was an Agincourt, too – and some Led Zep. I brought it back in my hand luggage. Didn’t want to risk them losing it in the hold.’
He stretches and takes my hand. Apart from a groggy coffee this morning, it’s the first time we’ve seen each other in ten days. This has been the pattern since we got married. Instead of being the start of something, that wedding day has increasingly been feeling like the end. I’m not sure if that’s my fault, or his.
We continue along the path, my hand in his.
‘How much can you get for them? I ask.
‘Maybe a couple of thousand for the Mobley if I can find a buyer.’
‘Wow.’
‘What about you?’
‘I dropped a class this week because I signed up two more PT clients. I’m up to 400 followers on Twitter, too.’
He squeezes me hand. ‘That’s great. I’m so proud of you. It’s good that the name change didn’t create a problem.’
‘No…’
We had discussed keeping my name as Morgan Noble, figuring that it would be easier to pitch as someone running their own business. David wasn’t keen and so I went with him. He was insistent that we should be linked through our names. There are battles to pick and this didn’t feel like one of them. Morgan Persephone, which rhymes with ‘knee’ and not ‘phone’, is quite the mouthful. It doesn’t feel like me and perhaps it never will.
David lets go of my hand and we continue along the path slowly as a pair of boys race past us, heading in the other direction. Another couple is walking towards us and we swap a series of smiles and hellos until we’ve gone our separate ways.
The sun is dappling through the leaves, throwing a speckled quilt of rays across the track. I find myself sticking to the shadows, stepping over the patches of light without trying to make it obvious. Like avoiding the cracks in a pavement.
It’s as we’re walking that I realise how nice it is to have David at my side. The doubts have never really gone away, ever since that afternoon in the service station, but it’s true what they say about absence making the heart grow fonder.
That’s not stopped me wondering if his ten days in Eastern Europe has really been ten days in cheap motels. He’s been forwarding me emails of his itinerary under the guise of me being able to check whether his flights and trains are on time. We both know that wasn’t the only reason he was sending on those things.
