Page 28 of The Notecard
‘Riiiight.’
‘I’d also say that she’s the loveliest, kindest, smartest person I know, and she deserves the best. I mean, she gives money to charity boxes every time we pass one and not just coppers either, but pound coins. She picks up after me all the time and doesn’t even mention it. I literally leave my clothes on the bathroom floor every time I take a shower, and she just washes them for me. Knickers, bras, all washed and put away like it’s not even a big deal.’
‘Wow.’
‘Yeah, Meg is seriously the best person ever, but James broke her heart, and now she needs to go away. She said that men are literally the last thing on her mind.’
‘Got it. Thanks. Last thing on her mind.’
I’m about to walk back into my flat.
‘Are you going to leave the notecard?’
I pause for a moment.
‘No, no, it’s okay.’
‘Right, no worries. I’m going to take out the recycling before I forget why I’m here and go back inside with it. I’ve done that before. Seriously, you think I’m joking, but I’m not. I’m totally not,’ says Keri, before she walks off down the stairs.
I go back into my flat and slump down on the sofa. So that’s it. Meg is wonderful, lovely, kind, smart, and cleans up after Keri like she’s her child, but she’s heartbroken and going travelling for six months. I thought we had a connection. I thought that perhaps we had something special. That’s another problem I face. I’m awful at knowing when girls like me. There have been girls in the past who apparently thought I was ‘a bit of alright’ (Rob’s words, not mine) and I had no idea. There have been girls I have liked so much it hurt to think about them, but I was so convinced they didn’t like me that I did nothing. I felt something for Meg, but it was obviously just me making up something that wasn’t there. Creating a reality to suit my version of it.
I put the notecard on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. I have no plans tonight. Rob is busy making babies. Mum is on a date with Michael. Meg is heartbroken and needs space. I don’t know what to do with myself. Dotty is probably free for a chat. Perhaps she can give me some advice. Although after hearing her advice to Mum (nothing south of the river), maybe I’ll give it a miss. Instead I decide to go for a run. At least that’s something I can control. A run to clear my head. It is a shame about Meg. I suppose we just weren’t meant to be.
But before I get ready, a thought pops into my head. I wonder what Molly’s doing. I know I shouldn’t call her after the way things ended between us. It was weird and clunky, and she was so angry with me. I didn’t think she was The One, but that was months ago. Maybe I was being too fussy. So what if she laughed too loudly, would tell me to change clothes before we went out because what I was wearing ‘wasn’t smart enough’ and called me Nicky. She had good qualities too. She was funny, we had great sex, and she was career minded. It was one of the reasons we worked so well because she was always working, and so the time we had, squashed together when we could find a few hours for each other, was intense. Maybe I should give her another go. Perhaps we just needed more time. I pick up my mobile from the coffee table. I find her in my contacts and press to dial. It rings for a few moments, and then she answers.
‘Molly, hi, it’s Nick.’
‘Nicky,’ she says, sounding shocked but not unhappy. She’s out somewhere. A pub, maybe. She’s talking loudly. ‘I didn’t think I’d hear from you again after Portobello.’
‘I know, I’m sorry about that.’
‘You should be sorry.’
‘I am. I was wondering if you fancied a drink.’
‘I’m already at the pub. I have a drink.’
‘Maybe I could join you?’
As I say it, I’m not sure if it’s a good idea or not. But maybe it’s time to stop being so clinical and take a chance. See what happens when I throw caution to the wind. And it’s nice talking to Molly. It’s easy. Comfortable. I’m not nervous. She isn’t Meg.
‘I’ll text you the dets,’ says Molly because she’s the sort of person who says ‘dets’ instead of ‘details’. ‘But, Nicky, seriously, don’t fuck me around this time.’
‘I won’t. Promise.’
We say goodbye and I get ready to go out. Out to meet my ex-girlfriend, Molly.
Part Three: May
Meg
Isaw James last night. I was out with some friends from work having a drink and there he was. Like a ghost. I haven’t seen him since we met up for a coffee in Soho. The final handover of goods. He gave me back a book (My Legendary Girlfriend by Mike Gayle - sadly ironic) and a pile of post that had come to the flat. I gave him a t-shirt (Fat Willy’s Surf Shack). The t-shirt I used to sleep in. He told me to keep it. Memories. A long weekend in Cornwall. A small holiday flat in Newquay. Fish and chips. Wine. Walks on the beach. James bought the t-shirt from a shop in town. I said I didn’t want it anymore. It was awkward. James bought me out of my share of the flat and he gave me some paperwork to sign. He wanted to keep it. It was all very amicable. A coffee and then we said goodbye. We hugged one last time. I cried when he left, walking through the damp streets of Soho, tears in my eyes and a pain in my heart that hasn’t completely gone away. That was it after seven years. But seeing him again last night took my breath away. I felt sick and had to sit down. I left the bar soon after. Bustling my way to the door and outside. I took in a deep lungful of air. I thought I was going to be sick.
He was with another girl. It wasn’t Clara. She was pretty. Brunette hair. Nice dress. I watched them for a moment. The girl who had the life I was supposed to have. Was he always planning an escape from me? I was in it for the long haul, but perhaps he wasn’t. Since the breakup, I’ve thought long and hard about our relationship. Were there any signs that things had gone stale? That James was looking elsewhere? I’ve agonised over it, and I can honestly say that I didn’t see it coming. James wasn’t pulling away from me. Our sex life wasn’t awful. As far as I could see there were no clues to his impending infidelity. I think that’s a big part of why it’s so hard because it feels needless. There wasn’t a reason for it. Perhaps after seven years just his desire to fuck someone else was strong enough.
James looked different last night. He had lost a bit of weight and it looked like he’d been going to the gym. Something he hadn’t done in seven years with me. He looked good. I cried on the way home. Sitting on the tube, trying my best to keep it together, while other passengers tried to ignore the fact I was obviously upset. Classic London. I have no idea why it affected me so much. It isn’t like I want him back or even still love him. But it made me sad seeing him again. It made me realise that life has moved on. That he’s moved on. The idea that he’s this huge thing in my life is slowly ebbing away. Meg and James. It means nothing now.
Seeing him brought everything back. All the moments that led up to The Incident. To what happened. The moment that made me realise I wasn’t okay. I had a mini breakdown. I should probably have gone to see someone, but for one reason or another, I didn’t. Excuses wrapped up in excuses. Instead I spent a week in bed with Keri taking care of me. I emerged a week later like a shit butterfly and just got on with things. But I had changed. No-one else knows about it. Just me and Keri. She made excuses to people. Laura, Mum, Dad, and she rang work for me. I was sick. I had lost my voice. I just needed to rest. Probably the flu. I hope she gets better soon. The truth was, I was mentally exhausted. I collapsed. I couldn’t go on. After the anger at James, and then the inevitable talking, and shouting, and sorting out the details, there was the lull. The moment after the final handover of goods when life went back to normal. A tube journey to work. Sweat dripping down my face and onto my neck. A feeling deep within me that I wasn’t okay. Anxiety crept through me like a stealth ninja. A pain in my chest. I couldn’t handle it. Luckily Keri was there. She raced across London to get me. To pick me up and take me home. You don’t always know when it’s going to happen to you. The moment when life becomes too much, and you literally fall down, shaking and shivering outside of your office. You can’t go in. You can’t face it. So you walk to a nearby bench, crying, barely able to talk. You call your best friend. Your hands are shaking. People are looking at you, but no-one wants to check on you because you look crazy. Your best friend drops everything and comes and gets you. They look after you. Make you tea and toast. Tuck you into bed and check on you twenty times a day. I was depressed. I was unsure of who I was. Keri saved me. She’s always been there for me. Well, until today.
