Page 25 of The Love of Our Lives
I’m reaching up to knock, when the door swings open and Adam appears on the other side with his backpack on, like he’s going somewhere.
‘Oh, hello again,’ he says, his expression a mixture of surprise, and something possibly bordering on pleasure.
‘Hello,’ I say, trying to hold my breath steady.
A silence passes between us as he looks at me expectantly.
‘I just wanted to say,’ I start finally, ‘that I’m really sorry about the other night, leaving the show like I did. It wasn’t cool of me, but I think I got a bit panicked. I’m just . . . dealing with a lot right now.’
For a moment, I think he might shut the door in my face but then he gives me that easy lopsided smile again and my stomach somersaults.
‘Apology accepted,’ he says, ‘and in fairness to you, you did say you were still working some stuff out. So, take all the time you need, Emily, and if you do ever need to talk to anyone, then I’m right here. Literally,’ he says, thumbing back behind him into the warm-looking flat.
‘Thank you,’ I say, relieved, then add, ‘for not thinking I’m a total arse.’
He looks at me softly. ‘That’s the last thing I think, Emily. I just like getting to know you is all. I’d like to get to know you more, even if it’s as friends.’
‘Friends,’ I repeat after a moment. ‘I think that could work.’
‘Well, that’s great to hear,’ he says, a genuine smile on his face. ‘Oh, I got this out of my cupboard for you, in case we happened to run into each other again.’
Pulling something orange from his pocket, he passes it to me, our fingers grazing as he does. It’s a headband of some sort. ‘I saw you running out there in the rain,’ he says, ‘and I have this, which I’ve never worn, so I thought maybe you could use it on your next run. Or if you ever need to bolt out of a show again . . .’
I let out a laugh, even as I raise my eyebrows in mock annoyance.
‘I’m not sure whether to say thank you,’ I say, ‘or throw it back at you.’
He grins, those green eyes dancing. ‘It’s good to see you smiling again.’
A pause.
‘Well, I’d better get off to the workshop,’ he says. ‘I’ll see you around, Emily.’
Locking the door behind him, he heads down the stairs, and I can feel something rising up in me; words burbling at the surface. I walk across to the banister.
‘Adam,’ I call over the top, and he looks up sharply from the landing below.
I take a breath in. ‘I don’t suppose you fancy a walk with me later?’
He doesn’t answer for a moment and my breath catches. Maybe he didn’t really mean any of that.
Maybe it was all just hot air?
But then he smiles up at me. ‘Yeah,’ he says, ‘I think that might work. Early evening OK?’
‘Early evening is great.’
He grins and a moment later he’s gone, leaving me standing on the landing with a tingling down my back and a feeling that perhaps I don’t want to leave this life quite yet.
Later that afternoon, I head into the little express shop where I left the disposable camera. I’m curious about what might be on it and why it hasn’t been developed yet. With Emily’s one luxury item being a camera in the flat, I just don’t quite understand why she would have a disposable. Still, it’s the only stone left unturned as far as I can see.
Once I’ve paid for the photos, I walk quickly out the door and open the packet on the street outside. Taking out the first one, sunlight bounces off the filmy material, but I still see him – a sandy-haired man. He’s handsome in that kind of chiselled jawline, film-star way, and he’s smiling at the camera from across the table in some hot-looking piazza. The next one is a selfie of him and Emily kissing somewhere, her hair tangled into his jacket, his hand holding her cheek, and all of the ones after are similar, just photo after photo of him, or her, or the two of them together, clearly besotted.
Looking at the last one of them in an elevator, the strangest feeling runs through me.
Have I met him before?
I’m still staring down at the photo when I hear a ringing sound. I look around at the other pedestrians, initially thinking it must be one of them, before realising the sound is actually coming from me.
