Page 39 of Is She Really Going Out with Him?
“Why do you want to know this?” he asks with a sigh.
“I’m innately nosy.”
“Fine. Admit you like the wine, and I’ll tell you everything.”
“It’s exquisite. It’s the best wine I’ve had in years, my tongue is dancing in delight.”
Now when he smiles it’s a real smile, not a curated attempt to charm. He looks like a boy who just bowled his first wicket, and his joy makes me ache with an unexpected pleasure.
“I’ll need to tell you some backstory first, about my family.”
“I love a bit of backstory,” I say, knitting my hands beneath my chin.
“I have three brothers. There’s George, Harry, me, then Simon, the youngest. When Simon was seventeen, he was involved in a bad car accident. His friend was driving, a guy who’d passed his test two days before.” Will’s jaw tenses, and he grips his bottom lip between his teeth. “This was ten years ago. My brother is paraplegic now; mentally, he’s not who he was before.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I say, my heart in my mouth. I don’t know what I was expecting him to tell me, but it wasn’t this.
“My mother died when I was eight, so it’s just me, Dad, and my brothers.”
“That must have been so difficult,” I say, leaning further across the table, feeling terrible for ever having teased Will, for making assumptions about his life, his background.
“We grew up in this incredible house on the Circus. It’s worth a bit now, but it wasn’t when my great-grandfather bought it. We all love that house, it’s full of memories of our mother, her taste, her things, but it’s a historical building, not the easiest to adapt for a wheelchair.” He takes a breath, fiddling with the stem of his wineglass. “When we realized Simon wasn’t going to get any better, that this was how his life was going to be, we knewDad wasn’t up to looking after him alone, not on top of keeping up that house. He has some help, but my brothers and I agreed, if we wanted to keep the family home, one of us would always need to be in Bath to support them.”
Will rubs his eyes. Then he puts his glasses back on. “I was studying at Bath uni at the time, so I was there anyway. We agreed I’d stay until I was twenty-four, then Harry would have finished his MA in Oxford and could come back. Four-year rotations, that was the idea.” Will takes a prawn cracker and snaps it in half. “Only Harry got selected to play rugby professionally. It’s all he ever wanted. I wasn’t going to ask him to give that up.”
“So you stayed?” I ask.
“I stayed. George was living in Switzerland. He said, ‘Give me six months, I’ll look for a job in the West Country.’ But then I met Maeve.” He pauses, gives me a look, as though I must know the rest. “She’d just started a postgrad at the university. I knew George wasn’t ready to leave Switzerland; he was about to get promoted. And now I only wanted to be where Maeve was. I had a decent job atTeen Girl.” He pulls a face. “I wasn’t in a rush to go anywhere. Dad agreed to convert the top floor into a flat for me and Maeve. It was great, for a while.”
“What happened?” I ask, leaning further toward him.
“Things didn’t work out,” he says, rubbing a hand across his lips, and I can see I’m not going to get the whole story. “I was naïve to plan my life around her. It was the first time I’d been in love. Well, the kind of love that makes you want to change all your plans.” Will frowns, as though he thinks himself a fool. I feel an urge to reach across the table and squeeze his hand, to tell him he isn’t the first person to do that and he certainly won’t be the last, but then our food arrives, so we pause to thank the waiter. Then I squeeze a piece of lime over my noodles as I wait for him to go on.
“By this point, George is married to his Swiss girlfriend, Lena. She’s pregnant, but there are complications, they’reconsulting with a specialist. It’s not a good time for them to move. Harry says he’ll quit rugby but…” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t ask him to do that just because I had itchy feet and a broken heart.”
“That sounds tough,” I say, picking up my fork. Our food smells delicious and we pause our conversation to start eating.
After finishing his mouthful, Will says, “I had all these ambitions, jobs I wanted to apply for, places I wanted to live. All the exciting stuff seemed to be happening somewhere else, to somebody else.”
“Did you tell your dad you felt that way?” I ask.
“No. I always told him I was happy in Bath, loved living with him and Simon, which I do,I do. Simon and I, we’re incredibly close. But…Bath is a city that feels like a town that acts like a village, you know?”
“I know,” I say, and I do.
“I can’t feel sorry for myself.” He twists the stem of his wineglass on the table. “Bath is my home. I’ll probably end up back here eventually, but right now I feel like a bird who’s had its wings clipped. I never got to fly the nest.” He looks up from his wineglass, perhaps weighing how much to tell me. “Now things have changed again. George and Lena are moving here with their family. Harry’s coming back too. He’s got a job coaching Bath under-fifteens.” Will pauses, lifting his gaze to mine. “I’m finally free to go wherever I want.”
“So you’re leaving?” I ask, feeling a tug of disappointment that makes no sense. Professionally, it would be better for me if Will left; I’m less likely to be made redundant.
“I don’t know.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I feel guilty even thinking about it. Simon is my best friend, he relies on me. He would be devastated if I moved away.”
“That can’t be the only reason you stay,” I tell him.
“I’ve started asking around, so we’ll see.” Will looks up at me beneath lowered lashes. “That’s why I’m trying to diversify myportfolio. My experience is too narrow, my network too small.” He pauses, looking worried. “I’m telling you this in confidence, Appleby.”
“What’s said in Hay stays in Hay,” I say, zipping an imaginary zipper across my lips.
“You’ll be happy, you’ll have all the rides in the playground to yourself again,” he says, raising his glass in the air as though making a toast.
