Page 62 of The Man Who Didn't Call
I walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Stop it,’ I said quietly. ‘You weren’t to know.’
Jenni just shook her head.
‘Look, Jen, I’m touched that you were willing to stick up for me, and for the team, the way you did. You were polite; you were nice; you handed her a tissue. What more could you have done?’
‘I could have said nothing,’ she said. Her voice was gluey with guilt. ‘I could have just let her be.’
I rubbed her shoulders, staring out of the window. One of my legs started shaking and I sat down next to her.
‘The worst of it is, we’re in the same boat, me and Kaia,’ Jenni said dully. ‘There’s a part of both of us missing. Although she actuallyhada child, Sarah, and he was taken away from her, and . . . Oh my God, can you even imagine?’
When eventually she recovered, I told her I needed to go. ‘I think I need to go to the walk-in clinic. I’m not . . . I’m not functioning very well at the moment, am I?’
‘No,’ Jenni said squarely, and I almost smiled. ‘But how’s the doctor supposed to help? You’re not going to ask for medication, are you?’
I paused. ‘No,’ I said. ‘I just need to . . . talk.’
She frowned. ‘You know you can talk to me, right?’
‘I do. And thank you again,’ I said. ‘For earlier. Your heart was in the right place.’
Jenni sighed. ‘Oh, I know. I’m going to bake her the biggest cake. Out of vegetables, or green powders, or something. It’ll be great.’
A few moments later the door to our building clicked behind me. I felt the muffled punch of a boiling July lunchtime, steadied myself against the doorframe. I wanted to sleep, only I couldn’t stand the silence of Jenni and Javier’s. I wanted to sit in cooled air, only I couldn’t go back to work. I wanted—
I froze.
Eddie. I wanted Eddie. But deep inside my brain something had to be misfiring, because he was there.
There.
Right across Vermont Avenue. Waiting for the traffic lights to change. Looking straight at me.
No!
Yes.
I stood stock still. I stared at him. A long, red Metro bus snaked along between us for what felt like hours. Then it was gone and he was still there. Still looking right at me.
I felt numb as I looked at him. There was a strange quiet, suddenly, out of step with the thunder of traffic passing between us. The lights changed and a white pedestrian light invited me to walk towards him, but I didn’t, because he was walking towards me, and he was still looking right at me. He was wearing shorts, the same shorts he’d been wearing the day we met. The same flip-flops. They smacked across the boiling road, and above them swung the same arms that had wrapped me like a present while I slept.
Eddie was coming. Across the world, across the road.
Until he turned round suddenly and retreated to the other side. The pedestrian sign held up a red hand, counted down three, two, one, and the traffic resumed. Eddie looked at me over his shoulder, then he made off down the street.
By the time the lights changed again and I was able to run across the road, he had disappeared down Lexington Avenue. I stood on the corner of Lexington and Vermont, stunned by the enormity of my feelings. Even now, after weeks of humiliation.
Nothing had changed. I was still in love with Eddie David. Only now I knew – I could no longer deny it – exactly who he was.
I set off towards the walk-in clinic.
The sun was sinking low over the west of the city. Below me, silvery roads ran dead straight to the horizon, lost in trembling haze and smog. Helicopters shared the sky with birds of prey riding thermal currents; hikers beetled up and down the paths carved into the hillside like scars.
I’d been up here two hours. More, probably. Alone on myfavourite bench near the observatory in Griffith Park. The tourists had mostly left, anxious to get away before darkness fell. A few remained, anxious to photograph a perfect sunset. And among them I had sat quietly, trying to forget what the doctor had said earlier, concentrating instead on my week with Eddie. Waiting for the clue to reveal itself to me. I hadn’t found it yet, but I was close. It was amazing what you could find, once you knew what you were looking for.
I’d combed my way through almost to the end and now, as the sun bled all over the unseen Pacific, I was thinking about our final morning together. The brightness outside, the sense of loss as we said goodbye, the excitement at what was to come. He was leaning against the newel post on his stairs. The window was open and I could smell the fusty sweetness of the hawthorn blossom, the clean tang of warming grass. My eyes were closed. He was kissing me, a hand in the small of my back. He rested his nose against mine, eyes closed, and we talked. He gave me a flower, took my numbers, added me on Facebook, gave me Mouse for safekeeping. He said,I think I might have fallen in love with you. Is that too much?
No, I’d said.It’s perfect.And then I left.
