Page 22 of Common People

‘What happened?’ asked Max, feeling his own anxiety and fears lurking beneath the surface rise up, and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck, and his skin broke out with goosebumps.

‘My fiancé, Jake, was coming back from a weekend in Manchester, when he was killed in a car crash on the M1,’ said Bethan between the tears.

‘Oh my God, Bethan, I’m so sorry,’ said Max, reaching a hand across the table and placing it over hers. ‘I can’t believe it.’

‘Jake and I had been together since the first week at uni, and we had only been engaged for a few months. We had just started planning our wedding when he was killed. It broke me, and I started running just after because Jake loved to run, and it helped me feel closer to him somehow. So, when you mentioned about me having a boyfriend, on almost the one-yearanniversary of his death, I lost it. I’m sorry, Max, it really wasn’t about you.’

‘I’m sorry too,’ Max replied, and he was holding her hand, and he felt a few tears slip out and down his face too. People nearby must have been thinking they were breaking-up or something, because they were both in floods, holding hands across the table, but Max didn’t care. He couldn’t believe that she had lost the love of her life in a car crash on the M1, just like he had lost his parents six months before. It was no wonder she had freaked out when he mentioned a boyfriend so close to the anniversary of his death. It was no wonder she cried when he had told her about his parents. They had both lost important people to them, people they loved, in car crashes. It felt impossible, but perhaps they had ended up at Common People for a reason. Max wasn’t sure he believed in fate, but it was hard to ignore that they had become friends when perhaps they needed someone in their lives who understood better than anyone what they were going through.

Max and Bethan sat at that table, finishing their drinks, before they began the slow walk towards the tube station together. They could get the same tube home, and it gave them a chance to keep talking. Bethan explained how she hadn’t told anyone at run club about Jake because she didn’t want to be the girl with a dead fiancé. She only told certain people in her life because it was a way of protecting herself. Max explained how he didn’t tell people because he still found it so hard to talk about, and because he didn’t want people to know he was so broken inside. They took the tube all the way to Balham, where Bethan lived and he walked her back to her flat. They stood outside, the noise of traffic passing them, both in a daze at what had just happened.

‘Thanks for telling me about your parents,’ said Bethan.

‘And you about Jake.’

‘I’m probably not going to tell anyone else just yet. I just, I know everyone will be great about it, and they’ll try and help and offer words of encouragement, but I like going there where no-one knows about Jake. I’m just a girl who works atThe British Museum, who likes to run.’

‘Your secret is safe with me.’

‘And Max, I’m sorry if I was mean to you before. It really wasn’t about you.’

‘I’m just glad we’re OK now.’

Bethan paused for a moment, before she looked at Max with a different sort of expression on her face. One that he definitely hadn’t seen before.

‘The thing is, Max, is that I also felt a spark of attraction with you that I haven’t felt for such a long time, and it scared me. The idea of being with someone else after Jake, it feels terrifying and wrong, like I’m moving on from him. I saw the way you looked at me, I felt it too, and with the anniversary of his death, I just couldn’t be around you. I’m sorry. I hope you understand.’

‘It’s fine,’ said Max, stepping a little closer to her. His cheeks had already reddened with the knowledge that she felt a spark between them, which delighted him and made him happy, but clearly nothing was going to happen. Bethan was nowhere near ready. ‘I completely understand.’

‘So, just friends because I’d really like that?’

Max smiled at her. ‘Friends.’

Bethan returned his smile, they hugged, and Max couldn’t help but feel a little drop of sadness while he felt her body in his arms. He was happy to just be her friend, it was infinitely better than nothing, but there was a part of him that longed for more. He didn’t know if he was even ready for a proper relationship with all the bells and whistles, but he also couldn’t control the feelings he had for Bethan.

After they had said goodbye, Max walked home, in shock at how the evening had unfolded. He had gone there, hoping that she would hear him out, but he couldn’t have imagined how her story and heartbreak would overlap with his to such a degree. He would just have to make peace with the fact that she wasn’t ready for a relationship, and probably wouldn’t be for quite some time. In the meantime, they could remain friends and perhaps help each other to move on. It did make his rather fortuitous discovery of Common People, feel even more pivotal in his life. Since he had started, he had made new friends, decided to go into business with Robbie, and now he had discovered that Bethan had lost someone in a car crash too.

Life often felt to Max, especially after the accident, like this random, meaningless place where we all existed without a plan, where events happened, births, deaths, but all of it was haphazard, accidental. However, run club felt like this fixed, solid thing, where things did make sense, where a community of people gathered, and gave each other meaning. Now he had Bethan in his life, and it felt like she had been put there for a reason. Maybe there was a plan, after all.

Memories and dreams

Max had arranged to meet the estate agent at the house, and after his last attempt at putting it on the market, he was worried it was going to be another Gary Lewis disaster. He was in a different headspace than the last time he had decided to sell, but still, he hoped they weren’t the same sort of money-driven sales person like Gary. He wanted to sell his parents’ house, but he wanted to do it the right way. He needed someone who respected the house, cared about what it meant to him, and the history within it. He didn’t know if that was even possible, but as he heard the door knocker, and walked towards the front door, he hoped. He had spoken to the woman on the phone, and she had seemed nice, thoughtful, and she sounded like she cared about what he was saying to her.

Max opened the door, and stood there was a woman, early thirties in a smart blue dress, black shoes, and long auburn hair. She had on a pair of green-framed glasses, and had a cool, creative vibe that Max instantly warmed to. Working at the BBC, Max had spent a great deal of time in the company of people just like that. Clearly fashion and aesthetics were important to her, which was a good sign, he thought.

‘Hello, Max, I’m Tanya,’ she said in a warm, friendly tone, smiling a bright smile with a set of straight, white teeth.

‘Hi, Tanya, come in,’ replied Max, who stood to one side to let her in, and when she walked past him, he noticed a lovely perfume with hints of citrus, something sweet and a warm amber. ‘Come through. Tea? Coffee?’

‘I’d love a cup of tea,’ she said, following him into the kitchen. ‘This is lovely.’

‘Thank you,’ said Max, flicking the switch on the kettle. ‘It was my parents’ house. I grew up here.’

‘Right,’ replied Tanya, as Max got two mugs, and plopped two tea bags inside. ‘And you said your parents passed away. I’m so sorry to hear that.’

Max turned to look at her. ‘Thanks. It’s been difficult, and I know it’s crazy that I kept the house all this time, but I just couldn’t bear to get rid of it.’

‘I don’t think it’s crazy at all. My parents still live in Enfield, in the house I grew up in, and I have no idea what I will do with it when they go. I’m an only child.’