Page 29 of Common People

‘I’m trying, and you know, I think about moving back to Ireland at some point.’

‘Robbie always talks about moving back to Scotland, too. Although I think he’s got used to the London weather, I’m not sure he could hack the harsh Scottish climate anymore.’

Eve laughed. ‘I won’t tell him you think he’s too soft for Scotland.’

‘Thanks. You know, I really do hope things work out with you and Robbie. He’s always been a bit of a drifter, didn’t really have a plan for his life, but now with the sandwich shop, and maybe with you, he can start really building something.’

‘You sound like you want this for him, more than he does.’

‘I just want him to be happy, and from what you told me, I think you deserve your slice of happiness too.’

‘I’m not sure what I deserve,’ said Eve, who started jogging again. ‘But I wouldn’t mind a decent feckin’ boyfriend for a start. It’s the one thing I hate about London—’

‘You mean apart from the sky-high rent, the cost of public transport, and that it now requires a small mortgage to buy a round of drinks?’

‘Apart from those obvious ones. No, it’s feeling lonely. Growing up in Ireland, surrounded by friends, and a vast Catholic family, I never once felt lonely. If anything, it was the opposite, and I craved some peace and quiet from time to time, but in London, if you aren’t careful, you can feel like you’re on your own. It’s one of the reasons I joined the run club, to have people, a community, and it’s a good craic. I’m grand on my own, Max, I am, but having a decent boyfriend would be a nice change of pace.’

Max and Eve started running a little bit faster, and so they stopped talking because Max still wasn’t able to hold a conversation while running. With just five weeks until the Clapham Half, he still hadn’t decided if he was going to run it or not. With every passing week, he was getting fitter and stronger, and he had even started going for runs outside of run club. When Bethan had told Max about how she had taken up running after losing Jake, and how much it had helped her, he began to understand how it could help him too. He had listened to Hope’s story of how running had saved her life, and he watched Joe trudging around the common, trying to stop himself from dying like his father before him. Charlie ran to stop himself from spiralling back towards drugs and a life that had almost taken his, while Anita did it to help with the grief of losing her husband. Running was the fix to all their problems, and it made him even more eager to finally tell them all about his parents. With things between him and Bethan resolved and better than ever, it felt like the right time. They were all meeting at the sandwich shop at the weekend to help paint, so perhaps the perfect time to get everything out in the open. They had all beenso open and honest with him, perhaps it was time he repaid the favour.

Max and Eve jogged their 5k together, and by the end of it, Max was feeling for perhaps the first time, not completely exhausted. He hadn’t pushed himself too much, but he had run a respectable time with Eve, and he wasn’t completely gassed at the end of it. As they always did, the whole group got together at the end for a warm down.

‘Today was my best time yet,’ said Charlie, while doing a hamstring stretch. ‘Twenty minutes, and four seconds.’

‘So close to a sub twenty, mate,’ said Joe.

‘I’ll close out the quarter by hitting my target,’ replied Charlie. ‘No worries about that.’

‘Is everyone still up for painting at the weekend?’ Max asked the group, as they slowly began collecting their things to leave. Everyone said they were, and couldn’t wait to see the shop and try Robbie’s sandwiches. Joe was going to be late, as one of his girls had a netball match and the other had swimming, but they would all be there. Bethan had to dash off after run club because she was meeting some old university friends for dinner, so Max walked out with Eve.

‘What are you doing tonight? Popping over to ours?’ asked Max.

‘Not tonight. I think me and yer man both need an early night. Plus, I’m hosting an event at the library in Peckham tomorrow morning. I’ve got to be there by nine, so I can’t be out ‘til the wee hours again.’

‘An event?’

‘It’s a Q&A about the new book.’

‘Is it going well?’

‘The book? Yeah, it’s going great, actually. Really good sales. The publishers are happy, which is always the most important thing.’

‘Good for you,’ replied Max, before they said goodnight. Eve had to get the bus back to Brixton, and so Max walked home alone. He had decided that he was going to tell everyone at Common People about his parents over paint and sandwiches. He had heard everyone else's stories about their lives; it was time they all knew about his.

To getting there

It had been a long day at work, and Max was heading out of Broadcasting House. He had come in early for a meeting about a commission for a new television series, and had worked through most of his lunch, eating a salad at his desk, but it was finally time to head home. Work had been one of the only constants in his life since the accident, and at times it had been difficult when he hadn’t been in the right headspace, or when he was hung-over for days on end, but as he was coming out of the other end of grief, he appreciated it more than ever. He had friends there, a supportive team of people around him, and he enjoyed the work itself. It gave him meaning. As he said goodnight to a few fellow employees, and began the walk out onto Langham Street towards Oxford Circus, Max felt a genuine contentment. His life that had been turned upside down, was finally almost back on an even keel again.

He walked along Langham Place onto Regents Street towards the tube, and he had just passed Blank Street Coffee, someone left, and he moved around them, and that’s when he stopped dead in his tracks. His heart was suddenly in his mouth because he couldn’t believe who it was. His world spun on its axis again.

‘Max,’ said Emma. He hadn’t seen her since a week after she had broken up with him via voicemail. The day she had come to his flat, and they’d had a long depressingly solemn chat over tea and toast, and she had finally left him for good, taking a small bag of things with her.

‘Emma,’ said an incredulous Max. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m good,’ she replied with a tentative smile.

She looked beautiful in a smart summer dress, and she’d had her hair cut differently, a little shorter with highlights, which suited her. She looked almost the same as she had, but somehow different too. Maybe it was just the pain and agony that was missing from her face from the last time they had seen each other. The strain of having to deal with his grief was gone, and she looked lighter, happier. She looked more like the Emma he had fallen in love with such a long time ago. They stood in front of each other for a moment, neither sure what to say next. It was such an unexpected meeting, and it had clearly taken them both by surprise. London was an enormous city with a population of nine million people, what were the chances he would bump into his ex-girlfriend outside BlankStreetCoffee on Regent’s Street? Caught in the moment, Max made a snap decision.

‘Do you fancy getting a drink or something? If you have time.’