Page 33 of Common People

Emma had chosen a popular Italian restaurant in Fitzrovia, not too far from Broadcasting House, and he met her outside at just after six o’clock. She looked stunning in a dress, her hair was styled differently than the last time he’d seen her, and she was wearing more make-up and some extra spritzes of perfume. Clearly, she had made an effort for their definitely-not-a-date. Max had gone with a slightly smarter than usual outfit, with a pair of navy chinos and a smart Oxford shirt with a pale blue stripe. Whether either of them thought that this was a date was open to debate, but both of them had dressed with the intentions that it probably was.

‘You look lovely,’ said Max, giving her a peck on the cheek.

‘You don’t scrub up too badly yourself, Mr Lawson,’ replied Emma with a cheeky smile.

‘Why thank you, Miss Wilson.’

‘It’s Ms, actually.’

‘I do apologise, Ms Wilson,’ said Max and they both laughed at themselves, before he opened the door for her, and they walked into the restaurant together.

As soon as they sat at their table, opening menus, the conversation was quick and easy. They ordered drinks, a burrata starter, and the restaurant was alive with noise andconversations. Other couples sat nearby, some obviously in the early stages of dating, while others had clearly been together for a while. The body language at each table told a story. The ones nearest to them were young, early twenties, and it was either a first or maybe a second date. They were both sitting upright, maintaining eye contact, and talking animatedly. They’d ordered their own food, nothing to share because they weren’t that comfortable with each other yet. At another table were a couple in their early thirties, both obviously straight from work, and they were sitting back in their chairs, sharing their food, both of them tucking in and not speaking as much. The angle of their bodies, the eye contact, and the way they seemed so at ease being together, as if the longish silences were perfectly natural, and sharing food was their thing. They’d already had the same conversations over and over again, the routines were deeply ingrained in them, and despite still being young in the grand scheme of things, their relationship was old and solid. It was like the jumper you brought out every winter, and wore over and over again because it was the most comfortable thing you owned.

Max wondered what people would make of their relationship and their body language. It was confusing to him, and so therefore he imagined, confusing to others too. They were comfortable with each other like the couple who had been going out for years, and yet there was a newness about them, an effervescent energy that you only had at the beginning of something fresh. It was that duality of meaning which had Max scratching his own head, trying to work out what they were doing. Was it the beginning of something new, or the end of something old?

‘So, the fancy new job, how’s it going?’ asked Max.

The starter had been delivered and then eaten, and they were waiting on their mains. Max had gone for a pizza whileEmma had chosen pasta. It wasn’t said out loud, but the implication was that they would share. They were the couple who had been dating for years.

‘Awesome,’ replied Emma, taking a sip of her wine. ‘I get to fuse my two specialist subjects, fitness and social media into one perfect job. I’ve never been happier at work. What about you? How's The Beeb treating you?’

‘The Beeb is treating me well. I’m slowly getting more responsibility, and after everything that happened, I’m trying to repay the faith and support they gave me. They could easily have fired me during the worst times, but instead they offered help and let me come to work when I wasn’t really fit for it. They even offered counselling.’

‘Did you go?’

‘I tried, but it wasn’t for me. The point is, they’ve been really good to me, and I feel like I owe them something.’

‘I’m glad things are going well, Max. Truly. After we broke up, I was so worried about you. I’ve never told you this before, and I’m not sure if Robbie did because I asked him not to, but we kept in touch for months. I would text him, and he would tell me how you were doing.’

‘What? I had no idea. He never said.’

‘He was really worried about you. We both were.’

Max couldn’t believe that Emma and Robbie had kept in touch for months, just to keep an eye on him. It showed him just how much she had loved him, and how much she cared. He knew that Robbie was a good friend, and he hadn’t once shared that with him, and they shared pretty much everything.

‘Then, I suppose, thank you for caring.’

‘I loved you, Max,’ said Emma, and for the first time, he saw it in her eyes. The passion and the love that he used to see when they were together was still there. She reached a hand across the table, placing it softly over his. ‘I’ve always loved you, and thatjust didn’t go away because of what happened after your parents’ died. Breaking up with you was the hardest thing I ever had to do, but I felt like I had no choice. I didn’t want to do it, spent months regretting it and second-guessing myself, but ultimately I did it because I loved you. Because I wanted you to be happy again, and I felt like it wasn’t going to happen with me in your life. I had become a crutch, something you knew would always be there to prop you up, and so I felt that without me, you might actually begin the process of moving on.’

A tear leaked out of one of her eyes before she quickly wiped it away. Max felt emotional himself because that wasn’t something that Emma had ever shared with him before. This was new information, and hearing it now, so long after the event, he had perspective and he could see just what she had done for him. He wasn’t just grateful for her, but he felt the love that was still there between them.

‘Oh, Em.’

‘And while I’m being honest and open about everything, I have a confession to make. I didn’t bump into you by accident last week. I’m sorry, Max, but I wanted to see you again. I needed to know if we still had something, and from what I can see, we definitely do. I never stopped loving you. I’m still in love with you, and I hope you feel the same.’

Max was suddenly on the back foot, and didn’t know what to say or do. She had manipulated their meeting last week, and she was still in love with him after all of this time. It felt like so much all at once. He knew they still had something, he could feel it, he just wasn’t sure what it was anymore. He looked across at Emma, at the girlfriend he had loved with all his heart, and they had been so great together. If his parents hadn’t died, surely they would have been on their way to moving in together already and perhaps more, but he couldn’t ignore the last ten months. He couldn’t pretend that he hadn’t changed, that his life hadn’tmoved on, and he had feelings for Bethan now too. In that moment, he realised that while he had been in the process of rebuilding his life, of trying to get past the awful thing that had happened, Emma had been waiting for him. She hadn’t moved on. She was still living in that moment.

‘If we’re being honest, there’s something I have to tell you too,’ said Max after a tense moment, and he saw her face that had been so full of hope, suddenly frozen with unexpected trepidation. Max hadn’t intended to talk about Bethan, or about the possibility of a relationship, but with Emma being so raw, it felt like the time to come clean. ‘There’s someone else, and just so you know, I’m not with them or even likely to be for a number of reasons, but I really like her, and I think that maybe she likes me too.’

‘You love her?’

‘I don’t think it’s love yet, Em, but there’s something there. I really don’t know what it is, or where it will go, but I want to see.’

A few tears escaped from her eyes and slid slowly down her cheeks like rain on a car window. Max had loved watching them as a boy, especially on long car journeys, and he would race one against the other, betting on the outcome, while his parents sat upfront, listening to the car radio, singing along with the occasional song.

‘Em, I’m sorry—’

‘No, it’s fine, I get it. You moved on. I just, it wasn’t meant to be like this,’ said Emma, as another tear came and then she quickly excused herself, and hurried to the ladies.