The Spark - Jules Wake Page 0,7

mum when I was eight; she took it extremely badly and never really got over it. I’m probably guilty of keeping a shield up to protect myself from what I see as the fallout, the collateral damage, and the eviscerating wounds that not being loved anymore can leave. I’ve seen it first-hand and it’s not pretty. I think it put me off opening myself to the possibility of falling in love. I’d had a couple of boyfriends. Long-term, too. But no one who’d ever made me feel quite like I’d felt in the company of Sam.

Being of a pragmatic bent, I didn’t believe in fairy tales and certainly not love at first sight but there was definitely something about him that had left an impression that was proving difficult to dislodge. I looked at my phone again. Ingrained politeness forbade me to ignore the text, which is really what I should have done, and I’ll admit that that little bit of ego that said, he likes you too, pushed my better judgement aside.

Lovely to meet you too.

My finger hovered over the keyboard, tempted to say more. God, I really wanted to. I liked him. More than liked him. But he belonged to someone else. I had no business here. It was wrong to even be thinking about him. Should I even send this polite innocuous text? But it said nothing really. I pressed send.

Three hours later, when there’d been no return text, I sadly acknowledged that I liked Sam even more. He was abiding by the rules. A good man who hadn’t strayed when temptation beckoned. Damn. It really did make me like him. Our text conversation was at an end and I knew it made sense. I wouldn’t contact him again. It was the right thing to do.

Chapter Three

‘I thought I recognised those pins,’ said a voice coming alongside me as I puffed my way along the dirt track, my feet crunching on the impacted soil of the avenue leading up to Nell Gwynn’s monument.

Flicking my glance sideways I almost stumbled at the sight of Sam easing alongside me with a delighted grin on his face.

‘Oh, hi,’ I said in a ridiculously girlish high-pitched voice, but it’s not easy being surprised and breathing at the same time, as well as wondering just what shade of tomato you’re approximating. I was guessing anywhere between overripe and sunburned-to-buggery. ‘Fancy seeing you here. Still housesitting for your folks?’ Except it came out more like ‘Fan … cy see … ing you … heeeeere,’ between pants. I sounded more like a rusty old swing.

He grinned at me. ‘No, I’ve been relieved of dog-sitting duty and been awarded the Légion d’Honneur medal for services to plant watering and recycling. My dad had a bet on that I would forget to put out the right bins for collection.’ He beamed again. ‘He never needs to know that Mum texted me reminders both weeks.’

‘What if I tell?’ I teased, managing to get it out in one exhalation. My memory had failed me; it had forgotten Sam’s golden glow of effervescent energy and that aura of glad-to-be-aliveness that seemed to envelop him. God, yes, I know I sound ridiculously fantastical. He was a mere man and not some immortal Greek god, but he certainly had some presence about him. And he was just so easy to talk to.

‘You wouldn’t, would you?’ His eyes widened dramatically and he clutched his hands to his chest, which made me laugh.

‘Remind me, what was it I was telling?’ I asked, enjoying the silliness between us. I’d thought about him quite a few times over the week. A memory I took out and stroked, like a child with its comfort blanket. I knew nothing was ever going to come of it but meeting a nice guy had been a pleasant reminder that there were still some out there.

He laughed, and for the next few minutes we fell into a silent rhythm, the pad, pad of our trainer-clad feet and the extension of our legs in perfect sync with each other and our breaths coming out in short energy-conserving pants as we matched each other step for step. I’d never thought about it before but there was something quite personal about running so in sync with another person.

We ran on in silence, which was only broken when I slipped unexpectedly on some loose dirt on the path. Sam’s arm shot out to grab me, otherwise I would have gone down. I stumbled but