other for no reason explicable by logic or numbers or common sense. How unaccountably strange we are.
Friday 12 July
Jonah called me at work earlier and asked if he could come over this evening, said he was at a loose end, all very casual, but I think the wedding is on his mind. He probably wants to check in and make sure I’m not privately falling to pieces as the date approaches.
I panicked for a couple of seconds after I hung up, and then I reminded myself that Jonah Jones here is not the same Jonah as in my sleeping universe. Here he is dependable, kind and undemanding, and I’m more than ninety per cent certain he hasn’t secretly loved me for years. He’ll come over for an hour, chat about things in that circumspect way of his, and then I’ll send him on his way to The Prince to find Deckers and co. Or maybe I’ll find a way to talk to him about Wales; I’ll see how it goes. I’ve been putting it off if I’m honest, but I’ll try to look past my own needs tonight and think about what’s best for him. And then I realize, that’s what this is. He’s coming to tell me he’s leaving.
‘Okay?’ I ask, hovering on the doorstep.
He shrugs, one shoulder higher than the other. ‘Not too bad.’
‘Want to come in?’ I say eventually, even though I know perfectly well he does.
‘Ta,’ he says, following me in, closing the door behind him. I go for the kettle, he reaches for the cups, and between us we make coffee, the TV in the lounge providing welcome background noise. I’ve never felt this kind of awkward around him before; I’ve been mad at him, sure, but never been so nervous that it’s rendered me silent.
‘Sit down,’ I say, backing my bum down on to the end of the sofa, cradling the mug between my hands.
He drops into the armchair he always sat on, the one opposite Freddie’s.
‘Nice cushion.’ He says it with a slight question mark – he knows as well as I do the significance of it.
‘How’s work?’ I ask, as if he’s a passing acquaintance in the doctor’s waiting room.
‘Winding down for the summer, thank God,’ he says.
‘Of course,’ I say listlessly. ‘Lucky.’
Jonah’s lengthy school holidays used to turn Freddie green with envy, even though he knew perfectly well that much of Jonah’s time was spent catching up on paperwork and doing lesson prep.
‘That’s kind of what I want to talk to you about,’ he says. ‘I’m going away for a while.’
Here we go, I think. He’s going to tell me that he and Dee are going to spend the summer in Wales, see if it feels like a place he could put down roots.
‘It’s okay, I already know,’ I say. ‘Dee told me about Wales.’
He puts his coffee down on the table and rubs his hands over his face. ‘I’m not going to Wales.’
‘You’re not?’
He shakes his head slowly, looking at a spot on the rug. ‘It’s over, me and Dee,’ he says. ‘We called it last night. Or, rather, I did.’
‘Oh,’ I sigh, lost for words now because I’m not entirely sure where this is leading. ‘But I thought …’ I trail off.
‘She wants to live in Wales,’ he says. ‘Closer to her family.’
‘She said,’ I say. ‘I think she was hoping you might go with her.’
Jonah screws his nose up. ‘I don’t know what I want, Lyds. I’m restless, but not for Wales. Me and Dee … we weren’t at that stage, you know? I don’t think she thought so either, to be honest, but she’s landed a permanent post in a school out there so …’ He shrugs. ‘So she’s going anyway. I guess she thought if I went too we could try to make a proper go of things.’
‘I’m sorry …’ I say, and I mean it. ‘I thought you two might go the distance.’
‘Yeah,’ he says, resigned. ‘I thought so too for a while. I feel like a twat for letting it go on for so long, she deserved better.’ He drinks his coffee, pensive, and I get the sense there’s more to come, that he hasn’t come here to tell me it’s over with Dee.
‘I’m going to LA for the summer.’
Whoa, hang on a minute.
‘LA?’ I hear the incredulous note in my higher than usual voice. Of all the places in the world I can imagine Jonah going for the summer, LA isn’t one of