framed pictures of Matt were teetering in a pile in her arms and Elsa was peering at me over the top of them, looking shell-shocked.
“I noticed you didn’t have any,” I said politely. “I should think your son noticed too.” Then I turned on my heel and left.
I thought that would be a nice clean finish. And at first it was. For the first few weeks here, I managed not to look Matt up online at all. Then I crumbled. I couldn’t help myself. So I had a quick peek, expecting to see photos of him in Japan with Genevieve. But to my astonishment, there was a news story from a trade magazine: Matthias Warwick steps down from Harriet’s House. It said he was leaving for “fresh challenges” and there was lot of blah about his achievements and family history, which I skimmed, feeling stunned. He didn’t just refuse to go to Japan, he quit! He quit Harriet’s House!
Of course, I had a burning desire to know everything. I wanted to know how he’d decided, and how his parents had responded, and how he was feeling, and whether he’d gone to work with Topher or was doing something else….But I’m not Sarah. I’m not a stalker. Plus, if I’d started down that rabbit hole, I would never have got my book written.
So somehow I managed to be strong. I didn’t go on a trawl of the Internet, nor try to contact him, nor even text Topher on some casual pretext. I assumed I would never see him again, never know the answers. Case closed.
But now it’s opening up again, just a chink. If I go to that pub in Leicester Square, Matt might be there. Just the thought of seeing him again makes me feel half sick with nerves, half heady with exhilaration.
What if he’s with someone else by now? the Red Queen instantly demands inside my brain. Because he’s bound to be. You don’t think he’ll still be single, do you? A man like that gets snapped up at once. At once.
By Genevieve?
No, not Genevieve, but some beautiful, amazing woman who loves Japanese punk and held his hand while he quit Harriet’s House and is already pregnant with his baby.
(I have a sudden urge to hit her.)
(No. Retract. That would be a hate crime and I’m not a violent person and she doesn’t exist.)
Well, what if he is with someone else? optimistic Alice answers in my head. Then I’ll get closure. Exactly. So, in fact, however you look at it, it would be a mistake not to go. Yes. I should go.
I come to and realize that Farida and Felicity are both quietly watching me process my thoughts, in that patient way they have.
“I think I’ll go,” I say, trying to sound casual. “I’ll go along to Kirk’s thing. I need to go back to the UK anyway, sort out my life. It would be supportive. And nice to see the group again. And…” I clear my throat. “Anyway. I think I’ll go.”
“I’m sure that’s a good idea,” says Farida, and Felicity nods, her face creased with empathy. And neither of them mentions it again, but I know they’re thinking what I can’t bring myself to say. Matt might be there. He just might be there.
Twenty-Five
He’s not here.
As I lean against the bar, breathing in beer fumes, clutching a glass of terrible wine, and listening to Aaron’s lengthy speech about his graphic novel, the last vestiges of my smile have fallen away. My cheeks have drooped. I’ve stopped swinging my head toward the door like a hopeful dog. If he was going to come, he would have come by now. It’s over.
Of course, everyone expected us to arrive hand in hand, or even married. Everyone demanded to know what had happened. I batted away the questions with carefully curated, positive sound bites:
I’m all good! Really good! So good!
Yes, Dutch and I split up, but it wasn’t meant to be, so. Yes, I know, a shame. These things happen.
I’ve just returned from the monastery, can you believe it? Got back yesterday. Yes, it is amazing in winter. Farida sends her love….
No, I haven’t seen Dutch for a while.
No, there wasn’t anyone else involved, it just…Anyway! Enough about me.
But all the time, the disappointment was inside me, heavy and warm, weighing me down. I’d hoped. I’d really hoped. I’m not even sure what for, exactly. Just…something good. Yes, something good.