Page 32 of The Love of Our Lives

Over the next few weeks, I work my way steadily through Emily’s list, and Charlie is only too happy to join in too. In a strange way, I’ve realised we’re tracking the same timeline – around August this year, she will have this baby and her whole life will change. Just like mine.

I put on those hiking boots at the door and Charlie and I walk up a Munro together one clear, frosty day. And as I stand there at the top, looking out across the beaten green and brown landscape, I can’t help thinking how absolutely incredible the world looks from here.

I’m a bit concerned about Charlie overexerting herself during her pregnancy, of course.

But as she keeps saying, she’s still only a few months along, and the worst of the sickness has already passed, so everything is fine.

Sven seemed a little nervous about it initially, but when he sees how much fun we’re having, he quickly backs off.

He knows I’ll look out for her, after all.

At any rate, we’re pretty limited with what we can do on the list as it’s only February and it’s still too cold for some activities.

I think about jumping on a flight to continue them somewhere hot and exotic, but I’m not sure if I want to; I’m not sure I’m quite ready to, truthfully.

Plus, I’m enjoying doing a lot of it in Scotland, and as I’ve learnt since I’ve been here, you don’t actually need to leave the country to have big adventures.

It’s as I’m walking towards the flat after doing another Munro with Charlie, with mud all over my boots and a lightness inside that’s just wonderful, that I see someone coming along the street from the opposite direction. My heart catches.

Adam.

The first I’ve seen of him since Christmas.

‘Hello.’ I can’t help smiling, as we come to a stop in front of each other. He’s in jeans and his old black winter jacket, a scruffy beanie on his head, and attraction floods through my body.

‘Hello,’ he says, his eyes lighting up like he’s genuinely happy to see me too. No annoyance or trace of animosity, but perhaps a hint of sadness.

‘How have you been?’ I say, once I’ve caught my breath. ‘How was the trip to Norway?’

‘Really interesting. Busy.’

He doesn’t elaborate on what busy means exactly and I don’t pry. It’s none of my business anymore, after all.

‘And you?’ he says, a touch of nerves there possibly. ‘How have you been?’

‘Oh, fine, fine. Busy.’

We both start smiling at my equally lame reply. It’s weird being awkward with each other.

‘Where have you been?’ he says, looking down at my muddy feet.

‘Up a Munro, with Charlie.’

His face lights up. ‘Sounds great. Cold?’

‘Wonderfully cold,’ I grin. ‘Freezing actually.’

‘I heard you were doing quite a bit with her recently; sounds like fun.’

‘It is. And we’re going to do a ski trip soon too,’ I say, before I can stop myself.

‘Oh yes, Sven was saying he was going.’

I pause. ‘Do you want to come too?’

His eyes linger on mine. ‘I wouldn’t want to intrude.’

I feel myself heating up under his gaze because I’m the real intruder here. And I know I need to keep my distance, and I know nothing else can happen between us, but the fact is these were his friends first and I don’t like shutting him out of his own friendship group.

Plus, I miss him: his enthusiasm for everything and everyone, the way he makes even little moments seem big, his never-ending encouragement – being close to him.

Would it hurt to spend a little time with him?

‘You wouldn’t be intruding at all,’ I say firmly, ‘please come.’

‘All right,’ he says, ‘I’ll come then. We can take the van.’

I smile, happy, relieved.

‘Do you fancy,’ I start, before I can talk myself out of it, ‘I mean, do want to want to hang out this evening? Go get a bite to eat or something, just as friends I mean.’

He opens his mouth to reply, when a taxi pulls up alongside us and a man gets out – handsome, sandy swept-back hair, chiselled jaw. It takes a few moments for it to click.

Simon.

And suddenly it’s like my heart is exploding in my chest and I’m flooded with all these intense feelings: attraction, panic . . . hurt.

Oh god .

When he spots me, he stops, and I can see he’s just as good-looking as in the pictures. Like a different breed of human, in his expensive wool coat and navy cashmere scarf; tanned skin as though he’s been in the Maldives for weeks.

‘Emily,’ he says, stopping in front of me.

‘Simon,’ I say the name like I’m trying it on, and find it’s oddly familiar on the tongue.

And then he smiles an amazing smile at me.

I hear a scuffing noise and turn to see Adam looking between us, and my heart bleeds because I know how it must look, Simon being here like this.

But that’s not why I broke it off , I want to cry out. It’s not that.

Yet at the same time, something is definitely happening here with this man I’ve never met before. The connection is undeniable.

‘I’d better get going,’ Adam says to me softly and, with a nod at Simon, he heads back towards the building.

I’m about to call out to him, say something, anything, to explain all of this to him, when I feel a gentle hand on my arm.

‘Do you fancy a drink somewhere maybe?’ Simon says hopefully, and I turn back to him. ‘Or, do you need to get back to . . .’

‘Adam,’ I finish for him. As I hear the building door swing shut, frustration floods me. ‘His name is Adam.’

‘OK, I see. But do you think we could just . . . talk somewhere?’

And despite my annoyance at losing that opportunity to spend time with Adam, other feelings are bubbling away now in my chest and my heart softens at Simon’s words.

He must have travelled all the way from London to see me, after all, and I could be wrong but I swear there are dark circles under his eyes, like he’s not been sleeping well.

‘I could do a coffee?’ I offer.

‘I’ll take it.’ Simon looks visibly relieved, and a moment later, we turn and head along the darkened pavement together.

The Purple Pineapple should still be open for a while yet, and at least that’s a safe and familiar setting.

Because the truth is, no matter what I’m feeling, I don’t know this guy at all.

We’re quiet as we walk the few metres along the twilight pavement, the general rush of Tollcross filling the void when I don’t know how to – cars zipping by, shops closing up and restaurants prepping.

Walking into the warmth of the coffee shop, we take a small table at the back and Zoe looks over at us suspiciously as she settles up with a couple at the till.

I told her about Adam, of course, and she was openly annoyed at me – said she had been planning to cater our wedding, which I could only laugh numbly at.

‘This place is nice,’ Simon says genuinely, shrugging off his expensive coat. But even I can see he’s a fish out of water here. He should be in some luxurious restaurant or hotel bar somewhere. Not a purple coffee shop in Tollcross.

A minute later, Zoe is over to us taking our order, glancing repeatedly at Simon as she does so, like he’s some sort of movie star. And I suppose he does look like one, really. I’d never have met a guy like him in a million years in my old life.

Once Zoe’s loped off to get the coffees, Simon turns back to me.

‘Are you . . . dating him? Adam?’ he says eventually, and I can see the anxiety on his face.

I think about the question for a moment, almost wishing I could say yes. But that’s just not the reality anymore.

‘No,’ I say finally.

He nods, relief spreading across his features.

But questions bubble up in me now.

‘Why are you here?’ I say finally. After all, he was the one who cheated on Emily when they were engaged. He was the one who broke her heart and made her feel the need to leave that life, so why the wait? Why now?

He looks at me. ‘Because you wouldn’t reply to any of my texts, or the flowers on your birthday?’

Oh god.

So that was definitely him – the cardless flowers.

Simon turns to me and I stop, look up into his cobalt-blue eyes, which seem so very full of love right now.

‘And I came up here to tell you something,’ he says.

‘What’s that?’ I say, heart thudding in my chest.

‘The receipt—’ he pauses ‘—you were right: I was with another woman.’

I look up at him sharply, ready to speak for Emily again, when he cuts in.

‘But it wasn’t what you think at all. It was just a dinner with an old girlfriend of mine, and I should have told you in advance, I know that now. I wanted to explain myself, but you’d already gone.’

I’m curious on Emily’s behalf now; can’t help but be vaguely protective too.

What possible reason is there to meet up with an old girlfriend and then lie about it?

‘What is the explanation then?’

He nods, as though I’ve given him the permission he’s been looking for.

‘Everything had just gotten really hard. You were so focused on your work and I felt like I was doing everything for the wedding. It was all on me. You always put your career first over everything, something I totally admired about you, but eventually it completely took over – you know it did, Emily. We spoke about it, several times. And God help me, I got lonely. Then she contacted me asking for a catch-up, for old time’s sake, but nothing happened, I promise.

‘And the thing is, Emily,’ he continues, before I can interject, ‘after you left, I just missed you so goddamn much, and I realised how stupid I’d been, how much I loved you too.

I love your big smile and your terrible singing in the shower; I love how you make such a big effort with everyone, even that woman who was lost on that little back street that time in Madrid, remember?

I love how determined you are to succeed at whatever you do, but most of all, I love how you had the courage to start all over again like you did, and I’d like to be a part of this new story, in some way.

And we could stay in London or I could move up here to be with you, or we could go somewhere else together.

Whatever you want, Emily, because all I know is, I’d follow you anywhere.

’ He takes a breath. ‘I’d follow you forever. ’

Something bigger starts to grow and expand inside me now. Those strange sensations again.

Because I’ve heard this all before, seen this all before – his devastatingly handsome face, his sorry words right here in this café.

And suddenly all these feelings come rushing up at me, memories resurfacing like bubbles in my mind, my heart – Simon’s face across from mine under white sheets, sitting together on a plane somewhere and feeling so happy I could burst, dancing down some boulevard with Simon twirling me over and over under his arm, laying on some beach with him in a distant land, our hands intertwined on the sand, feeling like the world was at our fingertips.

And there is love there, even after all these months apart. So, maybe it was just a catch-up for old time’s sake? A simple misunderstanding as he says.

A curdling of guilt starts in me now, that I should have looked a little more closely at Emily’s life from the start. Because what if she was simply taking a break up here? What if she only stayed for a while then moved back down?

What if she got back together with Simon in the end?

Oh god, I’d never thought about that – that the course I’m on now might not be the one she finished on at all. I’ve been so concentrated on doing all the fun stuff I think she did, that I haven’t actually considered any other pieces of her life.

My heart bleeds for Emily, because now I categorically know that this is the end for her; that these are her last months on Earth that I’m using up. I’ll go back to my old, limited life, where I’ve got a bit more time. Emily, on the other hand, will be gone. Absolutely and completely.

So, what did she do the first time at this juncture?

What did she actually want?

I’m searching my mind for more images, more sensations. But it’s all stopped again.

‘Say something, Emily,’ Simon says, and I look up sharply, see him gazing down at me. And I know I can’t leave it here.

For her sake.

‘Let’s keep talking,’ I say finally, firmly, ‘if that suits you.’

Then he smiles the biggest of smiles. ‘That suits me great.’

We talk for the next couple of hours over a bottle of wine about everything and nothing – about what the rest of the gang is up to, how Phoebe and Hector just had their second kid who Simon will be godfather to, how he went to Tristan and Layla’s wedding in Cornwall and it was the most elaborate spectacle he’d ever seen.

Business is going well with his dad, and his mum says hello to me, and I get another glimmer of a tall, elegant woman who spent a lot of time in spas.

Simon is funny and confident and intriguing in this way that fascinates me, and I’m not sure I’ve met anyone like him before.

But he’s warm too, and I feel immediately at ease with him in the same way I did with Fran.

Then before I know it, Zoe is shutting up shop around us and we slip back outside into the cold.

Standing in front of my building, Simon gazes down at me with his deep blue eyes, and I know instinctively we’re not done here – I know Emily was not done here.

‘Can we keep talking then?’ Simon says hopefully.

‘Yes,’ I agree, realising I actually do want to, and he grins.

After a quick kiss on his cheek, I head back into the building, and run back up the stairs. Standing uncertainly at the top, I glance only briefly towards Adam’s door, a pain pulling at my heart, before turning left and heading into my own.