Page 44 of The Love of Our Lives

‘Sorry,’ he says, his mouth twitching, ‘I just thought I could use a little help with this very heavy package here.’

Frustration bursts through me, from all the time alone in the flat, from him making me feel worried about him like that.

‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’ I start, heat blazing behind my eyes, ‘don’t you ever . . . don’t you ever . . .’

And then out of nowhere, I am crying, big heaving sobs right there in front of him, as though the simple act of speaking to another human has broken down my walls, and all I can do is stand here and weep with the relief of it.

‘Oh Emily,’ he says.

Twenty minutes later, and I’m ensconced in Connie’s old chair, hot tea in hand.

William puts a custard cream on the saucer too, to get my sugar levels up , and I find myself nibbling at it slowly.

As he walks back from the kitchen, I can’t help noticing how much quicker he’s moving these days, as though dancing’s revived some part of him that had never truly gone away.

And when he hugged me in the hallway earlier, I could feel the strength of him around me still, the exact support I needed in that moment.

Eventually, once I’d calmed down, he told me to come over for tea, but first to go shower because I looked like, ‘a creature from the deep’.

Despite everything, it made me laugh, and as the water poured over my skin a few minutes later, I realised I hadn’t actually washed since London.

And it felt sort of good, that simple exercise of cleaning myself.

Sitting down opposite me now, he places his tea and saucer purposefully on the little table to the side – next to a new mobile phone, I note.

‘So,’ he says, leaning forwards slightly, ‘let’s hear it. What’s going on, Emily? Why the hell did you let that man go to Canada without you? And why the hell did you disappear on us all?’

I can’t help smiling; there’s never been any beating about the bush with William.

Still, it’s hard to form the words, impossible to tell anyone what my real issue is.

But he’s right in one way, I did sort of ditch them, these people I’ve grown to adore, in search of something else.

And where did that leave me, trying to follow someone else’s heart?

Sad, alone and miserable. Emily even tried to tell me: I felt those mixed emotions with Simon and on the train to London, and that tingle speaking to Fran before, but I didn’t listen.

So, I probably do owe him – all of them – an explanation.

‘I might have to leave . . . in a month,’ I say, tracing my finger over the blue beading of Connie’s chair.

I don’t need to look up to know that William’s face has dropped and I feel awful again – for upsetting Adam, for upsetting William. But also for upsetting myself. Because I’ve had the best time of my life and I really don’t want it to end.

Of course I don’t want it to end.

I’ve only just got started.

‘Why?’ he frowns.

I pause as I try to form my words. ‘I can’t tell you the reason exactly, just that I have a big choice to make.’

And it really is a big choice – an impossible choice. Because this wasn’t even my heart to start with and now I’m here, back in the past, with the chance to right it for her. To let her physically live again.

But equally, this is my life too – this part of me alive in the world somewhere – and now I’ve experienced so much of it, I’m just not sure I can bring myself to end it all. Not yet.

‘I might have to leave in a few months,’ I repeat, ‘for good.’ And I could be wrong but I’m sure something crosses his face. Some glimmer of understanding – almost as though he knows .

But he can’t know, can he?

‘So, that’s how you want to play it,’ William says and I look up, not to see him sad, but to see him angry.

I find myself frowning now too. ‘Play it?’

‘That’s right,’ he says, jabbing his finger at me.

‘Play it. Because if I’ve learned anything since you bloody well moved into this building, it’s that life is completely ours for the taking.

It is our choice what we do with every second, every minute left of it.

We’re all leaving sometime if you weren’t aware, some of us sooner than others.

So, if you want to sit around here for these last few months doing nothing because you’re scared, then that’s all on you, Missy. ’

‘I’m not even going to push you on what’s actually happening here,’ he ploughs on, ‘But after everything you’ve achieved this last year, I’ll be damned if you throw it all away now.

Because it’s not the length of time we’re here, it’s what we do in that time.

It’s about living your life, every single day to the end, or it’s an utter disservice to those who can’t.

And I don’t care what your reasoning is for doing nothing because the only truth is that you’re letting fear stop you, and that’s just not good enough. ’

A tear falls down my cheek.

‘And yes, maybe you will have to go,’ ‘he continues firmly, ‘but wouldn’t you rather go out on a high?’

Suddenly everything he’s saying starts to make sense, like choppy waters finally settling in my mind.

Because this is where I’ve been going wrong all along, always doing what I thought other people needed or wanted, always being too scared to just get out there and live out my dreams. I even went to London and considered rekindling with a man I didn’t love. And what happened?

My heart is threatening to burst from my chest and I can see in this moment how very foolish I’ve been.

For so long.

‘I’ve got to go,’ I say suddenly, the words unexpected even to my own ears.

But William just smiles a watery smile, as I stand up.

‘Bloody glad to hear it,’ he says.

‘Thank you, William!’ I shout, as I run out the door.