Page 22 of Midnight in Paris

‘Everything is,’ he said. ‘And even sometimes the sensible option can be a risk. Depends how you look at it.’

‘Oh, Tom,’ she said. ‘Look, it’s so sweet that you feel that way. But I really think…’

‘That I’ll be off with a new woman the minute my feet touch the ground in London?’

‘Well, yeah,’ she admitted with a shrug. ‘I don’t want to go through that. And nor do you.’

He nodded and she felt a sudden pang of rejection.

‘It’s for the best,’ she said again, not sure why she was prompting him to speak, only knowing that she might give in if he tried just a little bit more. Something about his presence, his proximity. Those eyes.

‘OK, how about this,’ he said, more decisive now, his voice more like his old self. He drew an envelope out of his pocket. ‘You go and sow your wild oats or whatever you’re hoping to do at teacher-training college…’

‘Get my PGCE?’ she suggested. ‘Learn stuff?’

‘Yeah, all of that,’ he said. ‘And I’ll do my internship. But we’ll stay friends, right? You did say you wanted to be friends?’

‘Yeah, of course,’ she said, eyeing the envelope, wondering what it could possibly bring to the equation.

‘And the only reason that you want to break up is that you don’t believe I’m serious. Don’t believe I know myself, right?’

‘It sounds horrible when you say it like that. I just think we’ve both got so much ahead and…’

‘Well, look…’ He drew what looked like a ticket out of the envelope. ‘I bought these. Two tickets to Paris. You know, after our last trip I thought it could be kind of a tradition.’

‘Oh,’ she said, looking at it. ‘For next year.’

He nodded.

‘I’m so sorry. Can you get a refund?’

He laughed. ‘I’m not worried about the money. I only booked them yesterday. But I thought – doesn’t this show you how serious I am? I’m planning something for in twelve months’ time. Something forus.’

She nodded. But she’d never thought he’d been lying to her about how he felt, what he wanted. Just to himself. He was naive, not a liar.

‘So,’ he said, holding one ticket out to her and waving it slightly to encourage her to reach for it. ‘Take it. No strings. You loved Paris, right? All that art…’

‘Well, yeah.’

‘All the sex,’ he added, raising an eyebrow.

She laughed. ‘I suppose it had its moments.’

‘Well then,’ he said, as if this solved everything.

‘Well then, what?’ Was he buying her with a ticket to Paris? Because although that obviously cost a bit, she was pretty sure she was worth more.

‘Keep the ticket. Do your training. Then, in a year, come to Paris. I’ll be there too. I mean, friends can go away together, can’t they?’

‘Right.’

He shuffled forward slightly, reached for her hand. She put down her tea and let him take it. His fingers were smooth and warm against her perpetually cold skin.

‘And if I still feel the way I feel, and you feel – well, the way I think you might feel… Then we’ll give it another go,’ he said. ‘Call it a test, if you want.’

‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’

He shrugged. ‘Even idiots like me have got to be serious sometimes.’

---