Page 30 of Take a Moment

‘No.’ I shake my head and pour myself a refill. ‘Don’t know anyone who lives there.’

‘Right then.’ He looks a bit bemused. ‘Must be a damn good job if you’re up for starting over by yourself. Hats off to you. Though I do remember the last time we chatted, you said you liked it there.’

We continue to laugh and chat all the way to Birmingham New Street Station. The two-and-a-half-hour journey has seemed to pass in a flash and, when the conductor’s voice comes over the intercom, announcing our imminent arrival and reminding us to take all our belongings as we alight from the train, I can’t help feeling a little disappointed that the journey is over so quickly. I’ve enjoyed my bit of escapism with gorgeous Matt.

‘Do you know where you’re going all right?’ he asks me, as we descend the steps from the train and find ourselves standing opposite each other on the busy platform.

‘Yeah, I remember a bit from when I was last here, and I’ve pretty much got the image from Google Maps stored in my head. I’ll find my way just fine.’

He nods his understanding but shows no sign of moving.

‘It was nice to see you again.’ I feel the need to fill the silence. ‘Thanks for the company.’

‘You too.’ He looks at me, almost shyly this time.

I realise that, knowing I’m single again, he now wants to ask for my number but is perhaps wondering if it’s a good idea so soon after my break-up. As much as I’m attracted to him, I’m not sure I want him to. It’s only been a matter of weeks since Dom and I went our separate ways, and I’m still a bit battered and bruised from that experience. I decide I should be the one to move away, so as not to give the wrong impression.

‘OK, see you then.’ I turn and start to walk off.

‘Wait.’ Matt steps forward and gently places his hand on my arm to stop me.

I curse myself for not shutting this down sooner and slowly turn towards him. ‘What’s up?’

‘Uh… you don’t happen to need a tour guide, do you? I could show you around. Point out the good places to eat, bars, etc.’

My stomach flutters. He looks so vulnerable, standing there waiting for my response. There’s something appealing about a man who gets nervous when asking a woman out – it shows a human side that speaks volumes over laddish bravado. There’s no doubt I’m attracted to him, but something just doesn’t feel right, which must surely be because I’ve just ended my engagement. But as he stands there, I can’t bear to let him down.

‘Sure,’ I hear myself say automatically. ‘How about you give me your number and I’ll give you a call once I’m settled?’

‘Great.’ His face immediately lights up.

He relays the number and I type it into my phone.

‘Thanks, Matt.’ I smile at him. ‘I guess I’ll speak to you soon then. Now off you go before I change my mind.’

‘Right you are.’ He gives me a final grin, this time more confident, and strides off along the platform.

As I watch him go, I wonder if maybe I was too quick to rule out a date. It doesn’t mean it has to go anywhere, and I do need to meet people to build my life here. I’ve just been handed my first Birmingham connection on a silver service plate. What’s wrong with enjoying the company of a gorgeous and genuinely nice guy? I definitely shouldn’t be ruling anything out at this stage in my new life.

As I make my way along the platform, I notice the escalators to the main station concourse are out of order. There’s a lift nearby, but a queue is forming outside it, mostly elderly people and travellers with big cases, so I head for the stairs.

I don’t think twice as I make my way up the first few steps, but by the time I reach the halfway point I’m out of breath, my muscles burning in protest. It’s a stark reminder that as much as I can feel quite normal when not doing anything too taxing, my body still isn’t coping well with more challenging physical activities – especially stairs.

I pause and stand to the side by the handrail, allowing the other passengers to pass me while I get my breath back. Then I start to climb the second half of the long steep flight. By the time I reach the top, I’m really wishing I’d waited and taken the lift. Panting heavily, my legs now weak and heavy as lead, I find a seat in one of the waiting areas and allow myself time to recover: something I’ve had to get used to. As I’m resting and indulging in a bit of people-watching, my mind starts to tick once again – and not in a helpful way.

It’s not such a good start, feeling like this, only minutes into arriving alone in the city that is to be my new home. I haven’t even made it out of the station yet. It’s so easy to forget that I’m ill when I’m just sitting having a laugh, like I was doing on the train. But here, now, too fatigued to make it to the shop across the walkway for a bottle of water, I’m almost starting to question my sanity. I’ve decided to move three hundred miles away from everyone who loves me, everyone who was willing to support me with my condition. I’ve snubbed the lot of them.

My only connection in this huge city is a man I’ve met twice on a train, who probably wouldn’t look twice at me if he knew the truth. Because really, as Dom so eloquently put it, who would willingly ‘sign up’ for that? Certainly not someone who scales mountains for fun. What was I even thinking, taking his number?

Frustrated, I pull out my phone, look up Matt’s number and hit delete. Sure, he’ll be disappointed. He might wonder what he did wrong, perhaps even think I’m just some tease who led him on. But I’ll be doing him a favour in the long run – he just won’t know it.

Chapter 11

Once I’ve recovered enough to get going, I seek out a taxi to take me to my new place. As the cab rattles along the busy Birmingham roads, past the huge high-rise buildings that would dwarf most of those in Glasgow, I look out the window curiously at the passers-by. It’s a far more diverse city population than that of Glasgow, something I noticed last time I was here too. A city that attracts all types of people – hopefully that will mean I can blend in here quite nicely.

The cab eventually pulls up alongside the residential development that houses my new apartment at the edge of the city centre. It looks just as it did in the pictures: a large modern building, with two floor-to-ceiling windows, allowing me a peek at the sparkling grey marble floor and white walls of the foyer inside.

I pay the driver and get out of the taxi, noting how fresh the air is in the middle of the UK’s second largest city. Digging out my keys, I flash my key fob in front of the door sensor and the excitement at the thought of walking across the threshold of my new place finally returns. This is more like it.

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