Page 67 of The Moment I Met You
She has dropped this into the conversation as though it is something casual, not a time-bomb. I can tell from her sideways glance that she is wondering how I am going to react. Apart from a slight flare of my nostrils there is probably not a lot to see. On the outside at least.
Inside, I feel like a bundle of threads unravelling. All of this feels so strange. Finding out about Harry and the ring. Now finding out that Alex is still there, that our lives are still connected in such an odd way.
‘Is he doing it?’ I ask eventually. ‘The documentary? Has he agreed to take part?’
‘He has. It’s actually brilliant from my perspective – we can meet him there, film in the village, do the interviews in the place where it happened.’
‘Did you say “we”? I’m assuming you mean you and Ollie …’
Em turns to look directly at me, her hands on her knees, chewing her lip.
‘No. I mean as many of us as possible. You don’t have to do it – nobody does. Goodness knows I understand why you wouldn’t want to. I’m not entirely sure I want to. But I have an instinct that it’s the right thing to do … not just because it’ll be brilliant for the programme, but because it’s a way of finding … this is terrible, I really want to say “closure”, but that feels too glib, you know? So not closure maybe – but a way of drawing a line. A way of saying goodbye, maybe.’
‘I know you mentioned it when we first met, going back. But I … I didn’t think you meant me. I’m not sure I can. I’m not sure I’m ready to see it again …’
It’s true that the thought of seeing the village again is difficult – but the thought of seeing the village with Alex in it is somehow even harder. Imagining him there, sitting in the plaza he helped build, by a church he designed … back in that place, where we first met and our lives changed forever. How would that make me feel?
I don’t have a time machine, and the Alex and Elena that exist now are not the same as the Alex and Elena who talked about love and loss as a hummingbird hovered behind us. We are not the same Alex and Elena as we were before we went into that hole.
We’re probably not even the same Alex and Elena as we were the last time we saw each other – a time that still hurts to think about.
Seeing him again might be astonishing. It might be awful. But it definitely won’t be easy.
‘I know, and like I said, I do understand. You don’t have to decide now. I have more work to do. A few more days here, some editing, more work on the Australian side of things. Some interviews to do in Spain. It’ll be months away at least. I hope you’ll come – and I say that purely as a friend, not a film-maker. I … well, it would be good to have you there.’
She looks, and sounds, fragile. I notice the dark marks beneath her eyes that I’ve attributed to late nights working. The slight tremor in her voice.
‘Don’t take this as me being nice to you, but are you okay, Em?’
She sighs, and rubs her hands over her face, across the downy buzz-cut of shaved red hair.
‘No. Not really. I should already have been to Santa Maria again, and there’s no way I can make this programme without it. But I’ve been stalling. Part of me wishes I hadn’t even started this, because it’s much harder than I thought it would be. I keep bursting into tears at inappropriate times, and getting snappy for no reason, and basically just being a bit of an arsehole. Ollie has the patience of a saint.’
I stay silent for a moment, then say, ‘You’re doing brilliantly, Em. This is such a brave thing you’re doing, and I think your dad would be so proud – you’re speaking for him as well as for the rest of us. But … I understand. Part of me wishes I’d never started this too if I’m honest. But I also feel like I need to do it. Like I won’t ever be right with it if I don’t. Like it’ll make me stronger, in the end.’
‘Yes. That’s exactly it. If it doesn’t kill us first, eh? Anyway. I’d love you to come. And Harry, if he wants to. I know it’d be emotional, but it’d also be …’
‘Good television?’
‘I was going to say cathartic, but yeah, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t also considered the visuals … what can I say? I’m a media whore at heart.’
I smile, and know that both things are true. It could be cathartic. It would also be tremendous viewing.
‘I’ll think about it, Em. I hadn’t ever considered going back. You know what I’m like. I haven’t been abroad since … well, not for a few years. And I check online for earthquake activity literally every day. I’m not sure I even could go back, at least not while I was conscious.’
Of course, what I don’t mention is that it’s not only the logistics that scare me – it is the thought of seeing Alex again. I can’t imagine a world where I am back in that village, with Harry, with Alex.
‘I’d happily drug you.’
‘That’s a very kind offer, but … I don’t know. I won’t rule it out, but I need time for the idea to percolate, okay? I’ll talk to Harry about it too. It’ll be more complicated for him with the travel, but he could definitely do it with a bit of planning. You know Harry – he’d be wheeling around the plaza, posing for the camera, presenting his ruggedly handsome profile for the world to admire …’
‘I bet he would. He’s a massive show-off, in a good way. I need to talk to him anyway – I don’t know exactly what he did after he left you at the restaurant table. Some of the timings don’t match up. We know he went to one of the stalls, and we know where he was … found. Afterwards. But what I can’t figure out is what else he did, or how he got there.’
‘And you need to know where to put his blob?’
‘Exactly. A nice shade of blue for him, I think.’
I realise, as she chats on, that I need to make a decision about whether I tell her – tell her that he didn’t buy the ring that night, from one of those stalls. I would be happy to leave it, to leave the pretence where it is now that I know the truth, and he has said that it is up to me – he will accept it either way.
