Page 222 of Falling for You
Remy holds his pint glass up to me and we clink them together.
Remy’s wearing his Fred Perry bomber jacket, zipped up to the base of his neck, and faded blue jeans. As always, his grey flat cap is firmly on his head and his salt and pepper stubbly beard is manicured so that it outlines his mouth in a perfect square.
It’s Saturday afternoon. The rest of the week dragged by in a horrible, weird blur. I went to work, I sat at my desk, I came home. I’ve spoken to Mom and Dad every day. Everything has ticked by, just like life always has done. Just fine. Just like my life was before I met Annie. Before we were walking round the streets of her hometown together, laughingwith her parents, dancing in that shitty club in Clapham. Before she vanished into thin air.
I push the feelings down. There is no point reliving it. I can’t get it back. She’s gone, and I’ll never know why.
I haven’t heard from Aunt Tell, not that I was expecting to. She ignored me for weeks before I forced myself into her life – why wouldn’t she ignore me again?
‘So,’ Remy says, after a few minutes of silence as we both stare up at the flickering television screen. ‘Why did you need to see me, then?’
‘Can’t I just want a pint with you?’
‘Sure.’ Remy cocks his head. ‘But that’s not why you called me, is it?’
I take a sip of my pint. Today, the pub is peppered with people. Some of the regulars are propped up at the bar, clusters of families and friends are tucking into cooked lunches and a few children are squabbling over a teetering tower of Jenga. There isn’t any football on today (or ‘important football’, in the words of Remy), so the pub is quieter than usual.
‘Well, first of all, I need to talk to you about my aunt.’ I give him a questioning look and he grins into his pint.
‘She’s a nice lady, Nate.’
Hmmm. We’ll agree to disagree there.
‘We just stayed in touch after the theatre. Just some casual dates. That’s all.’
‘Okay, sure. I do need to talk to you about something else, though.’
‘Is it about that girl?’ He smirks at me from over his pint and I flinch.
Fuck, why did I ever tell anybody about Annie?
‘No,’ I say. ‘I’m going back to New York.’
Remy raises his eyebrows in surprise. ‘Really? Why’s that?’
‘I hate it here,’ I say at once, the hurt of Annie’s name still burning in my chest. I catch Remy’s eyes and soften. ‘No. Sorry. I don’t hate it,’ I correct myself. ‘I just … it isn’t what I thought it was going to be.’
‘What did you think it was going to be?’ Remy says, and the smirk is back. ‘Were you expecting to bump into the King?’
I roll my eyes at him. ‘I’m not that bad.’
He nods. ‘Well, when are you off, then?’
‘Soon,’ I say. ‘I think I’ll book my flight tomorrow.’
I’m expecting Remy to have the same reaction as everyone else. The ‘oh well, you’ll be missed’ or, ‘I suppose it’ll be nice to go back home.’ But he doesn’t say anything.
‘What?’ I say, when I can’t bear the silence any longer.
He jumps slightly. ‘Hmm? Oh, nothing.’
‘Yes, there is,’ I say, trying not to sound annoyed. ‘What is it?’
He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. ‘It’s just a bit soon to go back, isn’t it? I thought you wanted to properly experience life here.’
‘I did.’
‘And you’ve been here what, five weeks?’
