‘I’m fine!’ I say. ‘No, I’m great. I’m really, really happy for you both.’
I loll my head against the train window and feel my skull rattle against the glass. I left as quickly as I could, stuffing my suitcase and forcing it shut, then running out of the flat, leaving behind a string of excuses about how I had to make this train, it was the last one that was running for the day, and if I missed it then I’d miss Dad’s birthday.
All of it was true, but that wasn’t what I was really saying. Really, it was more like: I’ve got to go, I can’t stand to be in the flat for a minute longer otherwise I’ll burst into tears and ruin your lovely, special moment with my selfish fear about what the hell I’m going to do now and you’ll never believe me when I say I’m really happy for you both, even though I really am. Really.
The worst part is, I didn’t see this coming. I knew that Penny would move in with Mike at some point, but I tuckedthe thought away and assumed it would happen in like … ten years. But not ten years, because by then we’d all be in our forties, but like, when we’re thirty-something … even though we’re all thirty-something now.
And as for Tanya, I knew she was fantastic at her job. She always has been. I knew her PR firm has offices all over the world and she’s always wanted to travel more. But I never considered that might result in her getting snapped up by a different branch of the firm and leaving the country. But then, why not? It seems so obvious now. All of it seems so bloody obvious, and yet Ineverconsidered any of it. I was too busy in my little bubble, pratting about and making costumes. What is the matter with me?
The train starts to slow down, approaching my stop, and I get to my feet, hauling my suitcase off the top rack. The snowflakes have steadily fallen thicker as the evening has gone on, and the further the train has pulled into the countryside, the more it feels like we’re being drawn inside an enormous feather pillow.
I heave my suitcase down onto the platform with a thud, wincing as the icy air hits my face and the snowflakes cling to my eyelashes. It’s a ten-minute walk home from the station, and as I decided to get an earlier train, I told Dad not to worry about picking me up. My suitcase is on wheels, and anyway, I need the time to collect myself before seeing Mum and Dad. If I saw Dad right now, I’m worried I’d burst straight into tears.
I stop at the ticket barrier and start fumbling for my ticket. My hands grasp at my empty, gaping pockets and I curse under my breath.
Where is my ticket?
I sidestep out of the way of the queue of people, looking around as I debate whether to beg the station staff to let me through or jump the ticket barrier and make a break for it, when my heart stops.
It’s him. Nate. Stood on the platform.
He … What is he doing here?
I peer at him. The snow is falling thickly now and it’s hard to see … but as I walk closer towards him, my heart starts to race. Oh my God, it’s him. It’s definitely him. The guy who ran out on me, and then well and truly fobbed me off. Should I say something? Or just go? No, Annie, hold your head up high and leave. He is not worth your time. He is—
‘What the fuck are you doing here?’
Or, you know, just shout at him.
Nate’s head jolts up and he looks so shocked to see me that I almost laugh. ‘Annie?’ he cries. ‘What are you doing here? Hi!’
‘Remember me?’ I say. ‘I’m the girl you keep trying to lose?’
He blinks at me. ‘Trying to lose?’
‘Yeah.’ I pull my hat closer to my ears. ‘First you run out on a conversation with me without saying goodbye, and then you fob me off after we have an actual date.’
‘Fob you off?’ he repeats. ‘I didn’t do that, did I?’
‘Yes, you did! We had a great time and then you just palmed me off with a shitty “sorry I don’t want to see you again”.’
God. Way to play it cool, Annie.
‘Ah,’ he presses his thumb and forefinger against hiseyebrows, ‘you’re right. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I suppose I’ve blown it now, haven’t I?’
‘Yes,’ I say at once. ‘You have.’
He nods, the playful spark in his eyes that I saw last time we were together nowhere to be seen. He drops his chin. ‘Understood.’
This is the part where I turn on my heel and storm off, with my last shred of dignity and an impressive story to tell my friends. But something stops me. He looks so sad.
‘You haven’t answered my question.’
He looks up. ‘What question?’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Ah.’ He tucks his hands in his pockets and then looks up at the blinking announcement screen. ‘Well, I think I live here now.’