I wasn’t sure whether that was a dig at my inappropriate attire or a compliment.
I sniffed and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. ‘That’s because I wasn’t there. I wasn’t meant to be here at all.’
‘How so?’
‘I was on my way to a party with my friend and we just kind of accidentally got caught up in it, and then I fell over because I’m wearing ridiculous shoes.’
He looked me up and down appraisingly. ‘Yes, you’re not exactly dressed for it, are you? I mean, you look lovely and everything, but…’
His lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile, and I found myself giggling too. There was something about the way his teeth flashed in his tanned face and his eyes crinkled up at the corners that made me feel suddenly much, much better, like something good might come out of this disaster of a day after all. And I remembered the message from the app, saying that I might find love where I least expected.
‘I haven’t exactly got my protest-march A game on,’ I admitted.
‘I guess the party’s loss was the protest march’s gain.’
‘Not really. I mean, I wasn’t going to make much difference to global warming sitting on the pavement having a cry.’
‘Crying for climate change. That’s a new one on me.’
‘I guess it’s never going to catch on.’
We both laughed again. He had a great laugh, totally infectious.
‘Show’s over, now, anyway. Fancy a drink?’ he asked.
I felt a little leap of excitement. Could this be about to turn into an actual date? A date with a man I realised I properly fancied? Then I looked down at my scraped knees and torn dress, and realised that my make-up must be all smudged from crying.
‘I can’t, really. Not like this.’
I gestured to my grazed knees and he winced sympathetically. ‘I’d suggest going back to my place to get you cleaned up, but that’s in Bedford at the moment, and I’m not sure a two-hour train journey is worth it for a bit of Savlon.’
‘Probably not. Mine’s closer, so I should get home and sort myself out.’
‘Sure. Well, I guess I’ll see you around, if social justice is your thing.’ He half turned away, then turned back again, like he didn’t really want to leave.
I felt like I ought to wave goodbye and say I’d see him around too, even though I knew I wouldn’t. But there was a voice in my head practically jumping up and down waving its arms and saying, ‘No! Don’t! What if he’s The One that Got Away and you’re about to let him do just that?’
He was still standing there, looking down at me, and I was looking back. It was like there was a thread running between us that we were both about to break, despite not wanting to, because we didn’t know how not to. He held out his arms and I moved into them for a hug, and he held me close for a moment. I could feel his breath ruffling my hair and the heat of his body through his T-shirt, and I didn’t want him to let go.
‘Hey, what star sign are you?’ I asked, my voice muffled by his chest.
‘You normally ask random guys that question when you don’t even know their name?’
‘Hardly ever. I guess it must be something about you. I’m Zoë, by the way, and Aquarius.’
‘The sign of spirituality, intuition, creativity, idealism and vision. I’m Gemini. Outgoing, intelligent, optimistic, passionate and dynamic. Name’s Jude. Oh, and Geminis are also highly impulsive, and highly compatible with Aquarius. Just saying.’
‘In that case,’ I said, ‘why don’t you come back to mine?’
Twelve
It may feel as if your dreams are slipping through your fingers today. But maybe you’ve just been dreaming of the wrong things?
‘Right, our lamb’s ready for the oven.’ Robbie gave one of the garlic-and-rosemary-studded legs a fond pat. ‘How’s that nut roast looking?’
I poked at the mass of pulverised nuts, herbs, onion and breadcrumbs in the roasting dish. To be honest, it looked like a dog’s dinner.
‘It’ll be grand once it’s cooked and covered in gravy,’ I said. ‘I’m all over the place this morning. And you’re not looking too sharp yourself. You almost put the crumble topping on the broccoli. You thought I didn’t notice, didn’t you?’
‘But I have an excuse.’
‘You do? What’s that?’
‘Oh, Zoë.’ Theatrically, Robbie wrapped his arms around his thin shoulders. ‘I’m smitten. Properly smitten, with a bloke who came round mine last night. He’s called Rex. Isn’t that just the most amazing name ever? He’s older than me, right up against the upper limit, a whole thirty-two. But when has age ever been a barrier to true love?’
I could have pointed out several situations in which it would be just that, but I didn’t want to dim his enthusiasm – and besides, I found I was dying to hear more. Not least to deflect Robbie’s thoughts away from the fact that I was, indeed, all over the place.
‘Steady on. You can’t be in love when you’ve only seen him once.’
‘But I can! You just know, don’t you, when you just click with somebody.’
Did I know, now? I wasn’t sure I knew anything; my heart and my mind felt like they’d been put through a mixer on high speed.
‘Go on then. Tell me all about sex with Rex.’
Robbie giggled. ‘I know, right? How could someone called that be anything other than hot AF in the sack? But there’s so much more to it. It was like we really connected. He…’
He carried on, and I listened, peeling potatoes and trying not to allow my gaze to stray upwards, beyond the extractor fan to the ceiling, wishing it was made of glass so I could see through it, into my flat.
When I’d left it that morning, Jude had been in the shower.
We’d walked to the station together – or rather, he’d walked and I’d hobbled, declining his kind offer of a piggyback because, well, I wanted to salvage what scraps of dignity I could – and boarded a train together. After I’d texted Dani to check she was okay, we’d shared the rest of the water from his water bottle and the rest of a pack of nuts and raisins he’d found in his backpack, and we’d talked.
He told me he was a vegan, just like me. His parents were divorced, just like mine. He’d even grown up in a nondescript small town about forty miles from the nondescript small town where I grew up. He’d travelled around Europe after dropping out of uni, just like me.
It was the weirdest thing, like meeting my own shadow. We got back to the flat, stopping on the way at Craft Fever to buy some beers (he liked cucumber saison, obviously, because it was my favourite), and after I’d cleaned up my knees we decided we were both starving, so I made us beans on toast, explaining that all the proper cooking I did was in the pub downstairs, and my kitchen wasn’t equipped with much more than a microwave and a toaster.
The flat felt even smaller than usual with him there. It wasn’t that he was particularly big – he wasn’t; he was lean and graceful, and only a bit above average height. It was more that moving around the flat, and around him, made me super-conscious of not wanting to touch him accidentally but very much wanting to touch him on purpose. Also, the bed seemed to have increased in size so it loomed hugely, there whenever I turned my head like it was following me around the place saying, ‘Come on. You’re going to end up here, you know. Get on with it.’