We bundle in the door, all speaking at once, full of happiness and emotions.
It’s the core family, along with Salma, Harry, plus a handful of Great-Aunts thrown in for good measure. Clara is delighting in torturing them about Harry – after all, the lasttime they saw these two, they were faking an engagement. But there’s definitely nothing fake about all the kissing and hand holding today. Meanwhile Buffy is calling the Great-Auntsslutsin a really casual and upsetting way.
And I’m still crying, silent tears rolling down my face as we take our seats.
‘This way, sluts!’ Buffy calls to the stragglers now, and I catch several Great-Aunt tuts.
I fiddle with my paper napkin, trying not to think about things.
It’s been a really lovely day and I’ve barely even given a second thought to E – to Eliot.
Barely a thought.
Somesmallthoughts, but few and far between.
OK, a handful of possibly larger thoughts, but it definitely hasn’t affected how special the day has been. These tears areallhappy tears and definitely not for him. This is joy. Pure joy for my wonderful, kind, generous mum who has always put everyone else first, and has – at last – focused on her own happiness. I look over at Angela as everyone settles into seats, making small talk about the gorgeousness of the day. Mum has found someone really special and I couldn’t be more thrilled for her.
The waiter loudly asks if anyone wants anything and we all ignore him, still too busy talking excitedly. I let out a small sob, and beside me, Clara leans in. ‘Are you OK, Jim-Jems?’
‘Yep!’ I say in a low, strangled voice and Salma joins us, crouching down by my chair. ‘These are all happy tears!’ Iinsist to their concerned faces. ‘Everything has worked out so perfectly. Mum and Angela are married, you and Harry are in love.’ I gesture towards Harry, who is also watching our exchange from across the table, his brow furrowed. ‘No, really!’ I insist. ‘Please stop all looking so concerned, I’m fine! Everything has worked out how it’s supposed to. The mountaineering memoir I’ve been working on is finished now, too. I just had an email from my boss to say he’s really pleased and submitted it to the publisher – so no more meetings with sexy Aarav!’ I try to laugh, which feels very strange, as tears continue to fall. ‘And the whole, silly note thing…’ I wave my hand dismissively. ‘It was mad! I don’t know why I got so obsessed. I accused Clara of falling in love with a fantasy when she was chasing that Milo actor around London, but I’ve been doing the same thing!’ I pause, realizing how true this is. ‘This guy Eliot, whoever he was, and our conversations, it was all just another fantasy world to hide in. It’s time I stopped writing notes to imaginary men and start living in the real world. I’m going to be braver and stronger and experience life outside of fiction and novels.’ I take a deep breath, the tears drying up at last. ‘I need to stop re-reading the same old tattered book from the library and get out there. It’s time to live my life.’ I bark a laugh and add, ‘Maybe I’ll even get on Tinder.’
Clara and Salma are silent for a moment, regarding me. And then Salma takes a deep breath. ‘No.’
I glance up at her. ‘Huh?’
‘No,’ she says again, her tone mild. ‘Nope, nah, negative.’She glares at me. ‘I’m not letting you give up on this.’ She pauses. ‘Look, I agree to some extent that you should get out there more and experience life. But we’re already going to do that! Haven’t we already started talking about travelling to Denmark in the autumn?’ She frowns. ‘But there’s nothing wrong with re-reading books and enjoying a fantasy.And,’ she exaggerates her words, ‘Eliot was not a fantasy! Sure, you don’t know what he looks like, but you guys exchanged messages for – what? – months! You got to know each other and shared things. He told you stuff about his life and his values and his family.’ She inhales sharply. ‘In fact, look, surely we could find him from clues in the notes! He’s a big library fan, right? We know that much, maybe we could break into the library computers to find his surname. Or get Clara to sneak a look when she’s working there!’
Harry stands up. ‘MACK!’ he shouts and we all look at him, startled. He lowers his voice, hissing now, ‘What if it’s that guy Mack? I’ve heard you guys talking about him a lot in the last few months. What if it’s him?’
I gasp. ‘He did start working there around the same time E began checking outToo Good to Be True.’
Clara, Salma and I regard each other, wide-eyed and silent for a minute, before erupting into the wildest peals of laughter.
Harry looks put out. ‘Why are you all laughing? It sounds pretty possible to me.’
‘You don’t know him,’ Clara shrieks through tears. ‘You only met him at kickboxing, which was not enough to fullyenjoy the Mack experience. He’s awful, Haz. Sure, I mean, he has his moments of being fake nice on occasion, but mostly he’s an absolute, irredeemable arse.’
‘He really is!’ I agree wholeheartedly. ‘Honestly, mate, I’ve searched so hard for a secretly decent person under all that broodiness, but Mack’s just a dick. There have been moments where I thought maybe he had a sad, damaged past or a complicated present, but nope, I don’t think so. I reckon some people are just plain old arseholes – and he’s one of them!’
Salma is first to stop howling. ‘Guys, I have to confess something.’ She looks mortified. ‘I shagged him! I was seduced by all those brooding black clothes and sexy sullen glares. We did it one time and it was awful. Lasted three seconds and he asked me to leave immediately afterwards – but not before trying to get me involved in a multi-level marketing scheme.’
‘Nooooooo!’ I scream, as Clara squeals with delight.
‘A multi-level marketing scheme?!’ Harry looks horrified as Salma nods.
‘Yep,’ she says, enjoying the horror she’s inflicting. ‘He ended up telling me how he’s really into bitcoin and recently lost his elderly dad’s savings on one of those betting apps.’
‘Oh my god,’ I breathe out. ‘That’s why he always seemed so upset at the library, fiddling about on his phone or computer so much. And why he has a second job at a wedding cake shop!’ I glance over at Mum and Angela down the end of the table. They’re joyfully feeding each other red velvet cake. Bless them.
‘Please don’t sleep with any more dickheads like him,’Clara implores Salma. ‘Honestly, I can’t recommend a nice guy highly enough.’ She and Harry beam at each other and Salma laughs warmly.
‘Don’t worry, I can safely say I’m never going near Mack again.’ She glances anxiously at me and I nod encouragingly. ‘Actually, Jemma set me up on a date with her sexy mountaineer Aarav last week. We had a great time. We’re going out again this weekend.’
There are excitable gasps around the table and I grin with delight, feeling proud of my part in this budding new romance.
Salma waves away happy questions, zeroing back in on me. ‘But seriously, we are all smart, inquisitive people who can figure this out. Who is Eliot?’ She considers this. ‘That penultimate note – the one where he told you his first name – had plenty of info about his life.’ She ticks facts off. ‘Name, Eliot, a drama club kid, Mum’s a librarian, he has a brother called Austen.’ She trails off, realizing this isn’t that much. ‘There must be loads more in the rest of your notes, surely? We must be able to put this together.’
I consider this. Is she right? Should I keep trying to find him? I give myself an internal pat down. The feelings I have for him doseemreal. I like him, I really do. I loved speaking to him. I feel terrible that I’ve hurt him. Imisshim.
