But before Saturday’s small yet significant haircut transformation, I had a Thursday evening antenatal class, and that meant another ninety minutes trying to act as though seeing Jonah hadn’t tipped my world on its axis. He’d dropped his sister off for the Monday Bloomers, and Nicky had paired her up with Petra, the fifteen-year-old from the Green House. It turned out Ellis used to have Petra’s current social worker, who was an interesting character, to say the least, with no time for new-fangled things like risk assessments or paperwork. This resultedin Ellis uttering several sentences, as well as a sarcastic joke, which was progress.
I had so many questions about her and her little brother, Billy. I had even more about Jonah. But while mentioning that I’d briefly known her as a child might be a positive way for us to connect, Baby Bloomers was a place of fresh starts. I wasn’t about to bring up her past, let alone say that I was part of it. I knew my questions would have to wait.
I thought I’d be ready to see him. Every time the door opened, I made sure I focussed on whoever I was chatting to, or making a drink for, rather than swivelling my eyes over to see if it was him. But that old feeling had started creeping in – the one where the room felt duller, more dismal without him in it. Every nerve was braced to see him. Hear him. Smell him – because although the whiff of cigarettes had gone, he smelled as if he still wore the same brand of toiletries my parents had given him.
When he did arrive, I felt my whole face go stiff, mid smile, as one dad was showing me the lullaby playlist he’d made.
‘Hi, Jonah, Ellis!’ Nicky called, loud enough to ensure I heard. ‘You’ve just got time to grab a drink before we get started.’
I was by the refreshments table, and if I bent my head any lower over this guy’s phone, I’d knock it out of his hand with my nose. I didn’t know what I was doing, except behaving as irrationally as an infatuated teenager.
This wasn’t good.
About the same time Jonah added one sugar to his black coffee – three less than he used to dump in – I managed to straighten up. Turning around with my oh-so-casual, how-perfectly-pleasant-to-see-you smile at the exact same time he was moving towards me, either he, I or both of us – but probably just me – misjudged the distance and my arm knocked straight into his mug, splashing scalding hot coffee over both our hands.
I yelped, he swore, and as we both jumped back our eyes locked. For a precarious second we were teenagers again. I don’t know how long we stood there for, frozen in time, but it was long enough for my heart to collapse in on itself like a dying star, for my head to remember everything it had spent thirteen years trying to forget.
‘Here.’ A cold, damp cloth pressed onto my hand jerked me back into reality, and I caught Nicky’s knowing glance as she lifted the cloth off, quickly checked me for damage then gently pressed it back down again.
‘Stick it in cold water for twenty minutes,’ she said, before glancing over at Jonah, who was now mopping his hand with a tissue. ‘Both of you. I’ll do the icebreaker.’
I led Jonah into the back room, where I found two plastic tubs and started filling them with water.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I managed to mumble over the sound of the squeaky tap. ‘I’ve had a busy week and I’m all over the place.’
‘No, I’m sorry. It was my fault for practically sneaking up behind you. You couldn’t have known I was there.’
Oh, I’d have known if I’d been blindfolded and wearing ear-defenders.
‘Both our faults?’ I asked, offering him a tub.
We stood there, each of us holding onto the tub while he kept his eyes firmly on the water slopping about, but it was there, the hint of a smile I’d fallen in love with.
‘If that makes you feel better.’
I let go, picking up the other container and submerging my red-raw hand with a wince.
‘How’s yours looking?’ I asked.
‘It was only a quick splash. It’ll be fine. Are you okay?’
‘I think so.’
I was somehow both very okay and definitely not okay all at once. Time would tell which one won out.
I spent the rest of the evening trying to co-lead an antenatal class while avoiding looking at one member of the group the entire time, while also making sure that my sister didn’t spot me avoiding him. It was exhausting.
‘You need to invite him out for a drink,’ Nicky murmured into my ear while the parents-to-be were brainstorming different ways they coped with pain.
‘Who?’ I asked.
She simply raised one eyebrow.
‘What? We spoke about that already,’ I whispered, shaking my head vigorously. ‘I’m not interested!’
‘Maybe not romantically, but it’s clear there’s enough interest there to make it impossible for you to look in his third of the room. It’s hardly helping Ellis feel welcome. Invite him for a catch-up over a coffee, don’t tip it all over yourselves, ask a few questions, say what needs to be said and then you can finally move on. Or not.’
‘What do you mean, “finally”?’ It was hard to convey the extent of my pretend outrage when speaking so quietly. ‘“Or not”?’
