‘Mum and Dad having their first solo date night since baby,’ I guessed. The dark circles beneath their eyes spoke of sleepless nights and 3 a.m. feeds, but the way their faces melted as the man flicked through photo after photo of a dark-haired, chubby-cheeked baby on his phone told of a love only a parent can truly comprehend.
‘And right now, she’s seriously doubting her mother-in-law’s ability to keep their tiny human alive,’ Joe added as we watched the man answer an incoming call, mouthing something silently to the woman before she grabbed the phone from him, her free hand performing some sort of frantic rocking motion in the air as she spoke to whoever was on the other end of the line.
We were sat in our usual spot on the back row of the top deck,me next to the window on the left-hand side, Joe to my right. It was the perfect vantage point from which to play our favourite game. The one we always played whenever we were on the bus, or sat outside a cafe, taking it in turns to pick a stranger and write their life story.
‘OK, my go.’ Joe’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses as they scanned the top deck of the bus, his lips pressing together in that way they did whenever he was concentrating on something. He inclined his head in the direction of a young girl who’d just emerged from the stairwell. ‘What about her?’
My eyes swivelled to the front of the bus, watching the girl lurch unsteadily towards a vacant seat as the bus pulled away, grabbing onto a pole to stop herself from falling. She glanced shyly around as though to check no one had seen this embarrassing series of events, her cheeks flushed with teenage humiliation. She couldn’t have been older than sixteen, her rainbow-beaded phone strap swaying back and forth with the rhythm of the bus as she opened the camera app, her face filling the screen as she carefully applied a fresh coat of lip gloss.
‘First date. Boy she’s had a crush on forever at school finally asked her out. Sits behind him in maths class – no, English,’ Joe auto-corrected, nodding his head approvingly as though that were the better fit.
‘She lied to her parents about where she was going tonight, told them she was heading to a friend’s house to study,’ I pitched in, watching her remove an unseasonably thick turtleneck jumper and stuff it in her bag, revealing a black, lacy top with delicate spaghetti straps underneath.
‘Do you remember that time we said we were having a sleepover at Jacob and Alice’s but instead we camped out on the beach?’
I grinned, turning to look up at him. ‘You mean the night I almost died of hypothermia?’
‘Gah, it was romantic,’ Joe maintained.
‘It was February and you pressured me into going skinny-dipping.’
Joe raised an eyebrow. ‘Hey, I don’t remember you complaining when I suggested that particular activity. Besides, I warmed you up nicely afterwards, didn’t I?’
My cheeks reddened as I remembered that night. Our first time. All fumbling fingers and shy glances andis this OKs?as our goose-pimpled bodies explored one another under the light of the moon, the waves lapping hungrily around our waists, before we zipped ourselves into a single sleeping bag, Joe’s breath warm against my ear.
My phone buzzed in my jeans and I wiggled it out, a text from Jacob waiting for me.
You almost here???
‘Ah, the classic triple question mark. Someone’s in trouble,’ Joe teased, reading the message over my shoulder.
‘It’s your fault I’m late,’ I huffed, pursing my lips as I tapped out a reply to Jacob. I’d been ready half an hour before Google Maps told me I needed to leave, but I’d paced up and down the hallway for over 45 minutes waiting for Joe to show. Except he didn’t. It was the first time I’d been home alone that Joe hadn’t appeared at all. A fact I was trying really,reallyhard not to think about.
‘Where were you, anyway?’ I whispered accusingly, hitting send and sliding the phone back into my pocket.
‘Oh, you know, places to go, people to see,’ Joe said light-heartedly, stretching his legs out in front, one ankle crossed over the other.
‘You’re a figment ofmyimagination, the only person you should be seeing is me,’ I muttered through clenched teeth,irritated he’d not been showing up as frequently the past week.
‘Says the woman on her way to a date.’ I knew Joe was just teasing, trying to make light of the situation as he always did. But it struck a nerve.
‘It isnota date,’ I said coolly. ‘There’s a whole group of us going. What else would you have me do on a Saturday night? Sit at home waiting for you to show up?’
The regret was instant, cold and sour-tasting in my mouth. I pressed my lips tightly together, but it was too late. The words were already out there.
‘Ouch,’ Joe breathed, his glasses slipping down his nose as his eyebrows shot the other way. I sighed, pressing my fingers to my temples.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. It’s just—’ I paused, my fingernail scratching at the fabric of the seat, ‘—I just miss you, that’s all.’
Joe closed his eyes briefly, his jaw clenching as though my admission had caused him actual physical pain – even though I knew that to be impossible.
‘I miss you too,’ he whispered eventually, his head hovering a centimetre above my shoulder.
I glanced out of the window. We were outside the big M&S on Western Road; just three more stops. I watched as an elderly couple crossed the street, arms linked, hands clutched tightly together. They were wearing one layer too many in that way people of a certain age often do, the map of wrinkles on their faces telling the most incredible story. One of laughter and happiness and past worries, all of which they’d shared together. The woman produced a packet of Werther’s Original from her handbag, the man automatically reaching for one in a silent exchange so seamless it looked as though it had been performed a hundred times. It made me hopeful that the world had been kind to them, had allowed two young people who had fallenin love many decades ago a lifetime in each other’s company. I wondered how couples got to that age unscathed? Happy. Together. Their arms still intertwined. They were the lucky ones, I guess.
‘Excuse me, is anyone sitting there?’
I turned to see a middle-aged woman laden down with shopping bags on either arm, her fringe stuck to her dewy-looking forehead. She was staring hopefully at the empty seat next to me. The one that just five seconds ago, Joe had occupied. The hole in my chest widened some more.
