My voice echoed down the empty street, rebounding off dustbins and dark shopfronts. Joe stopped suddenly, his chin falling to his chest, before turning slowly beneath the soft glow of the streetlight.
‘Why .?.?. won’t .?.?. you .?.?. just .?.?.wait?’ I panted angrily, doubling over to catch my breath.
‘Wait for what?’ he asked simply.
‘Forme, Joe!’ My voice cracked and I swayed unsteadily on my feet, my knees threatening to give way. ‘Don’t leave me,’ I whimpered, my voice now nothing more than a whisper.
Joe looked up at the night sky, his chin angled towards the stars as he blinked quickly, furiously behind his glasses. And then he was marching towards me, closing the gap between us in six long strides until we were mere centimetres apart.
‘Jenny, look at me,’ he said fiercely. I lifted my head, craning it upwards at a familiar angle to stare into his cornflower-blue eyes that were almost electric behind his tortoiseshell frames. ‘Iwillneverleave you.Never,’ he repeated slowly, closing his eyes as though the very idea was too painful to harbour even for a moment. ‘I will look for you in every lifetime, Jenny Thompson, in this world and the next, and I will love you there. But you need to stop running fromthislife. You’re constantly running – from your emotions, from your friends, from any possible chance of something good, of somethinggreat.’ He didn’t say Luca’s name. He didn’t have to. The meaning was clear.
‘It wasn’t enough time,’ I sobbed. ‘You and me, we didn’t get enough time.’
Joe’s eyes crinkled at the edges. ‘No amount of time ever would be.’
I could feel the tears running hot and silent down my cheeks. Joe’s fingers twitched by his side as though he was fighting the urge to reach out and wipe them away. My shoulders slumped inwards, the hollow part in my chest aching like it had never ached before. I nodded weakly, my throat too thick to allow any words through. My gaze fell to the pavement, counting each cobblestone in turn as I waited for my breathing to slow, working up the courage to confront the very thing that I’d been running from for so long. I reached fifty-six before I could speak.
‘I don’t know what this feeling is.’ My voice was small, afraid. An image of Luca growing stronger and more defined inside my head. Those liquid chocolate eyes. That black mass of hair, the curls at the edges just begging to be twisted through someone’s fingertips. Those giant hands, permanently ink-stained from scrawling lyrics about heartbreak and new beginnings on the back of used envelopes and takeaway menus.
‘It’s love,’ Joe said gently, his smile unwavering as he coaxed my gaze back up. ‘Or the beginnings of it, at least. So, what are you doing still talking to me?’
My teeth ground together, pain ricocheting through my jaw, but it was only when another kind of pain found its way to myheart that I dared to breathe. Dared to speak.
‘I’m scared,’ I whispered, the admission rushing from my mouth in a single exhale.
‘Scared of what?’
‘Everything!’ I blurted out, wincing as the alleyway repeated my answer back to me. I was scared of fucking everything. Of what might happen if I let Luca in, my already-punctured heart just one blow away from shattering into a million irreparable pieces. Of what would happen if I didn’t. Scared of turning the page and starting again when I thought I’d be twenty chapters deep at this point in my life. But most of all, scared of losing Joe.
‘I miss you so much,’ I sobbed, the tears coming thick and fast now. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and bury my face in the scratchy wool of his jumper, to feel the warmth of his body against mine.
‘I know.’ Joe smiled simply, his dimples cutting into his cheeks. ‘And I miss you more than you could possibly imagine. But it’s OK to be scared. Fear is good. Fear means you’ve still got things in your life you’re not willing to lose.’ His words hit somewhere deep inside of me, my pulse quickening at the thought of losing Luca. ‘Don’t be afraid to love, Jenny. Love hard. Scream it from the flipping rooftops, because it’s what makes the ride worthwhile. You’re never going to lose me, Jenny, I’ll always be here.’ His hand hovered over my heart, my skin tingling beneath his palm as I let his words sink in. I don’t know how long we stood there in the dim glow of the streetlight, the air silent and still as though the world had stopped spinning, allowing us this moment for as long as possible.
My breath hitched at the back of my throat as Joe took a single step backwards, and my heart gave an almighty thump for what was about to happen. Because how do you look at the person you love and tell yourself it’s time to let them go? Joe took another step back and then another, his boots eerily silentagainst the cobblestones as he moved further and further away from me, his eyes never leaving my face. I faltered, my right foot stumbling forwards to try and lessen the gap between us.
‘I’ll always be here,’ Joe repeated calmly, raising his hand to his heart with a reassuring smile. I mirrored him, my heart pounding beneath my palm as I held it to my chest, tears flooding down my cheeks. And then he turned and disappeared into the night, the darkness swallowing him whole. I knew that would be the last time I’d see him. And although the constant, dull ache that had been there ever since Joe’s death intensified somewhat, I did not crumble.
I knew what I had to do. What I wanted to do. I just prayed I wasn’t already too late.
‘Come on,’ I growled at the ancient row of buzzers, jabbing my finger at each one in turn in the hope that someone, anyone, would answer.
‘Yes?’ crackled a voice through the speaker. It was female. Old. That distinctive air of permanent irritation I recognised instantly.
I grimaced. ‘Hi, Mrs Norris, it’s Jenny. Jenny Thompson.’
‘Jenny Thompson?’ She said the words impossibly slowly, pronouncing each syllable with the speed of a snail.
‘Yes, from number 4. Can you buzz me in, please?’
‘I thought you moved out?’
I bit my tongue, bashing my head repeatedly against the stone wall. The woman is convinced it’s still 1942, and yet she remembers that tiny, insignificant detail?
‘Well yes, I did move out, but—’
‘Suchan inconvenience,’ she drawled, a dramatic sigh wheezing through the intercom. As though my whole world being turned upside down was incredibly tiresome – for her. ‘You know, as the building’s longest resident, I would haveappreciated some notice, Jennifer. The new chap up there has people coming and going at all hours.Music studentsapparently,’ she scoffed, somehow making the words sound dirty. ‘Honestly, does he think I was born yesterday?’
‘Can you just buzz me in, please?’ I shouted, losing what dwindling patience I had left. She was ruining my end-of-the-movie-running-through-the-airport-to-stop-the-guy-getting-on-the-plane moment.
