He considers it for a moment. ‘It’s one of those great mysteries, isn’t it?’
It’s very hard to remain on topic when my mind has other ideas and goes off into some strange fantasy realm about Jasper. It’s jarring to say the least. I’m not usually that fantasy realm kind of person. Quite possibly after all the upset I’ve faced, my brains have left the building and the system is running entirely on muscle memory. ‘What’s that?’
‘That whole debate about following the crowd. Is it settling down, or is it settling?’ He goes far away for a moment, as if the question is not really meant for me. When he snaps back, the dreamy-eyed gaze drops and he says, ‘Sorry. I just wonder why we can’t have the fairytale and still travel. Why do we have to give up the one part of us that gives us life? But it always ends up being a choice of this job or that relationship, never both.’
Jasper must be a bit of a hodophile too. By the sounds of it, his divorce had a lot to do with his career choices. And I relate. More than anyone probably.
When I consider his words, my chest tightens at the stone-cold truth of the matter. Did I settle because of pressure from every camp? To put roots down. To follow the crowd, like Freya, pregnant with baby number three. Even Rox, with her wild untameable nature, has a mortgage and recently adopted a rescue cat which shows a level of responsibility. Did I truly want that life too? Or did I feel compelled when Miles and my family and friends urged me to stay put? I can’t blame anyone, I’ve got my own mind, but did the power of suggestion weaken my resolve? Hard to tell.
Was I in love with the idea of love and not the reality? The thought gives me pause.
‘Sorry,’ he quickly adds. ‘I shouldn’t speak like that when you’ve just lost your husband.’ He gives that same sceptical moue, as if testing me. Does he know I’m lying about Miles plummeting into the next life, or is it something else? I’m convinced Sabrina believed me; either that or she’s very good at hiding behind her bubbly smile because she’s being paid to be kind.
All of this ruminating reminds me to be wary. Men in general have always let me down and so it’s best if I don’t get too friendly with Jasper. Or next minute he’ll be getting under my defences, being sweet, caring, interested. This is exactly how it started with Miles, and then boom – he yanked the rug out from under me. I absolutely cannot let anyone in until I’m on stronger footing. ‘And what about you?’ I train the spotlight back on Jasper, metaphorically at least, while Igor still has the camera light haloing above me like the Christmas angel I am not. ‘Do you travel often?’
He nods. ‘I’m a travel writer, so I’m always on the go. Makes it hard on relationships. According to my ex-wife Olivia, it’s the main reason we divorced. She says it’s impossible to love a man who’s never there. And I get that, I do, but trust goes a long way in relationships. Still, I wasn’t home enough and that is the crux of it.’
Ah – trust issues. Olivia started her relationship with the personal trainer while they were still married. It’s nice that Jasper doesn’t lay the blame squarely at her feet for cheating, but understands it was part of a bigger tapestry. Must’ve hurt though. ‘Has it been a theme with your relationships then? Your constant travelling for work is a problem?’
He smiles, gives me the full constellation of pearly whites. ‘Yeah, it’s been mentioned a fair bit in the past. I love my job, writing stories about far-flung places, but it takes a toll. As my forties creep closer, I want to find my person without giving up what I do. But it seems that’s a deal breaker in the end. Each and every time.’ There’s a hint of frustration in his voice. ‘How do I fix that without giving up a job that I’m passionate about? I’m beginning to think it’s just not possible and so here I am, writing a story about the Christmas itinerary for the Winter Wonderland Express.’ Ah, he’s been invited aboard to write about the adventure!
Just when I’m ready to keep him at arm’s length and am suspicious of his motives, he drops a truth bomb, showing his vulnerable side. Jasper and I have more in common than I’d first thought. And while he’s mostly upbeat, I sense his sadness at the crumbling of his marriage and the idea that he can’t have both a career and a long-term relationship. I’m sure his partner thinks he’s having a wild old time every time he does a story on location, but I presume it’s similar to my life, where it’s actually just a hard slog like any job with the added bonus of a new vista and place to explore. It’s not the same as travelling purely for fun with no work pressures.
‘You don’t ever give up the thing that gets you out of bed every day.’ My voice comes out more heated than I intended, but it can’t be helped. I don’t share with him that if my recent experiences are anything to go by, changing who you are to fit the mould is a huge step backwards and will only end in tears. ‘My family and friends treat my travels almost as a frivolous pursuit. As if I’m getting something out of my system. And when you hear something enough, you start to believe you’re the oddity, the one who is doing life wrong. People don’t understand the need to roam, do they? It’s one of the biggest issues for me – they question what I’m running from, as if there’s a solid reason, some secret that propels me to be on the move. As if it’s unnatural not to want the house, the car, the two point four kids.’
He turns to me with something like wonder in his eyes. ‘That’s exactly it, Aubrey. I feel like I’m the anomaly when really it’s not that unusual these days, the way technology has opened up the world for those who can work remotely as long as there’s an internet connection.’
‘Yeah. It really has.’ The rise in numbers of digital nomads is huge, especially in countries with a low cost of living. It might not be for everyone, but it’s an option for those who want to see a bit of the world instead of the inside of a commercial or corporate building.
‘Do you think your marriage would have survived if you’d wanted to up sticks and live abroad again?’
When I put this question to Miles, he always dodged it, swept it away, and to be fair, I didn’t press either. Perhaps neither of us wanted to face facts that there’s no way Miles would live abroad and give up the stability of home. Would that have eventually soured our marriage?
One of us would be sacrificing their dream. But who would that have been?
‘I guess I’ll never know.’
Jasper and I lapse into an awkward silence.
A minute or two later the photographer says, ‘You’re all done. It’s so much easier to take nice photos when you’re not talking.’
Wow. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the photographer is suffering a pang of jealousy. If only she knew the truth – that I barely know Jasper and in reality I’m dealing with a lot more than a bad photo or two.
‘Yikes, passive aggressive or what,’ Katya mutters under her breath.
‘I better—’ I say.
‘I’m going to—’ Jasper blushes. Huh. I didn’t peg him for the blushing type.
The silence hangs, yet we stand frozen, staring into the abyss of each other’s eyes. My pulse is thrumming, as if my body is trying to alert me. But alert me to what? That I’ve never felt this kind of attraction to a guy before? The fleeting thought feels like such a disservice to MIA Miles, somehow. Besides, attraction is only superficial. I need to put some space between me and this man mountain, because he’s not good for my health.
This must be some weird rebound urge and my poor distressed mind hasn’t got the memo that weird rebound urges are always best avoided. Even thinking lusty thoughts is a betrayal to what I believed I had with Miles, and so soon in the piece! Yeah sure, Miles doesn’t deserve my consideration, but the sanctity of what we had should mean I cannot move on this quickly. Isn’t that so? And there I have my answer. This isn’t real – this is simply the broken part of me, the abandoned bride, looking for some kind of validation that I’m still worthy of love, and Jasper happened along vibrating with rebound-candidate energy. It’s best if I avoid him at all costs.
I go to pivot just as there’s a shove in my back that propels me directly into Jasper’s arms. I turn my head to catch the culprit, but there’s no one there. Gah, will he think I’m a stage-four clinger, catapulting towards him like some kind of desperado?
‘God, sorry. I’m sure someone pushed me…’ My hands find their way to his chest, I can feel the thrum of his heart through the fabric of his jumper. It beats staccato like mine. Probably because out of nowhere I flew at him like some lovestruck idiot.
Katya gives me a cat-that-got-the-cream smile. So here we have our culprit. I glare at her for good measure and step out from the warmth of his arms. He really does give good hugs – is there anything the man lacks? Even his ego seems to be within the normal range, and shouldn’t it be bigger? Next minute he’s going to tell me he donates to dog rescue centres and helps little old ladies cross the road.
