‘Somewhere far, far away. So that it would be very difficult for me to visit you.’
‘I’d like to visit New Zealand,’ I say. ‘I’ve always wanted to go there. Very far and also very expensive to get to.’
‘New Zealand it is.’
‘Another good thing about New Zealand is the time difference. It would probably be very difficult to call me from the party. I’d probably be asleep. That’s why I’m recording the video.’
‘Even more perfect,’ Tom approves.
‘And then,’ I say, because utterly, utterly insanely, the thought of our fake break-up makes me feel a little melancholy, and I’d rather say it myself than have to listen to Tom saying it, ‘I’m guessing that while I’m away the distance will push us apart. We won’t have any big bust-up, no-one will cheat on anyone, we’ll just realise we’ve drifted apart.’
Tom nods and we kind of stare at each other for a few seconds, and then he nods again and says, ‘Yeah, that’s definitely the least bad way to finish a relationship. Sad, but just the way it is.’
We stare at each other a bit more, and then Tom suddenly does a weirdly big intake of breath and then says, ‘Itissad when relationships finish just because of circumstance. So it’s a good job that this is all fake.’
‘Yes, ha, ha,’ I say, very over-jollily, ‘a very good job.’ Hmm. I think I might have sounded a bit peculiar there.
‘Yep.’ Tom takes a really long glug of his beer and then looks at me. ‘So when would you like to do the video? Maybe outside somewhere? Maybe next to the river?’
‘The river’s a good idea. Romantic.’
‘Yeah.’
Our conversation is gentle and fun and absolutelylovelywhile we finish our drinks, and then we get up to leave.
I really like walking (limping) across the pub with Tom just behind me. It makes me feel as though – at this moment – he’smine. As in, as though we’re together. Just for this moment.
The door’s heavy and he reaches over my head and helps me to pull it open, and I like that too.
It’s still very – well, almost – romantic, as we wander at my hobbling speed along the road under the railway arches and then over to the South Bank. As we walk, we discuss very earnestly and in great detail (turns out Tom knows this area as well as I do) exactly where I should stand when we do the video. Tom’s grandmother loves Central London but isn’t as mobile as she was and isn’t really able to travel into town, so we need to get the background right.
‘Surely it’s obvious,’ I say. ‘We need to include the best night view in the world.’
‘The bestcitynight view,’ Tom clarifies.
I nod.
‘Waterloo Bridge at night looking up towards St Paul’s,’ he says.
I nod again. ‘Of course. Maybe we should record each line of the song in a different place. Maybe some of the bustle around the London Eye and then panning across to Big Ben as well, because who doesn’t love a Big Ben shot.’
‘Ormaybe we do an intro together, maybe in front of the London Eye. Then you sing the whole song in front of Big Ben. And then we close it with a together thing on the bridge. She’ll like that. She used to bring me into town for dinner when I was little and we’d stop on the bridge and she’d tell me how my grandfather proposed to her from there.’
I stop walking and look at him. ‘Wecan’tdo a video of us from there, then. Knowing that we’redefinitelygoing to break up, which she willdefinitelyfind out. It could tarnish her Waterloo Bridge memory.’
‘Oh my God, you’re right. I’m an idiot. What if…’ He frowns for a moment and then his brow clears, in aping-I-have-it way. ‘Maybe we never break up. Just for her. Or maybe for everyone else. We just have a long-distance relationship forever.’
‘Erm.’ It’s quite hard to know how to refer to someone’s relatives’ mortality but it’sveryrelevant. No. I can’t do it. I can’t say out loud:well, maybe it’ll work until your grandmother…no, I don’t even want to think it. I’ll just point out that while it might be feasible with an older relative (although who knows; a ninety-year-old could easily live another ten-plus years), with his younger relatives this really won’t work. ‘You can’t lie to your sister forever, can you? Like if you have arealrelationship – with Lola, or you meet someone else – how do you split up with New Zealand me? Without looking like a total arse? You’d have to tell your family that I was staying in New Zealand, and you’d have to keep your new partner hidden for a bit so you wouldn’t look like you’d been cheating on me. It would be very, very complicated.’
‘I mean, I don’t think Lola’s going to be beating down my door any time soon. And I don’t think I’m going to be meeting anyone else either,’ Tom says. I try very hard not to care that he clearly has no thoughts whatsoever in his head aboutmeas a person he might meet. I shouldn’t have any abouthimeither.
‘But you’re right,’ he continues gloomily. ‘We should never have started this. But since wedid, I feel like we should cross the splitting-up bridge when we come to it.’
‘I feel like there’s a pun in there to do with Waterloo Bridge just waiting to jump out.’
‘Yeah.’
We both stand and think for a few moments.
