She laughs. ‘It really is.’
Given everything that’s happened – or rathernothappened – it’s odd how very mundane this seems. Two people meeting again.
Maybe it’s because we were meant to be. Maybe it’s like we’re just slotting into place together. Maybe that’s why it seems so peculiarly unremarkable given the facts.
But I’m just not as excited or as full of anticipation as you would expect at this point. I think I felt more excited and anticipatorybeforeI saw her.
‘I booked dinner,’ I say. I chose a restaurant on the other side of Waterloo from the places I’ve been with Nadia. Since I can’t tell her about this evening, I don’t really want to be reminded of her. And, also, it kind of feels slightly disloyal to go to the same place with both Nadia and Lola. As though I’m betraying both of them. Similarly, I’m really not loving being under the clock with Lola. Even though it was – originally – our place. It belongs to our group, the Waterloo Five, now.
‘Can’t wait.’ She slips her hand into mine as we begin to walk. Our paces adjust easily to each other, and, yes, it’s easy. Weirdly easy. But also weirdly… asexual, I suppose.
‘You have gorgeous hands,’ she purrs as we walk.
‘Ha. Thank you. You too.’ I nearly point out two pigeons scrapping over some bread and then remember that she is not Nadia and that she probably wouldn’t find it that funny.
We don’t chat that much on the way to the restaurant; it’s like we’re just enjoying being in each other’s company again. We don’t reallyneedto talk that much.
Although, no, wedoneed to talk, I think, as we’re seated. In fact, there’s a lot to say. A lot toask. And I really don’t want to spend time ordering drinks. I just want to be able to ask all my questions immediately.
I admire Nadia for having dived straight in after… that night… and having immediately texted what she wanted to say. I should do the same with Lola. Really, the only question iswhichquestion I should ask first.
Why did she contact me again back in June?
Why did she not turn up?
Why didn’t she reply to my message?
Why did she then reply immediately to this one?
How is she?
What’s she been doing?
Doesshe love me?
I open my mouth to begin, just as Lola says, ‘I was waiting for you to contact me again.’
I close my mouth and stare at her, before asking, ‘When?’
‘Now, silly.’
Thesillyis strangely… grating. No, it isn’t. It’s just that this is a weird situation. It’s like Christmas Day when you’re a kid. It takes such a long time to come that you can’t really believe on the day that you’re actuallyinit and it doesn’t always live up to expectations. And there areloadsof Christmas Days compared to this. One a year. And birthdays. So together that’s two a year. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And it’s been ten years and five very anxious months coming. So it isn’t surprising if things feel a little odd, and if we’re both behaving a little differently from usual.
I’ve been sitting justlookingat Lola for ages. And she’s looking at me, apparently waiting for me to speak.
‘So you were waiting for me to contact you again?’ I clarify. ‘Now? After the last time we were in touch in June?’
‘Yes.’
I look at Lola’s perfectly symmetrical features. I can’t help wondering whether she’s had lip fillers. I don’t think her mouth looked exactly like that ten years ago.
Then I think about Nadia’s lips and kissing them, and feel terrible, before pushing that thought away.
I look down at the menu and consider beginning to read it.
And then I look up again. We aren’t going to get anywhere if we can’t mention things. Really obvious, big things.
I can’t put it off by thinking about Lola’s face or reading the menu.
