‘Early drinks? Now you’re talking!’ She runs her fingers through my hair and kisses my earlobe before heading off for a shower.
With Alice on my mind, I wonder if it might be hard to focus when I arrive at the studio. She’d very sweetly packed me off with the last cinnamon bun ‘in case you need a mid-morning boost’ and I’d been so touched by her thoughtfulness. Spotify playlist on, I settle onto the stool by my easel, fully prepared to end up with sketches of Alice on the paper in front of me, rather than the commission I’m meant to be working on. The freckle on the inside of her left thigh. The scar just above her belly button. The way her chestnut brown hair crashes like waves over her body when we’re in bed.
Obviously all of the above has been running through my mind on repeat, but it seems to be helping rather than hindering my creativity. Now charcoal sketches are strewn across the floor at my feet, paintbrushes dipped in colours I don’t usually use by the sink. When I finally check the time I realise I’m only an hour off our date and I definitely want to change out of my paint-splattered clothes before I see her again, so I dash home for a shower.
It’s a mess in here. I’ve been meaning to start properly renovating the house ever since I bought it earlier in the year but finding the time isn’t easy with so much to do in the studio. I pull on some fresh clothes and am about to leave the house when I feel my phone vibrating in the back pocket of my jeans. I wonder if it’s Alice after directions to the bar.
But the screen is lit up with a different name.
Clara.
I frown. It’s been a while since she’s called now. I figured she got the message when I’d ignored her the few times she rang in the days after we split, leaving her WhatsApp messages unread and deleting her voicemails.
What does she want now?
I shake my head. It doesn’t matter. Automatically my thumb goes to decline the call and I put my phone on silent, not wanting any disruptions.
Theo’s standing at the door of the bar when I arrive, greeting people with a huge smile across his face.
‘Zach, it’s good to see you! It’s been a while.’
Theo and I used to work together at a coffee shop in Sharrow before he set up his own café and my art started taking off, meaning I didn’t need to work the extra job.
‘Congratulations, man,’ I clap him on the back. ‘A successful café and now a bar, too. The empire grows!’
‘Hah. Not quite an empire, yet. Give me time though. Come on in and take a look around.’ He leads me inside and I take in the exposed timber floors and Scandi-style tables, teamed with plush furniture and deep blue walls.
‘It looks really good,’ I say.
Theo smiles. ‘I’ve reserved a table for you. Drinks are on the house for old friends. I’ll come and catch up again later!’
I pick up the cocktail list and entertain myself by wondering which one Alice will like the best. In the end I go for something called a Hugo, made using elderflower, prosecco, club soda and mint leaves, because it sounds botanical and I now know how much she loves growing things in her allotment.
Back from the bar, I settle into my seat and smile as Theo masterfully does his meet and greet thing with the rest of the guests. I know for a fact that Theo isn’t the kind of guy who’d feel awkward if he was sat waiting for a date in a busy bar, like I am right now. He’s got the same easy confidence as Alice. It’s been a while now, the prosecco in the cocktails I ordered no longer fizzing. Where is she? I hope she’s okay.
Remembering I left my phone on silent as I dashed out of the house earlier, I pull it out to check if she’s messaged.
And that’s when I spot them.
Four missed calls and a voicemail from my ex.
Clara was never in touch this often even when we were together so it’s out of character for her to call so much, which makes me worry it could be an emergency. I reluctantly press play on the voicemail.
‘Zach, hi, it’s me …’ I bristle at the sound of her voice, once so familiar to me. It acts like a time machine, taking me away from my life now and back to the days when it was Clara and me. I listen. ‘I know this is all out of the blue and I’m sorry to contact you like this. You’ve made it clear that you don’t want to hear from me and I understand that. I just had to get in touch because there’s something you need to know. I’m sorry to tell you this over voice message but if you won’t pick up the phone there’s no other way. So here it is I guess. Zach, I’m engaged. I know it’s soon—’
I drop my phone onto the table, not wanting to hear any more. My mind feels like it’s going at a thousand miles an hour, thoughts coming in and out so fast that I can’t grab onto them for long enough to process anything.
She’s engaged?
I should clear my head, get some fresh air. I should not give this any more thought. Taking a sip of my cocktail, I try to get myself back into the here and now but it’s not easy. Like a dick, I pick up my phone and scroll through Instagram until I find Clara’s profile, which I’d long-since unfollowed.
There it is.
A typically stylish black and white photo, but this one’s of her. She never normally shares photos of herself on social media. Or, shared, I correct myself. I don’t know her any more. It’s an image of Clara leaning into him, the ring on her finger sparkling more than the lights in the background.
I seek out the caption even though I know I shouldn’t.
Starting the week with a spring in my step! This weekend I said yes.
