Nora nodded.
‘So, did you?’
‘I, um, gave it up. Was more into music ... at the time. Then life happened.’
‘So what do you do now?’
‘I’m ... between things.’
‘Got anyone, then? Bloke? Kids?’
Nora shook her head. Wishing it would fall off. Her own head. Onto the floor. So she never had to have a conversation with a stranger ever again.
‘Well, don’t hang about. Tick-tock tick-tock.’
‘I’mthirty-five.’ She wished Izzy was here. Izzy never put up with any of this kind of shit. ‘And I’m not sure I want—’
‘Me and Jake were like rabbits but we got there. Two little terrors. But worth it, y’know? I just feelcomplete. I could show you some pictures.’
‘I get headaches, with ... phones.’
Dan had wanted kids. Nora didn’t know. She’d been petrified of motherhood. The fear of a deeper depression. She couldn’t look after herself, let alone anyone else.
‘Still in Bedford, then?’
‘Mm-hm.’
‘Thought you’d be one who got away.’
‘I came back. My mum was ill.’
‘Aw, sorry to hear that. Hope she’s okay now?’
‘I better go.’
‘But it’s still raining.’
As Nora escaped the shop, she wished there were nothing but doors ahead of her, which she could walk through one by one, leaving everything behind.
How to Be a Black Hole
Seven hours before she decided to die, Nora was in free fall and she had no one to talk to.
Her last hope was her former best friend Izzy, who was over ten thousand miles away in Australia. And things had dried up between them too.
She took out her phone and sent Izzy a message.
Hi Izzy, long time no chat. Miss you, friend. Would be WONDROUS to catch up. X
She added another ‘X’ and sent it.
Within a minute, Izzy had seen the message. Nora waited in vain for three dots to appear.
She passed the cinema, where a new Ryan Bailey film was playing tonight. A corny cowboy-romcom calledLast Chance Saloon.
Ryan Bailey’s face seemed to always knowdeep and significant things. Nora had loved him ever since she’d watched him play a brooding Plato inThe Athenianson TV, and since he’d said in an interview that he’d studied philosophy. She’d imagined them having deep conversations about Henry David Thoreau through a veil of steam in his West Hollywood hot tub.
‘Go confidently in the direction of your dreams,’ Thoreau had said. ‘Live the life you’ve imagined.’
