‘Nope,’ I say. ‘Tower Bridge.’
‘You knew that all along,’ he says, accusingly. He takes his camera, focusing with more intent. He bends down on a knee, pointing his camera up. I wish I could see things the way he does.
‘I’m not an expert, but I am from here,’ I say, grabbing him by the hand. ‘Now let’s take a closer look.’
‘Actually,’ he says, as we start walking again. ‘It’s nice . . .’
‘But . . .?’ I say.
He swallows, I watch his Adam’s apple bob. ‘I know this sounds weird, but I think bridges make me homesick.’
I pause, raise my eyebrows.
‘Because I live on a bay, and it’s surrounded by bridges. And not any bridges, dramatic bridges, like this one is.’
‘I knew about the Golden Gate Bridge, but I didn’t realise there were more.’
‘San Francisco is part of a big bay,’ he says. ‘Imagine if this riverran in a circle all around the city. And the river was the sea.’
‘So nothing that alike, really.’ I laugh.
‘No, not quite, but my point is, it’s a place surrounded by water.’ He looks at Tower Bridge.
‘Do you miss it?’ I say.
‘Home?’ he says, still looking out on the water. ‘It’s part of my identity, it’s part of who I am. But I don’t think I miss it as much as I should.’
‘Why do you think you should miss it more?’
‘Because I love it. I love the sea breeze, the hills and the fact there’s no seasons. And I miss my friends, I do. And cheetos, I really miss cheetos.’
‘Pretty sure there’s an American import shop somewhere we can go to.’
Ty laughs. ‘For sure. But I think what I actually miss is the sense of belonging. I don’t have that here.’
He looks so troubled, I feel compelled to say something. ‘That’s okay,’ I say, grabbing his arm. ‘Because this is London, full of people who don’t quite belong. So maybe that in itself may make you feel more at home.’
‘What do you think of the bridge?’ he says.
‘It’s nice, but it’s just a bridge.’ I shrug. ‘I think what is cool is not the design or engineering of it, but the amount of people that have crossed it, the history it has.’
‘Do you like history?’ he says, turning away from the bridge and looking at me. People bustle past us, as we crowd closer to the riverside.
‘I like stories,’ I say. ‘That’s why I want to study English. I like the idea that loads of people have walked this bridge before, that they will again, and they’ll all have different stories, different places they’ve come from and are going to.’ I pause and look at him. ‘Don’t you think that’s brilliant?’
He catches my eye. ‘I’m not sure, but I do think you’re brilliant.’
He holds my gaze for so long, I start to feel myself blush. I hope the fact it’s freezing might stop my face from actually heating up and giving me away.
‘So what now?’ I ask him.
Ty stretches his arms wide to the sky. ‘Let’s go explore.’
Thirty-Five
When the moment shatters
It leaves shards of what could have been
