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One thing that did surprise me was his date of birth. Mackenzie was ten years older than I was and due to celebrate his forty-firstbirthday.
I shut down the laptop for fear of being tempted to get some work done. I’d promised myself I was taking a weekend off, no matterwhat.
I decided to take another cup of tea and sit on my balcony. It overlooked the Thames, and on a bright spring day, the river traffic was high. I watched the boats motor up and down. As much as I loved living in London, I did long for a walk on a beach, or a stroll through a forest. Feeling a little nostalgic, I called mymum.
We chatted for an hour, she told me about her neighbours, the relatives I didn’t really have a great deal to do with, and how my brother was doing. It was always with sadness when we spoke about Sebastian. He’d decided to take a ride on his motorbike one day; he was just a teen when his world was altered in such a dramatic way. He was hit by a truck, paralysed and left brain-damaged. It wasn’t his fault, and for that reason only, he received a substantial pay out that allowed Mum to move to the coast in a specially modified bungalow to care forhim.
He loved being by the sea, and I felt a pang of guilt that I hadn’t visited for a month. Mum would hold the phone to his ear and I’d talk to him. He’d reply with gurgles but it made him happy to hear myvoice.
* * *
I’d decidedto take a walk the following morning. I took the path alongside the river, leaning over the railings every now and again to watch the activity below. No matter what time or day of the week, London was busy. I watched couples holding hands, others swinging children between them. I watched individuals sitting on benches, chatting and laughing into their mobile phones. My earlier cheerfulness was a little dulled. Other than Mum, I didn’t have anyone I could do that with. I couldn’t sit on a bench and call a friend to laugh with. I’d immersed myself in Scott and my job. Watching those people made me realise how isolated and lonely Iwas.
I wasn’t concentrating when a car pulled alongside me. I’d been so focussed on containing my misery, I hadn’t heard the purr of a powerfulengine.
“Lauren,” hesaid.
I looked around as Mackenzie climbed from his car, the black one thattime.
“Hello,” Isaid.
“What are youdoing?”
I looked at my feet, brought one up, replaced it, and then repeated the process with the other. “Walking, it’scalled.”
He laughed. “Wait there, let me park up.” He slid back into his car and droveoff.
Should I wait? Of course I fucking would. I took a seat on a bench and raised my face to the sun. I closed my eyes, letting my skin soak up its rays. A few minutes later he was back. He sat beside me and I smiled athim.
“Are we doing that thing? What was it you called it? Walking?” hesaid.
He stood and held out his hand. It was with a little trepidation that I reached out for it. We walked hand inhand.
“So, is this what you do on a Sunday morning?” heasked.
“No, believe it or not, this is the first time I’ve walked this path since I’ve livedhere.”
“What did you do then, in your sparetime?”
I hesitated before speaking. “Whatever Scott decided he wanted us todo.”
“Soundsboring.”
“Itwas.”
“So now you have to find yourself, don’tyou?”
I stopped and looked at him. “Why do you saythat?”
“You’ve spent your whole life with one man. I guarantee you lost yourself somewhere along the way. I also guarantee that coffee in your cupboard was his favourite, and the wines in your rack were the ones he’dchosen.”
I couldn’t speak at first. He was absolutelyright.
“See, there is no need for words where you’re concerned. Your expressions tell me everything I need to know. Come withme.”
He led the way through a maze of buildings until we reached a small shop, tucked away under an imposing office block. He pushed open the door and allowed me to walk in first. The smell that hit me had caused me to stop, mid-step. Mackenzie collided into myback.
I laughed and continued to walk forward. The wonderful scent of fresh coffee wafted around. I looked left and right, every available place was filled with jars and jars of coffee beans. Each had a little chalkboard underneath with details of the bean, strength, andorigin.
