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‘I don’t,’ I said, aware that my cheeks were still flushed.
Hannah stayed quiet for a long moment. ‘Not exactly a perfect plan then, is it?’
I got to my feet, too uncomfortable to remain seated as she went into full prosecutor mode.
‘I thought you said you were happy when Finn and I went out together? You told me you’d always known it would happen.’
‘Did I? I can’t remember,’ Hannah said, conveniently feigning a case of baby brain. ‘I mean, obviously I want you to be happy, Gem, but Finn hasn’t exactly kept in contact since he left, has he?’
‘He sends postcards all the time,’ I countered, seriously regretting this entire conversation. ‘They’re kind of like an invitation for me to go out there… in a way,’ I finished lamely.
Milly stirred again and Hannah gently rocked the bassinet until she had settled once more.
‘So, what are you planning on doing? Catching a flight and hoping you’ll just randomly bump into him somewhere in the city?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
We’d been friends long enough to call each other out when needed without causing offence, but her reply still stung. ‘Oneof us is being ridiculous here, but I really don’t think it’s me.’
I did have a plan, of sorts, and to her credit Hannah listened to it without further interruption.
‘I’m going to send him a message on Instagram,’ I said. ‘Something breezy and casual.’
‘Uh huh.’ It was almost as if Hannah alreadyknewhow many hours I’d spent trying to compose the supposedly innocent request. I glanced down at my phone, not needing to click on the Notes icon, because every word of the draft message was indelibly imprinted on my brain.
Hi, Finn. How are you? Just wanted to say thank you for all the postcards you’ve sent me over the last eight months. I’ve loved getting them and they’ve really made me want to see Australia in person! So, here’s an idea. I’ve got over three weeks holiday owing to me and was wondering if you fancied having a house guest next month? It would be so great to see you again. Message me back and we can hopefully fix something up. Love Gemma x
Fortunately, before Hannah could add any further objections to the ones she’d already put forward, Milly woke with a start and immediately began crying for her next feed.
It wasn’t as though Hannah could have said anything I hadn’t already considered myself, I acknowledged, as I drove home from her house. The postcards from Finn were a conundrum. On the one hand they suggested that I was still very much in his thoughts, but if that was truly the case, why hadn’t he bothered picking up the phone to speak to me, or sent me a message? It didn’t make sense. Was he simply giving me enough time to miss him, because if that was the intention he need wait no longer: I already did.
Hannah might believe Finn was just my ‘one who got away’, but late at night, in the quiet of my bedroom, I relived the passion of his kiss, the warmth in his expression, and the sincerity in his voice when he’d told me at the airport thatthis wasn’t over. I was banking on the reliability of those memories, despite my friend’s scepticism.
*
I stared down at the postcards on the duvet now, as though they held a hidden clue. Was Finn already on the other side of the world? Was my search for him fruitless because one of the locations spread out before me had presented a more attractive proposition than spending the rest of his life with me?
I swept the cards angrily to one side, watching as they fell to the floor in a kaleidoscope of colours, before collapsing on to the carpet beside them, my shoulders heaving in silent sobs. Because as much as I had told myself the postcards proved that Finn wanted me, the truth four years ago had been a little harder to swallow.
*
It was a full week before Finn replied to my Instagram message. I’d sent a second message by then, giving him my phone number in case he’d lost it. But in the end he opted not to speak to me in person, which even I had to acknowledge didn’t bode well. Seven days after reaching out to him, his reply landed. Or rather – as Hannah so eloquently described it – crash-landed.
Hey G, it began. Great to hear from you. Hope all is well in rainy old England. I totally understand why you’d like to escape to the Aussie sunshine. But I’m afraid next month isn’t good for me.
I’d seriously debated not telling Hannah about Finn’s reply because no one likes to hear ‘I told you so’, but to her credit Hannah never actually said those words out loud, although her body language yelled it from the rooftops.
She read the message several times before handing my phone back to me. ‘What kind of crappy excuse is that?His building is being fumigated and he has to move out?’
Instinctively, I leapt to Finn’s defence, and I really had no idea why, because she was only saying what was in my head. ‘Insect infestation is a real problem out there. Getting buildings fumigated is a regular thing. You don’t want roaches running all over the place.’
Hannah’s expression was grim. ‘There’s only one cockroach in this story, hon, and it’s not the type with six legs and bug eyes.’
I sighed sadly. ‘It could be a genuine reason.’
Hannah shook her head. ‘And what about the bit he wrote after that?’
I looked back down at my phone, reading the last words Finn Douglas was probably ever going to say to me.
