by Anna Bell
If he wasn’t with whoever she is, then I might have gone up to him, but I couldn’t guarantee that it wouldn’t reduce me to a weeping mess and I have too much pride to let that happen in front of her.
‘She’s not all that,’ says Sian, turning her nose up.
I’m lost in the thought that I might be too late with this bucket list as the position of Joseph Small’s girlfriend might already have been filled, when I notice a shadow fall over the table.
‘Abi?’ he asks in his distinctive posh voice.
‘Hello, Joseph,’ I say as I look up and our eyes lock. How my voice is so calm and collected I’ll never know. I’ve managed to make it sound like bumping into him was completely normal, and not something I’ve fantasised about nearly every hour since he dumped me.
‘I can’t believe it’s really you. Your hair,’ he says as if questioning it.
‘Ah, yes, I had it cut last week. Fancied a change,’ I say, shrugging my shoulders, still trying to be as cool as a cucumber despite the fact I’m shaking like a leaf.
‘I didn’t recognise you when I first saw you, but I caught another glimpse of you and I thought it was you. Of course, then I had to come over and check. And here you are.’
Is he rambling? He’s usually so measured, but I’m getting the impression I’ve unnerved him.
‘Here I am,’ I repeat.
‘Thanks for dropping off my stuff last week,’ I say in a bid to take the attention away from my hair.
‘Oh, that was no problem. I was in the area, and I thought I’d pop it in. I did buzz but you didn’t answer. I hope you don’t mind me leaving it in the lobby.’
‘Not at all.’
There’s another pause and the conversation grinds to a halt. It all feels horribly formal and stiff. It’s so unnatural. We were once so intimate with each other and now we’re talking like we’re casual acquaintances. I can feel the tears prickling behind my eyes at the thought of what we’d once been.
‘So what brings you here, Joseph?’ Apart from your top-secret bucket list.
‘I’ve always fancied coming, and it’s my sister Bianca’s birthday so I thought I’d treat her.’
I catch Sian stifling a giggle at the way he pronounces his sister’s name – Bee-arn-ka. His accent makes the name sound as far from the EastEnders character as it could possibly get.
Then I register what he’s said: his sister. Not his new girlfriend. I try to fight against the instinct to break out into a huge smile.
‘That’s nice of you,’ I say.
‘Yes, I should probably be getting back to her. It was really nice to see you, Abi. You’re looking . . . well, really well.’
‘Thanks,’ I say, feeling my cheeks flushing at the compliment.
He holds my gaze for a moment more before he turns and walks back over to his sister.
‘Not his new girlfriend after all,’ says Sian, ‘just his sister Be-arn-kaaaaa.’
I laugh at Sian’s impression. I’d forgotten quite how posh he could sound.
‘I know,’ I say.
Inside I’m secretly air punching in victory. All is not lost yet.
‘I bet he’s definitely kicking himself for letting you go now,’ says Sian.
‘Do you think?’ I say, my breath catching in my throat.
‘Absolutely. Did you see the way he was looking at you? He was practically drooling into my tea cup.’
I smile at the thought. Maybe I’m not crazy for trying to get him back after all. I knew that I hadn’t imagined the connection Joseph and I had.
‘So, do you think I should follow up with a chatty Facebook message? You know, get the ball rolling again.’
‘Wait. Do you still honestly want him back? What about your list and all the things you’ve planned to do to get over him?’ asks Sian.
If only I’d told her my real motivation behind the bucket list.
‘I know, but I wasn’t expecting to see him.’ So soon.
‘Well,’ she says, taking yet another cake, I’ve lost count of how many she’s had. ‘You know what I think about you trying to get him back, and I can’t stop you, but I do think that you should wait for him to come to you. I mean, he was the one that broke up with you. You shouldn’t be the one to make the first move. Just because you saw him doesn’t change anything.’
I sigh. She’s right. If I message him it makes me look pathetic and desperate, which defeats the whole purpose of me doing the bucket list in the first place.
I see Joseph and his sister push back their chairs and stand up. As Bianca turns to walk out the door I see the striking family resemblance and wonder how I didn’t notice it before. Joseph follows behind her and glances over his shoulder in my direction as he goes. He gives me a small smile before he disappears out of the room.
My stomach feels like fireworks are exploding inside it.
‘Now that he’s gone, are we going to get back to the business of finishing the cakes?’ asks Sian.
‘Oh, yes,’ I say, suddenly feeling ravenous. ‘Let’s order some more.’
After all, I’m going to be burning plenty of calories with all the cycling, running and hiking on the list. Seeing Joseph has made me more focused and reminded me what the end prize is.
I’m looking forward to my cycling lesson on Sunday. I can’t wait to get riding and pedal my way right back into Joseph’s heart.
I might only have one challenge under my belt, but nothing, not even my fear, is going to stand in the way of me doing the other nine. Seeing him has made me realise how important it is to get him back, and I’m more convinced than ever that this list is the key to doing that.
Chapter Eight
Five weeks, six days until D-Day, aka the abseil. One item ticked off my list, another nine to go . . .
‘This isn’t so bad,’ I say, turning my head to shout over my shoulder. I don’t know why I didn’t trust Ben before when he said I should start pedalling quicker.
I see his eyes widen as he watches me with horror.
‘Look out!’ he shouts, raising his arm.
I snap my head back and realise that I’m heading straight for a partition hedge.
‘Oh, crap!’
I turn at the last minute and my tyres bump the curb. I brake hard and put a foot down, my heart racing nineteen to the dozen, but somehow I manage to keep the bike upright.
‘Who put that there? Stupid hedge,’ I say, kicking it.
Trust me to find one of the only obstacles in this empty car park.
I’ve been riding my new bike for the best part of an hour and it’s safe to say that I’m not a natural. Ben’s brought me to a deserted office car park on the outskirts of the city, and I’ve been riding so slowly that he’s been able to keep up by walking behind me. But of course, just when he gets me to go faster and I think I’ve cracked it, I go and practically throw myself into a bush.
‘You were doing really well,’ he says, bending down to examine my wheel, presumably to make sure that I haven’t done any lasting damage. ‘You just need to keep looking forward. Think of it as if you were driving a car. You wouldn’t turn round to talk to me then, would you?’
‘Wouldn’t I? It’s a good job you drove.’
He smiles and exposes his dimple. It’s doing less hiding today as the stubble’s been trimmed since our last encounter. ‘Do you want to keep on going for a bit longer, or take a break? I brought some tea.’
‘Tea?’ I say in disbelief, climbing off my bike. It’s like he’s said the magic word.
He takes his backpack off and digs around inside, before pulling out a flask and two tin mugs. He sits down on the curb that I bumped into and begins to pour me a cup.
‘Hope you don’t mind it white, and I didn’t bring any sugar,’ he says a little apologetically as I sit down beside him and take the cup.
‘It’s perfect. Thank you. It’s exactly what I need.’
I curl my hands around the metal mug, liking the fact that it’s instantly warm
.
‘I can’t believe you came so prepared.’ I take a sip and sigh in satisfaction like they do in tea adverts.
‘It isn’t a proper bike ride without tea and oh . . .’ Ben digs into his bag again and pulls out two Mini Rolls. ‘Cake.’
I look dubiously at the Mini Rolls. After eating what felt like my body weight in cakes at the Ritz on Tuesday, my diet to shift my post-break-up pounds hasn’t got off to a very good start. But one little Mini Roll isn’t going to hurt, is it? And besides, I’ve been cycling for at least an hour. Surely that’s got to have burnt some calories, despite my tortoise-like speed.
I pop my mug down on the floor and take the cake from Ben.
‘Doesn’t this go against the whole healthy bike-riding stuff? Isn’t your body supposed to be a temple?’ I say, unwrapping my cake.
‘Ha, mine’s not. You have to let yourself have a treat on a ride – it’s the highlight. I actually bought some chocolates from the chocolatiers near the shop, but unfortunately, I, um, ate them last night.’
‘I’ve always wanted to go in there but never trusted myself.’
‘Probably wise. I have an addiction to the marshmallow and honeycomb chocolates. They’re to die for.’
‘Now you’re making me want them.’
‘Sorry, but Mini Rolls are the next best thing, honestly.’
He puts the cake in his mouth in one go. He gets another one out of his bag and offers it to me. I shake my head, before he opens his and eats it, again in almost one bite. I look at his skinny frame and think that maybe he’s onto something with all this cycling. Maybe if I nailed this riding thing I’d be able to eat all the cake in the world . . .
‘So is the riding getting any easier?’
‘A little bit, but I thought it might come back a little quicker. I still feel like I could be lapped by a toddler.’
‘Maybe it would help if you started riding to work to build up your confidence.’
‘Um.’ I’m not convinced. Although it wouldn’t take that long there are junctions that scare me as a pedestrian and I only cross with the aid of a little green man, let alone launching myself into the traffic on a rickety metal frame that I can barely control.
‘You do seem to be getting better. You got up to a decent speed in the end. I mean, it would still take you quite a while to get round the Isle of Wight like this, but it was definitely quicker than walking pace. I think at this rate you’ll be ready to do it by the end of the year.’
My heart sinks. That’s not quite in keeping with the timeframe that I have to win Joseph back.
‘I was thinking more next month.’
‘Well, that’s . . . um . . . ambitious. You’ll have to do a lot more practising between now and then.’
I nod eagerly, pleased that he didn’t laugh.
‘I was a bit worried earlier that I might have to hike round the island with you as you ride,’ he says, smiling.
‘Watch, it,’ I say, laughing, picturing him walking in front of me with a big flag like they used to do in front of trains in the olden days.
I’m just relieved that he offered to come with me on the big challenge. It’s relaxed me no end to know that I’m going to be in expert company if it all goes wrong. ‘It’s not my fault that I’m the world’s crappiest cyclist.’
‘Um, actually it is. You know how to ride a bike, and you’re not woefully unfit, so really there’s no reason why you can’t do it.’
‘Except the fear that I’m going to go flying over the handlebars.’
‘Oh, you’re one of those worst-case-scenario people,’ he says, raising his eyebrows and nodding his head.
‘No, I’m not. I’m quite an optimist. Well, I am until it’s a life-and-death situation. Look at the hedge incident. If you hadn’t been behind me, then I wouldn’t have had any warning and would have gone head first into it.’
‘If I hadn’t been behind you, you wouldn’t have been turning round to talk to me and you’d have been looking where you were going. And is that what you really think – that this is a life-and-death situation? Here in a car park with no cars and barely any obstacles?’
I can see the dimple making an appearance.
‘I know I sound ridiculous,’ I say, sipping my tea.
‘I don’t get what you’re so scared of. You’ve got the fundamentals down, but something’s holding you back.’
‘Fear,’ I say more to my drink than Ben.
‘Of what?’
‘Of falling. Of going so fast that I can’t stop.’
‘It’s funny, but that’s usually what gives me a buzz. When I’m mountain biking down big slopes, it’s that fear that gives me the rush. You know that heady adrenaline that makes you feel a bit sick and like you want to wee, but at the same time you want to do it again as soon as you stop. Do you know?’
I shake my head. I don’t know.
‘To be honest, I usually stop anything before I get to that stage.’
‘Then, Abi, you’re missing out. Perhaps after we do the Isle of Wight, you’ll come mountain biking with me and Tammy.’
I splutter a laugh that causes my hand to judder, splashing tea down my leg.
I don’t know what’s more unlikely, me voluntarily mountain biking or getting on a bike in front of Tammy, the pro-cycler. It’s one thing to make a fool of myself in front of someone like Ben, who clearly doesn’t have a judgemental bone in his body – but Tammy’s a different kettle of fish all together.
‘Me, mountain biking? I think I’d rather do the abseil down the Spinnaker than voluntarily biking off-road and down a hill.’
‘Giles told me last week that you’d all decided to do it as a work thing.’
I think back to the team meeting with Rick and Linz, and I still don’t know how I’m going to get out of it.
A cool breeze blows over us, and Ben pulls down the sleeves of his hoodie.
‘Yeah, he suggested it.’ A chill runs over my body, and it’s got nothing to do with the wind.
He looks at me for a minute and opens his mouth to say something, but seems to change his mind.
‘What?’ I say.
He wrinkles his brow as if something’s weighing heavily on his mind.
‘It’s just I don’t get you. If it terrifies you so much, why did you put it on your list? Bucket lists are supposed to be about doing things you’ve always dreamt about, not torturing yourself.’
I wish someone had told that to Joseph.
‘I thought I’d challenge myself,’ I say weakly. I’ve rehearsed these stock answers in case Sian interrogates me.
‘I’m sure there are plenty of ways that you could have challenged yourself which wouldn’t make you look like you’re about to have a heart attack whenever a task is mentioned. I mean, it’s like this riding a bike round the Isle of Wight – it doesn’t seem like the type of thing you’d naturally want to do.’
I shrug my shoulders and concentrate on my tea.
‘Are you sure you’ve given this list proper thought?’
I hug my near-empty cup of tea into my chest. I seem to have thought of little else since I found Joseph’s piece of paper.
‘Uh-huh,’ I say, not even convincing myself.
‘I mean, why don’t you change it? It’s your list. It’s not going to matter if you stick to things you’ll enjoy.’
‘I’m trying to get over a break-up and I have to do this list.’
‘No you don’t,’ says Ben, scratching his head. ‘There are plenty of other ways to mend a broken heart, and doing some list full of stuff that you don’t want to do doesn’t have to be one of them.’
‘But how else will I get Joseph back?’
I’ve blurted it out before I realise what I’ve said.
‘Get Joseph back?’ repeats Ben.
I scrunch my eyes up, too embarrassed to look at him.
‘You’re trying to get your ex back by doing tasks that scare you?’
I finally open my eyes and se
e that Ben’s turned his head and is looking straight at me, studying my face. I turn to meet his gaze and I know that I’m hiding nothing in my eyes.
‘It’s pathetic, I know,’ I say, sighing.
People seem to accept the bucket list when they think it’s to get over someone. I knew it would be different if anyone found out it was a plan to get someone back.
‘Abi, is it his list that you’re doing?’
I nod my head slowly and shut my eyes.
Ben whistles through his teeth. ‘And suddenly it all makes sense. I couldn’t understand why you’d be putting yourself through all these things that terrified you. Is there anything on the list that you actually want to do?’
‘Tea at the Ritz, going to Paris and the wine tasting sound all right. And I’m looking forward to the Spanish lessons that I’m starting next week.’
Even if listening to Shakira’s Spanish songs has done nothing to improve my language skills.
‘But let me guess, the four peaks hiking, the cycling and the abseiling wouldn’t have made your own list?’
‘Or the windsurfing,’ I say, my whole body shivering at the thought of the sea.
I’m expecting a lecture. It’s what Sian would do. First she’d be mad at me for lying to her and passing the list off as my own. Then she’d be pissed off that I was trying to change myself for a man.
I tense my muscles, waiting for a full-on assault about my stupidity, but instead Ben laughs.
‘What?’ It’s not funny. Sad, pathetic, maybe, but not laugh-out-loud funny.
He smiles at me, and shakes his head a little. ‘Nothing. It’s just that’s almost the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard someone do to try to win someone back.’
I look at him incredulously. It’s not the worst thing I could have done. I could have ‘accidentally’ turned up at all the same places as him. Or tried to date one of his friends to make him jealous. Before I found the list I came up with 101 crazy schemes to win him back, and this sounded like the most sane.
‘I’m sorry, Abi. But you’ve got to admit it’s a little bit extreme. What are you expecting him to do when he finds out?’