The Day We Meet Again

by Miranda Dickinson

  MEG – 3 MISSED CALLS

  MEG – 1 NEW MESSAGE

  SAM – 4 MISSED CALLS

  SAM – 3 NEW VOICEMAILS

  TOBI – 1 MISSED CALL

  But it’s the time displayed on the screen that delivers the biggest blow:

  1.39 p.m.

  What have I done?

  I daren’t listen to the voicemails from Sam. I know what I’ll hear and it might end me. I know what the message from Meg will be, too. She’s disgusted with me. I could tell by the tone of her voice when I called her in tears and asked her to leave a rose on the statue for Sam. It’s testament to the wonderful person she is that she even agreed to do it. But will she ever forgive me?

  Can I ever forgive myself?

  I hug my arms around my body, trying to soothe the ache in my chest. But I can’t even feel solidarity with myself. I can’t believe I got as far as this seat in the station and missed the train I’d dreamed of boarding. The train taking me back to Sam.

  I don’t know what happened.

  I heard the call for my train. My hand reached for the ticket in my pocket, the other taking the handles of my bag. Ready to lift. Ready to leave. And then… I couldn’t move.

  I just couldn’t stand or leave my seat. I remained where I was as a flood of people raged past. Like I was half-buried in sand watching waves sweep away across a bay. For twenty minutes I fought with myself, hearing the continued calls for passengers and the final boarding announcement as loud and as close as if they were screams directly in my face.

  What are you doing?

  Get on the train! It’s about to leave!

  Get up! Sam is waiting!

  RUN!

  But I couldn’t do it.

  Fear won. And I let it happen.

  So instead of running for my train, I sat firm in the prison of my seat, and played out the whole journey in my mind. My penance for utterly failing the man I’m supposed to love. I made myself relive every stage in real time; every moment – the Eurostar journey, St Pancras Station and Betjeman statue of my imagination identical to the ones I’d experienced when Sam and I parted last year. Except that when 11 a.m. arrived there was no Sam Mullins grinning by the statue. No hope for us. My mind’s facsimile of where we should have met was revealed for what it truly was: a cold and empty wasteland where love couldn’t survive.

  I am furious. Why fall at the final hurdle? I love Sam. I’ve spent all year waiting to see him again. And last night he told me he loved me. What did everything I’ve learned this year mean if it didn’t change me at the very moment it mattered?

  I just kept thinking about what Gabe said, that night in Tuscany: If you’re sure of Sam, if you know you can be everything you want to be to each other… And the time he called me at the villa – his inference that Sam wasn’t as serious as I was, the implication that I might be fooling myself, too. That I should be with someone who didn’t wait almost a year to say he loves me. That I deserved to be certain. I remembered what Mum said about being happy, and what Meg had said about taking space to make sure we both made the right decision. I laid them all out like fragments of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit – Sam’s eleventh-hour declaration of love only confusing the picture more.

  But I know I love him. And, as of yesterday, I know he loves me too.

  So why did I hesitate?

  I should have been on that train. Or the next. I could still find one today, scrape the money together, risk it on my credit card – anything to get me back to London. Perhaps if I call Sam, explain the reason for my panic and promise him I’m on my way right now I can still save this? Us?

  He was alone by the statue. I abandoned him. What must he think of me?

  My phone rings and I see my best friend’s smiling face on the caller ID. At least it isn’t Sam. Tears flood my eyes as I accept the call.

  ‘Phoebe, where are you?’

  I open my mouth to reply but a loud sob shoulders into the space where words should be.

  ‘Phee. Are you safe? Tell me where you are.’

  ‘I-I’m…’ The words won’t come. A loud French station announcement echoes around the space, interrupting my attempt.

  ‘Are you still at the station?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She swears. There’s a pause and I think she might slam the phone down. Then: ‘Right. Stay where you are, okay? Tobi and Luc will come and get you.’

  ‘No, I—’

  ‘Shut up. They’re on their way.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I rush, slapping tears away from my cheeks. ‘I panicked…’

  ‘Just don’t – I don’t need to hear it now. You’ve been there for hours, Phee, you need to be somewhere safe. Stay there. Don’t move. We will – I don’t know what we’ll do, but we’ll find a way to get you home.’

  She doesn’t yell, when she has every right to tear strips off me. But her weariness and disappointment stings more. Meg’s always told me I can achieve more than I think I’m capable of. Well, I’ve blown that belief to the sky, haven’t I? I wouldn’t blame her if she wanted rid of our friendship altogether after this.

  I throw my phone in my bag and cover my eyes. I want to hide but I can’t run from what I’ve done. I’ve failed Sam. I’ve failed my friends. Worst of all, I’ve failed myself. And my life will never be the same.

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty, Sam

  It’s getting dark when I leave St Pancras.

  Don’t ask me why I stayed so long. It’s a mystery to me. I just had to make sure she wasn’t coming, that she hadn’t thought better of her mistake and caught a later train. So I watched every arrival from Paris like a half-crazed train spotter.

  She has to come back some time, right?

  I’m assuming she’s still with her friends in Paris, although of course she could be anywhere. She could have flown home, or headed back into Europe. Is she hiding somewhere? Does she even care about where I am?

  I’ve left voicemail messages and will email her eventually, but not tonight. I need to let my friends know I’m okay – and that I’m back in town. I can’t face finding words for Phoebe Jones yet.

  Outside, London is the same as always, carrying on regardless of whatever’s happening in your life. I’ve always been comforted by that in the past – that London doesn’t indulge your celebrations or your pain. But this evening it feels like the capital is dismissing me. To this city I’m no different than I was a year ago. But everything has changed.

  The lights of the British Library shine out as I pass but this time I won’t enter the courtyard where in the past I’ve busked or met mates for coffee. I don’t want to be soothed yet. The pain is necessary. I hid from it after Laura and clearly didn’t learn what I needed to. I won’t make the same mistake with Phoebe.

  I can’t believe she wasn’t there. I don’t know if it will ever make sense.

  I’m passing Euston Station when the call comes.

  It’s her.

  I stare at the picture of us smiling up from the screen. I should decline the call, block her number. But she owes me an explanation. On what might be the last ring before voicemail claims her call, I answer.

  ‘Phoebe.’

  I can hear her breath, shaky and uneven, and a sound that might be a cough or the beginnings of a sob. My heart is torn between elation that I can hear her and fury that she’s calling me now. I want her to be upset. I want her to feel terrible.

  ‘I’m… so sorry…’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘In Paris. Still.’

  My words fail. I nod at the pavement, trying to keep control.

  ‘Sam, are you still there?’

  ‘Still here.’

  Where else would I be? I kept my promise.

  ‘I just – I don’t know what happened…’

  ‘Well, you weren’t here. That’s what happened.’

  ‘I know. I can’t believe I let you down. I was on my way – I mean, I was at Gare du Nord, and…’

&nb
sp; ‘Phoebe, don’t.’

  ‘But I need to explain…’

  ‘There’s nothing to say. We said at the beginning we might change our minds. So, you changed your mind. You could have changed it yesterday, or last week, or any time before I set off to meet you, of course. But that’s immaterial. It happened. You did what you had to.’

  ‘I never wanted this… I didn’t want to hurt you…’

  I can hear tears in her voice. This is worse than if she’d remained silent.

  ‘Listen, I don’t think I can do this now. Talk about it, I mean. I have to work it out. Alone.’

  ‘But there’s so much I need to say to you, Sam.’

  ‘No. No, you really don’t. It’s very simple – you lied to me and you don’t love me. That’s why you weren’t there. I love you, which is why I was.’

  ‘No, you’re wrong. I never lied to you. I just panicked.’

  ‘Phoebe, it is what it is.’ My words crash across the end of hers. ‘It’s not what I wanted. Not what I thought we both wanted. But I’ll get over it.’

  ‘No, listen to me. I just need some more time. To get my head around it.’

  You’ve had a year, Phoebe. You either want to be with me or you don’t. You shouldn’t have to convince yourself. I don’t want to be the guy you talked yourself into being with. I deserve better than that.

  But I don’t have the strength to say that to her tonight.

  Instead, I say: ‘Yeah, me too. Look, just be happy, okay? Find something you know you want. And – don’t call me again.’

  ‘No, Sam…’ This hurts too much. Hearing her voice is a knife to my chest. It has to end, now.

  ‘I’ve got to go.’

  ‘Please…’

  ‘What more do you want from me? You weren’t there. That’s all I needed to know. So thanks for a great year and all the good stuff. But we need to move on. If you ever cared about me at all, please leave it now. Goodbye, Phoebe.’

  So, that’s it. Doors closed and bolted. No way back.

  As soon as I hang up, I find DeeDee’s number and call it. My eyes sting and I know I won’t be able to hide the tears from her. But I don’t want to be alone. Tonight, I need my friends.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-One, Phoebe

  He hangs up. And the world is suddenly an echoing, lonely chamber.

  I’ve lost him.

  All because I was too scared to get on that train.

  Luc holds my hand and Tobi watches, concerned, from the kitchen where he’s making more tea. For a Frenchman he has an excellent understanding of English crisis management. I love that they are here, but I wish they didn’t have to see this.

  ‘That sounded brutal,’ Luc says, his voice low.

  I blink at him. I can’t even find words to say how I feel. I knew it would be bad – part of me even hoped Sam might let my call go to his voicemail so I could blurt it all out and not have to hear him. I wish I hadn’t heard him. The hurt in his voice almost destroyed me. I put it there – I caused that in the man I’ve been in love with for an entire year.

  If you’re sure of Sam…

  Why won’t those words leave me alone? I am sure of Sam. I was… Why did I listen to the doubts?

  ‘I am the worst person.’

  ‘No, you’re not.’

  ‘Why didn’t I go through with it? If I loved him, I should have been there.’

  ‘Phoebe, if he loved you he should have given you the chance to explain.’

  ‘He was there. I wasn’t. It was academic.’

  ‘Mon amie, you are torturing yourself. Whatever happened, it happened for a reason. You won’t know what that is yet. But equally, there is nothing to be done about it now. So. We have spoken to Meg and she agrees it is better for you to stay in Paris with us for a while.’

  ‘No, Tobi, I need to get back. I have to make this right with Sam.’

  ‘And you will. But not immediately. He is hurt and angry. You are hurt, too, and confused. What good can you do until you understand yourself?’

  I don’t want Tobi and Luc to be right, but I can’t escape the truth. However much I want it to be different, the damage done today just isn’t fixable yet. But I don’t want to outstay my welcome here. Tobi and Luc have been incredible hosts, friends and confidants. They’ve done so much for me already and I can’t take advantage of their kindness. Besides, I need to get back to London to work out what to do next.

  I accept a strong hug from Tobi who has just brought us another pot of tea. ‘What would I do without you, my gallant knights?’

  ‘It’s our pleasure, fair Lady Phee,’ Tobi smiles. ‘So, you’ll stay?’

  ‘For a few days. But then I need to go home.’

  * * *

  My whole body feels beaten and bruised. But my heart is just numb. Tomorrow it will hit me fully, I think. Tomorrow I will wake to my first day without Sam Mullins. Then it will feel real.

  I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to rest tonight, but as soon as I get into bed weariness slams down on my body. The last thing I see before I fall asleep is the rainbow of book spines, their quiet order on the bookshelves above me reassuring and familiar. At least I still have this, I think. I may have thrown away my future plans with Sam, but I still have my year. I still did it. On a day when positives have become scarce, this is one I will cling to.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Two, Sam

  It’s almost 11 a.m. when I wake. For one blissful moment I am lying in sunlight, comfortable and warm, breathing in the morning.

  And then, I remember.

  Why does life do that to you? Whack you with reality just as you’re enjoying your dream? A few minutes longer and I could have imagined her beside me.

  If only.

  I choke back the pain, stuff my face into the pillow and wait until it subsides. I never thought I’d cry as much as I have in the last eighteen months. First Laura. Now Phoebe. Except with Phoebe it’s worse. I don’t know why that should be – maybe I’d spent so long vilifying Laura that I held Phoebe up on a pedestal she didn’t deserve. Perhaps I expected too much of her.

  I don’t do complications. I should never have let my heart run away with itself. So I’m as much to blame as Phoebe. I asked her for the impossible without realising what I was doing.

  Maybe that’s why she missed the train.

  When I get up and wander into DeeDee and Kim’s kitchen to find coffee, I dare to switch on my phone. While Kim’s beloved but battered Nespresso machine does its thing, I scan my inbox. Nothing from her. I don’t know why I expected there would be, only that just before I ended the call last night Phoebe was asking for more time to explain. I thought she might have composed an email last night, while I was confessing everything to DeeDee and Kim and sobbing like a child. I’m not proud of that, but by the time I reached their flat in Battersea, I had nothing left to fight it with.

  I was pretty clear when I spoke to Phoebe that it would be the last time we’d speak. Clearly she took me at my word. I don’t want it to be over, but it is, and yet I can’t bring myself to delete her number.

  ‘Hey, you.’

  I look up to see DeeDee strolling into the kitchen. She looks tired, but then consoling your heartbroken friend till well past 4 a.m. will have that effect on you. We lost Kim almost two hours before we called it a night, when she yawned her apologies and headed for her bed.

  ‘Morning.’

  She glances over my shoulder at the kitchen clock and chuckles. ‘Just. How you feeling?’

  ‘Like I just did ten rounds with Anthony Joshua.’

  ‘Nice.’

  I hand her a mug of coffee. ‘I’ll live.’

  ‘Yes, you will. I told you that last night. Things will work out, babe, if you stick around long enough. I know you don’t want to hear that now, but they will. You need time. You both do.’ DeeDee lowers her gaze and I brace myself. ‘Are you going to see Phoebe when she comes home?’

  �
��I don’t think so.’

  My friend nods but I know she’s not done with me on this. ‘Whatever feels right, babe. Don’t rush anything. Might be helpful later on, though. Words said in person are always better.’

  I hope my brief smile is enough of a reply. I don’t know how I’d feel if I saw Phoebe again with us not being together. I don’t think I could bear that.

  ‘So, what’s the plan?’

  ‘I have no idea. Get back into the studio, I guess. And sort out somewhere to live.’

  ‘Does Chris know you’re back? Or Syd?’

  ‘Not yet. I’ll go and see Chris today and then catch Syd if I can. Any idea if the guy who took my room is still there?’

  DeeDee shrugs behind her coffee mug as she takes a sip. ‘Dunno. Last I heard he was thinking of selling.’

  That’s a blow. Not that I’d assumed I could move back into my old place, but Syd’s talked about moving out of the city for a while now. I have money to find somewhere else, but a year on Mull has seriously depleted my savings. Until the studio starts turning a profit, I need to take any work going.

  ‘Right. I’ll sort it. I always do.’

  ‘Well, Kim’s off on a European tour next week for two months, so there’s room here if you need to stay a while.’

  I appreciate the offer, but I’m back now so I need to get sorted. Besides, while I love DeeDee and Kim and they love me, staying under their roof for any extended period of time would not be healthy for our friendship.

  Today is the start of the next chapter of my life. I’m determined to make it count.

  I promised Niven I’d call him today and while the news I’ll have for him won’t be what he’s expecting, I have no intention of reneging on that promise. We’ve become so much closer while I’ve been on Mull and I don’t want to let that slide now I’m back in London.

  All of that can wait for an hour, though. I need to get my bearings back and eat, even though my stomach is stubbornly twisted against that idea. I think of Ailish and how she kept going for Ma when everything fell apart. Ma crumbled, Ailish built scaffolding around her to keep her breathing. I know who I want to be like. I don’t want to go under like Ma did.