The One That Got Away

by Lucy Dawson

  I roll my eyes and shake my head lightly, which makes him grin.

  ‘—it reminds you when times are crap, it won’t always be like that, but also that it’s important to cherish the good things in your life while you have them.’

  He looks directly at me again, just for a moment. ‘So actually,’ he continues cheerfully, moving straight on before I have chance to consider exactly what he means by that, ‘they are three quite optimistic little words – I think.’

  There is a pause.

  ‘You mentioned you’re still in corporate events then?’ I say eventually.

  ‘Yes, that’s correct,’ he says, trying to keep a straight face, pretending to be serious. ‘I am still in corporate events, thank you for asking.’

  I shoot him a look.

  ‘What?’ he laughs. ‘You just sound very polite, that’s all.’

  ‘I haven’t seen you for ages!’ I exclaim. ‘That’s the sort of thing normal people ask, Leo, not “what three words describe your current mood”.’

  ‘Unsettled, reflective … intrigued.’ He shoots back instantly.

  ‘So you’re still in corporate events?’ My heart gives an extra warning thump, as I try to pretend I haven’t just heard that.

  ‘Oh OK – yes, I am!’ he says good-naturedly. ‘Parties, launches, lunches, exhibitions … still busy showing people a good time.’

  ‘I’m sure you are,’ I reply dryly and sip my drink again as he grins. ‘All right, I walked straight into that one … but yes, it’s true, my life is dedicated to the pursuit of other people’s happiness.’ He sighs heavily. ‘It’s very rewarding, let me tell you.’

  ‘Oh come on. You love it.’

  He shrugs. ‘It’s easy, that’s true …’ For him it probably is. I’ve seen him do small talk, deep chat – he can adapt to any social situation he finds himself in. ‘… but it’s just not so much fun any more. The guest lists keep getting younger and younger. I don’t like it. To be fair I haven’t the patience for it these days, pretending I really love music that I hated the first time round … that kind of thing.’

  I smile and rub my neck, which is starting to feel a bit tight.

  ‘You all right?’ he notices.

  ‘Yes thanks. It’s just a bit uncomfortable that’s all.’

  ‘Oh I don’t know, we’re having a nice old chat, aren’t we?’

  ‘Will you stop it?’ I put my empty glass down on the table and give him another mock fierce look.

  ‘Sorry.’ He says mischievously. ‘So what did happen in the car today then?’

  ‘Urgh.’ I think back to the woman shouting at me. ‘I just wasn’t concentrating, it was totally my fault.’

  ‘Not mine for ringing you then?’ he says.

  ‘No, not at all,’ I reassure him quickly. ‘I had a lot on my mind, I should have been focusing.’

  ‘Lot on your mind? In what way?’

  I don’t really know how to answer that.

  ‘Tell me to mind my own business and I will,’ he says gently, noting my hesitation.

  ‘It’s not that, Leo,’ my tongue is loosening thanks to the booze. ‘It’s just …’

  He says nothing, just waits patiently and I find myself compelled to fill the silence.

  ‘You know what? I’m just managing to make a mess of everything today.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

  ‘Want to bet?’ I sigh and sit back in my chair a little. ‘Aren’t things supposed to get easier as you get older?’

  ‘What sort of things are we talking about?’

  ‘Becoming older and wiser, that sort of thing.’

  ‘Oh, I see. Well, I don’t know that this will help very much – and you won’t remember him anyway – but last week my great uncle Davy, aged eighty-two—’

  ‘Davy? He’s still alive?’ I can’t help my astonishment.

  ‘Yes he is! You haven’t forgotten him? Wow!’ he looks pleased. ‘He’ll love that. Well anyway, Davy tells me he’s going to split up with his girlfriend – a sweet little widower who lives on the floor above him – because it’s all moving too fast. But as you’ve just pointed out, how slow can you afford to go at eighty-two?’

  I laugh – as a very slight, young and pretty waitress appears and puts two more drinks down in front of us. When did we order them?

  ‘Thank you,’ Leo smiles charmingly at her and she blushes scarlet before discreetly withdrawing. I roll my eyes as Leo glances after her.

  ‘What?’ he says, not missing a trick.

  ‘Maybe you’re right,’ I tease. ‘Maybe there does come a point when perhaps you just run the risk of appearing a dirty old man.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he says, looking distinctly unamused.

  Oh dear. ‘I’m only joking,’ I backtrack quickly. ‘You were the one who blatantly checked her out!’

  ‘I didn’t check her out.’ He scoffs. ‘I looked to see if she was coming back with the tab for me to sign. What with my eyesight going due to extreme old age I don’t see so well these days …’ he reaches for his fresh drink. ‘What do you care anyway? Cheers,’ he holds it aloft expectantly. So I pick mine up and we chink.

  ‘Cheers. And I don’t care. Carry on with what you were saying before.’

  He smiles, seeming to have recovered his good humour. ‘I don’t think we ever really hit the moment of enlightenment where it just makes sense. We’re all bumbling around trying not to balls it up, hoping we’re making the right decisions.’

  Hmm. That does sound rather familiar actually.

  ‘What?’ he looks at me innocently.

  ‘Nothing,’ I shake my head. ‘That just – sounds about the long and the short of where I am.’ I shrug and take a big mouthful of drink. My head is starting to feel a bit thick.

  ‘So I take it you’re on the edge of a choice then?’ he asks. ‘Staring at the crossroads of life as it were?’ He swirls his whisky reflectively and waits.

  ‘I don’t really know what I’m doing,’ I say, watching the liquid spinning in the glass.

  He stays diplomatically quiet, but this time, I remain discreet.

  ‘You know,’ he muses eventually. ‘I was quite surprised when you mentioned you hadn’t got any children yet … not that it’s a bad thing,’ he adds quickly. ‘Just, I would have expected you to have them by now. Is that the big decision?’

  I look at him, impressed; he always was very sharp.

  ‘Doesn’t Dan – is it? – want them?’

  Or perhaps not.

  ‘So it’s automatically Dan who’s not keen is it?’ I say lightly. ‘I see.’

  He looks taken aback and I realise in being a smartarse, I’ve given away more than I intended to. I gulp some more whisky.

  ‘But when we were together you—’

  I look up sharply.

  ‘Sorry,’ he says instantly. ‘I didn’t mean anything by that except I don’t remember it being something you didn’t seem to want, but hey – you’re allowed to change your mind.’

  ‘I shouldn’t be talking to you about this,’ I say suddenly.

  ‘Molly, who am I going to tell?’

  ‘That’s not the point. I probably do want them – I just want to have some fun first, that’s all.’ I throw the last of my drink back, then yawn.

  ‘So I see,’ he laughs. ‘I hear what you’re saying though, believe me … Hang on a sec.’

  He stands up and makes his way over to the bar again. While he’s there I sneak a look at my phone. No calls from Dan. Stung, I shove the phone back in my bag and look up as Leo returns to the table with two full shot glasses. He laughs at my worried expression. ‘Tequila!’ he grins and passes one to me.

  I blanch. ‘I can’t – you know what it does to me.’

  He looks puzzled for a moment. ‘Oh God … yeah – I’d forgotten it’s not your best drink.’

  ‘It’s not that, I love it – it just doesn’t love me.’

  ‘Oh come on!’ he says, the liquid trembling slightl
y in the glass. ‘It’s one shot! I thought you said you wanted to have fun?’

  I hesitate, then reach for it and knock it back in one.

  He cheers. ‘There you go, you’ve still got it!’ He sits back down and places his shot carefully on the table.

  ‘Er, excuse me?’ I nod at it.

  ‘No way,’ he pulls a face. ‘I hate the stuff. You can have that one as well if you like. I’m past it, remember? The shock might kill me.’

  ‘Just drink it,’ I push it towards him and he sighs heavily and downs it, to my satisfaction, and then coughs. ‘Urgh, God. You know what, the youngsters can keep it …’

  ‘All right grandpa, no one likes a whinger,’ I sit back in my chair.

  He laughs again and then stares at me.

  ‘What?’ I squirm uncomfortably.

  ‘Nothing,’ he says quickly.

  ‘Don’t just sit there staring,’ I shift again, awkwardly. ‘It’s rude.’

  ‘I was just thinking how nothing fazes you.’

  ‘Not that I’ve aged horrifically since you last saw me?’ I blurt, for reasons I don’t even understand. ‘Or something equally as unflattering?’

  He looks genuinely thrown. ‘Not even slightly. You look beautiful.’

  There is a very long pause.

  ‘Right, well,’ I say eventually, realising this is straying into potentially dangerous territory. ‘I’m going to pretend I need the loo now,’ I grab the arms of my chair to steady myself, ‘so I can diffuse the tension, just in case you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking.’

  He raises an interested eyebrow. ‘Which would be …’

  ‘That,’ I point at him. ‘Whatever you’re thinking now … Stop it. I’ll be right back, OK? Please can you get me some water?’ I stand up and the alcohol falls down through my middle like a lift crashing to the basement. Suddenly I realise I am a lot drunker than I thought.

  ‘You all right?’ Leo’s brow creases with concern as I feel my stomach swirl unpleasantly.

  ‘I think I might need some fresh air actually,’ I cover my mouth with my hand, feeling faint.

  ‘Oh okkkayyy,’ he stands up hastily and grabs my bag. ‘Let’s move.’

  Hurriedly he leads me to a quiet terrace at the back of the hotel. I can just make out ‘Love Shack’ drifting across from the conference ballroom as the skin on my bare arms starts to cool my hot, drunk blood. ‘I’m really sorry. I just suddenly feel really – sick and …’ I swallow, waiting for the nausea to pass. ‘I’ve had way too much to drink tonight.’

  ‘It was my fault … that tequila probably tipped you over.’

  ‘No, no,’ I wave a hand, not wanting to even think tequila. ‘I had a lot earlier and … I’m so stupid.’ I shake my head.

  ‘Oh come on. We’ve all done it – well, you know I’ve done it – don’t beat yourself up.’ He places my bag at my feet, removes a packet of cigarettes, a lighter and his phone from his jacket and then takes it off, before passing it to me. ‘You’ll freeze otherwise.’

  I loop it over my shoulders gratefully and shiver as the warm silk lining slips over my skin. He stands there just clasping his belongings.

  ‘Want me to take those?’ I offer, making an effort to enunciate.

  ‘Please.’

  He hands them over and I slide them into his jacket pockets. A cloud of cigarette smoke drifts over to me as he lights up.

  ‘You still smoke then?’ I say, leaning back on the stone wall behind me. I am starting to feel very swirly and having to concentrate hard on the conversation so as to not make an arse of myself.

  ‘Yeah, my skin’s going to look like shoe leather in twenty years’ time, between these and my crap genes.’

  ‘So how are your mum and dad?’ I ask politely, trying to think of something normal to say.

  He looks at me and laughs, as if I’ve said something amusing, which confuses me a bit. ‘Same old, still at each other’s throats. You know what they’re like. How are you feeling now?’

  ‘OK.’ I try to focus on the square tiles on the ground in front of us. ‘Do they like having two ready-made grandchildren?’

  He hesitates. ‘Sort of. Helen’s kids are a bit feisty—’

  I try to remember the picture I saw. They just looked like two ordinary little girls to me.

  ‘—I get a lot of “You’re not my real dad” flak. He moves over to the stone balustrade in front of us and leans on it. ‘But they’re right, I’m not.’ He shrugs his shoulders. ‘It’s fair enough I guess.’

  ‘Do they still see their real dad?’

  ‘Not really. He’s just a sign-the-cheques parent. Things aren’t very amicable between him and Helen and she doesn’t take any prisoners. He’s filthy rich but very pissed off that – as he sees it – he still has to pay for his ex-wife and her new husband, along with supporting the kids. Nice bloke.’

  ‘Where did you meet her?’

  He half-turns to face me, ‘At a party.’

  Of course he did. Where else?

  The wind stings my face as I look out over the beginnings of a dark golf course. Feeling a vibrating in the jacket pocket I try to work out what it is. ‘I think your phone is ringing.’

  ‘Oh, thanks,’ he straightens up and flicks his fag over the edge of the wall. I reach into his pocket, but drunkenly clumsy, the mobile slips from my fingers as I attempt to pass it to him and clatters to the ground.

  ‘Shit!’ I’m horrified, my hands rush to my mouth as I bend to pick it up. ‘I’m so sorry!’ The screen is displaying the name Amanda. Who is she? I wonder.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he picks it up. ‘Hello? Hi – yeah, it’s me … what?’ he glances at me. ‘No. Not at all.’ He listens intently for a moment then turns away from me, so I can’t see his face. ‘Anyway, you all right?’

  He takes several steps away to the far side of the terrace.

  ‘Probably, yeah.’ I hear him say in a low voice. ‘Yeah – I would if I were you. I’d hate to wake you. Me too.’

  My eyes start to close. I am so tired. Very suddenly, I realise I want to be in a bed.

  He hangs up and comes back over just as I yawn again.

  ‘Am I keeping you up?’ He grins. ‘I should probably get going anyway.’ He holds the phone aloft. ‘That was the other half.’

  Didn’t he say that his wife’s name was Helen? ‘But your phone said Amanda.’ I can’t help myself.

  ‘That’s right,’ he says quickly, ‘Helen phoning on Amanda’s mobile. Amanda’s her daughter.’ He looks at me easily. ‘I expect Hel’s battery was flat, she’s hopeless at charging it up.’

  ‘It’s none of my business anyway,’ I say quickly, thinking, wow, kids really do get mobile phones young these days. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ he smiles. ‘You can say anything to me, you know that.’

  There is a brief pause. He just stands there, looking at me. ‘I’m sorry too, by the way.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘For everything Moll, being such a cunt to you.’

  There is another very long pause indeed.

  ‘Ah, so that’s why you really came here tonight?’ I try to sound light, not give away my shock, and force myself to look straight at him.

  ‘Maybe,’ he says quietly. ‘When I got your message … I – I wish it had never finished like that you know.’

  ‘Me too,’ I say. ‘It was – not nice.’

  ‘I should never have done it.’ He looks ashamed. ‘You were very special to me.’ Bizarrely, that makes me want to laugh. I sound like a favourite pet he had to have put down.

  ‘Don’t, Leo,’ I say kindly. ‘It doesn’t need to be said. It doesn’t matter any more.’ Maybe that was why I messaged him, because it had still somehow been unfinished for me too. Well, not any more. I offer him my hand to shake. ‘We’re OK, you and I.’

  He reaches out and takes it. His hand is warm as he grips mine and the temperature contrast makes me shiver. ‘Cold hands, warm heart,’ he muses and th
en gives it a gentle squeeze before letting it go.

  ‘We should go back in,’ I break the moment.

  ‘You feel all right again?’

  I nod. ‘Yeah – I feel much better now. Thanks.’

  We walk back into the foyer, him carrying my bag for me until we reach the stairs.

  ‘I can’t tempt you to join me while I have just one more for the road?’ he offers.

  I grimace as I slow to a stop. ‘Kind offer – but I’d actually puke.’ I reach out for my bag. ‘Thanks, and thank you for coming to see me too. I really mean that.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he says. ‘I’ll look you up in another few years, shall I? See how you’re getting on.’

  ‘Well maybe,’ I say, ‘but I think we’ve put the world to rights tonight haven’t we?’

  He looks a bit surprised. ‘Fair enough,’ he says eventually. ‘Well, in the next lifetime then.’

  ‘Why not?’ I say. ‘Oh – your jacket!’

  And I slip it off and hand it over to him. He takes it and as our fingers touch, he reaches out further, takes my arm gently and leans towards me. My eyes close automatically for a moment. The smell and familiar feel of him that close to me is well, not pleasant exactly, but somehow an oddly compelling sensation. It reminds me, just for a moment, of other things we’ve done. Things he was pretty good at. I wait to feel his kiss on my cheek but he places it very lightly on my lips. It lasts no more than a flicker of a second, but I almost gasp out loud before I pull back. Who does that? Who kisses people on the mouth like it is a normal and acceptable thing to do? Who? WHO? I only EVER kiss Dan like that – brief kiss or not brief kiss.

  ‘Be good, Moll,’ he says softly, and then winks at me before turning and sauntering out of the hotel, hands in his pockets.

  That did just happen, didn’t it? On the lips? The cheeky …

  Swaying slightly, and clutching my belongings I turn to begin to walk up the stairs to my room before stopping and looking back over my shoulder, but he’s vanished. In trying to right myself, I manage to trip slightly. I glance around hoping no one has noticed, but a woman in her sixties sitting in the lobby leans forward disapprovingly and whispers something to her husband, who turns stiffly in his chair to look. I decide it might be best to just remove myself to bed as quickly as possible. I am clearly still a little tipsy. Everything is starting to feel a bit lopsided …