The Flip Side

by James Bailey

  Jake abandons me to join in with the growing conga line, leaving me to stand awkwardly on the side of the room, resting against the wall. I spot the maintenance man pinching a receptionist’s bum as he goes to refill his drink.

  Then I see her across the dance floor.

  She notices me simultaneously, and our eyes meet. My heart skips a beat. It’s the first time I’ve seen her since that night. I’m not sure whether I should go over to her, but she makes the decision and skips toward me. It’s clear before she gets to me that she’s had too much to drink. I remember how playful she’d get after a few glasses of wine.

  “Hey, baby,” Jade says as she jumps up and leaves a lingering kiss on my cheek, as if the last year hasn’t happened. This is the woman who broke my heart, and the first thing she says to me after eleven months is “Hey, baby.”

  “What are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you,” I say.

  I’m glad I wore my tuxedo after all. Show her what she’s missing.

  “Dad was invited to represent our hotel but couldn’t come, so I’m here instead. He only let me know an hour ago, though, so I missed most of the meal.”

  She looks amazing for someone who only just found out about the party. She’s wearing a fancy red dress that I’ve not seen before, and her hair, more natural-colored than last time I saw her, is tied up with a sparkling hair clip. Her lipstick matches her dress.

  “Is George not here with you tonight?” I can’t help myself.

  “No, we broke up. He went back to his wife.”

  I’d expect her to announce this sheepishly, but she shouts it over the music.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, before realizing that I am apologizing that my ex’s relationship with the man she cheated on me with, and subsequently left me for, didn’t pan out successfully.

  “How about you, anyway? Did you find this girl you were looking for?” She’s now brushing her face up against mine to speak over the noise of the Weather Girls. I can smell the red wine on her breath. For someone who missed most of the meal, she’s clearly managed to make the most of the free drinks.

  “How did you know about that?” I reply, our eyes meeting again. Flashes of memories flood back.

  She looks around the room, before eventually answering.

  “I can’t remember, I think I must have seen Jake’s Instagram posts about it.”

  “OK. Yes, I found her, but it didn’t work out.” I feel embarrassed that I don’t have something to provoke a little more jealousy.

  “So we’re both single, then?”

  “I guess we are.”

  The music is too loud for us to converse properly. I have to read her lips to understand what she is saying.

  “Remember when we came here?” she shouts again.

  “To the zoo? Yes, it was a fun day, wasn’t it?”

  We both look at each other. I think back to that date at the zoo, and the first time we slept together afterward.

  “Do you want to get out of here?” she asks, pointing her head toward the exit.

  As Cathleen is lifted into the air and then painfully dropped on the floor in a clumsy re-creation of the Dirty Dancing lift, I decide I can’t endure watching her boogie to cheesy eighties hits anymore. The coin tells me it’s time to make my exit, so I leave Jake in his element and head outside with Jade, where we can hear each other without shouting.

  “So how have you been?” she asks as we walk away from the confines of the zoo, the cool air bracing.

  Is this really happening?

  “Honestly, I’ve been better . . . Pap died.”

  “I’m sorry, Josh.” She takes my hand. “I know how close you two were.”

  “And I’m not really sure what I’m doing workwise. I’ve finally been offered a job—”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, I suppose so, but I’m not sure it’s really what I want to do.”

  I realize we’re still holding hands.

  “And then I thought I’d met someone else . . . but I mucked it up. And they’re never going to want to see me again.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  A group of drunk students stagger past us.

  “I’m sorry, as well, about what happened . . . you know, with us.” She stumbles over her words.

  Even if it’s just a drunken apology, it’s nice to hear her say it.

  “Why did you do it?”

  “You know what, it sounds stupid now, but I think you were just too nice. Is that weird? I just think there needs to be a balance. Sometimes a girl likes a wanker.”

  I’ve been a wanker for the whole year since you left me.

  “So was George less nice, then?”

  “He was a right dick,” she shouts as if we were still at the party, and I’m not a few centimeters away. “I found out he was also sleeping with a receptionist at a hotel in London.”

  “Sorry.”

  Why do I keep apologizing?

  “To be honest, after the excitement went we had nothing in common. I actually missed the stuff that me and you used to do together.”

  “Really?”

  As much due to routine as desire, we end up strolling back to Jade’s flat. As she unlocks the door and I follow behind, I realize I didn’t think I’d ever be back here.

  “Can you get the bottle of wine from the kitchen? There is one opened,” she says as she kicks her shoes off and collapses onto the sofa.

  I still remember where everything is kept, and despite neither of us needing more to drink, I grab two glasses with the bottle of Pinot.

  I know Jake told me there would be people I knew at the party, but I didn’t envisage my evening going like this.

  “There’s actually something else,” she says as I take a seat next to her.

  She downs her glass and turns to face me.

  “So . . . I . . . I’m sorry as well that I sabotaged your search for that girl. I don’t know, I guess I was jealous,” she slurs.

  “Wait. What? What do you mean? What did you do?”

  She reaches for the wine and, rather than pouring another glass, she takes a swig from the bottle.

  “Jade, what did you do?” I say in a serious voice.

  “I may have sent a message to Jessie saying I was the girl and I didn’t want you to find me. But come on, look how well it worked—you’d much prefer to be here right now with me than with that girl, wouldn’t you?”

  “You mean the message that said she was moving with her boyfriend? That was you?”

  Of course. It all makes sense.

  “And you knew what clothes I was wearing as you’d have seen photos of us at the marathon on Facebook.”

  “Yes, it was quite clever, wasn’t it?”

  I look at Jade, unsure whether I should be furious or flattered. For the first time since we broke up, I feel sorry for her rather than for myself.

  She takes my hand.

  “Why did you do it?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’ve missed you, Josh.”

  She leans over and snogs me, her tongue caressing mine. For thirty seconds, I don’t taste the red wine, but rather I’m transported to a parallel universe where everything worked out differently, where different choices were made, where this is right. I run my hands through her hair, and down her back, holding her, intoxicated by her perfume.

  That same scent that filled the London Eye.

  She starts to unbutton my shirt.

  What am I doing?

  “Sorry, give me a minute,” I say as I lean away and retreat to the bathroom. I am not prepared for this.

  “Sure. Be quick.” She winks.

  I lock the bathroom door and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I used to look at this view of myself every day, and I consider whether my portrait has changed since the last time I was here.

  Have I changed in the last year?

  I slowly take the coin out of my pocket.

  The coin I
picked up after she broke my heart.

  My heart is thumping, my head hurting.

  Just say no, Josh, and get out of here.

  It spirals up and lands in the palm of my hand.

  I turn the coin over onto the back of my hand. Heads, I do this, tails, I don’t.

  I look down.

  It’s heads.

  This is what I wanted, isn’t it?

  What about Lucy?

  Best of three?

  Heads. Again.

  Just one night. For old time’s sake. I’m never going to see Lucy again anyway.

  I can’t do this. Not after what Jade did to me.

  Best of five?

  Heads.

  Heads.

  Heads.

  What are the chances?

  I made a vow to abide by the coin. I’ve got to listen to it.

  I pull open the bathroom door and walk through the lounge, where her red dress is now discarded on the floor. I enter the bedroom.

  She is lying on the bed, completely naked.

  39

  My heart is racing. Am I really going to do this?

  I hear the shop door opening, and the sound of her footsteps against the tiles as she makes her way across the ground floor below. I start playing as I hear the wooden floorboards of the narrow staircase creak. I practiced enough on Pap’s old organ when I was helping Nan sort through all his possessions, but it is different playing on a piano, especially this old rickety one. It is made even more difficult when my heart is thumping through my chest and my hands are sweaty.

  I can’t see her from my angle as I sit on the small piano stool tucked into the corner of the room, which is overrun with books piled everywhere. I don’t know how she is going to react, or what she is going to say. I look up to see if I can see her approaching but I miss one of the keys and immediately have to look back at the piano again. I want to see her face.

  Concentrate, Josh.

  I glance over to my left again, and she is suddenly there, sitting on one of the Tumbleweeds’ makeshift beds. She’s smiling and looking like she’s doing her best not to cry. I desperately want to get up from the stool and embrace her but I carry on playing until the end of the song. The fairy lights hanging from the ceiling twinkle, the candles flicker, and the antique chandelier gleams, now with all three light bulbs restored.

  As I play the final note, she gives me a standing ovation and, jokingly, shouts, “Encore.”

  “No more tonight, I’m afraid. I would, but apparently there’s a curfew here at 10.07 p.m. The cat’s bedtime, you see,” I say as I check my watch. “Sorry for some of the notes.”

  “That’s OK, it was lovely. Really. I can’t believe you actually learned to play.”

  “I know I said I was going to learn a Beethoven piano concerto, but hopefully Ed Sheeran will do for now.”

  “It was perfect.”

  “Well, it was meant to be ‘Perfect.’” I joke about the double meaning of the song title.

  I didn’t think I’d ever get to see her smile again.

  I don’t know whether to hug her or kiss her, but as I stand up, I stay rooted to the spot, my feet firm on the hexagonal terra-cotta tiles.

  “How did you do all of this? How did you get in here?”

  “Let’s just say your latest Tumbleweed is a lot more friendly than the last one I spoke to. He’s come to Paris himself looking for love, so he understood and helped me out. He’s upstairs right now, with the cat. You told me you always lock up every Friday night, so I just hoped you hadn’t changed your routine, otherwise I’d have been waiting all night to play this piano.”

  “It’s all incredibly thoughtful of you. As you can see, I really do appreciate it.” She takes a tissue out of her handbag and dabs her teary eyes.

  “Look, I’m so sorry, Lucy, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the coin, but I promise it’s not how it sounds,” I stutter.

  I try my best to compose myself. I am struggling to breathe.

  “At the start of the year, I had absolutely no faith in my ability to make decisions. I was completely lost in life. I started tossing the coin, hoping it would solve all my problems and give me some direction. The truth is, I still don’t know what I want to do with my life, or even where I want to do it, but from the very first moment I saw you, I knew I was certain about one thing. I hoped the coin would help me find myself, and in the process I found you.”

  Unlike with Emma, or Olivia, I’ve not rehearsed anything.

  I’d simply realized, as I stood in Jade’s bathroom, that I missed Jade’s flat more than I missed her. I realized that I’m grateful for the relationship we had, highs and lows, but that it was over. Most of all, I realized Lucy is the only girl I want to be with. I disobeyed the coin’s decision for the first time, left Jade’s immediately, and traveled to Paris.

  I pause, trying to think of what to say next.

  “I didn’t need the coin to tell me to voyage around Europe on a crazy hunt to find you, I did it . . . I did it because I couldn’t imagine not seeing you again. I’ve probably made something like ten million decisions this year, but that was by far the best one. I had an amazing time with you and I only left Paris that night as my grandad was in hospital . . . he died.” I struggle to say it.

  “Oh, Josh, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s OK, but it made me think, as you said in the cemetery, life really is short. And thinking about the relationship my grandparents had, Pap’s life wasn’t great because of what he did or didn’t do, it was great because he had someone special beside him the whole way. I don’t know if we will work out. Maybe this will be something, maybe it will be nothing. But what I realized is, just as you don’t need to know the end of books, I don’t need to know how this story ends. I just want to spend more time with you and see what happens.”

  Even I’m surprised by how that came out.

  “So, yeah, that’s it really,” I say, running out of steam and finally taking a breath. “What do you say?” I ask, hopefully.

  The shop is completely silent apart from the noise of Parisian traffic outside. It is probably only a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity waiting for Lucy to answer.

  “What can I say to that?”

  She is the one who now needs to pause to compose herself. She is unable to hold the tears back any longer. I am close to joining her.

  “I’m so sorry about your grandad. I wish I’d known so I could have been there for you. I feel awful now about blocking your calls . . .” She takes a deep breath. “But . . . I have to know—did you use the coin to pick between me and another girl?”

  “No, of course not. I’m sorry that’s how it sounded, it was never like that. . . . Since I met you, you’re the only girl I’ve thought about. It was only when Mum—”

  “Stop talking, Josh. I believe you. I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain it at the time. I guess I was worried about being hurt again, and I just felt stupid for trusting you so quickly, for falling for you and for some idealized crazy romance, and I guess it made me think I didn’t know you at all.”

  “You do know me. What you’ve seen really is me. I promise this is all real but I agree, I would love to get to know you more, and for you to get to know me more.”

  “I’d like that too.” She smiles.

  I smile back, relieved.

  As I go to hug her, her smile fades.

  “But there’s something else, Josh, that you don’t know. The thing is, this is actually the last time I’m locking the shop up. I’m actually leaving Paris tomorrow. I’m moving back to London for a few weeks to spend Christmas with my family and then I’m going traveling.”

  This can’t be. Not after everything.

  “Where are you going?” I say despairingly.

  “Starting in Europe and seeing how far I get, really. No plan as such. I just want to see as much of the world as I can.”

  “Do you know when you’re going to be back?”

  “Not for a while. I
don’t know—six months? A year, maybe? Probably whenever my money runs out.”

  A year?

  My big romantic gesture and hopes of a reunion are going up in flames.

  We stand there in silence, contemplating everything.

  “I don’t really want to have to wait a year to see you again, to see if there’s anything between us. I feel like we’ve already wasted enough time,” I say, boldly.

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “How would you feel about having a travel companion?”

  “But what about your life? You can’t just drop everything.”

  “I can, and I want to. Pap actually left me a bit of money in his will, and I think he’d approve of me spending it on seeing the world, especially with you.”

  I look at her, desperately hoping she will say yes. She looks down at the floor, thinking.

  “I think the only fair thing would be to flip the coin—right, Josh? Isn’t that how all of this works?” She smirks.

  My expectant face morphs into a shocked one. I no longer like the odds of a coin toss. My heart is beating so rapidly it feels like I’m going to explode.

  “Are you being serious?”

  “Yes, go on, flip the coin. Heads . . . we head off into the sunset together. Tails, we say au revoir for now.”

  I rub the coin, for luck, before tossing it into the air. It feels like it’s moving in slow motion, somersaulting like an Olympic gymnast, rotating, twisting, and taking an eternity to fall back to earth, into my outstretched palm.

  I can barely bring myself to look at the verdict.

  “Yes! It’s heads!”

  In a shop where thousands of romances have played out, there, in the middle of the first floor of Shakespeare and Company bookshop on the Left Bank of Paris, I finally kiss the most beautiful girl in the world.

  Her soft lips brush delicately against mine, curious and tentative at first, and then suddenly more confident, more determined, more firm. She runs her fingers through my hair as I hold her tightly in my arms, not wanting to ever let her go. We pause for a second, so we can get our breath back. I wipe a warm tear from her cheek, we share a smile, and as the taste of her peppermint Chapstick lingers in my mouth, I lean in again for more.