CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Alex and I were in the restaurant but I felt too excited to eat. He ordered some kind of vegetable tartlet for a starter. ‘Are you sure you don’t want anything, pumpkin?’ I watched him picking something from his tooth. I knew I had to say something. Guilt was leaving an oily taste in my mouth. ‘Wretched spinach,’ he laughed.
‘I don’t think it’s working.’
‘I know, it really is stuck.’ He was ramming his nail down the side of his tooth.
‘No, Alex, I mean us. It’s not working.’
‘What?’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Right. What do you mean?’
‘It’s me, not you,’ I tried to assure him lamely. He excused himself, suddenly saying he had to nip to the loo.
*
After the meal Alex offered to drive me home even when I had said I could catch a taxi. He insisted. We were driving in silence when my mobile started to ring.
‘It’s me. I want to see you tonight.’
‘I can’t talk now. Call me tomorrow.’ I hung up, fingers trembling.
Alex turned briefly to me, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. ‘That was Finn, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘He’s the reason, isn’t he? Not the spinach picking?’ He laughed weakly.
‘Yes.’ There was no point in lying.
‘Josie, I really like you. Are you sure we can’t make a go of things?’
I shook my head. Never in my mind had I been clearer about anything.
*
The following morning Finn called again, this time at the office. We arranged to meet in the evening. I started to rearrange my desk, a pointless task but I was so jittery I had to do something. ‘Stop humming,’ one of my colleagues shouted across to me. ‘You’ve been doing it all bloody morning.’
Right, calm down. It’s only a date. We might have nothing in common anymore. It could be a disaster.
‘David wake up! I have all your flight details for tomorrow. Gatwick, south terminal, two-thirty check-in time.’ My voice had lost that nagging edge. I was too happy to be cross with him.
‘You’re a star, Josie.’
‘David, as much as I love being your nagging wife, I need to talk to you about what I want to do next. I need to use my degree. I’ve learnt so much from you but …’
He stopped me. ‘Josie, you can do anything you want. I’d give you a golden reference. I’ve been lucky to have you with me for this long.’
I was glowing with pride. ‘Thank you. By the way, just because you complimented me doesn’t mean I can work late tonight!’
‘Hot date?’
‘Yes, sizzling!’
*
We met in a small Thai restaurant. We were both looking at the large white menus, pretending to be absorbed in what to choose for a starter. Finn had put on his glasses to read. ‘I’m thinking of having laser treatment,’ he said, ‘because I hate wearing contacts.’
‘They suit you, the glasses.’
‘Thanks.’
‘The prawns sound nice,’ I said blandly, the words on the page blurring into one another. Our menus were shielding us from finding out anything we didn’t want to know about each other. Like Finn had a child or I was engaged or had some hideous disease. The menus were swept away then, along with the wine list, leaving our table bare. It was just Finn and me with nothing between us anymore.
Where did we start? ‘Five questions,’ he suggested, ‘to cover the five years we haven’t seen each other?’ He poured us both another glass of white wine.
‘OK. Me first.’
Why did you stop calling?
‘Did you finish your degree?’
‘Yes. Thanks to you,’ he quickly added. ‘Really, I mean it. I went to London after three years at Cambridge. I trained at St Mary’s and surrounding hospitals. I went to Chicago for eight weeks, too, and worked in the trauma ward.’
I was gripping my napkin tightly, knees pressed together. ‘Was it like
ER
?’
‘Kind of. I saw gun-shot wounds and terrible car accidents and stabbings. People jumping off buildings.’ I was nodding as he spoke, interested, of course, but all I wanted to do was to cut through all the formalities and get right to it. ‘Pretty grim but exciting to have the experience,’ he went on.
‘How did you do in your finals?’
Finn actually blushed. So there was a humble gene in his body. ‘You’ll think I’m showing off,’ he said, running one hand through his hair.
I smiled. ‘That depends on how you say it, doesn’t it?’
He looked relieved, familiarity beginning to set in. ‘You haven’t changed, Josie. OK. Well, I got a 2:1 overall at Cambridge in my pre-clinical degree. It was in biological anthropology, you know, studying genetics, evolution of man and the monkey/ape kingdom.’
‘Oh yes,’ I nodded, trying to keep a straight face, ‘I know all that.’
Finn smiled. ‘And then for the next three years at medical school, my MB, BS, medical bachelor, bachelor of surgery,’ he described earnestly, ‘I passed with As in all my subjects and distinctions in obs and gynae, and medicine. Those exams were hell, though, especially the clinical ones. You have this high-flying consultant dressed in a power suit expecting you to know exactly what is wrong with patient A, a child with asthma, or patient B who has kidney failure. It’s terrifying.’
‘I can imagine. Well done. You deserve it.’
Have you got a girlfriend?
‘So what stage are you at now?’
‘I’ve just become a senior house officer.’
Are you in love?
‘Which means?’
‘I spend most of my time on the wards, chasing results for X-rays and bloods,’ he explained modestly. I leant forward, cupping one hand under my chin and biting my little finger, desperately trying to focus on what he was saying. ‘I get to be in clinic, though, twice a week. It’s not as menial as being a house officer. They have to do everything they are told.’
‘I bet you didn’t like that?’ I was playing with my fork now. It slipped onto the floor.
‘I forgot you were clumsy. Here, let me get it.’
He bent down to retrieve it from under the table. I fanned my face with the napkin and then inhaled sharply when I felt his hand stroking my leg, touching my anklebone. I was wearing red high heels.
He sat up again. ‘No, but that’s the way it is,’ he said with that old flicker of a smile. I was nodding but I’d forgotten my question.
‘Do you mind if I smoke?’
I nearly laughed. So much more grown up than our smoky student nights. Here we were in a formal restaurant with Finn having to ask if he could light up, and both of us sitting straight at the table when all I wanted to do was let my body melt into his.
‘No.’
Finn reached into his shirt pocket to get a packet of cigarettes. Even the way he lit one was sexy. He held it to his mouth and inhaled. I watched the smoke cloud between us. ‘What are we doing here, Finn?’ Cut to the chase.
He rolled up one of his sleeves. ‘I did think about you, a lot. All of the time.’
Already I wanted to hold him. Discover him all over again. But it was too easy for Finn, wasn’t it? I wondered if he had ever had to work at a relationship or did girls still flock to him at a click of his fingers? He flicked away some ash, not taking his eyes off me.
‘You stopped calling,’ I said.
‘I wasn’t sure it was a good thing, stepping back into the past. I was scared of what I’d find. You with someone else perhaps.’
I leant in closer. I didn’t want people to overhear. ‘Is that more terrifying than never seeing me again? For Christ’s sake, Finn, that’s so cowardly. I left you messages when I was abroad.’ After that night with Clarky I had wanted to talk to Finn more than anyone else. Clarky and I weren’t really talking properly any more, and don’t you always want something familiar when everything else feels so alien?
‘Josie, I was too wrapped up in my life, I know that now. What we had at Cambridge, it was a snapshot of happiness, almost too good to be true. I didn’t want to tarnish it with disappointment. It wasn’t the right time, not with you travelling. But isn’t it a sign that we’ve found each other again now? This is our time.’
‘So you’re finally ready for me?’ I reached across the table for a cigarette.
He looked lost, as if the flow of conversation was going against the current. ‘I didn’t know you smoked? I would have …’
‘Finn, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.’ He lit it for me and I inhaled deeply. When we met at Cambridge he had seemed so much older, better travelled in every way. But now, five years on, things were different.
He leaned towards me, trying to touch my hand but I moved it firmly away from him. However excited I had been about seeing him, I had to do this right. I needed to know he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
‘What if I don’t want to be hurt again? The easiest thing to do is see you tonight, then we go our separate ways again. No hard feelings.’
I would die a tragic death if he agreed but I had to risk it.
‘I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to let you go again.’ The tempo of his voice changed. He had to work harder now. ‘Who was that man you were with last night?’
‘Alex.’
‘I know his name,’ he said, his tone as sharp as a blade. ‘He’s not your type.’
I laughed. ‘You don’t know what my type is.’
He shook his head crossly. ‘You don’t go out with someone who says the word
item
. He’s too rock steady for you.’
‘But someone like you, someone so elusive that I never see him, is my type?’
‘We were teenagers!’ he shouts out and then glances sideways to see if people are listening. They pretend to be absorbed in their food but I can sense their ears twitching. ‘J, I can’t turn back time but I can do something now. Please tell me you’re not serious about him?’
‘It’s not that straightforward.’
‘When we saw each other last night, you can’t tell me there was nothing between us?’
My willpower was weakening.
‘If you are serious, I’ll fight for you.’ His hands clenched into fists. ‘It’s as simple as that. Tell me you’re happy I came back into your life. That’s all I need to know.’
Was it me or had the whole room suddenly dissolved into silence until all I could hear was my own breathing?
‘I’m happy.’
There was relief in his smile now. ‘Shall we stop wasting time and get out of here?’ he suggested.
I felt too enclosed by other tables, trapped by other people’s conversations. We stubbed out our cigarettes immediately. A few people looked up from their tables, wondering what the sudden urgency was.
‘Excuse me,’ shouted the waiter. ‘Your prawns in blankets, sir! You haven’t paid!’ Finn slammed a fifty-pound note onto the table. I had to look at it to make sure. ‘I’ll take this,’ he said, picking up the bottle of wine, ‘but I’m feeling rich,’ he told the waiter. ‘I’ve just met the girl I love again, so keep the change.’
*
Finn and I climbed the three floors up to my flat. Before I had even opened the door he was kissing me. We were both out of breath, the stairs seeming never-ending and steeper than usual. I was trying to put the key into the lock but it kept on slipping. ‘Finn,’ I murmured as he lifted my hair and kissed the back of my neck. I turned to him. He pushed me against the door, my back hitting the letterbox. He was unbuttoning my top. ‘Inside,’ I said, ‘someone will see us.’
He groaned with frustration. ‘All right. Open the door.’
‘I’m trying! If you’ll leave me alone for a minute.’
‘I can’t leave you alone for a second.’
I could hear him drinking from the bottle of wine. He left it on the dirty cream carpet in the hallway and put both arms around my waist, his mouth pressed against the back of my shoulder. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the smell of my skin.
‘Finn.’ I hunched my shoulders. His touch was jogging my hand. I was laughing now as I attempted to hold it steady. We were like time bombs primed to go off if we didn’t have each other right now.
Only a few steps inside and Finn and I were pulling at each other’s clothes like clumsy teenagers again. We weren’t trying to impress or seduce; we just wanted each other. He unzipped the back of my black dress but the zip got caught. With one swift tug it came loose, the material tearing. ‘Hope it wasn’t expensive,’ he said. I tripped on the dress and we both crashed into the table, the light and phone hitting the floor. I reached with one hand to find the switch on the wall but Finn pulled it away.
‘Did you have lots of girls at Cambridge?’ I unbuttoned his shirt quickly.
‘One … or two.’
I pushed him down onto the sofa. ‘Did you go out with Dominique?’
‘Briefly … Said I was too moody.’
‘Never! You?’ He pulled me down with him onto the white rug. Finn’s arms were around my back, unhooking my bra. He kicked his shoes off.
My hand was inside his trousers. ‘She … never … knew … where she stood … was Alex a good fuck?’
‘Was Dominique?’
Our lips were pressed together, our bodies hot. ‘Who cares?’ he said. ‘The only person I want to be with right now is you.’
*
We made love on the sitting-room floor; we made love in the shower, cleansing our bodies of past loves, until our skin was red and raw and we could feel only each other. We made ourselves some bacon and toast in my tiny orange-painted kitchen at three in the morning, laughing and kissing as both burnt. ‘Shit!’ Finn plunged the pan into cold water. Nice idea to distract ourselves from each other for a minute but it hadn’t worked.
We didn’t want to fall asleep. We could hear the sounds of my flat: the tick of the clock, the sudden rush of water in the pipes, the wind rustling through the leaves of a tree outside in anticipation of morning. We lay face-to-face, the light beginning to creep in through my bedroom window like the enemy, reminding us that a new day was about to begin. Finn hadn’t changed, his hair still soft and slightly uneven at the back, that small neat scar to the side of his left eye telling its story. In many ways he looked younger than in his grungy student days with the dyed hair and stubble. The only signs of an older Finn were two small frown lines which gave his face more character. If possible, he was even more beautiful. ‘What do you do now?’ he asked. ‘I want to know everything. Are you still painting?’
‘Yes, whenever I can.’
‘I remember you told me you wanted your own exhibition. You said you’d be the hottest thing in London.’