The Bucket List to Mend a Broken Heart (11 page)

‘What’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

I’m still not speaking and I’m not even preparing my scone.

‘Abi?’

‘Joseph’s here,’ I say in a whisper.

‘Joseph? What, your Joseph?’ says Sian, leaning into the table conspiratorially.

‘Yep,’ I say, sighing.

I can’t believe he’s
here. I mean, I know that we’re only here because of him, but of all the times for him to come.

‘Where?’ she says, looking round like a meerkat surveying the desert.

I put my hand up to the side of my face as if to shield me. ‘There. Look. Behind you, to the right.’

We’re treated to a view of the back of his head, and unfortunately for me, that means we’re facing his female companion, who I
get to see in all her glory.

She, unlike me, looks like she belongs in the Ritz. Her brown hair is wrapped and pinned neatly on top of her head, with a grown-up fringe that frames her face perfectly. She’s dressed in a long-sleeved black dress overlaid with lace. Her ears sparkle from the diamond earrings dropping from her delicate earlobes and there’s a matching bracelet dangling off her wrist.

I look down at my electric-blue skater dress that I’d matched with tights and a black cardigan. I feel bright and showy rather than elegant and classy like her. I start to feel foolish for being here at all. Maybe it’s not enough to simply be here. Maybe I’m just not that type of woman.

‘Did he see you?’ says Sian, turning her head round to face me.

‘That’s the weird thing, I’m sure he looked
right at me, but he didn’t even flinch. It’s not even like he was pretending not to have seen me, more like he didn’t.’

‘Maybe he didn’t recognise you with your new haircut.’

My hand instinctively goes up to my bob and I run my fingers through it.

‘Surely I can’t look that different?’

‘You do – it’s completely changed your look.’

My mind’s in a maelstrom as I try and work out if I’m going
to be able to continue to sit here with Joseph so close to me.

‘Do you think I should go and speak to him? Thank him for bringing my box back?’

‘Ordinarily I’d say no, but it seems such a shame not to when you’re looking so good. I mean, how many times do you get to run into your ex after a break-up when you’re dressed to impress?’ says Sian, echoing what I’m thinking.

Only he’s with a woman.
I stare absentmindedly at the cakes in front of me. My appetite has disappeared.

‘But look at his new girlfriend – she’s stunning and I don’t want to make an idiot of myself.’

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.’