Wish You Were Here (33 page)

‘Because I don't need your guarantees,' she replied. ‘I've got my own.' She paused. ‘I know I don't know you that well. And maybe you're right about what you're saying. But what I do know is this: you're the first person I've met in a long time who has made me feel like wanting to trust again.'

There was a long silence.

‘So where does this leave us?' I asked.

‘It's up to you,' she said.

So there it was, right in front of me. A big decision that, as Donna had pointed out, was indeed ‘up to me'. And I wanted to do the right thing . . . whatever that might be.

‘This is all wrong,' said Donna, interpreting my reticence as the awkward silence before the delivery of bad news. ‘I feel like I'm crowding you into making a decision, which isn't what I want to do at all.' She sighed. ‘I should go.'

‘Maybe you should,' I replied with a smile.

Donna looked confused.

‘You drive, don't you?' I asked.

She nodded.

‘And you know Brighton pretty well too?'

She nodded again.

‘Good.' I rummaged in my pockets and pulled out the keys to my car and my flat. ‘Well, I don't know what your plans are for tonight but I'd really like it if you'd take my car back to Brighton and stay at mine.'

‘While you do what exactly?'

‘I've got something I need to sort out. I'll tell you everything when I get back in the morning. But for now you'll just have to trust me.'

Donna smiled softly and looked at the keys in her hand. ‘Just like you're trusting me?'

‘Exactly,' I replied. ‘Sometimes you've just got to have a little bit of faith.'

I gave Donna the details of where the car was parked and how to get to my flat and told her to ring me if she needed anything at all. With that done we made our way outside and joined the queue for the shuttle-bus to the car park. It was raining and cold and I realised why Donna was dressed so warmly. Though it was technically August, the weather was more late September. I began to shiver as the cold quickly made its way through my thin summer clothing. Donna put her arms around me. As she pressed her body against mine she looked up and we kissed. While part of me was sure this was a bad idea, given we still had so much to sort out, most of me was simply happy to be caught up in the moment.

As we parted from the kiss Donna bit her lip guiltily and without saying another word, jumped on to the shuttle-bus. As she settled into a seat at the rear of the bus, I was conscious of being scrutinised by her fellow passengers as though I was part of some new form of reality television. I didn't care though. Standing my ground, I shivered patiently until the bus finally pulled away and then, taking in a long, deep breath of cool night air, I made my way back inside the terminal to find Tom.

‘How did that go?' asked Tom when I found him sitting at an empty table in the only café still open.

‘Okay, I think. I hope you don't mind, but I've sent her off to mine in the car. I thought we could wait here to make the call if that's okay?'

‘Here's as good a place as any.'

‘We could always get a hotel or something,' I added. ‘There must be loads around here.'

‘Here's fine,' said Tom. ‘I doubt I'll sleep much anyhow.'

‘So we'll just sit here until morning?'

‘Probably not here, exactly,' replied Tom. ‘The guy at the counter said he's shutting up shop pretty soon.' I looked at my watch. It was twenty minutes past three. ‘Five hours, forty minutes and counting,' said Tom meeting my gaze. ‘Doesn't seem all that long since I woke up this morning,' he paused and laughed. ‘I guess time really does fly fast when you're having fun.'

I told Tom everything that had happened with Donna. When the café finally shut we ended up moving from the arrivals concourse to departures and eventually set up camp on a bench overlooking rows of closed check-in desks. Other than the occasional cleaner pushing large industrial floor sweepers back and forth no one took much notice of us and so we were free to sit and talk uninterrupted for the rest of the night. We talked about our university days, reminding each other of several embarrassing occasions best forgotten, we talked about what we both wanted from life and how we might get it, and then finally as night turned into early morning, we talked about Tom's beliefs and my own. It was an interesting and at times heated discussion and Tom made a number of points to which I genuinely could find no retort. I can't say that he changed the way I thought about religion, because he didn't; what he did was change the way I thought about him. Regardless of my opinions, Tom's faith worked for him in a way that I truly envied. And that's not to say that he didn't seem scared about how the call to the doctor's might go, it was more that I could see in his eyes that – even if the news was bad – the things he believed in would somehow give him comfort.

The café reopened at 6.00 a.m. and we were its first customers of the day. But as the hours passed things gradually became busier until sometime around 8.00 a.m. the café reached critical mass – every table occupied, huge queues at the tills, and the café staff beginning to look hassled.

With only twenty minutes left before Tom made his call, he decided to phone Anne and the kids.

I wondered whether I too should use this opportunity to make a call. The events of the early hours seemed so far away that I almost feared they were an elaborate dream. Though I was happy imagining Donna asleep in my bed, part of me (possibly all of me) wanted to call her and wake her up just to say good morning. Now that a new day had begun I wanted to make a new form of connection with her. But even though I took out my phone several times I just couldn't bring myself to make the call, for fear that things wouldn't be the way I hoped.

When Tom returned to our table he looked even more tired and drawn, as if he had suddenly driven headlong into a brick wall of mental exhaustion.

‘Everything okay?'

Tom shook his head and for the first time I thought he was going to break down. ‘I just can't believe that any of this is really happening,' he said. ‘I feel fine. I feel healthy. Surely if I had something bad I'd feel sick, wouldn't I? I keep telling myself to expect the worst because at least then I'll be prepared for it. But I can't do it. The worst is just too terrifying to think about.'

We sat and stared at our collection of empty coffee cups.

‘How are the kids?' I asked, eventually.

‘They're fine,' replied Tom. ‘They've been playing their gran up big time this morning, which can only be a good thing. Anne and her mum took them to a butterfly farm yesterday. Apparently Katie now wants to be a butterfly farmer when she grows up and Callum wants to be a caterpillar . . . because they get to spend all day eating.'

‘Does he like his food, then, Callum?'

‘He can eat for England.'

‘I'd love to see them again. I bet they've grown loads since I last saw them.'

‘They'd love to see you, too. They're really curious about you. When I told them I was going to Crete with my friend Charlie you took on this strange mystique in their heads. Now they think you live in Crete and for some reason they've got hold of the idea you're very tall.' Tom stopped abruptly. ‘Will you do something for me?'

‘Yeah, of course,' I replied. ‘Whatever you want.'

‘If this does turn out to be bad news, will you promise me you'll always keep in touch with my kids?'

‘Of course.'

‘It's just that they're young. They'll forget.'

‘Of course they won't. You're their dad. And anyway Anne will remind them about you all the time.'

‘I know. And she will do a great job. But I want them to know
all
about me. I want them to know what their dad was really like. I want them to know that I struggled with life just like they'll have to. I don't want them to grow up thinking I was perfect.' Tom looked at his watch again. ‘It's time,' he said quietly.

‘Where do you want to do this?'

‘Here's fine.'

‘Are you sure?'

He nodded, almost glaring at his phone in anger. I found myself holding my breath as he began dialling his doctor's number. Even though the air was ringing with the constant chatter of dozens of different conversations, I could still make out the high-pitched tones of each number pressed on his keypad. I couldn't begin to imagine what he might be going through. At least not on any meaningful level. How would I know how it might feel to have everything that I loved balancing precariously on a knife-edge? I didn't have a wife. I didn't have kids. There was only me.

Entering the final digit into his phone Tom breathed deeply and put the phone up to his ear. His face contorted in rage and he threw the phone down on the floor. ‘They're fucking engaged,' he said kicking the empty chair next to him with such force that it toppled over. Everyone in the café turned and stared at him.

‘It's all right, mate,' I said grabbing him by the arm in a bid to calm him down. ‘Look, I'll make the call and as soon as someone answers, I'll pass them over to you when they answer.'

Tom nodded and calmed down. ‘Thanks,' he replied as he rescued his phone from the floor. ‘I'm sorry about that.'

‘Don't worry about it,' I replied. ‘You wait here and I'll keep trying until I get through.'

Making my way out of the café, I headed in the direction of the nearest newsagent's in search of a morning newspaper as a distraction. On the way I tried the number twice and each time got the engaged tone. In a bid to try to calm myself down, I told myself that I wouldn't try again until I'd read the headlines on every single newspaper in the shop. And that's just what I did. It was the usual mix of politics and celebrity scandal, although one newspaper headline was dedicated to the poor weather the nation had been suffering in recent days. Even after seven days away, none of it was a surprise. Just more of the same.

I pulled out the phone again and pressed redial. And my heart began to race when, instead of the engaged tone, I finally got a connection. As I ran back to Tom at full pelt a voice at the other end of the line answered my call.

‘Brookdene Road Surgery,' said a female voice brightly.

‘Hi,' I replied, as I finally reached the café. ‘Could you just hang on a second?'

I barely dared to breathe as Tom took the phone from my hand and told the woman his name, the reason for his call and his date of birth. And I continued to hold my breath as Tom closed his eyes as he waited for the news. In a split second everything changed. He'd been given the test results. And the news was good. To this day I've never seen an expression more life affirming than the one on Tom's face. What the customers in the café must have thought as I threw my arms around Tom I don't know. And I don't care either. All that mattered was that he was okay.

I felt exhilarated as Tom and I grabbed our suitcases and made our way towards the train station. I was so euphoric that I wanted to stop complete strangers and tell them his good news.

At the station I bought a single ticket back to Brighton, while Tom bought a ticket into London so that he could get his train back to Coventry.

‘Thanks for everything, Charlie,' said Tom, as we arrived at his platform just as the service into central London came to a halt and the doors opened. ‘I wouldn't have been able to get through any of this without you.'

‘You did it all yourself, Tom,' I replied. ‘I didn't do a single thing. I'm just glad you're okay.'

‘You'll come up and see us though won't you?' He picked up his bags. ‘Anne was saying this morning that she would love to see you again.'

‘I'll definitely come up. And you should bring them all down to Brighton one weekend too. Brighton beach might not be quite up to the standard of the ones in Crete but it'll do for a half-term break.'

We shook hands and Tom looked at me thoughtfully. ‘I hope everything goes well with Donna,' he said. ‘You deserve to be happy.'

As Tom boarded the train I remained on the platform, lost in my own thoughts, long after it had departed. I was thinking about the holiday again, and about Donna, Lisa and Sarah too but most of all I was thinking about Andy. I still couldn't believe what I'd done to him. I still couldn't believe that I'd betrayed him like that. And even though I knew it was likely that I would never see him again I couldn't stand the thought that I'd let him down so badly. As I made my way out of the station to get a taxi I pulled out my phone. ‘
It'll be mid-morning now in Crete
,' I thought as I looked at my watch and I couldn't help but raise a small smile as I wondered whether Andy would be up yet. I dialled his number and determined to find out. The phone seem to ring forever but eventually someone answered.

‘Hello?' said a groggy female voice.

‘Lisa, it's me, Charlie.'

‘Oh, Charlie . . . I'm sorry, I was fast asleep. Are you back home? How's Tom? Has he had his results yet? Is he okay?'

‘He's fine. The results were negative.'

‘That's fantastic!' There was a long pause while I heard her relay the news to Andy. I found myself smiling as I heard Andy let out a huge roar as though he'd just scored a goal in a world cup final. ‘I'm so pleased, Charlie. I really am. If you speak to Tom tell him we'll ring him soon.'

‘I will do.'

There was a short pause.