That must be it. They’ve brought me a drink to help calm my nerves. And they’ve broughthima drink for…helpingme calm mynerves? I don’t know. I’m not about to say no to a freebie, though, so I pick up one of the glasses, and turn to Alex expectantly.
“No thanks,” he says, stony faced. “I’m fine with water.”
He takes a plastic bottle of Evian from the seat pocket in front of him and waves it at the flight attendant to prove his point.
Wow, he really is a complete fun sponge, isn’t he? It’s almost as ifhe’ssad, so he’s determined to make sure everyone else is, too.
“Well, I’ll take it if he doesn’t want it,” says Rita, whisking the second glass off the tray before anyone can object.
“Oh. It wasn’t really for… But okay, sure,” says the crew member, backing away slowly. “I’ll be back for the glasses later.”
“What were you sayin’, love?” asks Rita, draining her glass. “Before we got distracted by your period?”
“I. Don’t. Have. My. Period,” I tell her again in a stage whisper. “I was just saying that I feel a bit stupid now, going all the way to Spain on what’s probably going to be a wild goose-chase. Even if I do track Jamie down, what if he doesn’t remember me? What if he doesn’t want anything to do with me?”
“What if he’s married?” puts in Alex, still without opening his eyes.
“I thought you were pretending to be asleep?” I say, annoyed. “Anyway, he’s not married. I had a good look at his Instagram, and he’s very much living the single life.”
“Sounds like a real catch,” says Alex dryly. “Single in his thirties and working in a bar.”
“Heownsthe bar, he doesn’t justworkin it,” I reply, attempting to flip my hair sassily over my shoulder, and almost blackening his other eye in the process. “And anyway,youcan’t talk, can you? You’re going on holiday on your own, so I’m guessing you’re single in your thirtiestoo, aren’t you?”
I have to admit, I’m curious to know the answer to this one. He’s not wearing a wedding ring, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend, even. I feel like he’s too good-lookingnotto have one, really. But then, why wouldn’t they be with him, if so?
And why do I care?
The arm next to me stiffens, and his mouth settles into its customary frown, but he doesn’t bother to answer me; or even to glance in my direction. He just keeps sitting there, like my own personal Dementor, determined to suck the joy out of every second.
“There’s nothing wrong with going on holiday on your own,” says Rita cheerfully. “We’re all doin’ it, ain’t we? We’re like the three amigos! Two Crones and a Young Man.”
She raises her glass in a toast, and what’s left of the champagne sloshes right onto my cleavage, then dribbles down my front to land on the diary, which I’m still holding. Alex smirks.
“I’ll get that for you,” offers Gerald, popping up from behind us again with a napkin in his hand. I bat him away, and pick up my diary again, mopping at the cover with my sleeve.
“So, what are you going to say to this Jamie when you see him, then?” asks Rita. “Are you going to tell him he’s the love of your life?”
“Um, no, I… I don’t think that would be a good idea,” I tell her cautiously, not wanting to admit that there’s a solid chance Jamie Reynolds won’t even remember me. “And I don’t know that heisthe love of my life.But it’s not really about Jamie. Or notjustabout Jamie, anyway. He was just the catalyst, I suppose. It’s more about… about missed opportunities, I guess. Regrets. All the things I could have done differently, and how my life might have turned out if I had.”
I look down at the diary in my hand.
I feel like my whole life will hinge on this decision.
It didn’t, obviously.No one’slife depends on whether they take Music or Economics at high school.Surely. But, all the same, I can’t help wondering what might have happened if I’d made a different choice back then. Orchoices, even. All the ‘what ifs’ presented by this diary have been jostling for space in my head ever since I dug it out of that box of memorabilia last night, and I just can’t let them go now that they’ve presented themselves.
What if I could change my life?
And what I told Rita was right: it’s reallynotjust about Jamie Reynolds. It’s aboutallof those ‘what ifs’. About living a life without regrets. About—
“The road not taken,” says Alex from beside me. “TheSliding Doorsmoment.”
“Yes. That’s exactly it,” I reply, amazed that he, of all people, seems to know what I’m getting at here.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he says tetchily. “You’re not the only person in the world who has regrets, you know.”
He manages to say this in a way that suggests I’m a self-centered princess who thinks everything revolves around me. Which is only partly true.
“I’m well aware of that, thanks,” I reply frostily. “What are yours, then? Come on, I’ve told you mine.”
