‘Was it… because of trying for kids that you split up?’ I ask, before immediately adding, ‘Sorry, I know that that’s none of my business.’
Flavia shakes her head, like she’s just weary. ‘Yes, basically.’
‘So… if he’d wanted to try for kids you’d still be together.’
She nods.
God.
Wow.Wow. I was almost thinking that I should tell her I love her and try to be a better person, be worthy of her, be a good partner for the first time ever. But now… Yeah. Obviously I am not going to attempt to come between her and her husband.
I take a moment to wonder who she would choose out of me and Jed, if she didn’t have all the history with him. Can it be possible that she has this level of connection with him? Surely not. How could you have that with more than one person?
She does have all the history with him, though. Their divorce isn’t even fully through yet. Apparently it takes quite a long time in Australia.
And clearly he’s better at relationships than I am, so he must be better for her than I would be anyway.
God.
I suddenly remember something and ask, ‘When you used the wordjedalikeon the flight out did you mean that I was like Jed?’
‘Yep. On first sight. Not really, though.’ She shakes her head. ‘It was a nothing.’
‘Okay. Yep.’ I don’t know why I asked. Probably because I feel completely stunned, like I’ve been punched and winded: the pain I’m feeling right now is almost physical.
I’ve never loved anyone unattainable before.
I’ve never loved anyone full stop. Except Flavia. Maybe I’ve always loved Flavia.
‘Good luck with your decision,’ I say, to round the conversation off, because, well, I can’t really think what else there is to say.
Flavia raises one eyebrow and says, ‘Thanks,’ like she’s trying to kill me with the word. And then she turns so that she’s angled towards the window and her back is towards me and switches her Kindle back on.
I don’t want us to be on bad terms. I want her to be happy. Bad terms don’t make anyone happy.
So I clear my throat, and say, ‘Thank you for being my companion on an amazing trip.’
I realise immediately the words are out of my mouth that I couldn’t have said anything more trite and that it could also definitely be interpreted as unpleasantly sarky. Or just… weird, following the conversation we just had. I think about apologising, and then I decide that not talking is probably my best option.
Flavia turns slowly to look at me, and, with her face entirely devoid of expression, says, ‘Likewise,’ before resuming her back-to-me position.
And then, a few seconds later, she turns back round, and says, ‘Youwerea great companion. Thank you.’ She gives me a small smile, and then looks back down at her Kindle.
I think her eyes are moist.
I think mine might be too.
* * *
It’s a long night. I thought I’d be tired and sleep reasonably well – Iamtired – but unfortunately it turns out that deep sadness keeps me awake.
After a bit of – definitely fake – Kindle reading, Flavia closes her eyes, as though she’s asleep. I’m pretty sure she isn’t, though. During this trip I’ve got to know how Flavia is when she sleeps, and it’s not like this.
We spend the night mostly both awake next to each other but not at all together.
I do eventually doze briefly, but am awake again by the time the air stewards wake people up for breakfast.
Flavia is sound asleep, surrounded by her bottle of water, Kindleandbook, hair scrunchie, mints, lip balm and a half-empty tube of salt and vinegar Pringles. I can’t believe how much I love her chaos now.
