‘I couldn’t do that, Nelly.’ He lifts his gaze to mine and takes a deep breath. ‘I wanted to bring you here today to apologise for what I said the last time we met and?—’
I don’t give him chance to finish. ‘It was okay, I’m not upset.’
He runs a hand through his hair, and his curls look like they’re quivering with excitement. ‘Nelly, I also brought you here to tell you how I…’
The waiter brings us our coffees, and Henry pauses. I sense he has something on his mind as he looks like he’s willing the waiter to leave.
As the waiter smiles and hurries away, I look at Henry. He takes a deep breath and his phone starts buzzing. With a groan, he looks at it and answers. I watch as he leaves the table to talk in private. My coffee tastes delicious and I make a mental note to bring Eva here. A tall man enters with brown wavy hair and I think of Oliver. My heart lets out a series of aches. Last night I rebuilt the pillow wall and lay in my half. I sobbed in the darkness. ‘Oliver, I wasn’t done with loving you,’ I croaked, running my hand over the pillow wall.
Henry returns to the table. ‘I’m going to have to leave, Nelly. I need to get to London. My nan’s not great and my mum needs me to come home.’ He checks his phone. ‘There’s a train in half an hour.’
An idea illuminates the inside of my mind like Christmas lights switching on. I could drive Henry to London and go see Oliver. I could convince him to give us another go. I recall how my bookshop customer drove to Newcastle when he and his partner broke up. Oliver texted me his address in Chiswick West London, near where Henry lives.
Excitement ripples through me. ‘Henry, I have a better idea.’
* * *
Henry doesn’t think much of Nigella. When I first showed her to him, his first words were, ‘We’re driving in that? Please tell me you’re joking?’
I ignored him and opened Nigella.
We’re on the motorway. Henry is talking about his nan and how he just wants to hold her hand and tell her everything is going to be okay. I am silently praying Nigella is in a good mood and gets us to London so Henry can see his nan, and I can persuade Oliver to give us another go. I can’t believe I am doing this. I have become one of those delusional people I used to moan about who will go to extreme lengths for love.
‘Thanks for this, Nelly,’ he says, putting his bag by his feet. ‘I wanted to tell you something in the coffee shop, but we kept being interrupted.’
‘What is it?’
He takes a deep breath and glances out of the passenger window. ‘I’ve been thinking about you and…’
BUMP. Nigella suddenly lurches to one side. ‘Oh, God,’ I cry out.
‘A tyre has gone,’ shouts Henry, ‘pull over onto the hard shoulder.’
Luckily, we are near the hard shoulder and it’s not far for Nigella to crawl to. We jump out and I groan at the sight of her saggy front tyre. ‘Damn it,’ I snap.
Henry takes out his phone. ‘I’ve never changed a tyre. Are you with a breakdown firm?’
I climb inside the passenger side and pull down the compartment. Once I have found Aunt Polly’s insurance details, I see that she’s part of the AA. While Henry calls his mum, I call the AA.
Dark clouds are scurrying across the sky, and the sun has gone into hiding. It’s cold being on the side of the motorway and it’s not long before I am shivering. To make matters worse I can feel spots of rain.
Henry looks in the boot and finds an old travel blanket plus the black cap I bought Aunt Polly which she didn’t like. He hands them to me. ‘Put the blanket around your shoulders and stick the cap on.’
We stand by Nigella as cars and lorries thunder past.
‘My nan’s better,’ he says, reading a text from his mum. ‘She’s having a cup of tea and flirting with doctor.’
Relief floods through me.
‘Who were you going to see in London?’ he asks. ‘You said something about seeing a friend.’
‘Oh… Oliver. He was my flatmate, but he’s moved back to London.’ I gaze into the distance at the winding stretch of motorway.
‘Was he the bestselling author?’
‘Yes,’ I murmur. Instinctively I take a few steps and turning away from Henry. Nigella having a flat tyre is a sign, I tell myself. I was not meant to go see Oliver. We’re over. A wave of emotion crashes over me.
44
