Dumped, Actually(92)

I say as much to Erica.

‘Yeah. I get it,’ she tells me, regretfully.

‘I have to know I can be confident with myself, before I can be confident alongside someone like you,’ I say, wiping the tears from my eyes.

Erica shakes her head and touches my cheek with a gentle hand. ‘Such a shame. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man like you before.’

‘Likewise.’

Her eyebrows crease.

‘I mean . . . I mean I’ve never met a woman like you!’ I blurt out. ‘I don’t think you’re a man, or anything. You’re quite clearly a woman. I mean, look at you!’ I don’t quite point at Erica’s breasts by way of demonstration, but I’m not far away from it.

And with this ridiculously awkward exchange, the spell is broken, and Oliver Sweet is back to his usual self. Which, for the first time, I don’t think is such a bad thing.

Erica laughs. ‘You are something else, Ollie.’

I smile ruefully. ‘I know. There’s not much I can do about it.’

She takes my hand again and looks deep into my eyes. ‘I’m not going to wait for you, Ollie. I’m not that kind of woman.’

‘Oh, I know that, Erica!’ I reply, with a grin.

‘But when you feel ready, and if I’m still available . . .’

She leaves it hanging there – an unspoken promise.

‘Great. I’ll remember that,’ I tell her.

She lets go of my hand again, for the last time, and fishes out her car keys. ‘And now, I think you and I need to go back to the office and tell everyone that they still have a job.’

I laugh. ‘Sounds like a plan to me.’ I think for a moment. ‘And I have another story to write for “Dumped Actually” after we’ve done that. One about doorways.’

Erica gives me a puzzled look.

That’s okay, though. She’ll understand what I mean . . . once she reads all about it.





AFTERLUDE

‘Hello, Troy,’ I say to the elephant as he sniffs at my T-shirt.

‘His name is not Troy, sir,’ Manish says to me, with a puzzled expression on his face. ‘His name is Sundar.’

I give the conservation officer a small grin. ‘I know, Manish. He just reminds me of . . . another elephant called Troy that I once met.’

Manish looks perplexed by this. ‘Troy is not a good name for an elephant, sir.’

‘No. I know it’s not,’ I reply, looking out over the lush rainforest of Uttar Pradesh in northern India, where this elephant sanctuary is based.

I’ve been in the country for three days now.

It’s been a whirlwind of interesting smells, loud noises and friendly locals. All of which I could spend six years writing about, and never truly capture the sheer cacophonous beauty of it all.

It’s been a month since I kissed Erica Hilton and helped to save Actual Life. A month that has gone by in a flash of productivity and continued personal growth.

You’d be forgiven for thinking that things might have been a bit awkward between Erica and me, given what had happened in that car park, but you’d be wrong – thankfully.

Erica and I have more or less slipped back into the relationship we had before that climactic day. She’s the boss, and I do what she says – most of the time, anyway.

But there is something else there, now.

An understanding, if you will. An unspoken agreement between us that there could be something more than just friendship, if things turn out well.

And, in a funny way, that tacit promise has actually brought us closer as friends. Given us a further bond to add to the strong ones that were already there.

Whether our friendship will have a chance to blossom into anything else is not for me to know right now. But it’s not something I intend to dwell on. I’ve done far too much dwelling in my lifetime. The time for dwelling has most definitely ceased.

Mum and Dad drove me to the airport last week. Mum cried a little as I said goodbye to her at the gate, and Dad gave me a big hug. I almost couldn’t bring myself to leave them.

I went to mindfulness class again with Wimsy. It’s something I intend to keep doing for as long as I need to. He’s still in the fledgling stages of his relationship with Lizzy, so I’m more than happy to provide a little moral support, while he works the whole thing out for himself. They look very nice together, though. In fact, they look like they were made for each other.

But they’re taking it very slowly – and who can blame them? They’re two people who have known the pain of a lost love – and finding a new one can be a difficult and slow process. I think they’ll make it, though. I’ve seen the way they look at each other.

It’s the same way I look at Erica these days.

But!

All of that is in the future . . .

One possible future, anyway.

Who knows what will happen?

Not me, certainly.

I’ve given up trying to predict what lies ahead for me.

I’ve also given up trying to understand the past.

What’s done is done, and what will be . . . just will be. It’ll happen, whether I spend time worrying about it or not.

I don’t know if I will end up with Erica – or if I’ll end up with anyone else for that matter.