Love Your Life(105)

I have to thank Maud especially, because my flat looks amazing. So tidy! She’s upcycled the shelving unit and the kitchen chairs and the dresser, which is now blue with wallpaper inside the cupboards. It’s gorgeous. It’s all gorgeous. It was definitely worth waiting for.

The trees on either side of Nell’s street are covered with blossom, lit up by streetlamps, and the sight of it makes me smile wryly in spite of myself. There we are. The spring. Can’t stop it.

It’s only when I’m on the forecourt of her building that I suddenly feel nervous. No, not nervous, but…Should I text her at least, rather than just arriving on the doorstep?

I find myself a discreet place to perch, on a low bollard between two parked cars, dump my flowers on the ground, and get out my phone. But I can’t think what to text that won’t sound totally cheesy. Also: Should I tell the others I’m back too? In fact, should I have thought this through a bit more?

    I’m just about to summon up WhatsApp when the sight of an approaching car draws my attention. It’s a navy-blue Fiat that I recognize, because it belongs to Nell’s neighbor, John Sweetman. And he’s parking in the disabled spot. Again. As I see his calm, bespectacled face through the windscreen, reversing as though nothing’s wrong, I feel a surge of rage at him. Still? I mean, really, still?

You go away for six transformative months and you return, all full of positive energy…and then this. Some things never change. Wearily, I thrust my phone back in my pocket, and I’m about to get up to challenge him, when a voice breaks the silence: “Hey!”

It’s a deep, furious male voice. A voice I…recognize?

I must be dreaming. I must be hallucinating. But…I’m not. A moment later, he comes into view, striding toward John Sweetman like an angry bull, and I can’t help gasping.

Matt?

“Move your fucking car,” he says, and bangs on John Sweetman’s car window. “Don’t you think about parking there. Don’t you even think about it. My friend needs that space. Move.”

I don’t hear what John Sweetman says in reply, if anything. I’m not sure I’m functioning. My hand has moved to my mouth and I can’t breathe. I mean…Matt?

“Move!” Matt sounds like he’s about to explode. He’s quite a menacing sight, tall and stacked and eyebrow lowered. He looks as though he’s about to demolish an opponent in the fight ring. If I were John Sweetman, I’d be terrified.

Sure enough, a moment later, John Sweetman’s engine starts up. Matt steps back, out of the way, waiting for him to move. Then he turns and beckons, and another car approaches. Nell’s car. What…what is happening?

    Nell’s car maneuvers into the disabled space, and a moment later the door opens and Topher gets out, then leans back in.

“OK, careful…carefully…” I can hear him saying.

An arm goes around his shoulders and Matt comes to help him, so for a moment my view is blocked by the two men’s backs, but then Topher stands up straight, and he’s holding Nell in his arms.

Nell?

I feel a chill as I glimpse her face. She’s so pale. What’s happened? But she smiles at Topher and he adjusts his arm around her, as though he’s done this a thousand times. Meanwhile, Matt has retrieved an overnight bag from the boot and banged it shut again. And I should say something, I should move, I should announce my presence to them…but I can’t. I’m transfixed, and my eyes are somehow wet. In fact, they’re so wet that my vision’s blurry.

John Sweetman has meanwhile parked his car elsewhere and is walking toward the building with slow, reluctant steps. Matt swings round toward him.

“Apologize to my friend,” he says shortly, and John Sweetman visibly gulps. He takes in the sight of Nell in Topher’s arms, Matt holding her bag and cane, and his defensive demeanor starts to slip.

“I had no idea,” he begins. “I had no idea the young lady…I didn’t realize. I’m…sorry.”

    “You should be,” says Topher, his dark eyes tiny with contempt. “Excuse us, please.”

Matt has already opened the front door with a key—he has a key?—and he holds it open for Topher and Nell. A moment later, they’ve all disappeared.

I breathe out and wipe my eyes. This bollard I’m on is very hard and my legs have started to ache and I should stand up. But I can’t while my thoughts are whirling.

Then I hear another sound, which makes me blink in fresh astonishment.

“We’re here!” It’s Maud’s distinctive, top-volume voice. “Yup, got it all. Yes, Nihal found the elderflower cordial. So clever. See you in a sec!”

As I watch, bewildered, she sashays into sight, talking animatedly to Nihal, who’s walking in step with her. Both are holding bulging shopping bags and they look like old friends.

“I know you all believe in it. And I do absolutely respect your beliefs, Nihal. But I just think it makes no sense,” Maud is saying to him. “How can something change if you measure it? And what does quantum mean, anyway?”

“I’ll try to explain,” says Nihal in his mild way. “Do you know what an electron is, Maud?”

“No,” says Maud emphatically. “Does that matter?”

As she’s speaking, she lets them both into the building and they disappear. I exhale slowly, my thoughts even more mixed up than before. It’s impossible. It’s unreal. What’s going on?