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Unrequited Alice Page 7
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I didn’t even know Toby’s last name. I searched on Facebook, looking for Tobys in New York for a whole evening. I was on about my fiftieth Toby when there was a knock at my door.
I hadn’t known Penny that long, but she was turning out to be one of the bestest friends I’d ever had. I could talk to her about almost anything and she wouldn’t get freaked out. We’d talked about poo and periods in graphic detail. Even Hannah and I had never done that.
I’d never told Penny about my feelings for Ed, but I knew she always suspected.
She brought in two cups of tea and sat on my bed, and I showed her my photos, and she asked more about Toby, and I showed her my pathetic Facebook search results.
“Okay, first of all, I’m glad if this helped you forget about Ed.”
I didn’t look at her. “What?”
“You don’t have to admit it, it’s fine.”
I just nodded.
“But seriously, you knew this guy for four days, he was hot and cold and a bit detached at times, and admitted he’s in love with another woman. So, don’t you think you ought to forget him now? Move on? This Facebook search seems like an epic waste of your time. Life is too short.”
“You’re right,” I sighed and closed my laptop lid. “I guess I just figured if I could get to know him better, I might bring him out. Make him move on from this girl, you know?”
“He might be with this girl right now, giving it another go.”
“I guess.”
“And he lives in New York, may I remind you.”
“I know, I know.”
“So are you looking forward to the wedding, despite everything?”
“Yes.”
Actually, I really was. Now that Ed wasn’t in my head quite so much, confetti and dresses and music were firmly planted. I’d see a few old friends at the evening reception that I’d not seen in years. I’d mingle with Hannah’s parents and brother, all of whom I’d known and loved for ages, and I’d drink champagne and wish them well.
Sure, I’d always have a soft spot for Ed, but really, it was fine. Fine and dandy.
After Penny left, I closed down the internet and decided it was time to stop thinking about men altogether. No Toby, and definitely no Ed. What was it Toby had said again? You can control your thoughts. You can choose to be happy with the right attitude. I wasn’t sure he practiced what he preached, and I wasn’t sure it wasn’t all a load of bollocks, but I was going to give it a try.
I managed to get through the rest of the evening and the next few days without thinking about either man for more than a few seconds at a time. I distracted myself as soon as they popped into my head which, admittedly, was often. But it felt like progress, and a strange sense of calm washed over me. Maybe I could control my feelings after all.
That was, until I went to Hannah’s house to help write out the place cards. Ed opened the door and gave me a warm hug, and I breathed in his intoxicating aftershave. He was all smiles and handsome face and broad shoulders and making jokes about Niagara Falls and telling me all about his stag weekend in Barcelona.
And though I smiled and put in all the required effort, all I kept thinking was that I loved him, and I wanted him, and I didn’t want to watch him marry my oldest friend.
So, I sat there, writing out the sodding place cards, eating Hannah’s pasta dish, listening to Ed chatting away, laughing with them both, and I tried. I tried to control my feelings, I tried to only focus on what they were saying. But it was hard. Really, really hard.
I went home, had a little cry and went to bed. But I couldn’t sleep so I pulled out my laptop and starting googling images of New York. It’d been so long since I visited my family there. We talked now and then, but I knew they were keen for me to come stay. Too bad I’d spent all my savings on the Niagara trip.
I kept scrolling through the images. I could see Toby living there, walking the busy Manhattan streets, looking out at the view across to Liberty Island like he’d gazed out so often at the falls.
I thought about the time he almost kissed me, after the boat. And then I thought about the time he did kiss me outside our hotel rooms. And then I thought about going to sleep beside him, and waking up with my head on his chest.
Somehow, thinking about Toby was the only thing that stopped me brooding over Ed. So I pictured him. I pictured us together, not romantically particularly, just talking and laughing, walking around and holding hands.
I sighed, and was about to close my laptop and go to sleep. Then a Facebook notification popped up. I had a message from him.
Hi Alice,
I’m hoping this is you as I’ve just looked through what felt like a hundred Alices in Camden and you’re the only one with a Niagara Falls image as your profile pic. Great photo. I remember you taking that.
I’m sorry I said we shouldn’t keep in touch. What a jerk I am. I think about you all the time and it must be getting close to Hannah’s wedding and I just keep wondering how you’re doing. I know it’ll be a sad day, but try to keep smiling.
I’m actually going to be in the UK that week. I’m going to visit my family. If you need a date for the wedding, I’ll happily come and hold your hand.
No problem if that would be weird. I just want you to know, I understand how you feel and I’ll support you, if you need a friend. Or just listen to you, if you want to chat. Are you on Skype?
If this is all too much, too late, then ignore me.
Take care,
Toby.
I read the message about five times before replying. He kept thinking about me? I replied to say thanks, and gave him my Skype username, asking him to call now, if he liked.
My Skype started ringing exactly one minute later. A video call. I smoothed my hair and gave myself a quick glance in the mirror to check my face wasn’t still shiny from my make-up remover. I looked semi-decent. No worse than the hung-over look he’d witnessed several times in Niagara.
His face popped up on the screen. He had shaved off his stubble, revealing smooth skin. His eyes looked a little tired, and his hair was sexily scruffy. He had a blue t-shirt on, and I could see a white wall in the background.
“Hello, Alice.”
“Hi, Toby.”
Silence.
“How are you?” he asked, scratching his chin.
I shrugged.
“I saw them tonight.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I tried to do what you said, control my feelings.”
“And how did that go?
“I tried, but it’s so hard.”
“I know. I never said it was easy.”
“But when I’m not with him, I don’t think about him so much as I used to.”
I’d almost forgotten how nice his grey eyes were.
“Good.”
“I think about you a lot though.”
He smiled and I smiled back, relaxing back against my pillows.
“I’ve thought about you a lot, too. Wish I could be with you right now.”
“Me too.”
“This sucks, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“We’ll be okay.”
“Thank you. I guess so. So you want to finally tell me about your girl?”
He rolled his eyes.
“She’s not my girl. She’s my brother’s fiancé.”
“Oh crap.”
So he really did know how I felt.
“I met her first, at uni.” His eyes looked down, away from the screen as he talked. “We dated for about six months, but she said she needed some space. I was crazy about her. Then she got together with Brian.”
“That’s harsh.”
“He asked me if it was alright, but what could I say? And he’d never been serious about a girl before, I didn’t think it’d last.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Over six years ago. I moved to New York when they moved in together, I didn’t want to see them regularly.”
“Wow, that’s a long time to
still having feelings for someone.”
He shrugged. “She’s the one that stuck, I guess. And it’s not as if I could avoid them entirely, they’ve obviously kept in touch so I get regular reminders.”
“And now they’re engaged?”
“Getting married in a few months, in Florida. I got the invite a few days before I met you.”
So that was why he was so quiet to start with.
“That’s shit.”
He sighed. “I know.”
“You kissed me,” I said, and his eyes flashed back to the screen. “And you nearly did it again, a few times, and you always stopped yourself.”
I didn’t know why I said that. I guess I was feeling open.
He laughed. “Yes, I nearly did.”
“But you didn’t. Why?”
“I just … it didn’t feel right. I really liked you but you were going home, I’d be going home…”
“You didn’t want to get hurt again?”
“Yes.” He shrugged. “I don’t really let people get too close.”
I nodded.
“But you looked me up anyway.”
“I just thought. Well, if you need a friend.”
“I could use a friend, yes.”
“It seems we’d make good friends, having this crappy unrequited love thing in common.”
I laughed.
“Friends it is then.”
“And if you want to hang out, I’ll be in the UK for a long weekend over my mum’s birthday. We could get dinner or something.”
“And you wanna be my date for the wedding?”
‘It was just a suggestion, I thought it might help you get through the big day.”
“You sure you’d like to come?”
“I would love to.”
“Great.”
“Now, listen to me. All that matters is here and now. You’re alive, you’re breathing, you’re going to go about your days, live in the present moment and focus on what’s in front of you, right now. Push him from your mind. Control your thoughts.”
“That works?”
He shrugged. “Most of the time. I’ve read a lot about mindfulness; it’s life-changing stuff.”
“What made you read about it?”
“It just seemed a good way to get my shit together. Stop obsessing over things I can’t control.”
I highly doubted I could really control my thoughts when it came to Ed, especially when he was right in front of me; isn’t that what I’d been trying to do for years? I suppose I had allowed some silly fantasies to drift in and out. And I had spent a lot of time contemplating how he was in love with Hannah. How I wished I’d met him first. Jeez, I was doing it again. What was Toby saying?
“So let’s talk again soon, yes?”
“Yes, and thank you.”
So, it was set. Toby and I would be friends. And, we would see each other fairly soon. And I would have someone to be by my side at the wedding. I didn’t know if any of it was a good idea, but I knew I felt happier than I did before he got in touch.
Hannah was thrilled that I had a date when I called her the next day, and especially that it was Toby. She didn’t even mind altering her seating plan so that he could sit next to me.
I was relieved. I could get through the wedding so much easier, with him by my side. Couldn’t I?
Chapter Seven
The Monday after I’d been to Hannah and Ed’s, I felt uplifted. Somehow, even via a video call, Toby had the ability to make me forget; to entertain the possibility that there might be someone else out there for me other than Ed, even if Toby wasn’t quite it. Surely there were other men, like him, but in London? And with him as my friend, I felt stronger and more together than I had done in a long while.
“Aren’t you grateful for the internet?” Penny said over breakfast, biting into a buttery crumpet. I was on the porridge. I needed to lose a few pounds after copious eating and drinking in Canada.
“Thank goodness for Facebook and Skype for connecting me to Toby again,” I said, grinning. “Maybe I should send Mark Zuckerberg a card, or something. Thank him for making the world a more connected place.”
“You totally need to screw Toby at the wedding,” Miranda said, slopping her cereal as always. “I can’t believe you haven’t yet.”
“We’re just friends,” I told them for the third time that morning.
“I’m your friend, and you didn’t invite me as a date to the wedding,” Miranda pointed out.
“Nor me,” Penny said, winking.
“Well, neither of you offered to come. Toby did.”
After our Skype call, we had sent a few messages, just sharing photos of our trip, talking about his fear of cats some more. He sent a pic of his goldfish. I sent a selfie of me with Penny and Miranda.
“Maybe when he sees you, he’ll think about moving back to the UK,” Penny said, gazing wistfully at the ceiling. “And you’ll live happily ever after.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” I said, shaking my head, “he really loves his job.”
“He can get a job here,” Miranda told me. “He’ll love you more than any job.”
“He’s in love with his brother’s fiancé,” I told them. “So it’ll only ever be friends.”
Miranda’s jaw dropped, revealing more disgusting milky cereal crumbs than I ever wanted to see. Penny held her crumpet mid-air and stared at me.
“So you’ve got quite a bit in common, then?” she said. I felt my face flush.
“Yes,” I said, giving her a warning look. Miranda didn’t need to know about Ed, and I had no plans to discuss it out loud anyway, even with Penny.
“Well, friendship is a great foundation for your future relationship,” Miranda said, “for when he gets over the future sister-in-law.”
I shrugged and got up to clear away my porridge bowl. “We’ll see,” I told them.
They speculated some more while I washed up the dishes. There was no point debating it; Toby was coming for a short visit, that was all. He’d go back to New York. Sure, we might speak to each other now and then, but as friends. And I was fine with that. It’d been a while since I felt that close to Hannah, and Penny was great, but Toby and I were on the same wavelength. I didn’t need a man; I did need a best friend. And he fit the job description perfectly.
I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend right now. I just really needed a friend who could help me through this wedding and I was pretty sure Toby would do that. He’d helped me through the hen, after all.
I went to work with a little more of a genuine smile than I had done for a while, maybe since Hannah had announced her engagement a year ago. I could do this, I could wish them well and move on with my life. Every time Ed and Hannah’s wedding popped into my head, I remembered what Toby had said about living in the present moment, and concentrated on what I was doing.
It was a quiet day in the shop, but that wasn’t unusual for a Monday. I busied myself tidying shelves, doing paperwork, and making orders. I put together a job ad for a weekend position; Angela, my assistant manager, usually covered weekends but she was going on maternity leave soon, and I didn’t want to work seven days a week.
I loved being in the shop; we had cream walls and olive green bookshelves. We had a kids’ corner with colourful bean bags and little yellow tables. We had a few seats for adults scattered around too, old leather armchairs where you could sit and flick through the book you were considering buying.
The main counter always had a big bunch of flowers on it, and out back, there was a little office where I’d do the accounts, orders, and other admin. It was like a second home to me, I was so comfortable there. When I thought about it, I had it pretty good.
It was lunchtime and I was sitting behind the counter, about to dive into a very boring salad – I was really concerned about fitting into my bridesmaid’s dress – when a text came through from Toby.
Toby: Happy Monday! How’re you today?
Me: I’m good. Very good. You?
&nb
sp; Toby: Not bad. Tired. Just getting ready for work.
Me: Have a great day x
Toby: You too x
So, he’d thought of me when he woke up. When he woke up several thousand miles away, I reminded myself. I shook my head and tucked into my salad.
The bell rang to signal that someone had entered the shop. I looked up, and saw it was Yvonne, the shop owner.
Yvonne inherited ownership of Willow Tree Books when her father died in 1998. She’d run it herself for a while, and I’d helped her out as a student. It was the only place I’d ever worked, apart from part-time in Sainsbury’s when I was in high school.
We got on well, had become friends, and way back, before I was manager, she told me that one day she feared she’d have to sell the shop; independent book shops didn’t do well these days and the bigger chains would end up taking over. I remember I said she was just like Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail, and we’d laughed.
As I looked at her face today, I could tell she had bad news. I sensed we had a Meg Ryan moment coming, and I was ill prepared for it.
So I started gabbling away, telling her about Niagara Falls, although I’d already told her when she popped in the week after I got back. She just smiled and nodded at me, looking pale and nervous.
“So,” I finally said, “aren’t you at work today?”
Yvonne’s a solicitor. She was never much into books. This had become my baby, not hers.
“I’ve had an offer,” was all she said. “For the shop.”
I nodded. “And?”
“I think it’s time, Alice. I’m so sorry. We will close on 20th August.”
A week after Hannah and Ed’s wedding. Great.
We had a long chat, then. She’d give me severance. She’d give me a great reference. She felt really bad. I had a little cry.
“I really am sorry, Alice,” she said over and over, offering tissues and a big hug.
When she left, I just sat there for ages, staring at the shelves I had dusted thousands of times, at the books I’d ordered and talked to customers about. I tried to imagine the shop empty, but couldn’t. What was I going to do?