Many Miles Apart

39. Zoe

"Are you sure this is the right choice?", Jim asked, staring at the queues of traffic ahead. We were sat in his car on the motorway, travelling back to Brighton, not moving even slightly, the lines of vehicles stretching ahead as far as I could see. I guess that was to be expected on a Saturday afternoon. Sheets of cold drizzly rain were hitting against the windscreen as we waited for some sign of movement.
"Even if it's not it's a bit late now", I replied, gazing out the window at the rolling fields that stretched around me. I was trying to seem calm, but I could tell that Jim knew how I really felt. It was written all over my face.
"It's ok to be scared-"
"Can we change the subject please?", I snapped, turning to face him. He didn't look away from the road, but I could see the hurt in his expression. "Sorry", I added, turning back to the window. I felt sick with worry and anxiety at what I had agreed to. Terror ran rampant through me, and all I wanted was to jump out of the car and run back to the comfort of Jim's sofa and Tanya's cooking. But I knew that wasn't an option. I had to do this. I had to see him.
We still hadn't moved, and there were cars everywhere, horns beeping as angry drivers tried to find a way through the jam.
"So how's Nala?", Jim asked awkwardly.
"If that was an attempt at a conversation starter then you fail", I smiled weakly, trying to fight the rising urge to vomit from the nerves.
"Well at least I tried", he laughed back.
A horn blared, causing him to jump. "Urgh these stupid cars", he moaned, waving his arms in frustration. "At this rate we won't even be back before his plane lands"
"Funny", I said sarcastically, hitting him on the arm gently.
The line in front of us slowly began to move, and Jim pressed on the accelerator and moved his car forwards.
"Here we go", he muttered under his breath as the queue began to speed up, but as quickly as it has started the car in front of us grinded to a halt. "Spoke too soon", he moaned, pressing on the brakes.
I looked around us, searching for a way out of this mess, but all I could see were frustrated people clutching at their steering wheels, waiting for the traffic to move.
Then something caught my eye.
"Ooh look over there!", I cried, waving my arms around frantically.
"What?", Jim asked, peering out of the window.
"Look it's a turn off!", I said. I didn't like small spaces, and trapped in this car in the middle of a traffic jam just added to the list of reasons to panic.
"Good plan", Jim replied, placing his hands on the wheel. "But how do we get there?" He looked frustrated, which made me even more anxious to just get out of here.
"I guess we wait for a bit of movement, then switch lanes and head off that way", I said, trying to sound like I knew what I was talking about.
Soon enough the traffic moved slightly, and, clearly not the only ones noticing the turn off, we followed a small trail of cars heading down the alternate route.
"Finally", Jim breathed, cruising down the road.

We kept going for a while, guessing which directions to turn, hoping to find our way back onto a main road.
"Please tell me you know where we are", Jim said after about an hour, pulling into a lay-by.
I looked around at the seemingly endless stretch of fields, the only thing breaking it up being the small lane that we were driving down.
"Absolutely no idea", I replied, pulling my phone out of my pocket. "And there's no signal." The two words at the top of the screen confirmed it.
"So we're lost?", Jim asked, clearly knowing that it was the case.
I didn't reply, just sunk lower into the seat, the fear of what was to come too much for me to bare.
Jim opened the door and climbed out of the car, but I ignored it, pulling my knees to my chest and let the truth of what I was going to do wash over me. All of this time, I was so desperate to get over Alfie, to never see him again, but now it came to it, I couldn't suppress the tingling happiness that was sat in my heart. But I was scared. Terrified of what would happen. I was still so mad at him for betraying me, so hurt that he would do that, yet at the same time, I was afraid that he wouldn't want to fight for me anymore. I was scared that he didn't want me, and that he'd decidethat he wouldn't bother trying to fix this mess. I had no idea what I'd say to him, but I knew, deep down, however much I didn't want to, that I had to see to him again. We couldn't live out whole lives not speaking, and I knew that I couldn't go my whole life not knowing what he had to say.
I was pulled out of my thoughts by Jim's excited squeal, followed by the sound of a boot closing.
"Got it", he said excitedly, dropping a large, heavy book on my lap. I flipped it over, and read the words British Road Atlas 1986
"I knew we had one somewhere, I hoped I'd put it in the car, Tanya told me to get one"
"From 1986?", I questioned, flicking through the massive book.
"Well I found it in the cupboard in my parents house in Norwich. She'll never know", Jim said with a grin. "Now find where we are, because I'm bored of driving down lanes"
I sighed, pushing the nerves out of my mind as I rifled through the pages of the atlas. It was so big, and it took me a good few minutes to find South England and then Brighton on the map.
"Where was the last signpost pointing to?", I asked, still staring it the page.
"Ahh", Jim replied quietly. "New Chapel I think"
I looked at the map, but I couldn't find any signs of New Chapel, or any towns that I recognised at all.
"Nothing", I said, closing the huge pages. "Clearly nothing existed in 1986"
We sat there in silence for a while, not really sure what to do. I could feel the worry rising in my chest.
Jim looked over at me. I could tell he could sense my panic, and, being Jim, he had an answer.
"Ok. Here's the plan. We drive until we find a village, then we find directions from there, got it?"
I nodded, before strapping my seatbelt back in. We continued on in silence, not an awkward one, but one where you just don't have anything to say. The problem was that it gave me too much time to think.
Images of Alfie with this girl popped into my head, images that had been haunting me for way too long. We weren't together, I was the one that ended it, so why was I so scared of him being with someone else?

After a few more hours of driving and finding towns and trying to get directions, we finally reached Brighton. I felt relieved at being home, yet at the same time the familiar sights filled me with anxiety at what was coming.
Jim pulled up outside our house, and climbed out of the car. I stayed, sat in my seat. I couldn't move. It was the knowledge that part of Alfie was in this house, his life, our life, was inside these walls.
"You coming?", Jim asked, pulling opened my door.
I didn't reply, just slowly climbed out of the seat, and walked to the front door.
The hallway was the same as I'd left it, the same as Alfie had left it before me. There were keys strewn over the cabinet, heaps of shoes by the doorway.
Piles of books lined the stairs, and I could see through to the table where my things were laid out from before I left.
I gulped down the feeling of sickness, and walked into the kitchen, ignoring Jim coming in behind me.
My attention drifted to the closed door to my left. The door that I hadn't opened since Alfie had gone. The door to his office. I didn't want to go in, but there was a strange part of me that wanted to enter, that wanted to see his mess, his room the way that he liked it. Now seemed like as good a time as any.
Slowly, I pushed on the handle, stepping into the room and feeling a rush of heartbreak.
Alfie things were everywhere. Piles of bags and clothes were all over the floor, and the surfaces were cluttered with junk. There were still unopened boxes back from when we'd moved in together, and I could barely see his computer under all of the chaos.
But every item in the room had a memory attached. Every piece of mess pulling at my insides.
The small frame that we couldn't find a photo to fit, but Alfie bought because he liked it, the jumpers on the floor that he had worn whilst editing at his computer, that I had also worn when sorting mine. The chair that he had filmed his gaming videos on, that I had shared with him as he pulled me into his lap, his strong arms around my waist as he whispered 'I love you' in between kisses...
My heart shattered again, but I could move. It was like I was glued to the spot, staring at the things that caused so much pain. How was I going to cope seeing him? How was I going to cope at all?