The Ten Year First Date

The Aftermath

I found Jeannie just around the corner from the solicitors. Even though she was wearing at least five-inch heels, she could still run like a sprinter who was late for the Olympics. It was probably the years of practice running away from overexcited students in the City Centre. When I caught up with her, I accidentally grabbed her arm and spun her around.

'Get off!' she yelled, pulling herself away. 'I've said what I want to say.'

'Exactly.' I answered, slightly breathless. 'What the Hell are you playing at?'

'You heard.' She said, no hint of a smirk, just a frown. 'You have my terms, now deal with them.'

'Jeannie, I never fell out of love with you.' I said, running a hand through my hair. 'I don't understand how you couldn't feel the same.' Jeannie looked down at the pavement. She shuffled her bag onto her shoulder before looking back up at me.

'Look, I didn't want it to be like this. And besides, from what I've heard, you aren't exactly lonely.'

'If you are talking about Cassie, then she's a friend. A good friend.' I knew that I was lying through my teeth about Cassie only being a friend, but Jeannie was my wife, and that mattered.

'Well, friend or not...' Jeannie began, biting her lip. 'This is the only way I can think of salvaging what we had.'

'Jean, you aren't making sense.' I said, shaking my head. 'First, you say you want a divorce, then you set about trying to ruin me and now, you want to give me another chance. What is going on with you?'

'Look!' Jeannie snapped, raising her hand. 'Like I said, you have my terms. Take them or leave them, it's your choice. You know what my number is. You've got until tomorrow to decide.' As she began to walk away, I could see a glimmer of something familiar in her eye. It wasn't sarcasm, hurtfulness or even the traces of the witch that has replaced her usual demeanour. It was the old Jeannie. The Jeannie I met twelve years ago was back once again, just for a fraction of a second. And then she was gone, blonde hair flying behind her in her wake.

I was left standing on the corner of Piccadilly wondering what my next move was going to be. Instinctively, I reached for my phone in my pocket and dialled the first number that came into my head.

'Come on...' I said to myself quietly, as I waited for a voice to answer.

'Wagstaff Estates.' Ollie's voice drifted wearily through the receiver.

'Ollie, thank God.' I said, relieved. 'Can you get out of work?'

'Well, I am due a lunch hour soon, why?' he answered, sounding confused.

'Round up the troops and meet me at Cafe Nero in an hour.' I ordered. 'The one on the corner of Piccadilly.'

'Mate what's wrong?' Ollie asked, now sounding more concerned than confused.

'I'll tell you when you get here. Please, Ols.'

'Ok, ok. Just get there, and we will be there in an hour I promise.'

'Thanks bro, seriously.' I said, feeling as though I was actually going to be the first grown-up man to bawl his eyes out in the middle of Piccadilly Circus. 'See you in an hour.' The grateful tone of my voice was unmistakable, as my phone was slipped quietly back into my pocket.

With an hour to kill, I decided to walk slowly and aimlessly around the small part of the city that I found myself in. At that point, with all the Christmas decorations around the skyline and in each every window, I wondered why my parents ever wanted to move away from this beautiful city. They said it was because they wanted a warmer climate in their old age, and somewhere for their grandchildren to have unforgettable holidays, but I would live in sub-zero temperatures and rip up my passport if it meant that I could stay here for the rest of my life. I passed the stores, all decorated with reds, silvers and greens. I smiled as I saw a family with children the ages of Josh and Ella, running around squealing. I could only assume that school had broken up earlier than I thought. I giggled lightly, as they rushed past me, quickly followed by their overly apologetic father.