‘Oh, you look stunning!’ Sophie gushes. ‘You’re so brave, Kate. Travelling the world on your own!’
‘I’m going too!’ Charlie pipes up, and that breaks the tension a little as I wipe my eyes and hope it was the waterproof mascara I’d used this morning.
People crowd in and hug me and tell me how big Charlie is getting and how like his father he is, and I smile and nod and thank them for their good wishes and know that Hugh is standing in the other corner, smiling and nodding and talking to our colleagues too . . . aware of me, across the room.
Bit by bit we’re jostled closer to each other as if we’re at one of Jane Austen’s balls, exchanging social niceties with each new dance partner in turn, threading ourselves through the room until we wind up face to face, just as the music swells.
‘Hi,’ I say.
‘Hi,’ he answers.
We’re constrained by a restaurant full of our personal stakeholders, who are trying not to look but at the same time can’t help dragging up a pew and a bucket of popcorn and a pair of opera glasses, because God forbid they miss a single nuance of this interaction.
‘Can I see you outside for a minute, Kate?’ he asks, in the sort of believable tone that should win him an Oscar. I follow him outside as if we are absenting ourselves on state business. As we go, Sophie lures Charlie over with a game on her phone, and then we’re out on the street, alone, in spring sunshine.
Do not ask for your job back, I instruct myself. And do not kiss him. Simple instructions, you’d think, but nothing about this is simple.
‘It’s good to see you,’ he says. ‘Must have been tough leaving the house.’
The tears I’ve been blinking back since I got here respond to his words instantly. The house isn’t the only thing it’s hard to say goodbye to.
Do not cry. Do not even start, because you’ll never stop.
‘How have you been?’ I ask, terrified that I pulled the plug on this too early, before anything was properly tested. In fact, standing here now on the path outside the restaurant, seeing the sun filtering through Hugh’s dark hair, his blue eyes intense, I realise just how wrong I might have been. I’m close to calling the whole trip off in a panic and telling Hugh there’s been a terrible mistake, because I think I might be in love with him . . . know I am.
‘Kate?’
‘What?’
‘What?’
‘Sorry?’ I gasp.
‘I said I think you’ve made the right decision,’ he tells me.
Oh.
‘This trip is exactly what you need.’
No.
NO!
You’re what I need, Hugh!
‘You need to breathe different air.’ He says it like he’s been turning these words over for weeks, basting them, marinating them, simmering them in a pan until they’re cooked through.
‘Stop looking at my mouth, or I’m going to lose my resolve,’ he orders me, and I immediately need further information. Lose his resolve about what?
‘I mean it, Kate. Stop looking at me like that unless you want me to kiss you.’
Trick question, surely . . .
My body aches for his and steps towards him while the last shreds of sense in my mind dig in their heels and pull with all their might backwards on the rope. I keep slipping despite their efforts.
Hugh puts his hands on my arms and physically resists me. ‘The one thing I’ve thought most about since the weekend in New Brighton is whether or not I can betray Cam’s confidence now he’s gone,’ he says.
I feel myself pushing less on Hugh’s arms at the mere mention of this. He drops his hands back to his sides; I’m no longer a threat. The secret is enough of a barrier to stop me throwing myself at him. Again. Perhaps it always will be.
And that’s when I realise Hugh is in an impossible place. He’s trapped by his own integrity, and I’m the only one who can rescue him. But doing so will leave me in the dark forever, and will leave this immovable obstacle in our path.
‘Don’t tell me,’ I say quickly, while knots of not knowing twist tighter inside me. ‘It’s obviously important. I can’t allow you to let yourself down. Or Cam.’
He exhales and puts his hands on his hips, looking skyward a minute. I know exactly why. This decision spells the end of us. A true stalemate where neither will surrender, and nothing will be won.
It feels like there really isn’t any hope. We’ll pretend it’s okay and might agree to try this again when I get back from the Eat, Pray, Love thing. Maybe we’ll even give it another shot for a while. But this will always sit between us, and relationships can’t work like that. It will eat me up and then it will devour the two of us and turn on Charlie. I can’t let him lose Hugh, too. If I can’t move past this, we can’t do it at all.
He pulls me into a hug and kisses the top of my head. ‘Goodbye, Kate,’ I imagine him saying into my ear, although he doesn’t need to speak.
How I get through the rest of the farewell is a mystery science itself couldn’t solve. How Hugh gets through a few brief, appropriate words about me when someone taps a knife on the side of a wineglass is anyone’s guess. He keeps it short and professional.
‘Kate, your resilience under fire has knocked our socks off. For four years, the university has benefited from your creativity, and your colleagues from your friendship. We wish you both all the very best for the adventure that lies ahead.’
I manage to stand up beside him and respond. It’s nothing short of a miracle.
‘Thank you,’ I begin, my voice cracking. ‘You’ve all been nothing but supportive since Day One. Ground zero, really. I hope none of you ever has to go through something as hard as what Charlie and I have faced, but if you do, I hope you’re surrounded by good people. I’m grateful to every one of you.’
Especially you is implied, as I look at my former boss, and find it’s him with the tears in his eyes now. He kisses me formally on the cheek and hands me a gift.
‘Open it, Mummy!’ Charlie says, jumping off Sophie’s lap and running over. Everyone laughs.
I fumble with the ribbon and then nudge the lid off the little box. Inside is a silver pendant, made of a gemstone that glistens green and blue and gold in different lights. There’s a little card in the box from the jeweller. It says Northern Lights.
‘It’s labradorite,’ Hugh says, more knowledgeable about gemstones than I would have expected. ‘Legend has it a fragment of the aurora fell from the sky into the stone. Thought it might keep you focused.’
I think of the stars stuck on Norway on the poster I kept on my wall for all those years.
Hugh smiles. ‘Top of your bucket list, right? You can’t work with someone for four years and not notice her screensaver. One of us had to have attention to detail.’
I laugh and wonder how many other details he’s logged – and how much I’ve missed. But everyone’s flocking around me now, hugging me, shaking Charlie’s hand in a grown-up fashion that delights him, wishing us well for our big adventure. Hugh steps to the back of the room and busies himself in a conversation with the restaurant’s chef.
‘Mummy started a blog!’ Charlie announces loudly. ‘For our holiday!’