I shouted, trying to get my shoes on before I got outside. ‘Wait, Simon!’
‘Rachel?’
I whirled around to see Simon accepting a cigarette from a man I didn’t recognize in the smokers’ corner on the side of the street. He looked surprised to see me. And also a little bit like his form tutor had just caught him out behind the bike sheds. Not the impact I was hoping for.
‘Simon,’ I said, staring at him trying to hide his cigarette behind his back. ‘You’re smoking.’
‘Uh, no, I just, well, one.’ He waved the Marlboro Light around as though it was a magic wand. ‘I had a really shit day. Were you inside?’
‘You, you didn’t see?’ I asked, wrapping my arms around myself. It was a little too cold to be outside without a coat. ‘You didn’t see us dancing?’
‘Dancing?’ Simon looked confused. ‘With who?’
‘No one, not with anyone,’ I said, taking a step towards him. ‘Matthew and Emelie. And Paul.’
He took a step backwards. ‘Right. I didn’t know you’d be here.’
I stood and looked at him for a moment. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. This wasn’t why I’d worn my best underwear. This wasn’t why I’d been through the agony of a bikini wax.
‘Simon, can we talk for a minute?’ I asked, taking another step towards him.
‘Can we do it tomorrow?’ he countered. ‘I know we need to talk about stuff, I’ve just had a really shit day and I’ve been so busy and-—’
‘I haven’t seen you in four weeks.’ I lowered my voice as subtly as possible. ‘Can you give me five minutes?’
‘It’s just because, I think we’re leaving, Mark’s friends are at this other place and we’re probably going to go there …’ He trailed off, looking back towards someone named Mark who still wasn’t looking at me. Whoever Mark was.
‘I just need a minute,’ I said, trying to remember my speech. ‘I wanted to talk about the break thing. I’ve had enough.’
‘Oh.’ He dropped the cigarette and stamped it out. ‘’Oh, OK. Let’s just get it over with then.’
Get it over with?
Before I could start on the next part, he walked over, put his arm over my shoulder and led me over to the railings across the street.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t been around.’ He left his hand on my shoulder for a moment before looking at it and pulling it away, jamming it deep into his pocket. ‘I did want to talk but things have been mental. Work’s mad, I’m training up this new assistant and he’s shit and then there was the stag do and, sorry, I’ll shut up. Shoot.’
‘You wanted to talk?’ I asked, wishing I’d put on lip balm before I came outside. From the corner of my eye, I saw Matthew stick his head out of the door, then slide back in once he’d clocked me. ‘I’ve wanted to talk about it too.’
‘Yeah?’ Simon didn’t look happy. ‘I thought having time away would make this easier. Doesn’t though, does it?’
‘Doesn’t what?’ I rubbed my arms briskly. It really was cold and my bra was not adequately padded enough for such temperatures. ‘Look, Si, like I was saying, I’ve wanted to talk since you left. I think the whole break time thing was totally OK and it’s been good to have some space but I’m done with it. The whole break thing.’
‘OK. Good. OK.’ He fumbled around in a pocket for his cigarettes. ‘Is there someone else?’
‘Is there what?’ I pushed my hair back again and tried to ignore Matthew standing across the street, motioning for me to pull it forward. ‘Why would there be …? Look, Simon, I’m over this whole break thing. I just want things back to normal.’
Simon lit another cigarette and looked at the floor. ‘Sorry Rach, I’ve had a couple of drinks, I’m not following. What are you saying?’
‘I don’t want to be on a break.’ I reached over and took the packet of cigarettes out of his hand. ‘Will you look at me, please?’
He inhaled deeply and blew out a long stream of grey smoke, shaking his head. I stepped closer until we were toe to toe and placed my empty hand on his arm, pulling the cigarette away from his mouth.
‘Simon, you don’t smoke.’
‘I smoked before we started going out,’ he said quietly.
‘We’ve been going out for five years,’ I replied in a voice just as hushed but, regardless of volume control, I could see a small audience with ears pricked across the street.
Suddenly our private conversation felt very public.
‘Five years is a long time.’ Simon pulled his arm away from me, stepped back and took another drag. ‘And I don’t want to be on a break either. So we’re agreed that the break isn’t working.’
‘Simon, I’m really not following,’ I was totally lost. This was really, really not how this was supposed to go. We were supposed to be halfway to doing something indecent in the back of a taxi by now, not rambling in the middle of the street while Matthew pretended not to be watching from the doorway of the club. And, oh brilliant, Em was there as well. At least Paul had stayed downstairs – oh, wait a minute, nope, there he was. Just what I needed.
‘I know I haven’t dealt with the whole break-up very well, but I don’t want to make it any harder than it is already.’ Simon shrugged. ‘It’s not been easy for me either, you know.’
‘What are you talking about?’ I grabbed his arm tight and got as close to his face as was humanly possible given his cigarette breath. This was supposed to be seductive, not confusing and gross. ‘Can we please just go home?’
‘I’m not coming home.’ He shook off my arm and stepped backwards. ‘This isn’t a break, Rachel.’
Simon looked pale and awkward and it didn’t really matter how cold it was any more.
‘I don’t want to be on a break because I want to be with you,’ I said softly, staring steadily at his shoes. ‘It’s just a break. We’re not, you know, we’re not. Not on a break.’
For a few moments, he didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything. Across the street, I could hear people talking, laughing, even some shouting a couple of doors down, but it seemed as if it was miles away. I coughed, just to check I could still make noise.
‘Simon, I love you.’
Nothing.
‘Simon?’
Still nothing.
I pressed my lips together to try and stop the tears that were tickling the corners of my eyes, blurring the bright red postbox into a red slash to the side of me.
‘Simon, please.’ I tried to keep my voice even but I was having enough
