The Undomestic Goddess
Page 134And then everything seems to freeze. Am I dreaming?
It’s Nathaniel. On the London train. He’s three yards away, sitting in a window seat, staring ahead rigidly.
What—Why is he—
“Nathaniel!” I try to shout, but my voice has turned into a croak. “Nathaniel!” I wave my arms frantically, trying to get his attention.
“Jesus, it’s him!” exclaims Dominic, who has followed me onto the platform. “Nathaniel!” he yells, his voice like a foghorn. “Over here, mate!”
“Nathaniel!” At last my voice is working. “Na-than-iel!”
At my desperate scream he finally looks up. For a moment his expression is sheer disbelief. Then his whole face seems to expand in a slow explosion of delight.
I can hear train doors slamming. It’s about to leave.
“Come on!” I yell, beckoning urgently.
I can’t move, or even breathe. All I can do is stare at the departing train, moving past carriage by carriage, speeding up, faster and faster … until finally it’s gone.
And Nathaniel is standing on the platform. He’s there.
Without moving my eyes from his I begin to walk along the platform, speeding up as I reach the footbridge. On the opposite side he does the same. We reach the top of the steps, walk forward a way, and both come to a halt, a few feet apart. I feel shell-shocked and exhilarated and uncertain all at the same time.
“I thought you were going down to Cornwall,” I say at last. “To buy your nursery.”
“I changed my mind.” Nathaniel looks pretty shell-shocked himself. “Thought I might … visit a friend in London instead.” He glances at my suitcase. “Where were you going?”
I clear my throat. “I was thinking … Cornwall.”
“Cornwall?” He stares at me.
“Uh-huh.” I show him my timetable, suddenly wanting to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.
“Dunno. Gone. And they’re not my friends. I hit Guy,” I add proudly.
Nathaniel throws back his head and laughs. “So they fired you.”
“I fired them,” I correct him.
“You did?” says Nathaniel in amazement. He reaches out for my hand but I don’t take it. Underneath my joy I’m still feeling unsettled. The hurt of this morning hasn’t gone. I can’t pretend everything’s OK.
“I got your note.” I lift my eyes to his and Nathaniel flinches.
“Samantha … I wrote you a different one on the train. In case you wouldn’t see me in London.”
He fishes awkwardly in his pocket and pulls out a letter several sheets long, both sides of the paper covered in writing. I hold it for a few moments without reading it.
“What—what does it say?” I raise my eyes.
I turn the pages slowly over in my fingers. Here and there I glimpse words that make my eyes fill instantly.
“So,” I manage.
“So.” Nathaniel’s arms come round my waist; his warm mouth is on mine. As he holds me tight I can feel the tears spilling onto my cheeks. This is where I belong. This is where I fit. I finally draw away and look up at him, wiping my eyes.
“Where now?” He looks down over the bridge and I follow his gaze. The railway track extends in both directions, far into the distance. “Which way?”
I look along the endless line, squinting in the sunshine. I’m twenty-nine years old. I can go anywhere. Do anything. Be anyone I like.
“There’s no rush,” I say at last, and reach up to kiss him again.