The One That Got Away (3 page)

Knowing I had at least four hours until I reached London, I pulled out my phone and opened up my instant messaging app. Call it masochistic, or even paranoia, but I wanted to revisit our conversations to see if there was something between the lines. Anything to tell me how it would be appropriate to act when I saw her again.

S. I’m surprised you accepted my friend request.

H. Why wouldn’t I?

S. Well . . .

H. That was a long time ago. Besides, I’m a bit shocked you remember me.

S. That’s just ridiculous. How could I ever forget you? ;)

I’d gone back too far, back to the very beginning, but I didn’t scroll forward. Seeing the two of us reconnecting on the screen in front of me, made me smile. Ignoring the world around me, I carried on reading.

H. Sometimes I wish I’d done the uni thing after school.

S. You would have loved it, and all those guys falling over themselves to buy you a drink at the Union.

H. Ahhh, I bet that was your signature move, back in the day.

S. ‘back in the day?’ You make me sound ancient. I’m not much older than you, remember?

H. I remember, and I also noticed you didn’t answer my question.

S. Not ignoring, merely avoiding, for fear of dredging up embarrassing memories. I wasn’t the silver-tongued lothario you seem to think I was.

H. Somehow, I don’t believe you. Eighteen, away from home, and surrounded by other eighteen year old bundles of hormones. The words ‘revolving doors’ spring to mind.

S. Hardly. Yeah, I played around a little bit. Who wouldn’t?

H. I didn’t.

S. Well, it didn’t last too long. Mel made sure of that.

My smile faltered as I remembered that was the conversation I’d admitted to Heidi about how much regret I’d lived with after breaking things off with her. Following that up with her questions about Mel and my own about Jason. Not wanting to relive that awkwardness, I scrolled down a bit further.

H. Hey yu!

S. Hi. How are you?

H. I’m gooood. Wine feells great.

S. Miss Johnson, are you drunk?

H. Mayyyybeeee. What gav it away?

S. Your abysmal spelling is a big clue.

H. Nuthing wrong with my spells. I passed English.

S. Sure.

H. Hav yu heard bout the runion?

S. What reunion?

H. Sam Walker orgnisin it. Cant member when, but it wud be good if you came.

S. You gonna make me?

H. If you want me too. ;)

S. Want isn’t quite a strong enough term.

H. Shane Hughes, are you flirting with me?

S. Oh, the spelling’s corrected itself suddenly.

H. Shut up! You have a hapy knack of avoiding questions.

S. What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you how much I want you to make me come? Not just to the reunion.

H. Yeah, I do.

That was the first time we moved beyond harmless flirting. I got completely caught up in the moment, but soon felt guilty about living with Mel, yet having virtual sex with my ex-girlfriend. Not guilty enough to stop me doing it again, and getting off on it, though.

Heidi:

Our pre-ordered taxi arrived on time, and we were soon on our way. My nerves started to kick in while we rode across a darkening London. For all my bluster on the phone with Angela and Samantha about showing any exes—read: Shane—what they’d missed out on, the thought of coming face-to-face with him at last made me tremble. I'd been chatting with Shane via instant messaging for almost six months, and thought I'd talked him into coming along. It had been over fifteen years since I'd seen him but we were still friends who got on well. The fact that I had children and he seemed to be in a semi-serious relationship meant that any flirting, which was inevitable, would be harmless and not taken any further.

When we arrived, I insisted on paying the driver to thank Angela for giving me a bed for the night. I hovered outside for a cigarette to settle my churning stomach. Not being a fan of the recent smoking ban which forced me to smoke outside, endurance was key, especially in the winter months. Clutching each other’s hand, Ang and I walked into the noisy pub full of bodies. I looked around, trying to locate familiar faces. 

“Heidi!” A voice yelled out across the pub. Every head in the room turned to look at me as Samantha flew into my arms. “Oh, my God. It’s been way too long. I'm so glad you could make this one.”

It appeared that Samantha Walker could still cram two or three sentences into one breath. How someone so petite and dainty-looking had so much energy often shocked me. Almost as much as the new bright-red bob she now sported.

She dragged Ang and me over to a small group of people whom I recognised at once from school and, in more recent years from online updates. At our arrival several of the girls jumped up and enveloped the pair of us in welcoming hugs. While we were being passed around, Sam fetched our first round of drinks, which she pushed into our hands the moment we were freed. I could tell it was going to be a great night.

“Samantha, you never change do you? Well, apart from the hair.” Angela smiled at the tiny cyclone-like woman who had organised the entire event solo, her bright blue eyes flashing at Sam’s excitement. “Who else is coming?”

“Everyone we ever knew and more.” It was obvious to anyone who knew her that Samantha was on cloud nine. She’d always been a natural born organiser and hated it when things didn’t go how she wanted.

:: ::

The night got rowdier as time went on and more people joined us, causing our group to take over the pub. Memories were traded back and forth within the ever-growing crowd. After a while, Samantha led us to a private function room upstairs which had been booked for the reunion. A DJ was setting his gear up, next to the fully stocked and staffed bar.

Angela and I sat down at a round table surrounded by old friends I’d never thought I’d see again. I couldn’t help but look at the door every time more people arrived, watching and waiting. There was no sign of Shane; maybe he couldn't make it after all.
It wasn’t like he’d promised he’d be there,
I had to remind myself. I tried not to let it bother me and threw myself into enjoying catching up with people’s lives and having a good night.

”I’m going to the loo. I'll get another drink on the way back,” I announced a couple of hours later. Angela nodded, not breaking off her conversation with the person sat next to her and I made my way downstairs to the ladies’. I glanced in the mirror to make sure my hair and makeup were still intact then washed my hands before heading back to buy another round of drinks as promised.

A young and flirty barman made me feel good about myself and helped me stand that little bit taller while he quickly served up the drinks. I was putting my change back into my purse when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder.

“Hey.”

A gentle voice I’d never forgotten washed over me like a warm breeze. I turned to look into Shane’s mesmerising green eyes. He had aged well; the pictures I’d seen online had done him no justice.

“Hey, you.” He pulled me into a tight hug that lasted a little longer than was absolutely necessary, not that I complained. “You made it then.”
Way to state the obvious, Heidi.

“Yeah, my train was delayed and then my phone died so I couldn’t send you a message to let you know. I only got into London an hour ago. Would you look at me in disgust if I admitted to not getting changed out the clothes I travelled in?”

I shook my head at him, his arms still holding me against his broad chest while he ordered a bottle of beer. “You don’t smell, it’s all good.”

Shane let go of me, allowing me to take a sip of my drink. He stood back, raking his eyes up and down my body. “You look amazing tonight. I said you still had it.”

His grin was a little crooked. I remembered how it had made me feel all those years ago and suppressed a shudder of attraction.

“Thanks, you don't look too bad yourself.” I reached up to touch his dark blond hair. “You took my advice and cut it.” It was still long enough to fall into his eyes, but it worked for him and let the green of his eyes shine through the strands.

“Yeah, finally. I’d be stupid not to take the advice of a beautiful, sexy woman.”

“Such a charmer.” I punched him on the arm. “I need to get this wine upstairs before Angela sends a hunting party. You coming?”

Shane raised his eyebrows at me, that slight smirk still tugging at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t need to say a word—I'd not forgotten his talent of hearing innuendos in everything. 

“If you insist.” With a wink, he grabbed his beer and followed me.

“You better not be checking out my arse.” I spoke over my shoulder knowing full well that, as a man who had always been a fan of the female rear end, he was looking. His throaty chuckle was answer enough.

Angela spotted us when we entered the function room, and sat back in her seat with a wide smile on her face. I made my way over to her, placing the bottle of wine on the table. She refilled her empty glass while the wheels of her mind must have been working in overdrive at the sight of us together again. Her jaw clenched, I guessed to prevent herself from blurting out anything embarrassing when I sat down next to her. Some people who had been in Shane’s year sat at the next table rose to accost him.

“He showed, then.” Angela and I shared an innate ability to vocalise what any idiot could see for himself.

I watched his tall frame while he chatted to friends. “Yup.” 

“He’s looking pretty nifty.” 

That I couldn’t disagree with and let out a low whistle meant for her ears alone. “He really is.” Getting older had worked in his favour. It didn’t hurt that he’d kept up with the boxing he was mad about, which had kept him fit and toned.

"Calm down, lady." She laughed at me as Jodie joined us.

Jodie Jackson had always been beautiful and the man-magnet of our little group. We were soon so caught up in reminiscing, I managed to forget about Shane and the way I was still attracted to him, even after all these years.

The lights throughout the entire room dimmed when the DJ was told it was time to get the party started. Jodie dragged Angela and me over to the small dance floor, which was starting to fill up with our old classmates showing off how drunk they were. Letting go of my inhibitions, I began to lose myself in the beat that was pumping out of the speakers. A couple of times I caught Shane watching me through the lights, which caused me to ramp up the sexuality of my movements.

I was determined to have a good time, and it was an added bonus that I could see Shane was starting to see what he’d missed out on. Yes, it was cruel to tease him this way, but we’d never see each other again and it added a little something extra, a bit of an ego boost to the evening. So, the mild teasing continued. Looking around, I could see most of the women in the room were doing the same in some form or another. 

Deciding I’d had enough of dancing thanks to my shoes rubbing at my heels, I practically crawled over to our abandoned table and pulled myself into a chair. My feet were in a state of white hot agony and I was beginning to feel tired. Drinking my now-warm wine, I sat and watched my friends strutting across the dance floor. The chair to my left shifted a little closer. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Shane while he settled in next to me and took a swig of his beer. Trying to be discreet, I watched his Adam’s apple bob under the smattering of stubble that covered his face and neck.

“Having a good time?” he asked, positioning his mouth directly next to my ear to be heard over the pounding bass, yet quiet enough so that the next table couldn’t hear our conversation. I couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down my entire body at the feel of his breath caressing my skin while he spoke.

“Yeah, I'm glad I came. My feet won’t be forgiving me anytime soon for the torture of high heels, though.”

Shane glanced down at my shoes, his eyes widening a little in shock. “Those are ridiculously hot shoes.” He bent down to get a closer look, a smirk on his face. “They must make you almost as tall as me.” Looking at me, he reclined, leaning against the backrest, and I met his gaze as I took a sip of Dutch courage. “You look fantastic tonight.”

“Thanks, so do you.” I was telling the truth. His jeans stretched across the muscles in his thighs, and the green shirt—which was a perfect match to his eyes—hinted at the definition of his chest which was broader than when we were at school. I jumped when all of a sudden he placed his hand on my leg and began stroking his thumb along the inside seam of my jeans. The heat from his large palm spread upward, making me want to squirm. No longer did I have the upper hand in our ‘relationship’.

“That top is pretty damn perfect, but these jeans are very much my favourite part of your entire outfit. I don’t remember you wearing anything like this to school.”

I couldn't concentrate on anything other than his thumb and the gentle movements it made on the inside of my leg.

“Er . . . I never had the confidence to dress like this, how I really wanted, at school. There were so many pretty girls with better figures that I knew I’d fade into the background. Besides, I liked my combats and vest top combos back then.”

“You were far more eye-catching than those other girls for that exact reason. You left a lot to the imagination, and I’ve always had a wonderful imagination. Then there was that sparkle in your eye which made you so much more than
just pretty
. You were attractive, dare I say beautiful, because you never put on an act. Lots of lads prefer that to the obvious and overeager. Plus, you had, still have, that wicked personality and sense of humour.”

I cocked an eyebrow at that. He must have been drunk because I was
never
seen that way at school. Looking back, I was the walking cliché of a regular Plain Jane who was just one of the lads.

“Honestly, Heidi. Have you not noticed the looks you’ve been getting tonight from pretty much every male in the room?”

I snorted at his question. “That’s only because it’s been ten years since I’ve seen any of these guys. They don’t see me every other month, so of course I’m interesting to them.”

“That's not why they’re staring, believe me. I can almost read their minds just from the looks on their faces.”

I needed fresh air so I grabbed my bag. “I need a cigarette. You’re making me blush.” Standing, I tossed back the last of my drink then went down to the beer garden.

:: ::

For almost half an hour I sat at an abandoned table by the wall, smoking my cigarettes one after the other. Apart from a few voices filtering out through the open doors, I sat in complete silence. Not one other person came out, but I could hear voices. It seemed most of the smokers were outside the front, leaving me to feel like I was the only smoker in the building.

Leaning back against the wall, I let the soft breeze play over my flushed face and was savouring a bit of peace and quiet when I looked at my watch and jumped. I hadn’t realised that it was so late—time certainly does fly when you’re having fun. Which I had been having, before the need to escape into the dark overtook me. Crushing out my cigarette in the huge metal ashtray, I stood to go back inside. I stalled when I caught sight of Shane making his way through the crowded downstairs room of the pub, walking in the direction of the beer garden. Towards me. Crumpling back down onto the seat, I lit another cigarette, my hand shaking from nerves, and . . . something else. It was okay sitting close to him in a crowded room surrounded by people, but the garden was deserted and dark. He spotted me pretty quick thanks to the glowing orange tip of my lit cigarette.