Moving On

David peered up at the final box, resting on the top shelf of the near empty cupboard. The box filled with his past. He closed his eyes. The rest of the flat now stood in neatly packed boxes in the living room, waiting for the early call of the removal van. Only this one, final box remained to be sorted. Keeping his eyes closed, David reached up and placed a hand on each side of the container. As he brought it above his head, David felt something slide off the lid. There was a slap of leather, as a book landed on the floor behind him.

Once the box of their things sat safely on the floor, David picked up the book. He removed one of the cleaning rags from his back, right pocket and wiped away the years of dust: revealing the worn, black cover he knew so well.

Without a kettle to boil, David sat down, with a plastic cup of water, on the cushion-less sofa. Opening the front cover, he was instantly transported, through the opening lines of the first stanza, to the top floor of the number 4, spring sun streaming in from the city streets beyond. Once upon a time, he and that little black notebook were inseparable. In it, he had written down everything he came across: interesting words; historical facts; comic phrases and the greatest poetry his young mind could manage to concoct. All in an effort to impress her.

Jane was the reason, she had always been the reason. Ever since university, she had been the reason for his whole existence: the reason for moving north; for renting a flat they could barely afford; for him religiously buying three scratch cards, every Friday, from the corner store.

To begin with, they’d been great together. She’d been the serious one, forging her career. He’d been the feckless one, bouncing happily from one dead-end job to another, focusing more on his writing than any career path. As he read from page to page, David moved from month to month, season to season, retracing the path of their lives together. The times they’d spent drinking together in their favourite pub, evenings glancing across the restaurant table at her, dodging the lit candle. Time spent walking together through the local park. Wandering through, hand in hand, both ice-cream sun and toe-numbing snow.

He stopped reading and looked round at the flat. The flat they had rented together. When she’d gone, he’d stopped going to the park, even though it was, literally, just around the corner. It was just too full of too many memories, especially the space where they had always stopped, in the middle of the causeway, to feed the ducks. Those memories had acted like a barrier, barring his way from ever returning. David closed the little black book and placed it back on top of the box of their shared past. He stood up and decided it was time to make a change. It was time to stop being afraid of the past. Putting on his coat, David decided it was time, to once more take a walk in the park.

The air outside was crisp. David could feel it making its icy way down into his lungs. Simply grabbing hold of the cold, metal kissing gate transported him back to that winter, three years before. With Christmas on its way, he’d been so happy, so unaware of how stifled Jane truly was, how unhappy she had become. He’d realised something was amiss however, when they’d got to the middle of the causeway. She hadn’t greeted the ducks in her customary way and was markedly more serious than she had ever been before. It was then that she’d told him about the job offer abroad. How she had a chance to significantly advance her career, expand her horizons. That she felt their relationship was stuck in a rut. That what had once been carefree and cute had morphed into something old and tired. She needed to break free.

David mentally kicked himself as he strode determinedly along the path. How had he missed how unhappy she had been? Yes, she’d always wanted them to move out of the flat, put a deposit on a small house on the other side of the park, but they’d never had enough money. He’d always said no, because of their situation. Thought it was merely a dream. He’d never realised that a failed dream could crush his entire life.

David looked up. He’d been so caught up in thoughts of the past that he’d failed to notice the lake at his side. The calls of the ducks came to him, crystal clear, through the winter air. He strode on purposefully, head down, towards the causeway. He would break this spell, here and now. He would face his fears, the ghosts of his past and stand in their spot once more.

As he approached the junction of the path and the causeway, David looked up and his feet froze. There was a woman in their spot, wearing a long, dark swing coat. Her hair was exactly the colour he remembered. David stood motionless, disbelieving, for some time. Was it her? When had she come back? The sense of wonder at what he was seeing suppressed the nausea welling in his stomach. He then turned and looked over his shoulder. The path back to the flat presented itself. The cowardly idea, of sneaking away, sprinted briefly through his mind, but it didn’t stay for long. A mixture of curiosity and desire welled up inside him, forcing David to stumble his way across the causeway towards her. As stealthily as he could manage, David drew up alongside her.

“Hello,” he managed, with only the hint of a petrified squeak in his voice.

Instinctively, she recoiled from this stranger and backed defensively away. Then she saw his face. “Hello.”

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Thought you were still in Germany.”

Jane smiled. “No, I’ve been back almost a year.” She obviously caught something in David’s expression, for she added, “I didn’t think you’d want to see me. Germany wasn’t the right place for me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Me too.” She kicked, embarrassed, at the railing.

“Where are you working?”

“Same place. They let me have my old job back, though I got the junior manager job in September.”

“Congratulations!”

Again, she smiled. “And you?”

“I’m a content writer. Write all the stuff on the website for an internet company in town.” David beamed. He had a real job. It even paid real money.

Jane beamed back. “That’s great. Good to hear. And where are you living?”

David cocked his head in the flat’s direction. “The same place as before. Well, until tomorrow.” The spark in her eyes signalled that he’d gained her attention.

“Why? What’s happening tomorrow?”

David wondered how long he could extend the moment. “I’m moving out in the morning. Moving into a small, perfectly formed house.”

Jane’s gloved hands slapped her cheeks, framing perfectly the circle of shock formed by her lips. “No way. You finally managed to save up a deposit.”

For a millisecond, David contemplated perpetuating the lie, but the truth was incredible enough, so he replied, “No, I won it. You know the scratch cards I always buy on a Friday?”

“Yes. One for you, one for me and one for luck.”

“Well, the lucky one was a winner. Enough for a generous deposit on a small house, anyway.”

Jane grinned. David knew she had worked it out, but she still asked, “Where is the house?”

David tilted his head towards the far side of the park. “Johnson Road.”

“Number 15?”

“Number 15.”

The smile on Jane’s face stretched now stretched wide. David knew the expression ‘from ear to ear’ well but had never seen it physically happen before. Number 15, Johnson Road had been Jane’s dream house. It was small, built of the local stone and said 1754 above the door. It had been built in the countryside, a hundred years before the town had grown. Now it stood, a small reminder of the area’s past, on a street of large, red-brick semi-detached dwellings. She had always commented on it, every single time they had walked past. When it had finally been sold, three years before, to someone else, David had always wondered if that had been the trigger, the impetus, for Jane to leave.

Now, she had a question. “Are you moving in with someone else?”

“No. Just me.”

The expression on her face changed a little. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Again, David shook his head. “No, just concentrating on my career.” The absurdity of the comment made them both laugh together. David could feel the weight of the last three years slip away. He just enjoyed each laugh, as the sound they made kissed his ears. “And you? Are you in a relationship?”

Embarrassment, caused the laugh to catch in her throat. Jane’s head dropped a little, so she was looking more at the floor than David. “Yes,” she began, “but it’s complicated.”

David looked at her. As had always been the case, he just couldn’t read her and he hadn’t got a clue what to do or what to say next. He just said the first thing that came into his head. “Do you come to the park often?”

She shook her head. “Only every other week or so. What about you?”

“Haven’t been here for three years.” Then, without thinking, he added, “Too many memories.”

Instantly, David realised he’d said the wrong thing. He lifted his eyes to hers. She had that same expression on her face, the one he had never understood. He felt foolish and stupid and desperate not too lose her from his life again.

She smiled, which David took to be a sign of hope. “Well, maybe now, you’ll come down to the park more often, only,” she pointed in the direction of Johnson Road, “you’ll be coming from that direction.”

David nodded. “Maybe I will.”

Jane smiled, a warm smile David had truly missed. “I’ve got to go. I’m already late. Really nice to see you again.” She turned, as if to set off in the direction of Johnson Road. She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. “Do you still have the same mobile number?”

“I do.” David still had the same phone. He wasn’t the sort of person to change anything in a hurry.

“Good,” she called out, as she strode off down the causeway.

David stood and watched her until she disappeared out of sight. Then he turned to lean on the railings, his mind a jumbled mess of thoughts and emotions. But he had company. One of the ducks was looking at him, with a ‘Give me food’ stare.

“What do you think?” David asked the startled duck, “Has my luck changed for the better or what?”