Lost in Manchester - 9. Someone to Talk to. November 2009. James.

“So I have a date tonight” James said, breaking the silence in the office. It had been a fairly quiet morning so far, and too much quiet started to feel awkward.

Adam looked up and smiled. “That’s awesome man. So you can totally get over that girl from the bar”.

Ahh. The girl from the bar. Nancy. He never told Adam what happened. Probably never would. He hadn’t said much the following few days though, so Adam seemed to have assumed nothing had happened.

The truth was, a lot happened. Too much. At first it had been an awesome evening. They’d gone back to her place and he couldn’t even remember much in between that and then lying in her bed, enjoying the afterglow. It had felt so amazing, and for her too - you could tell. They had been all over each other.

But then the reaction had kicked back at him. He could feel it all over his body, like his skin was a sheet of metal and every touch was like an electric shock. He had tried to get her to stop touching him, but she didn’t know. She didn’t know to stop. He hadn’t meant to shout, but it had happened, and then there was no way back. After that, whatever amends he tried to make, in her eyes he was the total stranger in her flat who was going crazy. All he could remember next was the sting of her hand across his face, and the blast of cold air hitting him on the way out.

“She seems nice” James concluded, ignoring the mention of the girl from the bar. “So how about you anyway. Did you start dating yet?”

They hadn’t really talked about their dating lives since that first night out. Maybe he shouldn’t be going there.

“Yeah, of course” Adam said, grinning.

“Oh really? Anyone nice?”

“Well, none that are keepers. You don’t want to know the names”

“Wow” James said laughing. “Are there too many to remember?”

“Single gay life man. I have a date tonight too though. Who knows, maybe this one will graduate to a second date”

An email popped up on James’ screen about his pay review next week and he opened it and scanned down.

“Yeah?” he replied, distractedly.

“Maybe. Well, actually probably not. I have reservations about him, but he looks good. Nice bum”.

James got to the bottom of the email. There was nothing interesting in it. After a few seconds his brain caught up with his ears.

“Wait, his bum? Like, he sent you a photo of his butt on a dating site?”

Adam smiled. “If only that was all they sent photos of”.

The evening came around quickly.

James was walking uncomfortably quickly across town, checking his watch every few steps. It was 25 past already and they had arranged to meet at half past. As the guy he really should be there first to meet her.

Tessa arrived exactly on half past seven, stepping out of a taxi. He recognised her immediately, her brown hair curled down to her shoulders, and a perfectly fitting blue dress showing off her long legs. He made eye contact and walked across.

“Wow” he said, greeting her. “You look beautiful”.

“Thanks. You’re looking good too” she replied, checking him up and down approvingly. “Now, where are we going for food, i’m starving.”

He laughed. “Direct is good. I like direct.”

She looked at him expectantly.

“Ok” he said, “this way”, and gestured in the direction of the restaurant. She smiled and put her arm through his.

They arrived at the restaurant and were shown through the intimately lit room to a quiet table for two by a window looking out over the street below. A bright sunflower stood proudly in a thin turquoise vase at the centre of their table, and in the background a pianist was playing.

Tessa went to freshen up before sitting down, and James checked his phone. Adam had texted to say his date for the evening had left him standing around in some dodgy bar. James quickly typed a reply.

Give him hell when he gets there. All ok here so far. She seems great.

Through dinner they chatted easily about all sorts. She told him all about her family – mum, dad and one sister, all still in the city - and her work at the hospital. He told her about growing up just outside Toronto, how daunting it was moving across to London for University, and all about his job. It felt like he covered most of his life story. Everything except college, obviously. He wasn’t going to talk to her about college.

When he was talking, she gave him every bit of her attention, those keen eyes fixed on his, absorbing everything he said. She asked thoughtful questions and laughed at all the right times. When they had lulls in conversation he even felt comfortable enjoying their surroundings in the silence with her.

Ninety minutes later they had finished their meal and were sitting on a plush red sofa in a Northern Quarter wine bar, sipping a glass of cabernet sauvignon. They sat side by side, one leg bent up onto the seat facing each other. Their knees were almost touching and she was fluttering eyelashes, touching her neck, and making all the other moves that guy magazines told you were definitely good signals.

For a second his mind flashed back to the sterile psychologist’s office in London. Those plain grey walls and lack of any signs of life. There was literally nothing in there that didn’t have a practical use. No decoration, or talking points, or anything resembling happiness.

“So tell me” came the perfectly enunciated voice, “have you found anybody you can talk to since you came across to England? About what happened I mean.”

James shook his head.

“No close friends or romantic interests?” It was such a patronising question.

He shook his head again.

“James, it would really help you to open up more. You know what happened wasn’t your fault.”

His insides tightened up. These doctors had no idea. They didn’t know what happened. No-one knew.

The guy was looking at him, awaiting any kind of response.

“I’ll be fine.” he mumbled.

He looked up again at Tessa. She must have noticed he had gone quiet but she was just gazing back at him with generous eyes.

A small part of him wanted to tell her. She was so calm and kind and beautiful.

She looked at her watch.

“I should really make a move anyway. I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

“Oh, sure, sure” James said, snapping away from the thought. “Me too”. He helped her on with her coat and they stepped out into the cold night. Walking slowly back towards the taxi rank, she linked her arm up again to his.

They passed an alley with a neon light shining out from the darkness. Further along the road a tall, rough looking man in a long coat approached quickly and brushed past the two of them. You would think he was a homeless guy by the look of him, only he was walking too purposefully. A few seconds later a cleaner-shaven man followed, brandishing a bottle of vodka.

“Next alley on the right Tommy” the second man shouted ahead and took a swig from the bottle.

“It’s Thomas” the first guy shouted back with a thick Irish accent. “And I know the damn direction Mr Celebrity”.

James pulled Tessa in a little closer.

“I bet you do you scoundrel. Down here every night?”

“I might as well be. I’ve got piss all else to get up for young Aaron”

“It’s Aiden man. C’mon, I was on TV 24/7 for like ten weeks. How can you not remember Aiden?”

Their voices faded as James and Tessa approached the taxi rank.

James stopped a few metres short of the taxi and turned to face her.

“Listen, I’ve really enjoyed tonight. It’d be really cool to see you again, if you want?”

She smiled back. “Me too”. She was pausing though.

“What is it?” he asked.

“James, listen, I think you’re a great guy and everything, but, cards on the table, you’re a bit passive for me. There were, kind of, too many silences tonight, and not enough excitement. I don’t think we’ve got that…spark.”

She leaned across and kissed him on the cheek, and she was gone.

James stood like a statue. The lump in his throat was too big to swallow. Finally he met a nice, good looking, level headed woman, and still, within the space of one evening he’d managed to screw it up.

Eventually he found the movement to stumble his way homewards. He got out his phone to text Adam, desperately needing to hear from a friend. But thirty minutes passed and he heard nothing back. Adam must have given up on that guy and was probably asleep already. At least one of the two of them would get some sleep that night.