Wish You Were Here Read online

  *****

  “Well, this is it. We're here.” Lucy said as they took their bags out of the boot of the cab.

  Sam took some cash from his wallet, and paid the driver. The pair stood motionless on the kerb as they watched him pull away and disappear into the distance.

  “I think your phone's ringing again,” Sam said, pointing to Lucy's handbag.

  Lucy reached in and stared at the screen, an anguished look on her face.

  “Just answer it, Lucy. Once we're on that plane and in the air there'll be no turning back, no communication.”

  “I don't know what to say.”

  “Say 'Hello', the rest will follow. I'm gonna go grab a coffee. I'll meet you inside.”

  Sam made his way into the airport concourse. Finding the nearest café, he ordered a drink and found a seat at the open plan bar. Ten minutes passed by before Sam saw Lucy emerging through the automatic doors, tears streaming down her face leaving mascara trail marks.

  Sam made his way towards her and embraced her in his arms, her head resting upon his shoulder.

  “I'm sorry, Sam.” She said, sobbing quietly. “I can't go with you. I’ll pay you back for the ticket though.”

  “It's okay, Lucy.” He replied, stroking her hair reassuringly.

  “I’m going to get a cab. Nathan's meeting me back at my place; we're going to give it another go. Do things properly. Learn from our mistakes.”

  “I'm really pleased to hear that, Lucy.”

  “But there's something else I have to tell you,” Lucy said, pulling back from him. “I need to be honest with you, tell you the truth.”

  “What is it?” Sam replied.

  “I’m pregnant Sam, and… and Nathan never cheated on me. It was the other way round. When I told him I was pregnant, he told me to get rid of it. ‘Get rid of it!’ Like it was nothing. I was upset, I was angry. I went out, I drank too much and I went home with some random guy. It was stupid, and I feel so ashamed. Ashamed that I was the one to cheat, ashamed of drinking. I was just so angry, I blamed him. I felt like he’d made me do it. But I guess today, the time we've spent together, it put things in perspective. I don’t want to be this way anymore. I mean, I’m scared. Terrified in fact, but you can’t fear what comes next in the life. You just have to hope for the best and keep moving forward. I’m sorry Sam, I’m sorry that I can’t go away with you, and I’m sorry that I lied to you.”

  “That's okay.” He replied with a note of relief in his voice. “I guess I haven’t been entirely honest with you either.”

  “What do you mean?” She asked, mascara laced tears rolling down her cheek.

  “I don’t know how to say this, Lucy.”

  “Say what?”

  “It’s just; I’ve been telling the same old lies for so long that I’m afraid. Afraid that telling the truth will make it real.”

  “You’re scaring me, Sam. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

  Sam stared out into space, avoiding Lucy’s gaze.

  “I was never married.”

  “What?”

  “I was never married, Lucy.”

  “But your wife? Nancy? I’ve seen the photos.”

  “Nancy left me three months after we met.”

  “I don’t understand. What about the holidays, travelling the world together?”

  “I made it all up.”

  “No, you can’t have. That’s not possible. Why would you even say that?”

  “Because it’s the truth. There were no holidays, there was no marriage, no long relationship. I made it up.”

  “So that night on the platform, that never happened?”

  “That part was true. I did meet Nancy that night, and I did fall in love with her.”

  “So let me get this straight. You met her. You fell in love with her. Then she left you after three months. And you made up a relationship for the next three years? You told everyone you were married. You invented your perfect life, with the perfect woman – and then you invented it falling apart?”

  “Nothing truly beautiful can last forever.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense, it’s messed up.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Is anything you told me true, or was it just one lie after another?”

  “Don’t hate me, Lucy.”

  A moment passed in silence, two insignificant figures within the hustle and bustle of a busy airport.

  “So the holidays, all those places you said you went to. You mean you went to those places alone?”

  “Not exactly. I’ve not been abroad since I was fourteen, a class trip to Germany.”

  “But all those postcards, the souvenirs?”

  “I ordered them online. In those three months, Nancy and I had planned it all, the places we wanted to go. I’d imagine these amazing vacations, and then I’d go onto eBay and bid on postcards, t-shirts, trinkets.”

  Lucy stood motionless, an expression of confusion upon her face.

  “It’s creepy Sam, to be so obsessed over a woman who left you for another man.”

  “She didn’t leave me for another man.”

  “But you said…”

  “I know what I said.”

  “So what did happen then?”

  “That night, the night Lucy left me. She told me on the phone she was staying for one more drink, and that was the truth. She stayed for one more drink, then left to walk to the station.”

  “But the man?”

  “The man who took her from me? He was behind the wheel of a car. He lost control, mounted the kerb. Nancy never stood a chance. She died on the street in the arms of a drunken stranger. She never answered my calls that night, because she couldn’t.”

  Lucy felt a chill run through her body, as Sam stared down at his scuffed Chuck Taylors.

  “This was a bad idea wasn’t it?’ He said, breaking the silence. “I’m just going to get in a cab and head home.”

  Lucy paused for a moment gathering her thoughts.

  “No.” She said calmly. “You need to go, and not just to America. Not just Route 66, you need to go to all those places. Live the life you planned. I never knew Nancy, but the way you described her she doesn’t sound like the sort of woman who’d want you rotting away in that flat of yours.”

  “I appreciate what you’re saying, Lucy, but I think I’m happier this way. Maybe it’s better to believe in a dream than despair over reality.”

  “That’s your choice to make, Sam. I’ll be back at work tomorrow morning, and don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope you’re not there.”

  Sam smiled, nodding his head in acknowledgement.

  “And if I am?”

  “We’ll still be friends of course we will. But, please, don’t give up on your journey just because you’re travelling alone. You can do this.”

  Leaning in Nancy gave him a hug, and kissed him softly on the cheek.

  “Take care of yourself, nerd.”

  Sam returned to his seat, and watched as Lucy disappeared into the crowd.

  Twenty minutes went by as Sam watched people coming and going, families, couples, travellers, embarking on voyages and returning from them, each with their own stories to tell. He sat motionless as his coffee became cold, and the boarding call grew ever closer. Then, as if struck by a sudden realisation, he picked up his bag with the leopard-print scarf still tied around the handle. He placed it on the table and unzipped it. Searching around inside, he pulled out the passport he had spent so long searching for. Slowly, he opened it and stared at the picture of Nancy. He studied her face, and the memories came flooding back. The overwhelming tidal wave of emotion that had pulled him under, dragging him down to a dark place almost impossible to emerge from. With his hands shaking, he placed the passport back inside his bag, closed the zip, stood up and walked out of the café.

  – END –

 

 

  About the Author

  Les Rolt was born in London, England in 1985. He was inspir
ed to start writing short-stories in 2005 whilst drinking free coffee refills and smoking Camels at a Village Inn in Colorado, USA. Les is currently in a long-term relationship with Netflix.

  If you enjoyed Wish You Were Here, then check out his debut short story The Bitter End.

  You can also find more words from Les, along with updates on upcoming projects, by following him on Twitter.

 

  Written by Les Rolt

  Cover design Copyright © 2015 by Les Rolt

  Editing by Laura Company

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.