The Life We Almost Had. Amelia Henley

The Life We Almost Had - Amelia Henley


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I’d never truly felt with Roxanne, with her constant obsession with her appearance. With my appearance. Making me change before a night out if what I was wearing didn’t complement her outfit.

      ‘Shall we head up there?’ I pointed to a slope that led off the beach.

      In unison, we turned. Our bodies were close as we strolled, arms almost brushing. I could have stretched out my fingers and taken her hand, but I didn’t.

      We paused when we reached the path. Brushing the sand from our feet before slipping our flip-flops on. Hers were silver and sparkly. Mine were from Primark, white and plastic. Roxanne would have been horrified.

      A row of kiosks selling postcards and buckets and spades provided a strip of shade and we stepped into it thankfully, welcoming the kiss of warmth rather than the beating heat.

      A man approached us and thrust a clipboard under Anna’s nose. Pushed a pen into her hand. He tapped twice on the sentence at the top of the form written in broken English. Some sort of petition to keep open a school for deaf children. Anna glanced at the man, confused. He placed his hands over his ears.

      ‘You’re deaf,’ Anna said.

      He nodded. Moved a hand to cover his mouth.

      ‘You can’t talk?’

      He shook his head.

      Anna’s expression was one of sadness. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She spoke slowly. Clearly, exaggerating each word with the movement of her lips. ‘What do you need?’

      He twisted his fingers, signing things we didn’t understand.

      ‘I can’t… I don’t know sign language,’ Anna said.

      The man tapped twice on the sentence again, this time with force. The clipboard bowing in Anna’s hands. He slid his finger down to a blank space before pointing at Anna.

      ‘You want me to sign my name?’

      He nodded. His hands making circles as though there was more.

      ‘My address?’

      He nodded again. Tapped the paper too hard. He was getting my back up now. He might be deaf but that was no excuse to be rude and intimidating.

      ‘You don’t have to—’ I began but Anna had begun scrawling out her details.

       Anna Adlington.

      ‘Good luck.’ She handed the clipboard back to him with a smile. She began to walk on but he put a hand against her shoulder, stopping her. He rubbed his fingers together, the universal sign for cold hard cash.

      ‘Oh, you want money!’ Anna’s cheeks spotted pink. ‘I’m so sorry, I don’t have my bag. Adam… do you…’

      I did have my wallet but I wasn’t giving anything to this tosser with his aggressive attitude. It was probably a scam.

      ‘No, I don’t.’ I took Anna’s arm and went to walk away but the man blocked my path.

      ‘Listen, mate.’ I straightened my spine. ‘We’re not giving you any money, understand?’

      The man began to shout, angry words, and despite the language barrier I could guess what he was saying.

      ‘Back off.’ I held up my palm, shielding Anna with my other arm. We hurried away.

      ‘He lied,’ she said quietly. ‘You really can’t trust anyone.’ I could hear the crack in her voice as she spoke and I knew she was thinking of whoever had hurt her, just as I was thinking of Roxanne.

      ‘I’d better get back to Nell.’ She wouldn’t meet my eye and began to hurry away.

      ‘Anna.’ I hesitated as she paused. Unsure what I wanted to say. That not all men are bastards. That I’d never hurt her. Lie to her. That rejection was raw for me as well, that I understood; finding Roxanne in bed with her boss, her legs wrapped around his waist while a band of pain tightened around my heart. There was so much I wanted to say but I didn’t say any of it. Instead, I asked, ‘I’d very much like to have dinner later. With you, I mean. You and me having dinner together. What do you think?’

      It was crazy to ask. A holiday romance wasn’t on the agenda. A quick fling wasn’t my style and I had plans for after this fortnight. A new life waiting that wouldn’t accommodate a relationship. But still, in that moment we felt all kinds of right for each other. I didn’t know then that we were all kinds of wrong for each other.

      I didn’t know, while I waited for her answer, that I should, perhaps, have walked away.

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