The next morning, so early that the birds are only just starting to stir and the streets are quiet and empty, I kiss James goodbye on the doorstep. I don’t remember him getting into bed after he jumped in the shower when we got home. I think I was so full of food I basically passed out.
‘I’ll see you later,’ he says, curling a hand into my hair and pressing a final kiss on my forehead.
He’s reliable, he’s handsome, he’s solvent, and he calls when he says he will. My God, he reminds me of that Taylor Swift song. And my friends love him. I think of Alex for a second and then shake my head.
He’s basically the perfect boyfriend. I watch him striding down Albany Road, turning to wave goodbye before he disappears out of view.
I turn around and head back upstairs. There’s a moment when I pause outside my bedroom, one hand on the door, and I look across at Alex’s door. I wonder if he’s asleep, or if he’s lying staring at the ceiling like I used to when he was sharing a bed with Emma. I shake myself. Of course he’s not.
I put a hand up to lift my phone and check the time. A groan of exhaustion escapes almost unbidden. It’s half five. I’d been woken in the middle of the night by the thud of Jess’s bedroom door closing, and the sound of soft laughter, followed by silence. So I’d put a pillow over my head, determined to block out the sound – and the idea – of Jess in bed with James.
I roll over and stare at the ceiling, hands behind my head. James is a nice enough bloke, as far as I can see. Easy-going, stable, a proper grown-up – all the usual stuff. We’ve exchanged pleasantries in the kitchen a couple of times over the past few weeks since Jess started seeing him, and I think I’ve done a pretty good job of hiding how I feel. Feeling anything wasn’t on my list of things to achieve this year. I’m not quite sure how Jess snuck in under the radar, but I have, in fact, decided the best way to deal with it is to just face up to their relationship head on (because Jess is a friend, and therefore I am – like a good friend – very happy that she has met someone nice), so I’ve suggested to Jess that she bring James on one of our London walks. We’re going to head up to Hampstead at the weekend and take a wander round. We’ll have something to talk about, a set route, and an end point at the pub, where I can have a pint with them, then leave them to it and head back home to my room.
And then I’ll have a cold shower or punch a pillow or something like that. Yep, completely sorted. Everything is under control.