All the Single Ladies (44 page)

If I had any romantic feelings left for him, I might feel a bit frustrated by this. All that turmoil to end up back at Phones-A-Go-Go.

But I don’t. I feel nothing for him except a vague fondness and the recognition that, while we had some great times together, those times came to an end. Times I shouldn’t have clung
on to for dear life when the relationship was on its last legs. Still, I wish Jamie all the best, I really do. And I hope he finds happiness one day, even if I haven’t any more of a clue than
he does what form that might take.

Luke, on the other hand, is happy. Gemma has him wrapped around her little finger, so much so that he’s asked her to move in with him. He’s confident she’ll keep the tea towels
in a better state than Jamie did.

As for Mum, Dad and Julia . . . well, I have nothing to report. Nothing at all. Despite the massive, dramatic revelations that unfolded six months ago, everyone remains exactly as they always
were. Julia sees Gary a lot, of course, and has built up a great relationship with him. They visit each other once a month. But that’s about the only thing that’s different – and
she wouldn’t have it any other way.

As I approach the gates to St Luke’s church I feel more nervous than I have before for any date, ever. Which is silly, because it’s not as though we haven’t had plenty of
contact in the last six months. Skype calls every other night, constant texts and emails. But they’re a poor substitute for the feel of someone’s skin against yours, the warmth of a
strong hand.

As I enter the gates of the church, Ben is on the same bench where we sat on our first date. With blood pumping through my ears I try to keep my walk steady, calm. But when he looks up from his
newspaper and stiffens, smiling, I lose my cool and break into a spontaneous giggle.

I’m in front of him in seconds with his hands clasping mine, our faces inches apart. When our lips touch, my body melts and I want to cry and laugh at the same time. Instead, I pull back,
with emotion soaring through me, and whisper, ‘Ben Moran, I love you too.’