It’s a Wonderful Night: A delightfully feel-good festive romance for 2018!. Jaimie Admans

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ kind of life-affirming,’ I say pointedly. ‘It really shows the importance of every life. No matter how insignificant we think we are, our little lives still make a big difference.’

      He considers it for a moment. ‘You have no idea how much I needed to hear that tonight.’

      We sit there in silence for a while, neither of us speaking, and I realize I’m holding the phone handset so tightly that the plastic must be in danger of cracking by now. It feels like a lifeline to him and I could sit here all night just listening to him breathe. His breath has got that shuddery hitch you get after a long cry, and I have never wanted to hug someone so badly in all my life.

      At the end of the high street, the church bell dongs for midnight.

      ‘Every time a bell rings,’ he murmurs. ‘Did you hear that?’

      It makes my heart pound harder. It’s what I say every time I hear a bell ring too because they make me think of my mum. I love that he knows the film so well because it means so much to me and not many people get that.

      ‘I heard something,’ I say, because I don’t know whether he’s asking if I heard it through the phone or if he realizes I’m just down the road.

      ‘That was the Oakbarrow church telling us all it’s officially December.’

      ‘Christmas month,’ I say.

      ‘Don’t remind me. I can’t deal with Christmas this year.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘It makes me realize that another year has gone by and I’ve done nothing with my life. You’re supposed to be all happy happy, joy joy at Christmas and I’ve got nothing left in me to give.’

      ‘I wouldn’t mind betting that the only reason you’ve got nothing left is because you’re so busy looking after everyone else that you forget to take care of yourself,’ I say, because so many men are the same. He’s probably a guy who’s grown up thinking men must always be strong and never let their feelings show. It’s a toxic masculinity that’s dangerous to men’s mental health. It’s why suicide is the biggest killer of men under fifty. Men bottle things up inside and don’t let it out until it’s too late. I don’t know the exact figures off the top of my head, but I do know that a majority of One Light’s callers are male because of this exact reason.

      ‘My mum always says that.’

      ‘Mums are always right,’ I murmur, wishing mine was still here.

      ‘Sometimes I feel like I’m frightened of being alive.’

      My breath catches in my throat. ‘Me too.’

      ‘Really?’

      ‘Yeah,’ I say slowly, nodding even though he can’t see me. ‘No one’s ever hit the nail on the head like that before. That’s exactly how I feel too.’

      ‘I’ve always wanted to travel but I never have.’

      ‘Me neither. I’ve never told anyone this but my ultimate dream is to go backpacking around Europe,’ I say wondering what it is about him that makes him so easy to talk to.

      ‘Really?’ he says again. ‘I’d love to do that.’

      ‘I think I’m a bit old for it now, it’s kind of a “gap year” thing, isn’t it?’ I shake my head at myself. I’m too old for daydreams like this, I should’ve forgotten it years ago. ‘It’s just a dream anyway. I have responsibilities that I can’t just leave.’

      ‘Me too. I was going to travel after college, but family stuff happened and I couldn’t leave, then I was going off to uni but more family stuff came up, and it made more sense for me to get a job and stay here, so I’d been saving up for years to do one big trip somewhere, and then my dad died, and I bought the business, and now … well, I’m still here. I keep feeling like there has to be more to life than this.’

      ‘Me too,’ I say.

      ‘Wow, really? Sorry, I keep saying that, don’t I? I’ve never spoken to someone who knew that feeling before.’

      ‘Me neither. And there you go, I just keep repeating some variation of “me too” and “me neither”. It doesn’t make for the most exciting conversation in the world but I’ve never said this to anyone before.’

      ‘Me neither,’ he says, making us both laugh. My grip on the phone tightens, like if I hold it tight enough he’ll be able to feel me squeezing his hand through the handset.

      ‘This isn’t what I thought my life would be like,’ I admit. ‘And I know I can’t really complain because I’m so lucky compared to others, but I feel like I’m still waiting for my life to start.’

      ‘I think we might literally be the same person. I’m thirty-seven and I feel exactly the same. I’m too old to still be waiting for my life to begin and too young to be this jaded, but I don’t know what to do about it.’

      So he’s only three years older than me. I couldn’t possibly know him, no matter how familiar his voice sounds. I can’t think of anyone around that age who could be in such a dark place and hiding it so well.

      ‘Me too,’ I whisper.

      ‘We grow up thinking life will be wonderful and amazing and exciting, and it’s just quite dull really, isn’t it? I keep thinking what if I die before anything wonderful or amazing or exciting happens to me?’ He gives a self-deprecating snort. ‘And yes, I know throwing yourself off a bridge isn’t exactly conducive to that.’

      At least he hasn’t lost his sense of humour. He lets out a wobbly little giggle and I feel something like butterflies in my tummy. How can I possibly have butterflies over someone I don’t even know? Someone who phoned because he was about to jump off a bridge?

      ‘Okay, so … I should go, shouldn’t I?’ he says after a few moments silence.

      ‘You don’t have to. We can carry on talking.’ I kind of want him to stay on the line for my sake now. I love talking to him. There’s something about him that’s so easy to chat to and a familiarity that you’d only expect to feel with a friend.

      I can hear the smile in his voice. ‘As tempting as that sounds, I think I should go home. I’m so cold that I might actually die from hypothermia and, thanks to you, I’ve realized I don’t want to die tonight.’

      ‘Or any other night, right?’

      ‘Nah. I’ll stick to killing myself only in daylight hours.’

      ‘I’m glad you can joke about it, but it’s not funny. You were really going to –’

      ‘I know,’ he whispers. ‘But I feel better already just from talking to you, getting it off my chest, feeling like I’m not alone.’

      He pauses and I can almost sense how ashamed he feels. I want to tell him that there’s no reason to be, but I’m out of my depth and don’t know how to word it.

      ‘I can’t thank you enough for staying on the line with me. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sure I’ve totally ruined your СКАЧАТЬ