The Moment You Were Gone Read Online Free PDF Page B

and philosophy.’ His expression must have altered because she looked at him shrewdly. ‘What? You thought I was doing, let’s see – psychology. Or maybe English and art.’
    ‘No!’
    ‘Yes, you did. Scatty girl.’
    ‘I didn’t mean –’
    ‘Never mind. Do you always pull on your ear-lobe like that?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘And you never talk much?’
    ‘I don’t know. Probably not.’
    ‘Is that because you don’t want to?’
    ‘Well,’ he said, then stopped.
    ‘I mean, are there things you want to say but don’t know how to, or do you want to keep your thoughts private inside yourself? Or maybe there are a select few people you confide in.’
    ‘What I hate,’ he said, ‘is saying something that seems important and feeling that the person you’re saying it to isn’t really hearing it. Not hearing it the way you want it to be heard, if you see what I mean. That makes me feel – well, I hate it. I’d prefer to remain silent.’
    ‘I see,’ said Gaby. Then, after a pause: ‘Listen, Connor, I lied to you – I’m not studying physics and philosophy, I only said that to impress you. English literature, after all.’
    ‘You never needed to try to impress me,’ said Connor. He felt intoxicated by sudden happiness.
    ‘And the car swerved to avoid me,’ said Gaby.
    ‘You mean –’
    ‘It swerved to avoid me. I was in the middle of the road, going down the hill. It swerved, skidded and went out of control round the bend. And I didn’t even say that to the policeman.’
    ‘Are you sure?’
    ‘It’s my fault.’
    ‘It’s not your fault,’ said Connor. ‘He was probably drunk, and –’
    ‘Don’t try to comfort me. I know. If it hadn’t been for me on my bloody bike, they would still be alive.’
    Connor didn’t reply. He took one hand off the bike, reached out for Gaby’s, and put it under his on the handlebar. He knew that she was crying again, although he didn’t look at her but ahead, at the road that wound like a ribbon through the cornfields. They walked in time, and in silence. He could hear the thud as their feet slapped against the earth. At what they estimated to be the halfway point, they stopped to have another cigarette. They sat on the side of the road, their backs against a tree; Gaby drew her legs up under her and wrapped the coat more tightly round her against the cold. The tips of their cigarettes glowed.
    ‘I told myself I wouldn’t smoke again,’ said Connor. ‘My father’s got lung cancer.’ He had the sensation of being slightly drunk, although he hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, and painfully awake, though he had not slept for over twenty hours. His skin tingled and his throat ached.
    Gaby turned towards him, tented by the coat, her face half hidden by her hair. She was barely more than a shape,splashed with moonlight. Connor forced himself to think of Sally, lying trustingly in his bed and waiting for him to come home. He’d ease himself in beside her and she’d open her arms and hug his chilly, tired body and murmur into his ear. He knew how lucky he was to be with Sally. He didn’t deserve her. He was twisted and thorny and full of deceit; he didn’t deserve anyone.
    ‘That’s where I was coming from,’ he said. ‘When I saw you.’
    Gaby let her cigarette fall on to the ground and put the heel of her boot on to its red eye. Say nothing else, he told himself. Stand up and start walking. Now, before it’s too late. But he didn’t move.
    ‘I thought I was dreaming you,’ he said. ‘Maybe I’m still dreaming you.’
    He, too, let drop his cigarette, watched it glimmer and die. He could hear himself breathing raggedly as she sat motionless and half invisible beside him, and he imagined what must happen next: he would push his hand into the tangle of her hair and hold her face away from his, drown in the darkness of her eyes. For a moment they would stare blindly at each other, then he would pull her urgently towards him and they would kiss each