Umbilicus: An autobiographical novel

HOMEWARD BOUND

THE DRIVE THERE SEEMED so much longer than the drive back, even though the traffic is much of a muchness. Conversation is light and breezy, made even easier by the inane chit-chat of a DJ and some perfectly generic, uninspired songs on the radio.

For all intents and purposes, today went better than either of you had probably wished for. Swapping stories, and putting all the pieces of the puzzle together. The intricacies of your lives and nuances of your parallel journeys will be revealed in time. Once you get to know each other a bit better, when you've earned one another's trust. And you know for yourself, if your fiercely private nature is anything to go by, it could take quite a while for your guard to come down, for you to really open up. You just hope she has the patience to give you the breathing space you know you'll need. It could take months, years, decades even. But for now, you are happy with all the answers you have. She has given you everything you need.

As she takes the Tollgate Bridge exit and crests the ridge, you spot a series of street pole ads for Queen at the Opera. It seems like she spotted them too.

'Do you like the theatre?' she asks, seemingly off the cuff.

'Um, ja. It depends. I enjoy ballet, especially when they've got the full-on orchestra. But I'm not a big fan of pantomimes. I think my mom has taken me to see the bloody Nutcracker, like, a hundred times.'

She laughs. 'What about musicals?' And you know she is referring to Queen at the Opera.

'Again, it depends.' God, you sound like such a snotty spoiled brat. The fact of the matter is you have never really fancied the band. Freddie Mercury died four years ago, just after you saw Superstar, and here it was already — the first of, no doubt, many tribute shows. Cover artists cashing in on an original artist's demise.

She senses you grappling to answer the question with the right pitch of diplomacy. 'Well, I was thinking of getting tickets for me and Max, and my eldest step-son and his girlfriend, to go see this new musical, Queen at the Opera, and I was wondering if you and Gray would like to join us? No pressure, though. If it's really not your thing, I totally understand.'

'No, no. That'd be awesome. Thank you so much!' As lukewarm as you feel about the prospect, you do realise this will be as good an opportunity as any for you to meet one another's significant others. Nice neutral turf, without a lot of pressure on anyone to talk too much, as you'll spend most of the night sitting quietly next to one another, watching the stage.

'Oh good! My treat. You don't have to worry about a thing. We'll come pick you up at the flat en route, and drop you off home afterwards.'

Then it dawns on you this might not be a spur of the moment invitation. She could very well have thought this whole thing through beforehand, and just been biding her time for the right gap in the conversation to ask you. To find an excuse to see you again, at least once more, before you leave the country. It's a good sign, though. She clearly likes you enough to want to introduce you to the rest of her family.

'As soon as I know what dates are available I'll call you, and you can let me know what works best with your schedule. How do I get hold of you? When you phoned me yesterday, I didn't get your number.'

'Oh, here,' you grab the little notebook and pen you keep in your bag and scribble down Gray's number which you know by heart.

'Gretchen and I don't have a phone at Moncrieff, but you can leave a message for me at Gray's place and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. His folks work from home, so there's always someone there.' You tear off the piece of paper and pop it into the cubbyhole, as you don't want to distract her while she's driving.

BY THE TIME SHE pulls up in front of your building, the traffic is quite heavy. The start of rush hour. Beth puts on her indicator and hazard lights to show the driver behind her she is looking for a parking spot, but when she realises they are all already taken, she starts getting a little flustered.

'Don't stress, I'll just jump out here.' You hate long goodbyes anyway.

'You sure?'

'Ja, no problem. Thanks so much for lunch, and a lovely afternoon. Oh, and the awesome scrapbook. I can't wait to read it!' You reach over to give her another awkward hug over the gear stick and notice tears in her eyes.

'No, thank you, Charlotte. For being everything I could've wished for. And more. This really has been one of the happiest days of my life.' She squeezes your hand just as the driver behind her hoots in annoyance.

You fling the car door open and jump out, giving him a death glare, before turning round to close the door. Bending forwards, you smile and wave goodbye at Beth through the window.

'See you soon,' she mouths through the glass, then smiles and pulls off, the little beige car merging and then disappearing into the traffic. Just as quickly as she had appeared on your doorstep a few hours earlier, she is gone again. Back to her family, back to her life.