دیدار

Chapter eight

The meeting

After I got his letter, I knew that I was falling in love with George. But how could I love him? I lived with Tom. I was a guard. George was an asylum seeker. I knew we couldn’t be together. I had to forget about George.

I read his letter many times, but I didn’t write back. I wanted to write. But what could I say?

A week later, I was at the supermarket when I got a text message on my phone.

I’m in Greenwich. Can I see you? George.

George was here! This time I replied without thinking. Today 3 p.m, the book shop Coffee. Nancy

I knew it was wrong to meet George without telling Tom. I knew it was wrong to love him. But I couldn’t stop myself.

At three o’clock I was sitting in the bookshop cafe. ‘Nancy.’

I looked up.

‘George,’ I said.

He looked tired. ‘How did you get here’ I asked.

‘I came by bus. I wanted to see you again, Nancy.’

He looked at me for a long time.

‘You’re different without your uniform,’ he said.

‘Am I?’ I didn’t know what else to say.

‘You look nice,’ he said.

I smiled.

‘Are you working’ I asked him.

‘Not yet. I get a little money but not much. I want to get a camera and take photos. I need to work.’

‘I’d like to see your photos,’ I said.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I think you will understand them. They are photos that show what’s really happening to people.’

We talked for a long time. He told me about his life in East London. I told him a little about my life.

Then he said, ‘What’s the time? I have to be back by half past five.’

I was wearing my gold watch. I looked at it.

‘It’s half past four.’

‘That’s a nice watch.’

‘Yes,’ I said, but I went red.

Did George think I was very rich?

‘Did someone buy it for you?’

‘It was Tom,’ I said quietly.

‘Who is Tom’ he asked.

‘Tom is the man I live with. But–’ I stopped. I wanted to tell George that I didn’t love Tom anymore. I knew I was falling in love with him. But I didn’t know what to say. Then George said it for me.

‘Nancy,’ he said. ‘I feel there is something happening between us.’

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘I need to know, do you give your phone number to all the asylum seekers?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘Just you, George.’

It was then he kissed me.

It was then I knew I was leaving Tom.