The Way It Never Was (28 page)

EPILOGUE
- IN THE END

‘Kate. Why are you singing to yourself? It’s not particularly pleasant,’ groans Paolo, removing PJ off the counter who’s halfway through licking each biscuit in the jar.

Oblivious to how busy it is in the café, I’m in my own bubble. In fact, I’m pretty sure I made someone a coffee when they wanted a tea and a vegetarian panini with ham in it but who cares – I am just so darn happy. I didn’t know what being in my element meant until now. I know I belong doing this, no wait – I am
great
at doing this. In this space, my brain and body are sparking in co-ordination and speed. I’m turning around orders furiously, while keeping an eye on the comings and goings of the café. I’m loving every second.

There is a man at table seven moaning that he doesn’t have a laptop charger despite having been here for the best part of the day. There are people bitching about work on their phones, others sniggering about something or someone. There are those earnest creative types who insist on having business meetings in this casual environment yet still feel compelled to shush other people around them. There’s a man sitting by himself, obsessively checking his mobile yet not picking it up when it rings. There’s a crowd of Liv’s yummy mummies who have blocked the doorway with their ridiculous-sized prams, making baby-centric ever-so-slightly competitive chitchat. There’s a woman playing devil’s advocate, clearly irritating her friend who’s asking the advice.

And then there is my boyfriend of eleven months and twenty-eight days, sitting on the table by the window and grinning at me, beckoning me to go over.

‘I can’t be long, I have work to do.’ I say to Stan.

‘You call that work?’ he grins, pulling me towards him, reminding me why it’s never a good idea to mix work with pleasure.

Finally, I have answered the call to go in a direction and see where it takes me. Okay, it took ten thousand miles, old friendships, bad kisses, shaggy dog stories, cafés and a rather average typing speed to realise this. But the truth is that I am the sum of all my parts. And if I can move forward without it having to be perfect, I might just end up where I’m supposed to be – enjoying my life with a rather large cappuccino in hand.

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The Way It Never Was
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