The dream always started the same way: she was searching for something. She never knew what she was looking for, but the sense of urgency about finding it would not let her stop. Once she found herself in the maelstrom of a crowd, looking at people's feet until two clogs appeared. Another time desert dunes undulated before her eyes until she spotted an oasis beyond the mirage. Now she was looking at hats at the races: some were garish, others demure. The dull clip of hooves on the grass grew louder in her head and when she thought she might scream, she saw him, in his trilby, holding a single white rose.
She had not thought about him in years. They went their separate ways and, although she missed him, she pushed him out of her mind by occupying herself with other activities. Keep busy, that was her motto. It took only a glimpse, less than a second in her imagination, to crack the dam of her resolve. She sat up in bed and dabbed her face with the duvet.
Had enough time passed? Her phone flashed notifications at her. She ignored them and sent the message before her courage fled. There were two hours to kill before her alarm. And countless hours until he replied. Waiting was not her strong suit. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to blot out the potential consequences of her bravado.
The phone shuddered on the nightstand.
How about coffee tomorrow... The usual place? I think it's still there.
She smudged the screen as she tried to remove the evidence of her relief.
Four o'clock. I'll be there.
The usual place had been turned into a kid's playground. She stared at the spot where they used to sit, by the window, nursing coffee and conversation. His aftershave tapped her on the shoulder.
"You made it."
"Looks like our hangout didn't."
"There are some benches over there, in the shade."
"Good plan. You save me a seat and I'll get a couple of lattes."
It was so natural. She forgot what that felt like. An ache behind her ribs turned into a dead weight that made her flop onto the bench.
"Extra foam, no sugar. Just the way you like it."
She swallowed and smiled, trying to dam her tears.
"How have you been?" He perched next to her. "It was so unexpected to hear from you."
Her answer sounded like a lie to her ears. He grinned as though he knew. She took a deep breath and tried again.
"I had a dream about you. Call me mad, but I think it was a message from my subconscious telling me I had to see you again."
He bumped his Styrofoam cup against hers. "Cheers. To us." He stared across the park at the gaggle of toddlers scrambling over the jungle gym and shrieking for no apparent reason.
"You look the same."
For a moment she thought it was directed at his coffee.
"You look happy." She meant it.
"I wasn't always. But now that I've changed jobs, things are much better. I feel like I reclaimed the parts of my soul that were curling at the edges."
Her laugh was bitter. "I was so upset with you for leaving. But, seeing you now, I know you did the right thing." She blew the foam. "It's given me the courage to think about doing the same."
His eyes lit up. "That's wonderful. Tell me more."
A mother, nappy bag in tow, perched next to him on the bench, forcing them closer. When her cellphone rang, she conducted a broadcast of her life. They dropped their voices to cling to the intimacy of the moment. When the call ended, the mother, at a loss for people to call, eavesdropped.
"I think you left at exactly the right time. Things really began to go downhill for us. The morale is rock bottom and I don't think it will get better."
"I'll be honest, I am thanking my lucky stars. Now tell me more about your plans."
"It's quite a departure from what I am used to. I worry that I will go from the frying pan into the fire."
"That may be. But you have to follow the advice of the character in my favourite movie... Chief and Commander..."
She laughed. "You mean Master and Commander."
"Your memory was always better than mine. Can you remember the advice?"
"Give me a refresher."
"He said that we should always choose the lesser of the two evils."
"That's a good way of looking at it."
He was so close that she could see the hairs on his ears and the rash he got from shaving his neck. She looked away. The intimacy of the moment made her feel naked. She was saved by the mother's shout as one of her children slipped off the monkey bars. If only she could wail with the same abandon.
"You know, you are one of the few people with whom I can sit and say nothing, but feel as though we are analysing the compounds of the stars."
She nodded. "Tell me about your wife, your children, your grandson."
He beamed and relayed their stories. His phone sounded in his breast pocket.
"Ah, that's her. She's just landed from London. I have to dash if I am to fetch her on time."
"Of course. It was good to see you. Wonderful to see you. You look so happy, so at peace. I'm glad. I'm so glad we got to chat. It's been so long."
He nodded. "Let me know how your next adventure goes."
"Will do." A tear rimmed her eye. "Goodbye."
She watched him drive away but could not bring herself to wave.
The park was empty. The mother trundled her children and nappy bag in the direction of an estate car. The swings swayed and the see-saw bobbed in the breeze. It was a metaphor for her state: in its absence, the agents of happiness waited to fulfil their purpose.
"This is my favourite time of day."
She did not notice him sitting beside her.
"Sorry?"
"When it's quiet and the kids have gone. Gives you time to think."
She smiled.
"I hope I'm not intruding. You look like the type of person who wouldn't mind sharing the silence with me." When she didn't answer, "I'm Joe."
"Hannah." Her tears plopped into her empty coffee cup.
"You should choose a different name if that one makes you sad. It's totally legal, you know."
She laughed, which made her cry harder.
"Ok, not saying anything else that's funny." He cleared his throat. "Hannah, watch the sunset with me?"
She nodded. He looked relieved. If this counted as an adventure, she thought, then she would be ok. Ok without him.
"Joe, do you come here often?"
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