I guess the sad thing for me, or maybe in hindsight the best thing, was just as I was realising the depth of my feelings for Jake, he was gone.
One thing I do find amusing is knowing how Jake is with women nowadays, he’s basically a slut, but when he was younger he was never interested in girls.
Back then, we were all about the music. I guess it was what bound us together. Well that and the other stuff. The bad stuff in Jake’s life.
Jake was always heavily into music, as was I, thanks to my dad.
My Dad used to be a guitarist in a small time rock band back in the eighties called The Rifts.
I was spoon fed music. And my dad fed it to Jake too. I think to my dad, Jake was the son he never had.
My life was a little different than other kids, when their parents were teaching them to sing Twinkle, Twinkle, my dad was teaching me the lyrics to (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction.
I was brought up listening to the likes of The Rolling Stones, Dire Straits, The Doors, Johnny Cash, Fleetwood Mac, and the Eagles, to name a few.
My Mum tried to balance it out, bless her, but my dad lives and breathes music, and he is such a force in my life she never stood a chance. I love my mum of course, but I absolutely adore my dad.
So because of my differences, and there were plenty of them believe me, I never really fit in with any of the kids at school, neither did Jake.
We were our own island, and when he left, I was left adrift for a long time.
My dad taught me how to play the piano, he tried with the guitar but I could never get the hang of it. Jake on the other hand was an absolute natural on the guitar. My dad gave him his own first six-string when he was seven. He always did say Jake was a born musician, so I guess it’s no surprise to him Jake is as successful as he is.
My dad is really proud of Jake’s career.
He’s always said I should get in touch with him, but I brushed it off, so there is no way I’m calling dad to tell him I’m seeing Jake tomorrow. He’d probably try and come with me.
It’s going to be surreal seeing Jake after all this time.
I click off the picture and open another, a close up of his face. I stare at the picture, my eyes tracing the scar on his chin, the one which stretches along his jawline, it’s not as noticeable as it used to be, maybe he covers it with makeup nowadays.
I know more about Jake than anyone. I know about a part of his past he’s managed to keep hidden away from the rest of the world.
Then a thought sweeps my mind. Maybe he won’t want to see me. Maybe he feels like he left behind the life he had here, and that’s why he dropped contact with me.
Maybe me, home, reminds him of a time he’d rather forget.
Jake had a pretty rough time growing up, which lead to his dad Paul going to prison when Jake was nine. Susie, Jake’s mum, remarried a few years later to lovely man called Dale. He was an architect brought over from the firm’s office in New York to work on a long term project in Manchester where we lived. Then when Jake was fourteen, Dale was offered a promotion back in their New York office and he took it.
Six weeks later Jake was gone. And my heart was left broken.
With a resigned sigh, I click off Google and Jake disappears from my screen.
I force myself to open my Word document to get the questions compiled for tomorrow before I go to dinner with Will tonight.
I don’t go to interviews unprepared. Especially if said interview is with my old best friend and one time love of my life.
Chapter Two
I arrive home from work, after somehow managing to compile a list of suitable questions for the interview with Jake tomorrow, drop my handbag on our coffee table, sling my jacket on the arm of the sofa and kick my shoes off.
Simone is in the kitchen. We share a modest two bedroom converted ground floor flat in Camden, which we rent from Simone’s cousin who is a property developer. Our rent is really reasonable as Marc and Simone are close. We would never have been able to afford it otherwise.
I wander in to the sound of the kettle boiling.
“Want one?” she asks holding up the coffee jar.
“I’d love one, thanks.”
I get the biscuits out of the cupboard, then Simone hands me my coffee, and with the biscuits under my arm, I follow her back through into our small living room.
I sit next to her on the sofa, putting the pack of biscuits between us.
“So how’s your day been?” I ask, as I munch on a biscuit.
This is my opener to telling her about Jake.
‘How’s your day been Simone? … Mine you ask? Well, tomorrow morning I’m going to be interviewing Jake Wethers.’ – cue lots of screaming from Simone and maybe a little from me.
“Good,” she beams, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear. “In fact, it was actually great.” She turns to face me, tucking her legs under her bum. “We landed Penners.”
“You did?”
“We did! And then afterwards Daniel took me into his office to tell me they’re promoting me to senior Ad Exec!”
“Argghhh!” I scream.