Something to tell you

He pulled another thread from the unravelling sleeve of his sweater. Jess had never been good at being on time but even twenty minutes was a stretch for her. Taking another sip of the rapidly cooling coffee, he reread her message announcing she was on her way. The larvae of worry squirmed in his stomach. Nothing quelled or quietened the scenarios playing through his head of her possible reactions. Would she cry or shout at him or just go silent? He didn't know which he'd rather have, probably anger. It was easier to read and deal with than tears.

“Tim! I am so sorry I'm late, much longer walk than I anticipated!” Jess jogged up the steps to the patio of the café, layered up in autumnal coloured scarf and hat, which all blended together with her russet hair and rosy cold-nipped cheeks. She took a seat on the metal chair opposite him, smiling apologetically. All Tim managed was a weak smile and half glance at her face.

“Don’t worry about it, it happens to the best of us. Don’t you want to order a coffee or something?” He knew he was delaying the inevitable blow of the news by engaging in this small talk, sending her away to get a hot drink to give him more time to still his racing thoughts and gather the clarity he needed to relay the message he'd brought her out here to deliver.

“Oh sure, you want me to get you a refill while I'm in? Again, I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.” Jess asked, getting up and fishing a purse out of her messenger bag. 

“Uh, sure. Actually yeah, that'd be nice. Never got into the iced coffee trend.” Tim laughed nervously, inwardly cringing at his attempt at humour. Jokes and nerves never mix well.

Jess grinned at him.

“Americano with one sugar?” 

A smile broke onto his face. She knew his order off by heart. The warmth he felt was short lived; the cloud of the inevitable news about to be delivered darkened the momentary joy. After what he was going to say, there'd be no need to remember that specific order. Maybe she'd hold onto it for years, come back to this same café like a widow visiting a grave just to relive the past. Or maybe it would become useless scrap, pushed out of her memory by the bustle of university and the new men in her life. He hastily pulled out his phone and scanned over the countless bullet points he’d written about how to explain this to her, how to make sure he said what he needed, not just blurt out some ad-lib messy explanation. He’d put more organisation into this than he did into half his essays.

Jess returned with the drinks, just as bright sunshine broke out from behind mottled clouds, catching the rusty leaves of the beech tree in the park opposite. Americano with one sugar for him and a salted caramel latte for her. Like always. This could be any other routine post-lecture coffee date on a Wednesday morning but it was the last. Jess was blissfully unaware as she sipped and clasped her hands around the war mug.

“So, what's the news with you then?” She asked, like she did every week. Tim ‘s mouth was dry and stale.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, but you know, I've been delaying it like I do with everything-” Tim started, nails digging into the rough denim of his jeans. He willed himself to just spit it out like how he rehearsed. 

“Jess!” 

Two of her classmates were walking over, folders clutched in their arms, equally swaddled in hats and scarves. He recognised them; Caoimhe and Esme, Jess’s fellow writing society members. Irritation swelled inside him, making his coiled nerves knot themselves tighter. 

He tuned in and out of the radio chatter of their conversation, which mostly revolved around some of the books on their required reading and that month’s publication of the poetry magazine they had all submitted pieces for. Jess hastily tried to break their talk off multiple times only for another point to be brought up. She glanced sympathetically at Tim and gave an awkward smile. 

“Anyway, see you at the seminar tomorrow!” Esme finally concluded. Caoimhe nodded, waving to Jess as they departed, still animatedly chatting as they made their way off to the little sushi place they’d raved about to countless times.

“Sorry about that, those two can talk for hours. Hard to escape the grasp of them honestly.” Jess said sheepishly. Tim shook his head, indicating that it didn't bother him (a total lie). He'd lost his flow. Now had to rile himself up once again to get the words from his scrambled mind out into the crisp air.

“Don’t worry about it. It was nice of them to say hello.” He managed, building back up to the delivery of the news. It had to be said, he couldn't just ghost her.

“Anyway, like I had said before, there's something important I have to talk to you about.” Good, he told himself, you’ve set it up now so tell her. “So, I’m going to move ba-”

Japanese pop music exploded from Jess’ bag. She fished the aggressively vibrating phone out.

“Shit, sorry. Can I take this? The doctor’s calling with my blood test results.” 

Jess had been having problems with being light headed, fatigued and fainting as of recently. She’d collapsed on him once after walking up a flight of stairs. Batting away the annoyance, he gave a nod. Jess answered the phone, mouthing a ‘thank you’ at him.

The call didn't last too long, just over seven minutes. He’d timed it, glancing as subtly as possible at his watch before checking the bullet pointed list again. This time for sure, he would get it out. No time for soft introductions; the pain was inevitable so he needed to get on with it.

“God, I’m so sorry again. Just isn't my day today. I’m all ears now. You said you had something important to tell me?” Her attention was back on him, phone silenced. 

Finally, he thought, get this over and done with.

“Yeah, about that. So I am going back to my parents. In Reading.'' The pressure which had been growing cracked the dam of anxiety holding those first vital words back. Now the tide was coming.

“For winter break? I’ll miss you a lot. I was planning on taking you to the Christmas Market.” Her eyes looked anywhere but his face, fingers fiddling with a loose thread on her fingerless gloves. Tim felt the guilt rising like bile up inside him. She didn't know that what was coming next was much worse.

“No, I'm heading back there perma-” 

Rain spattered onto the metal table. Then it was all around them, a hail of bullets from above. Jess gasped, jumping up quickly, hands over her head. Tim bolted up and followed her lead into the café, angry at the weather for hindering the little progress he'd only just made.

It was stuffy inside, noisy with the shriek of the coffee machine working double time to pump out the endless orders of lattes, Americanos and espressos from the various students crowded inside. Tim prayed to whatever god there may be that Jess wouldn’t have a loud reaction; the many pairs of eyes to witness a potential fight or melt down made the situation far, far worse than it would be in seclusion. He cursed the temperamental nature of Northern Irish weather. This was just going beyond ‘not being his day’ to some sort of sign from the universe that this was a terrible idea and it wasn't going to let him do it.

Few seats were left, leaving the pair of them perched on an inadequately small table by the window, knees touching and shoulders brushing. This, above all else, made Tim's melting pot of nerves boil, fuelled by a steading glow of aggravation at the constant interruptions. But he knew now he'd say it, even just to get the words out before yet another incident occurred to delay the relaying of the speech he had been rehearsing the past week.

“So, as I was saying, I’m heading back home in two weeks but i’m not going to be co-” This time it was the high pitched squeal of the espresso machine which cut him off.

But that was the last straw.

“Oh for the love of God, I'm leaving!” He exclaimed, much more harshly than he anticipated, making Jess look at him, wide eyed. Grabbing his damp jacket from the back of the chair, he began to march out, not giving two hoots about the rain still lashing down outside.

“Wait, already? We’ve only just sat down-” Jess started, half hovering out of her chair. Tim shook his head at her.

“No, I'm leaving Belfast. For good. I’m moving back to my parents and transferring to a Uni over there. That's what I've been trying to tell you this entire time but I kept getting bloody interrupted.” A dozen heads turned to look at him, observing the taboo public spectacle of shouting in a place where conversations are meant to be undetectable by those not part of them.

Jess sat back down, her eyes still locked on him. She then stared at her hands slack in her lap. Tim bundled himself into his jacket, thoroughly fed up with the whole affair but knowing deep down that he was going to be contemplating this moment the entire plane journey home. For now he just wanted away. He didn't want to see the impact of his words.

“So this means…”Jess began, her voice barely above a mutter.

“It means ‘goodbye’, Jess. I’m sorry I had to tell you this way.” Tim concluded, fingers already wrapped around the door handle. Before she could return with another comment, he was outside, trudging away from the cosy interior. The rain pelted his face. He wouldn't miss this city or its awful weather anyway, he thought. But in his heart of hearts, he knew there'd always be a part of Belfast he'd miss. And that part was watching him leaving through a steamed up window, her ginger hair a blurry halo around her face.