Page 28 of The Best Ex of My Life

‘Yeah, let’s not jinx it. I’m glad Teddy’s really OK, though. I’ve been feeling bad about disappearing on her. What about Jordan? Has he been as understanding about you putting all this time into helping me?’

‘Totally. I think he finds it very attractive how amazing a friend I’m being right now.’

As lovely as he’s turning out to be, Jordan and I aren’t at that ‘spend every waking moment together stage’ just yet. We text all the time and we talk most days. We’ve met up for two more dates – a meal at my flat and a Friday night in Manchester that ended up with us joining some friends Jordan bumped into for karaoke, which was so much fun I’ve since bought myself a karaoke machine and told Teddy and Karina they need to be regularly available to come round and use it. Things are going really well, and I think it’s a sign of how good it’s been that I’ve decided to take it slowly. We could have jumped into bed when he came to my flat, but we didn’t. We spent hours on my couch, kissing and talking and taking it in turns to choose songs on Spotify. I could have let Elliot do more of this interview preparation on his own so I could spend my evenings with Jordan instead, but I haven’t, and it feels healthy that way.

This whole break in our dating lives has been good for me and Elliot too. For a while there, I was worried our friendship was going to be the casualty of setting him up with Teddy, that intertwining our love lives was bringing up the past, making everything too messy, but the last few weeks have taken us back to the way we were.

‘Well, if it will help for me to provide you an endorsement quote to attest to what an incredibly amazing friend you’ve been this last week, I’d be delighted. There’s no way I’d still be thinking I could do this if it wasn’t for you.’

‘Yes, you would. You, Elliot Drake, were born to be an assistant headteacher, but if it’s not this job, it doesn’t matter. There’ll be other jobs in other schools and you’re in the lucky position that you love the job you’re doing right now, so there’s nothing to lose.’

‘Thanks. I suppose not, but can you please pretend to be Mr Montgomery again, so we can run through some of these practice questions?’

‘Fine by me, it’s only my favourite activity.’ I make a show of coughing and when I speak again my voice is as low as I can get it. ‘Now don’t look so worried, Mr Drake, getting this job is going to be as easy as falling off a piece of cake.’

Elliot cracks up, and I don’t need the coffee anymore. Making him laugh gives me a shot of pure adrenaline.

‘This was bizarrely fun, Lizzie,’ he declares a few hours later when he’s finally feeling ready for the interview.

‘I know.’

We’ve ended up giggling way more than I thought we would at my bad impressions and the silly answers Elliot’s given to my, admittedly slightly dubious interview questions. We’ve been serious too, but even then, it’s not boring. It’s been interesting listening to Elliot’s responses and the way he always, naturally puts the needs and wellbeing of the pupils before anything else. But now he’s finally talked out, and there’s only companionable silence between us.

He stretches out on the sofa and lets his eyes close. He puts his feet on my lap, and I don’t push them away. Normally, when we sit on this sofa talking or watching a film, we keep to our own sides like there’s an invisible barrier between us that mustn’t be crossed. In his tiredness, Elliot seems to have forgotten. He looks so different now to the stressed-out version of himself who opened the door to me all those hours ago – younger, happier, the way he’s meant to look – that I don’t want to disturb him. I let him stay where he is and try to distract myself from the warm pressure of his feet pressing down on my thighs by taking the rare chance to study his face. Strands of black hair have flopped down over his forehead, and his dark eyelashes rest on smooth, untroubled skin. The bottom half of his face is covered in uncharacteristic stubble, which suits him. If Elliot is stressed or is thinking deeply about something, he has a habit of pressing his lips together, but now his lips are full, with the slightest gap between them. He seems so peaceful. I smile at him before closing my own eyes, thinking how peaceful I feel too. How nice it is to be next to each other, enjoying this calm.

We must both be more tired than we realised as we stay like that for what feels like a long time. The warm air and stillness make me sleepy, and I think I could stay here all night, but he abruptly lifts his feet off me and sits up.

‘Sorry, I should let you go. It’s late, and I’ve taken enough of your time.’

‘Oh, right, of course. I should—’

‘Yeah,’ he says, getting up from the sofa.

I follow his lead, pulling down my crumpled T-shirt as I gather up my phone and my bag. In less than a minute, I’m at his front door.

‘Goodnight, Lizzie.’

I look up at him as I pass and am surprised to see a troubled expression on his face again, but this is different from how he looked a few hours ago. He seems to be struggling to look at me and swallowing more than usual.

‘That’s OK,’ I tell him, my voice soft in case he’s feeling guilty about how much of my night he’s commandeered. ‘It’s what friends do, right?’

His eyes close for a split second as he nods his head. When they open again, something has shifted, and he’s able to look me dead in the eyes once more.

‘Yeah. It’s exactly what friends do. Goodnight.’

Getting ready for work on Monday, I’m as tense and nervous as if it was my job interview. I watch the clock all morning, wondering where Elliot will be up to, hoping he’s remembered to wear the green tie and to remind Mr Montgomery how brilliant he is with the students here, which, when it comes down to it, is the most important part of the job. When lunchtime comes round, I’m finally free to look for him, but he’s not in his classroom nor in the staffroom, and he’s not left a message on my phone to tell me how it went despite my strict instructions to do so. I’ve a full afternoon teaching, so it’s only when the bell goes for the end of the day that I’m free to go searching for him again.

This time he’s sitting at his desk, his face pale. His hair isn’t his usual deliberately messy but genuinely all over the place.

‘How did it go?’

I’ve startled him from his thoughts, and when he turns to look at me, I can see the tiredness in his eyes.

‘Not sure. John’s going to ring this evening to let me know.’

‘John? Well, that’s a good sign for a start, isn’t it? I’d never dare refer to Mr Montgomery as John. Nor did you before today.’

He gives me a weak smile. ‘I suppose. I think it went well, but I don’t know. There were two other interviewees, both more experienced, including Isabelle from the science department who’s been building up to getting this job for years now.’