‘You have two choices,’ he says. ‘You can reply, saying, ‘Sup m8 let’s go for drink/shag’.’
‘Or delete his number, unfriend him and move on.’
Instead I take to haunting his profile. I attend three events in as many months just because Facebook says he’s ‘Attending’. For the third of these I shell out actual money. It’s a lecture on Henry James. I didn’t attend lectures at uni when they were free. For this one I both buy a ticket and do preparatory reading.
The Portrait of a Lady – aside from being brilliant – is the story of a young American woman who comes to Europe and falls for the wrong man. I don’t need to point out the irony.
‘I might just suggest meeting up,’ I say to Beatrice, after another no-show.
She agrees it would be better than what I’m doing.
‘But,’ she goes on, ‘what do you want from seeing him?’
That’s the million dollar question and I don’t have an answer, not a real one.
‘Closure I guess, whatever that is.’