Rain or Nostalgia

Rain is water that falls from the sky. It had always fascinated her. She had learnt as much about it as she could, first through meteorology, then studying different cultures’ relationship to rain. She had prayed for rain and she had danced for rain, and at one point in her life she had thought she could control it. She had learnt she was wrong, and was happier in the knowledge that the event that so fascinated her was outside her control than she had been thinking that rain was hers to summon.

She was sitting outside the coffee shop, just watching, sipping her hot coffee, which she’d asked to be put in a takeaway cup so she could sit in the rain while she drank, the lid protecting the hot liquid from the falling water. A couple of tourists looked at her curiously before hurrying into the church. She knew she must look ridiculous, sitting outside in the rain on a day that wasn’t particularly warm, but she appreciated having the time to do just that. She didn’t mind getting wet, never had, and she found that the city looked different when it rained. It cleared up, tourists and locals alike moving inside, waiting for the rain to stop, and the city seemed different when it was empty, almost haunted, as though it had been frozen in time and the people who had once inhabited it had died and never been replaced.

She finished her coffee slowly and wondered what to do next. She hadn’t had a free day, a properly free day, for years. It was a strange feeling, knowing she could just sit there all day and no one would hold it against her. She stood up and wandered to the market. She had always loved this market. Particularly the book stall, which wasn’t necessarily the most complete, but it was well curated and the owner knew what he was talking about. She stopped to have a chat with him, and was a bit taken aback when she realised he didn’t recognise her anymore. To him she was just another tourist, someone who probably wouldn’t buy anything and was more curious about his wears than likely to spend any money. For a second this made her sad. She had forgotten how much she had enjoyed belonging to this city that once belonged to her. She had only lived there for a few years, but she had become part of the place, someone who was likely to be seen around the river, or cycling to and from her department, or at dinner in hall a few times per month. But she had left.

Leaving had been hard. The same way it had happened with London, at some point, she had fallen in love with the place, with its pace, with its people, and now it seemed foreign. At some point during her stay in the city she had started to belong there, and that belonging had disappeared. Not as soon as she’d left. For a while, she’d had friends in Cambridge, places to stay, people to see. But slowly, friends had become more distant or left, and the city had changed without changing. Her favourite coffee place had closed, her favourite pub had redecorated and lost its charm, and the place where she was once felt completely at home, her department, where she’d spent countless evenings late into the night, had been populated by strangers. But that was OK. She had learnt to understand that home is simply a conceit, any place can be home if you stay there long enough, and that any place can stop being home when you don’t return. She’d called 7 different cities home in her lifetime, and she hoped to find new places to call home in the future. But it always felt strange going back to somewhere that had been home and realising that it wasn’t anymore.

She left the book stalls and headed towards King’s Parade, looking around. It was then that, across the road, she saw the person she had least expected to see still in the city. She stared wide eyed for a couple of seconds, and then said their name.

-Andrew!

He jerked his head towards her, surprised to hear her voice.

-Barbara! What are you doing here?
-I could ask you the same thing- she said with a bright smile, crossing the street towards him.

He was a bit heavier, perhaps had lost some hair, but his blue eyes were as bright as ever and he had a warm smile. They hugged tightly.

-I thought you had moved to France- she said.

-I thought you had moved to the US- he teased.

She nodded.

-Yes, I live in Boston now. Came for a conference in London and couldn’t resist dropping by. What brings you to the city?

-I’m visiting Mark and Annie. They had a baby a couple of months ago. Have you seen them?

-Oh wow, I had no idea! I lost touch after I left. Saw Annie a few times in the US, but haven’t really been in touch for… two or three years now.

She looked down, avoiding his look. She was still embarrassed to think about why she had lost touch with them.

-Well, they’re doing great. Hey, let’s grab a coffee, get out of the rain.

-Sure!

They headed towards the coffeeshop in the market. She ordered her usual cappuccino, he ordered a black coffee. They sat down on the top floor, and for a couple of minutes just sat in silence sipping their coffee. They had never been that close, just acquaintances that happen to get on really well, and she wondered how they had ended up going for coffee. Other than mutual friends, they didn’t have much to talk about.

-So, are you in France?- she asked finally.

-Yes, we live in a small town, just outside Paris.

-How’s Sonja? Any kids?

-She’s great. Loves living in France, likes it more than I do I think. And we have two kids, a boy and a girl. Lisa’s seven and Matt is nine. Here.

He showed her a picture on his phone. The girl had hair so blond it looked white, and the boy had inherited his mum’s dark hair and bright green eyes. She knew already, of course, she’d seen pictures on Facebook, but it felt like asking was the nice thing to do. They were really gorgeous children, the sort you might see in adverts, and it was strange to be able to recognise their parents in them so easily.

-They’re beautiful.

-Two little monsters to tell you the truth. I don’t know how they have so much energy.

-That’s rich coming from you.

He laughed.

-And how have you been? Husband, kids? Last I heard from you was from Dave, but he only said you’d gond stateside.

She laughed, with a point of sadness that she was determined not to let through.

-I… well, I was with someone for around five years. He died a couple of years ago. That was rough. And I’ve been single since. Finding it harder and harder to date to be completely honest.

He looked shocked, as though he didn’t quite know how to respond.

-I’m really sorry.

She smiled at him.

-Yeah… Sorry, I don’t know how to tell people without making them uncomfortable. It was hard, but I got through it. No point in dwelling in the past. Anyway, it’s good to see from you! You’re like, the last person I expected to see here.

He looked surprised.

-Why?

She shrugged.

-I don’t know. I guess, when we lived here it seemed like this was home for you, that you’d never going leave, and then you did leave so… it didn’t occur to me that you’d be back.

He nodded.

-Anyways. What are you up to nowadays? Did you say you were at a conference? Still in science then?

She nodded.

-I remember you always saying you’d drop out.

It was a statement, almost a reproach.

-Well, I’m not so good on going through with things.

Her tone had been harsher than she’d intended.

-It wasn’t a criticism- he said softly.

She nodded.

She had forgotten how difficult it had become to be herself back then, and she was surprised at how easy it was to fall back into old patterns.

-Yeah, I know. Sorry about that. Didn’t realise I was still touchy about the whole thing.

Outside it was beginning to get dark.

-I should get going- he said. –Are you staying in the city for the weekend? I was planning on meeting up with Susie and Liz, have a pint, maybe go punting on Sunday if the weather changes.

She smiled. She'd rather go punting if the weather didn't change. After all, she loved the rain.