Read The Moment You Were Gone for Free Online

other behind the protective curtain of her hair. Her arms would be round him, under the thin shirt, and his hands would be on her breasts. And then – he half shut his eyes … He put out a hand and with one finger traced the shape of her mouth. He felt her lips open and the pattern of her breathing changed. He touched her cheek, which was still damp from tears. ‘Jesus,’ he whispered, ‘but you’re lovely.’
    A shaft of light fell on them, almost dazzling them. For an instant, Connor saw Gaby’s face clearly in the headlights, like a hallucination. Then the car roared past, sending up a shower of grit, a horn blared twice, and it was gone, tail-lights disappearing round the bend.
    Connor sat up straight and blinked.
    ‘Wake-up call,’ said Gaby, lightly brushing the grass and dirt from his back. He shivered at her touch but pulled away.
    ‘Yes, sorry. We should go.’
    ‘We don’t need to, you know.’
    ‘It’s late.’
    ‘It was always late.’
    ‘I mean to say,’ he replied, very formally, ‘that I’m involved with someone.’
    ‘Oh.’
    ‘Gaby –’
    ‘You’re right. We should go.’ She stood up in one easy, fluid movement and held out her hand, hauling him to his feet.
    ‘Thanks.’
    ‘Still miles to go before we sleep,’ she said. ‘It’ll be dawn before we get there. Come on.’
    He didn’t come. Day after day, Gaby waited for him. She would wake each morning thinking, Perhaps it will be today. She would dress with care and stare anxiously at herself in the mirror, to see the face that he would see. She would pretend indifference, pretend not to start every time someone knocked at the door or the telephone rang. She would go out and steel herself not to look for him inevery face she passed. Gradually the certainty she had held wavered, became a dim hope, almost died. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter – who was he, after all? Just a stern young man who was going to be a doctor. But he’d wept in her arms and she could still feel his tears on her skin. And he’d looked at her so attentively, as if he recognized her; she had felt beautiful under his rapt gaze. He’d grazed his thumb along her lower lip, half closing his eyes, and told her she was lovely. And he’d nearly kissed her, so very nearly. Just one tantalizing second more – and how she wished now she could turn back the clock and be there again with nothing to stop them this time. She could see his serious face coming towards her, his lips parted, his eyes looking into hers, and she could feel the way she had melted, ready for him; the way she melted still, just thinking of him. In her dreams she drew him into her and wouldn’t let him go.
    Several times she made up her mind to track him down. Several times she stopped herself because she heard his voice in her head, telling her quite calmly that he was involved with another woman. There was nothing he could say that would change that.
    In the end, Gaby phoned her friend Nancy, waking her in the early hours of the morning, to pour everything out. It sounded so paltry when she said it out loud, so insignificant; she was almost embarrassed to hear herself speak. Nothing had happened between them: they had witnessed a crash together, then walked home through the night; they had hardly touched, and had not-quite kissed; he had told her he was not free and he had left her at dawn without saying anything except ‘Goodbye’.So why did she feel so jittery, so sick with desire when she remembered him, so hollow and sad when he didn’t call? Nancy listened without interrupting; Gaby could imagine her at the other end of the line, sitting up straight in bed in her stripy pyjamas, neat and calm even though it was the small hours and she’d just been woken up.
    Gaby stopped talking. For a few seconds the silence buzzed between them.
    ‘You’ve fallen in love,’ said Nancy.
    ‘I have,’ said Gaby, half giggling but feeling the tears gather. ‘Isn’t it ridiculous?