Читать книгу The Forgotten Guide to Happiness - Sophie Jenkins - Страница 13

I had reached what publishers call a plateau. I couldn’t write. My worries took up all the space. Time was going by and I still had no story.

Little did I know I was about to experience a turning point. Publishers like these – the more the better.

It was sunny, one of those autumn days when the sun is still warm on the skin but the shadows are chilly, and I thought the fresh air might stimulate my brain. I was walking on the Heath, distracted from my reflections by a parakeet screeching overhead like a haunted door in the kind of horror film that goes straight to DVD.

Parakeets are everywhere now, flying around with their long pointy tails and screaming hysterically, but really, it’s all show because they have little to scream about. Parakeets in London have no natural predators. Is it because they’re green and look too vegetarian for raptors? I walked past the boating pond. The ducks were fighting over a M&S prawn sandwich. You know that research that concluded ducks prefer kale? Not in London, they don’t. London birds prefer fast food. But only the gulls eat chilli.

My phone rang and it was Kitty, asking how the writing was coming along.

I watched the ducks moving their squabbles into the reeds. ‘I’m still at the planning stage,’ I said.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘keep at it. The reason I rang is, I got a call. Someone’s looking for you.’

‘Who?’

‘He didn’t give his name. He said he was your hero and you’d know who he was.’

I felt as if I’d been Tasered.

And then I felt a sudden rush of euphoria.

Thank you, God! ‘Did he leave a number?’

‘He did. Shall I text it to you?’

‘Yes please.’ I stood on the Heath flooded with happiness and laughing to myself. Mark was looking for me. I’d changed my phone number but he’d tracked me down. He cared! I stared at my phone and when the message pinged it was like having a winning lottery ticket in my hand.

I’d known this was going to happen!

It was preordained and I was generous in my happiness, gloating over my good fortune, smiling at people as they passed me. It felt like the glory of life had suddenly been revealed to me! I walked up Kite Hill and the grass was greener, the sky bluer, the passers-by more glamorous than they’d ever been before. I was seeing everything with new eyes.

I leant against a tree, feeling the cold bark through my jacket, filled with gratitude at my good fortune. I thought of Mark’s Trek bike fondly. What amazing good luck it was that I hadn’t sold it! I realised at that moment that I’d misunderstood my motivation. I hadn’t kept it because it was his; I’d kept it for him.

I dialled the number. The phone rang, once, twice; my heart was thundering and then: