27 August 2023

Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Feeling Blue (aka Jane & Peter)

(Josie Sayz: A new chapter to the ‘Jane Chronicles’. My ongoing series, loosely based on Peter Pan and his friendship with Jane. None of the characters, names and places associated with Peter Pan belong to me. They are all copyrighted to The Great Ormond Street Hospital  and/or Disney. Sorry, again, for Blogger’s weird line spacing.)

 

Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Feeling Blue
(aka Jane & Peter)

 

The electronic hum that had filled the office for the past nine hours wound down, as everyone switched off their PCs for the evening. Looping her messenger bag over her shoulder, Jane pulled her mobile phone out of her bag and turned it on. “Jane, do you want a lift home?” asked Penny, as they walked towards the office’s back door. “My husband’s picking me up. We can drive by yours.”

“It’s okay Penny. Thank you anyway,” Jane replied, with a bright smile.

“You never accept lifts from anyone,” sighed Penny.

“I’m sorry,” Jane muttered, with a shrug. “I can get places by myself. I don’t want to be relying on anyone, and I don’t need to. It’s fine, really,” she added, seeing Penny was about to interrupt her.

“Okay,” sighed Penny, with defeat. “If you’re sure.” As they opened the back door, a navy four-by-four pulled up, beside them.

“Take care,” Jane sang, with a beaming smile, as she waved to Penny and her husband, in the driver’s seat.

 

*

 

Jane’s heels clopped down the supermarket aisle. Bodies bustled about, ramming their trolleys into each other, in desperate attempts to grab their groceries before anyone else. Oblivious to the world around her, Jane’s mind swirled with all of the creative story ideas and poems that she had been wanting to work on all day, but needed to suppress, while she was at work. However, now, with a shopping basket looped over her left arm, Jane’s thoughts wandered from her idea of collecting a bunch of fruits of unusual colours and magical properties, to two women sneaking around, trying to solve the mystery of a werewolf terrorising a town, to the lyrics of an autumn breakup song she was desperate to write. As she dropped a packet of parsley into her basket, Jane glanced down at her shopping list, in her left hand, while she swung her mobile phone in right hand, as she walked into the next aisle. The usual loud chatter and swaying of bodies, trolleys and baskets that made Jane’s chest tighten, went by unnoticed, as she zoned out, in her own little bubble. Having collected a block of cheese and a small bottle of milk, Jane began humming to herself, as she turned down the next aisle. She glanced down at her list, scribbled on a tiny pastel yellow sticky note, as she weaved in and out of the other customers and staff members, humming to herself all the while. A frown furrowed her brow, as she glanced across the shelves. Everything had moved. Jane exhaled a sigh, tilting her head to the right, as she flickered her eyes across the shelves.

“Walking alone, as I feel a breeze, I tug at my jacket and I kick at some leaves,” Jane sang in a soft whisper to herself, as she scooped up two tins of soup and clattered them into her basket. Bouncing up onto her toes, she spun to her left. Thud. Jane bashed into someone. Her eyes widened, as she let out a gasp. “I am so sorry,” she blurted out.

“No worries,” chuckled a man, in a white shirt, black tie and dark, curly hair, tied back in a bun. “And nice singing, by the way,” he told her, with a soft smile.

“Oh, erm,” she stuttered, feeling her cheeks burn at his compliment. Her lips parted, as she stared into his dark brown eyes, with green flecks. A smirk prodded into the man’s cheeks, as her blushing face gazed at him. “I’m sorry,” Jane murmured, as her heart raced. “You remind me of someone,” she confessed, as thoughts of Peter Pan floated to the surface of her mind. Poking his smile deeper into the left corner of his mouth, the man averted his eyes to the floor.

“I hope that’s a good thing,” he replied, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” she replied, with a small smile. Beeping rang out, as a light flashed from the phone clipped to the man’s trouser pocket.

“Duty calls,” he sang, rolling his eyes, as he unclipped the phone.

“Sorry again for bumping into you,” Jane called, before her heels continued their clip-clop around the store.

Turning down the next aisle, Jane felt her heart race. Her cheeks tingled, as the blood rushed to her face. Pinching her lips in, Jane giggled to herself, as her mind replayed the encounter. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. ‘Why can I feel things for complete strangers?’ she sighed with frustration, as her shoulders deflated. ‘Why couldn’t I feel this with Robert?’ Allowing herself a slow inhale, Jane pushed thoughts of her recent breakup to the back of her mind, and allowed herself to be swept up with the bubble of butterflies that flooded her insides, from her interaction with the Peter Pan look alike.

With her spine straightened once more, and her head high, Jane returned to her grocery shopping. Looking down the confectionary aisle, Jane treated herself to a her favourite bar of chocolate and a packet of milk bottle sweets. ‘The bonus to being single,’ Jane grinned, as she dropped the sweets into her basket. ‘The downside to dating a chef, is you don’t get to eat junk food. Now I can eat whatever I want, and if I want to eat chocolate and sweets, I will. No one can stop me.’ A snort of air puffed out of Jane’s nose, pleased with herself for her snacking choices.

Vibration buzzed in her hand. Her mum’s name illuminated her phone, accompanied by a green circle, to accept the call and a red one to decline. “Hello?” answered Jane, dropping her attention to the list in her left hand.

“Hello, where are you?” asked her mum.

“I’ve just gone food shopping on my way home from work. I’m in Mullins’,” replied Jane. “I’ve just bumped into someone, literally, who looked just like Peter,” she said with bright eyes, as her beaming grin returned.

“Oh dear,” gasped her mum.

“It was okay. He was nice,” she said, with a dreamy sigh.

“Are you sure it wasn’t Peter?” her mum asked. “I know you,” she added, in an irate tone.

“Don’t be silly,” Jane told her, with a nervous laugh. “You know Peter works for Hook’s Inc.”

“Oh, you meant someone who works there?” her mum said, with a sigh of relief.

“Well, I think so,” Jane replied, as her brow puckered. “He had the store phone clipped onto his pocket, but he was in a shirt, so maybe he’s a manager or something,” she added, with a shrug. Letting out a hum, Jane turned on her heels and wandered back down the aisle, to the biscuit section.

“Did you see his name badge?” asked her mum.

“No,” Jane sighed, as her brows slanted together.

“No? You always notice things like that,” exclaimed her mum. “You’re always telling me off for not looking.”

“I was too busy worrying if I had killed him with my basket,” Jane cried. “He might not have had one, anyway,” she said, with a sigh.

Replaying the moment over in her mind, Jane tried to remember if she had seen a name badge. Her heart fluttered, as his gentle smile appeared in her mind. How his ears had turned a deep scarlet, when he asked her if it was a good thing that he reminded her of someone. ‘It’s a very good thing,’ Jane told herself, as her smile began to ache her cheeks. She sensed her cheeks burning and her insides swirled, as she recalled the sensation she felt, as she stared into his eyes. Her vision blurred. Thoughts of Peter fluttered to the front of her mind. Her smile stretched across her face. A dreamy sigh escaped her, as she shuddered out of her daydream. “Are you on your way home?” Jane asked her mum, having not listened to a word her mum had said since she began daydreaming.

“Yes, I’m at that road, with the double post-box,” her mum replied.

“Will you come into Mullins’ on your way past, and look for the man who looks just like Peter, but with long hair, tied up?” Jane asked.

“Okay,” her mum chuckled. “I feel like I’m playing cupid.”

“Don’t speak to him!” Jane exclaimed, as a sense of panic jolted her heart out of her ribcage and caused her intestines to knot. “Just see if he has a name badge.”

“Okay,” sang her mum, chuckling to herself all the while.

 

*

 

Once Jane had got home and put her groceries away, she plodded up the stairs, to her bedroom. She had moved back home, with her mum, brother and his current, new girlfriend three months ago, back into the box room, that she had grown to hate. With a singe mattress on the floor, and her belongings remained in cardboard boxes, piled up at the bottom of the mattress, on top of and underneath her desk.  With an exasperated sigh, Jane dropped her bag onto the only piece of floor space, beside the pillow of her mattress and clambered onto her make-do bed.

As Jane dropped down on the edge of her mattress, her phone vibrated. It was her mum calling her back. Jane’s eyes lit up, as she accepted the call. “Hello?” she answered.

“Jane, I’m in Mullins’, are you sure it isn’t Pete?” her mum asked, as deep lines formed on her forehead.

“Why would Peter be working in a supermarket, if he works at Hooks Inc.?” asked Jane. “Why, did you see him?”

“Yes, and I’m pretty sure it is Peter Pan,” her mum replied, in a firm tone.

“He can’t be. He was nice to me. Peter hates me,” Jane reminded her. “Besides,” she added, with a sad sigh. “It’s not like I’m ever going to see him again.”

“You never know,” her mum said in a sing-song voice. “Maybe he’ll be there the same time next week.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jane muttered, as she flopped back onto her bed. “I’m going to be alone forever.”

 

*

 

A week passed by. Having finished work for the day, Jane’s shoulders deflated, and she let out an exasperated sigh, as she stepped outside into a downpour of rain. She flicked open her umbrella, to keep herself dry and hunched her shoulders. As she trudged towards the supermarket, to do her weekly shopping, the creative spark that Jane found herself in last week had fizzled out. Keeping her head down, her heels clopped along the street, flicking splashes up her legs, from the puddles.

As Jane entered her local supermarket, Mullins, to do her weekly shop, she looped a shopping basket over her arm and dumped her sopping umbrella inside it. Looking ahead, down the first aisle, her eyes widened. The feeling of hands squeezing tight over her chest overwhelmed her. Stiffening her shoulders, Jane lowered her head and kept eye contact with the floor, as she manoeuvred in and out of the other customers in the store.

Having gathered a collection of rosy, red apples, a packet of tortilla wraps, spring greens and a packet of vegetarian ham, Jane let out a long breath as she turned down the tinned food aisle. She flickered a glance up the aisle, but seeing various bodies scattered around, she darted her vision back to the ground. As she shuffled forwards, a pair of shoes appeared in front of her. “Hi, I was hoping I might bump into you again,” came a cheery, male voice. Jane looked up. Her heart leapt. It was him. Her eyes widened. It was the man who she had bumped into last week. The Peter Pan look alike. A breathy gasp escaped her, as Jane curled a hand to her mouth. “Well, not so literally this time,” he added, with a sheepish smile.

“Hi,” Jane said, with a giggled, feeling the heat burn bright in the apples of her cheeks.

“I’m not often local, but I changed routes this week to be here at the same time I was last week, in hopes of catching you again,” he told her. Pinching her lips in, Jane felt her blush brighten. “Say, erm, would you like to go for a drink sometime?” he asked, running a hand across the back of his neck. Blood flushed to the apples of his cheeks, as he beamed at her.

“Really?” Jane breathed, flickering her eyelashes.

“Yes really,” he said, with a chuckle.

“I, erm, yes,” she replied, with a nervous giggle.

“Can I give you my number?” he asked, looking at the phone in her hand. Jane’s lips parted, as she nodded. Tapping the screen of her phone, Jane selected a new contact and handed her phone over to the Peter Pan lookalike. As he tapped his finger into her phone’s screen, Jane felt her cheeks burning and she smiled back at him. The explosion of butterflies that she had felt last week returned. Her heart raced. Tingling danced at the base of her spine.

“There you go,” he sang, passing Jane her phone back.

“Thanks,” she smiled. Pinching her lips in, Jane found herself gazing into his deep brown eyes, with green flecks. His ears turned a deep scarlet, as he stared back into her pastel blue eyes.

Beeping sounded, as the phone clipped to his pocket rang out. “Sorry,” he muttered, slanting his eyebrows upwards. “I’m acting GSM again. Text me, if you fancy going for that drink, okay?”

“Okay,” she smiled, as he answered the phone. “Bye,” she whispered and gave him a small wave.

 

*

 

Later that evening, Jane found herself staring at her mobile phone’s screen. She had already typed and deleted several messages, intended for the man that she had met in the Mullins supermarket last week. The butterflies that had spiralled in her stomach, when they had spoken earlier that afternoon, had simmered to a deep frustration, as Jane retyped another text message. ‘I can’t do this,’ she sighed to herself, with frustration. ‘Why is typing one message to this man so hard?’

Sighing again, Jane flopped down on her bed. ‘He’s probably nothing like Peter,’ she told herself. ‘He’s probably rude, short tempered and has the emotional range of a teaspoon,’ she decided, in attempts to talk herself out of a potential date. She lay staring at the ceiling for some time, as the knots in her intestines tightened. Digging her elbows into her duvet, Jane pushed herself up to sit. Her mind wandered back to their first encounter and the flutter of butterflies returned. ‘I haven’t felt anything like that since I was with Peter,’ she told herself, with a dreamy hum. ‘But is it just because he reminds me of Peter Pan? I know nothing about him, not even his name. Ow, how stupid I am?’ she scolded herself. Sitting upright, Jane clawed a hand through her hair. ‘But what if he’s the one? What if I can finally let go of Peter? What if I can finally be happy again?’

The constant back and forth arguments tormented her mind, like an angel and devil sat on her shoulders. She imagined scenario after scenario. Turing up to a date in the park and her mysterious new friend arriving with a flower, the two walking around talking and laughing and the date ending with him walking her home and asking if he could give her a hug before departing. Another situation: he turned up to a date at a bar, covered in sweat from a run, boasting about how fast he could run and challenging her there and then to a race. Or the two of them sat at a romantic restaurant, him being sweet and kind all the while, but them having nothing in common at all. Jane’s heart dropped to her stomach. ‘I guess I won’t know if I don’t give him a go,’ she told herself, with a shaky breath.

Straightening her back, Jane crossed her legs and prodded her thumbs into her phone. “There,” she said to herself with a nod, as she pressed send. A smile prodded into the right corner of her cheek, as she stared at her sent message: “Hi, this is Jane, the lady who nearly knocked you out the other week, with her basket, at Mullins. Thank you for asking me out for a drink. I’d like that. I finish at 2pm on Fridays and I’m usually free on Sundays, if you are still interested.”

Satisfied with her attempt at communicating with the man she could not get out of her head, Jane placed her phone onto her desk and started up her laptop. Whilst she waited for her laptop to load, her phone vibrated, dancing across the desk. Her heart leapt. Her eyes lit up. It was him. She had received a message, already, from the guy who reminded her of Peter Pan. A smile spread across her face, prodding into her cheeks and her heart rattled at her ribcage, as she tapped at her phone, to read his message. “Great! Anywhere in particular you had in mind?” was his reply. Jane’s heart raced.

“Wow,” she whispered to herself. A sparkle gleamed in her eyes, as her thumbs raced across her phone’s screen. “I don’t know how well you know the area,” she typed back, “but there is a nice, little café bar in the village, called the Babbling Brook. It does alcoholic, soft and hot drinks. If it’s too far away, I’m happy to travel to somewhere of your choosing.”

Butterflies danced in from Jane’s stomach, up to her ribcage, sending a tingling sensation down her arms and legs. ‘I haven’t felt like this since texting Peter. This must be something special,” she told herself, as she opened a document on her laptop. She let out a happy sigh, before skimming her eyes across her laptop’s screen and hovering her fingers over the keys.

Vibration rattled on the end of her desk. Jane had received another message. Her beaming grin grew, as she swiped her phone and prodded her thumb into the screen. “I know the café. Sounds nice. How’s 3:30pm on Friday?” was his speedy reply.

“Perfect,” typed Jane, as she said the word out loud. She let out a little giggle, as she had been smiling so much her cheeks began to ache. “Look forward to seeing you,” she told him.

“Great,” he replied, almost immediately. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“You too,” she told him.

 

*

 

Waiting to cross the road, at a set of pelican lights, Jane patted at a crease in the billow of the skirt of her dress. ‘I hope I look okay,’ she worried. Creases lined her forehead, as she stroked a hand across the soft, silky texture of her black dress, with small red and blue roses. Her stomach spiralled into knots. Fidgeting with the daisy hair clip that she had borrowed from her mum, Jane curled her hair behind her ear. ‘What if he stands me up?’ she worried, flickering her eyes towards the Babbling Brook. She was not close enough to see if the Peter Pan lookalike was already waiting for her. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened to me,’ she warned herself. Jane’s shoulders deflated and she let out a sigh, as she dropped her sight to her shoes. ‘What if he is there and he’s waiting, but he’s expecting some amazing, beautiful, intelligent woman and he’s stuck with me?’ Jane sniffed, as her heart sank to her stomach. ‘I don’t even know his name. Of course he won’t like me.’

Cars slowed. The traffic lights began to beep. Seeping a slow, deep breath, Jane straightened her posture and held her head high, as her heels clip-clopped across the road. ‘Think positive,’ she told herself, as the sign to the Babbling Brook drew nearer. ‘Once he sees me, everything will just work out. He’ll smile, I’ll get lost in his eyes and we’ll have a lovely time,’ she told herself, with a firm nod.

As Jane got closer to her destination, her heart raced in her ribcage. Her palms grew sweaty. She tugged on the rim of her cardigan, wiping the damp from her hands. She looked up. A lump lodged in her throat. He was there, sitting on a bench just outside of the café. Her intestines spiralled.

“Jane,” gasped the Peter Pan lookalike, as Jane’s heels clopped nearer. His eyes widened, as he leapt to his feet. Pinching her lips in, Jane stopped beside him and flickered a glance over his smart black shoes, trousers and grey shirt collar protruding out from his black, woollen jumper, before looking up at his flushing face. “You look great,” he breathed.

“Thanks,” murmured Jane, feeling her cheeks blush. “You too.”

“After you,” he said, gesturing his arm out, for Jane to lead the way.

The anxiety and nerves that Jane had felt, as she waited to cross the road, melted away. As soon as she saw his smile, a warmth exploded from her chest. Opening the door to the Babbling Brook, Jane’s shoulders stiffened. Her eyes skimmed to all of the people seated around them. A lump lodged in her throat. She froze, rooted to the spot. Her eyes dropped to the ground. ‘I can’t do this,’ she told herself. ‘They’re all looking at me. I shouldn’t be here,’ Jane panicked. It had been a long time since she had been on a first date. It had been a long time since she had stepped foot in this public café. Lots of bodies surrounding her caused her chest to tighten. ‘Great,’ she thought to herself, with sarcasm. ‘I can’t do this,’ she cried to herself, unable to remove her eyes from a spot on the floor. ‘What if Peter’s here with Bell? Hooks Inc. is literally around the corner. What if someone sees me? What if-’

“Would you like a drink?” asked her date. Fluttering her eyes, Jane shuddered, as she turned towards him. She heard his voice, but his words were lost to her ears. Her lips parted and her brow puckered. “I said, would you like a drink?” he asked her again, with a small chuckle to his voice, as he rested a hand against the hollow of her back.

“Er…” she breathed, as she focused all of her attention on him.

“My treat,” he told her. “I’m having a latte. Do you want a hot drink too, or a water or wine? Whatever you fancy,” he said with a nervous laugh, as he scratched hand to the back of his neck. His laugh melted away Jane’s worries. As she felt his warmth and focused on his hypnotising eyes and contagious smile, Jane found the courage to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.

“Could I have a hot chocolate, please?” she asked in a small voice. “I don’t mind paying for us,” she added, dropping her eyes to her satchel and fiddling with the clasp.

“Don’t be silly,” he chuckled. “It’s my treat.”

As they approached the front desk, to order drinks, the sudden thud of anxiety that washed over Jane as soon as they stepped inside the Babbling Brook began to fade, as her date stood near her and kept his arm hovering at her back, as he ordered their drinks. “We’ll sit upstairs,” she heard him say to the lady who took their order. “Should be quieter upstairs,” he whispered to Jane. “Not as many people.” Jane let out a breath she had not realised she was holding, as a soft smile broke across her face. Her lips parted and her eyes widened, as she gazed up at him.

Jane’s heart gave a flutter, as she followed him through the Babbling Brook café and up the stairs, to a small table for two tucked away in the corner. ‘It’s like he knows me,’ Jane thought, as she followed him. ‘He could see I was struggling and without saying anything or making a scene, he knew how to calm me down and lead me away from it all… wow, maybe he’s the one,’ she wondered, with a dreamy sigh.

“This is better,” he exclaimed, as he dropped into a chair, in the corner of the room, away from the larger tables and crowded walk ways. “Thought you’d prefer a quiet spot,” he told Jane, as she perched on the chair opposite.

“Thank you,” she smiled at him. He averted his eyes to the candle in the centre of the table, as his cheeks reddened. “So,” he began, clearing his throat, before rubbing his hand across the back of his neck once more. “What have you been up to since we last hung out?” he asked. Jane’s brow furrowed.

“I saw you yesterday,” she replied plainly.

“Before then, silly. The last couple of years. What’ve you been up to?” he asked. Cupping his right hand in his left, he pressed his arms into the table and leant forwards, eager to hear Jane talk about herself. The lines on Jane’s forehead deepened, as she let out a nervous laugh. “What?” he gasped and leant back into his chair. “Don’t you recognise me?” As the creases on Jane’s forehead deepened, she slowly shook her head and squeezed her hands together at her chest. “I don’t believe it,” he muttered, dropping his eyes to the table. His shoulders deflated, as he lowered his head. “You really don’t know who I am?” he asked, darting his eyes towards her. Jane’s lips parted, as she let out a nervous exhale. “Peter Pan,” he said plainly. “You were a part of my life for several years. I know I messed up, but I thought you’d at least remember me,” he exclaimed. “God, this is embarrassing,” he muttered, clawing a hand through his scalp.

“Peter?” gasped Jane. “It really is you?” she asked, with a squeaky voice.

“What?” he gasped. “You didn’t recognise me?” Forcing a swallow, Jane shook her head. “I don’t look that different, do I?”

“Kind of,” she muttered, with a shrug, as she stared at his scraped back, long curls tied up in a bun. Noticing him staring at her, Jane shot her eyes towards the flicking flame of the candle. “I never expected it to be you,” she muttered. She crossed her arms across her stomach, gripped her elbows and squeezed her nails tight into them. “It’s been years,” she mumbled, with a sniff. “I thought you were married.”

“Things didn’t work out,” he muttered, with a shrug.

“What about Hooks Inc.?” she asked, flickering him a glance.

“I needed a career change,” he told her, scrunching his nose. “Sitting behind a desk all day wasn’t for me.”

“What about Bell?” asked Jane, with a shaky inhale, as she flickered her sight towards Peter. “When I last spoke to Fox, he said you were getting married.”

“I was,” Peter muttered. “Things just didn’t work.” Feeling her lips part, Jane’s brow slanted together. “It’s a long story,” he muttered, slouching his shoulders.

“I can listen,” Jane told him, with wide eyes and a nod.

“Nah, I don’t wanna talk about it,” said Peter, with a shudder.

Footsteps neared them. “A latte and hot chocolate?” said a waiter, as he hovered near their table.

“Yes please,” said Peter. The waiter smiled at them, as he placed the drinks on the table, before departing back downstairs. “Look!” Peter exclaimed. “Your drink has mini marshmallows, how cool!”

“Yeah,” giggled Jane, as she dragged the saucer, containing her drink, towards her. A swirl of whipped cream covered the top of the mug. Pastel pink and white mini marshmallows decorated the top of the cream, white a sprinkling of cocoa powder. Jane’s heart fluttered and the butterflies danced in her stomach as memoires of a similar hot chocolate fluttered to the front of her mind, when she and Peter had visited a café whilst on holiday. Remembering their adventure, Jane chuckled to herself.

“I missed your laugh,” Peter mumbled, as he raised his coffee mug to his lips.

“Sorry?” replied Jane, with a frown, having not heard a word Peter had said, only the muffled sound of his voice.

“I’d like to know what you’ve been up to,” he smiled, through a frothy moustache covering his stubble, having taken a slurp of his latte.

“Me?” Jane murmured. “Erm,” she hesitated, taking a shaky breath, as she stared at the whipped cream and mini marshmallows on the top of her drink. “Well, I stayed at the Neverlandian News until Hook took it over, but seeing you with Iridessa hurt too much, so I moved away,” she explained, as lines creased her forehead. Cupping her hands around her mug, Jane took a small sip. Peter pinched his lips in, to hide a chuckle, as a splodge of whipped cream stuck to the end of Jane’s nose. Exhaling a nervous laugh, Jane rubbed the back of her hand against her nose and sniffed, before continuing, “I move to the edge of Neverland and Wonderland and got a job as an intern for Slightly’s Food. I don’t know if you’ve heard of them. They’re some food channel online. They have millions followers.” Jane flickered a glance towards Peter, who nodded. “I did like it, but things got a bit messy. I was kind of seeing Slightly, but, oh it was complicated,” she said, as she sunk into her seat. “He was nice, more than nice. On paper, he was the perfect boyfriend for me,” Jane exclaimed, with bright eyes. Peter prodded a sad smile into the left of his cheek. “Slightly wanted to see me and spend time together. He would make us picnics and we would go for lovely, long walks and he always made sure I was okay and involved in the group activities. He made an effort to do things that I wanted, not just what he and the guys wanted to do, and he’d talk about our future and we were going to live together.”

Peter’s heart sank to the depths of his stomach, as he watched Jane’s eyes sparkle with life, as she gushed about how perfect Slightly was. Balling his right hand int a fist, Peter gripped his left hand around his latte mug and took a big gulp.

“I just didn’t feel anything towards him,” he heard her say, as her brows slanted together, and she flopped against the back of her seat. “Then I moved back to Neverland and worked at Wendy’s mum’s bookshop for a bit,” she said with a shrug, prodding the right corner of her mouth into her cheek, as her and Peter’s eyes met. “Then I got a job as an office junior at a solicitors, which was awful,” she said, with a groan. “I went on several dates was there, but nothing serious,” Jane mumbled, shaking her head. “Then, I got a new job, as an admin, at Rufio’s Blinds. I’ve been there since January last year, so almost two years now,” Jane told him, as she flickered her sight back to the candle, between them. “I’d been with Robert for almost that long,” she went on with a dreamy sigh. “I moved to Forgotten Hollow, which was amazing,” Jane said, with bright eyes. “Can you believe it?” she asked Peter. “Me, of all people, little ol’ me, living in Forgotten Hollow.” Lowering her eyes back to her drink, the beaming grin on Jane’s face remained, as her thoughts relayed the warm memories of her life with Robert. “But things didn’t work out,” she said with a deflating sigh. “So now I’m back home, with my mum, brother and whatever girl he happens to bring home.” Rolling her eyes, Jane prodded the right corner of her mouth down, into her cheek, as she sank in her seat.

Having watched Jane’s expressions change, throughout her story, and having felt a whirlwind of emotions, himself, over the last few minutes, Peter felt a beaming smile stretch across his face. His heart raced in his chest, as he gazed across at the woman he thought he would never see again. The one that tore his heart from his chest, by his own doing. As Jane placed her hands on the table, it took every strength that Peter had not to reach across and place his hands on hers. “That’s quite the story,” Peter replied, feeling a lump lodge in his throat, when he thought about the close-to-perfect life he had been living over the past four years, in comparison to Jane’s struggles. As the pit of his stomach gave a twinge, Peter swallowed away the lump that formed in his throat, as he smiled back at the confident grin that had returned to Jane’s face.

“Do you like where you work now?” Peter asked, as he took another sip of his latte.

“I do,” replied Jane, nodding. “I think I’m doing well, and the people are so much nicer than my old place. I think I’m good at what I do, well, I just got a pay rise, so that must mean something.”

“Wow,” Peter beamed, as Jane’s confidence sparkled from her. “See, I always knew you could do it,” he replied, hiding his growing grin, behind his coffee mug.

“Thanks,” jane giggled back.

Stinging ached her cheeks, as Jane smiled back at Peter. The warm tingling in her chest that she had felt years ago, when they were together, returned. Crossing her right knee over her left, Jane found her right foot gave an involuntary tap, as the butterflies dance around inside her. As she gazed into Peter’s eyes, Jane hugged her hands to her large cup and hummed, as she took another sip. “So, what made you decide to go from Hooks Inc. to Mulligans supermarkets?” she asked, tilting her head a little to the left. “It seems like a big career jump.”

“Not really,” shrugged Peter. “I’m the area manager. I’m on a lot more money than Hook would ever give me. I was constantly in Harry’s shadow and getting the blame for all his childish mistakes. Now, I’m sort of my own boss,” he said, with a smirk. “I get to pick my hours to suit my life and I get to drive around a lot and tell people what to do.” At this, Jane giggled. Peter’s heart pounded in his ribcage, as he chuckled at Jane’s adorable giggle. “Best of all, there’s no social media in sight,” Peter added, as he wrinkled his nose. “I hated having to write trashy celebrity scandal story, after trashy celebrity scandal story.”

“Well, well done you,” Jane beamed at him. “You sound a lot calmer than when you worked for Hook, and it sounds like it makes you happy.”

“It does,” he said, as his shoulders relaxed. “And I can finally focus on the things that I feel are important to me.”

“That’s good,” beamed Jane, with a firm nod.

Returning his half empty mug to its saucer, Peter ran a hand across the back of his neck and let out a nervous laugh. “I wish we’d met when I got my life all figured out, instead of when I was bumbling through it, like an idiot,” he told Jane, as lines creased his forehead.

“You’re not an idiot,” insisted Jane, with a soft smile, hugging both hands around her hot chocolate.

“Thanks,” he smirked. “Sorry I was horrible to you and ended things the way I did,” he mumbled, shrugging his right shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Jane whispered. Stiffening her shoulders, Jane shuffled back in her seat. She dropped her eyes to her hot cholate and brought the cup to her chest. “I was hurting so much that I couldn’t have anyone speak to me or I’d burst into tears. I couldn’t do that anymore. I’m sorry,” she breathed, lowering her cup to the saucer, as lines creased her forehead and her brows slanted together.

“I’m sorry,” mumbled Peter, keeping eye contact with her, as he lowered his head.

“I couldn’t do that anymore. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t,” she squeaked, staring him in the eye. Her hands dropped to the table, as her eyeline began to sparkle.

“I didn’t know I did that to you,” he croaked, through a lump in his throat.

“It’s okay,” whispered Jane, with a shrug, gripping her right wrist, with her left hand.

“No, it isn’t,” declared Peter.

“That’s why I’ve just kept pushing everyone away,” Jane murmured, shifting her eyes to a pink, mini marshmallow that lay on the saucer. Her foot stopped bouncing and she stiffened her shoulder blades. Shuffling in her seat, Jane placed both feet on the floor, as she continued, “I never want to feel that way ever again. So, I push everyone away before I care too much about them, so I don’t get hurt again.”

“You shouldn’t do that. Not because of me,” Peter warned her.

“It’s not because of you. I just,” Jane let out a sad sigh, as she dropped her hands to the table. Lowering her eyes to her hands, Jane’s eyebrows slanted together and a lump lodged in her throat. Warmth engulfed her, as Peter placed his hand on hers. Swallowing at the lump in her throat, Jane’s lips parted as she flickered her eyes to Peter’s.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Peter croaked, though sparkling eyes. “I kept telling myself that things were great with Iridessa, then with Wendy and with Bell, but you’d creep into my mind, when I least expected it.” Peter inhaled a sharp breath through his nose, as he lowered his line of sight to their hands. “I’d get so angry. That’s why I couldn’t have anything to do with you,” he confessed, giving Jane’s hands a squeeze. “I kept telling myself that I was happy, and I was, but it was like, every time I looked at Dessa, or Wendy or Bell, I saw your face. And-” as Peter froze, his grip around Jane’s hands loosened. “I’m sorry,” he blubbered. “Jane, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” breathed Jane, as she slid her hands out from under Peter’s and placed hers on top. “I forgave you a long time ago,” she told him, as she stroked a thumb across the back of his hand. “It’s okay, really,” she told him, through bright wide eyes and a soft smile. “And we’re friends now,” she added, prodding the right corner of her mouth into her cheek a little. “That’s all that matters, right?”

“Yeah,” mumbled Peter, as he dragged his hands away.

Staring into Jane’s pastel blue eyes, Peter fought hard with the lump that trembled in his throat. As a smile stretched across the red head’s face, the lines on Peter’s forehead faded. A smile prodded into the left corner of Peter’s cheek, as he sniffed. “Come here,” Peter sang. Sliding his chair back, Peter tapped his lap.

Tingling erupted from Jane’s chest, as she pushed her chair back and stepped towards Peter. As she perched on his lap, Peter’s wrapped his arms around her. Flopping against Peter’s chest, Jane nuzzled her chin on his shoulder, closed her eyes and breathed in his comforting scent, as she hugged him back. An explosion of even more butterflies erupted from her stomach, as she squeezed him tight. “I missed you, Jane,” he whispered, stroking a hand from the top of her head, down her hair that trailed to the hollow of her back.

“I missed you too,” Jane whispered in a soft squeak in Peter’s ear.

“Would you be willing to give me another chance?” he croaked.

“Of course,” Jane beamed, as she leant out of their embrace. “We can be friends and meet up for coffee, whenever you want,” she told him, with sparkling eyes.

“But what if I want more than that?” Peter whispered, stroking a hand against her cheek, as he lowered his eyelids.

“Get yourself settled first,” Jane said, as she placed a hand on his heart. Staring at her hand, she went on, “I don’t know what’s been going on since I last saw you, but if you haven’t long got out of a serious relationship, I don’t want you using me.” Forcing a swallow, Jane inhaled a shaky breath, as she flickered her eyes to Peter’s. “You need time to think about things,” she warned him. “If you still feel the same way, once you’re done processing everything, then yes,” she beamed. “I’d like to see if we can be more than friends.” As a smile stretched across Peter’s face, Jane dropped her eyes back to her hand at his chest. “But if you change your mind in the meantime, that’s fine too,” she added, forcing a swallow. “Just so longs as you tell me,” she said as she prodded him in the chest.

“I will,” Peter blurted out, as he took Jane’s hand in his. “I promise,” he whispered, as he rested his forehead against hers. Lowering her eyelids, Jane let out a dreamy breath, as Peter’s nose brushed against hers and his left hand stroked the hollow of her back. “Ow, it’s so hard not to kiss you right now,” he told her, through blushing cheeks, as he pressed one hand to hollow of her back and squeezed his other against her upper arm. Jane giggled against him. “I love your giggle,” his whispered. Jane giggled again. “And your smile. Seeing you smile is my favourite thing about you,” he told her, closing his eyes, as he grinned. “Jane,” he breathed. Lifting his head from hers, Peter half lifted his eyelids, to look at her, as he squeezed her arm.

“Peter,” she whispered back, shuddering against his touch.

“I’m never letting you go,” he chuckled, puckering his lips, as his nose brushed her cheek. Twitching her face to the right, Jane moved her lips from Peter’s, giving him her cheek. Tingling swirled from her chest, as Peter pressed his lips into her cheek. Jane let out another soft giggle. “I felt so lost without you,” Peter confessed. “I kept telling myself I was okay, that I was happy, but I can see now that I wasn’t. I’ve been such a d*** to you. I’m so sorry,” he muttered, his voice trembling. “Jane I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jane whispered, stroking a thumb to his stubbled cheek. “It’s okay,” she whispered again. “I’m here,” she told him, with a soft smile. “I’ve always been right here. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise. Whether we’re just friends, or something more, I’m here. I’m always right here,” she whispered, as she leant towards him and placed her lips on his cheek. Inhaling a long sniff, Peter’s sparkling eyes looked towards Jane’s as he pinched his lips in.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pulling Jane into a tight embrace. Resting her chin, on Peter’s shoulder, Jane stroked her thumb against his ear, as her fingers brushed against his hair. Warmth danced in her chest, as she sat with her arms wrapped around Peter, her eyes closed and a smile stretched across her face.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Peter,” she whispered, her breath soft and gentle on his ear. “I promise.”

The end

- Josie -