A short story about a man returning to the home of a girl he dated as a teenager. Hope you enjoy it.

            Since my divorce from Katherine, I wanted to return to my hometown and be closer to Mum and Dad. I found a tiny flat not far from them, and thanks to my old school friend, took a job only a few streets away. The job was enjoyable, if sometimes monotonous, but it was a new start. With a new chapter beginning in my life since the divorce, I would take the chance to rebuild bridges and catch up on all my old school chums, some I had not seen for about ten years. I knew from social media that many had moved on in life; a little older, balder, fatter, some with kids, married, some divorced. But first I would settle into my new life.

Every day I walked back to my tiny bachelor flat the same route, but then one day, I took a different route. The sun was bright, I had no one to get home to, and the extra steps may burn off some of my middle age belly.

I knew the area well, for I had grown up here. From little kid to teenager, the streets had been mine; manoeuvring my bike down alleys and through shortcuts, playing in the roads, being chased by bullies and later on drinking cider under age away from adult eyes. The neighbours had changed, some moved out, some had died. I had made so many memories in this part of town. Although the streets were familiar, they had changed in little ways; a wall where there had once been a wooden fence, a bench on a sward, a house had been built on the empty stretch where me and my mates would have a crafty fag after school.

I suddenly realised I was in Lavender Street – and there was number 26, a terrace house, wooden fence, blue door, nothing special to look at. But it was where Holly had lived. She was my ex-girlfriend, something went wrong way back when we were only seventeen; maybe sixteen, I can’t remember now. As I walked past, I glanced at the door; it was where it had all ended. We had spoken about the relationship, and decided it was not worth carrying on. I can’t even remember why. The door was red now, she had long moved on, I heard she was married, even her mum and dad had moved away. The curtains had been replaced with blinds, the white brickwork was now a pale blue, and the broken guttering was fixed. I thought no more, the time were long gone, and with a smile, walked past.

            I pushed the memories from my mind; I was still getting divorced from Katherine, she was being difficult, and for the first time in all the years we were married, I was glad we did not have children. She was with her new man, giving abuse on social media, harassing the solicitors, demanding all my earthy belongings and a pound of flesh. At night, the stress got me down, I threw myself into my job, but I was physically tired and emotionally burnt out too. I cried into my cold pillow, descending into deeper and deeper darkness.

            Sometime later, I can’t remember how long, but I found myself outside 26 Lavender Street again. The daylight was failing, the streetlights beginning to flicker on, and the stars were emerging on the blue-to-night black sky.

            My mind drifted back to those years long gone.

            “Go now, I can’t have you here again,” she told me. But then she looked past the younger me.

            “What’s that?”

            “I thought I saw something, just a shadow.” Her eyes returned to younger me, filled with tears. “Go, I can’t… just go.”

            I turned away from the scene in my mind, it was clearer than it had been for a long time, and I trudged away.

            As I walked the rest of my journey home, I remembered back to that day. Most of the memories were gone with the years. We had met through a mutual friend the time together was fun, but we were young and stupid. She was not even my first girl, and it did not last long. But that last meeting; why did we split up in the end? Did I ever know? “Go now, I can’t have you here again…” the words haunted my sleep, and that short scene plagued my dreams. I had wept bitterly from those words, but she had told me to go, and I had to respect her. By that point in our relationship, I had already spent weeks fighting for her, there was nothing left, and I never saw her again.

            But I’m a grown man, I had dated her when I had been a kid. To prove it to myself, after several days, I went along Lavender Street once more. The house was in darkness, and I paused once more by the gate, making out I was using my mobile.

            I thought back, the images as clear as if it was a movie.

The door opened and I stumbled out, tears on my face, and Holly emerged after me, her face puffy with tears. She gulped back the tears and tried to sound brave. “Go now, I can’t have you here again,” she told me. But then she had looked past me.

            “What’s that?” I asked her.

            “I thought I saw a man; he had a beard and his hand on his ear,” Holly said. “But it does not matter, go, I can’t… just go.”

            Younger me turned and walked away, I never looked back.

            I sighed and shrugged my shoulders at the memory. Back then I had turned and walked away, but now I looked back. What had happened to her? Was she happy and did she ever think about me? What would have happened if we had stayed together? I expect we would have been divorced as I was divorced from Katherine. Would she have wanted kids? Stop being silly, it did not matter, those days were long gone.

            Work was busy, so my mind was distracted, and I took the quickest route home so I could access my tea and PlayStation and chill out as quick as possible. It was on a Friday just as I tucked into dinner when I heard shouting outside. I flicked the curtain to look. They were young and drunk and having a good Friday night knees up. I was alone with a TV. I cast a look around my bachelor pad. I had made it the best I could, it was neat and clean, but cold from lack of company. Since I had been back, I had been absorbed in my work and divorce. While I had met up with a few friends I realised I was neglecting them again. I had not even visited my parents for a fortnight. It was too late to call on people now, but the sky was clear outside, so I went for a walk to clear my head. Somehow, I found myself outside 26 Lavender Street once more.

            This time I lingered longer. I don’t know why, she would not open the door and see me, she was long gone with whatever life had presented her with. Opposite the house was a bench. It was stained by age, crude comments etched into the slats and the bin next to it was a pile of burnt plastic, with rubbish was piled around it. The bench had been new back then, when the summer sun had warmed our backs. Her dad had told us to get out of his way, and we left the house and sat on the bench hand in hand. We spoke of the future; of which university to go to and what jobs were planned.

“We’ll always have each other, regardless of what happens,” Holly said. I wiped away a tear; there was more to her sadness than just the uncertain future.

            “What’s wrong?” I asked.

            “I’ll tell you tonight. Come on, let’s make the most of today, we’ll walk to the beach, I’ve got some money for ice creams and the arcade.” She squeezed my hand playfully, a broad smile on her delicate face. She paused for a moment and frowned. “Did you see that man then? They guy with the beard?”

            “No,” I replied.

            The day had been fantastic at the beach; I had won her a teddy in the arcade. The day had seemed perfect, but it had been the last day we were together. I sighed, and sat on the dirty bench, carefully avoiding the stains. The evening seemed colder than it should be, maybe winter was coming. Did she still have the teddy? I ran a hand through my beard, and it reminded me of the man she kept seeing; was he part of the story?

            Number 26 was dark now, as if the light was twisting away from it. Then I remembered back to the summer day, when I came from the house in tears.

“Go now, I can’t have you here again,” she told me. But then she had looked past me.

            “What’s that?” I asked her.

            “Who’s that man? The one with the beard?” Holly asked. Now she looked direct at me, “He’s the one from earlier.”

            “Holly,” I whispered, and both the younger me and Holly looked at me. 

            “You need to go now,” she told the younger me. And with a sob, I walked away and never looked back.

Holly turned back to me.

            “You said that you would wait,” I told her.

            “I have waited,” she smiled. She walked to me and held my hand, and I bent to kiss her. But it was not the older me kissing, her but the young sixteen-year-old.

            The streetlight seemed to burn brighter, we held hands and looked at it. It was always romantic to kiss under the light. Once, as we kissed under the streetlight, a passer-by said, “make the most of it, it never lasts.” How wrong he was. As we walked towards the lamppost, and the light engulfed us I remembered it all.

            “I have to go to America, Dad says it’s the only place that may be able to treat my illness,” she told me. “Maybe they can help, but if not, I’ll wait for you.” I knew it was true, I could not go with her. Tears ran down my face and I opened her front door.

            “Go now, I can’t have you here again,” she told me. She frowned, “I thought I saw a man, he had a beard. Maybe it’s God,” she chuckled bravely. “But it does not matter, go, I can’t… just go.”

            I turned and walked away; I knew if I looked back, I would burst into tears. It was the last time I saw her. She went to America, but they could not help her…

Now I realised that my new job and flat were not new. The pictures on the wall showed me and Katherine, from years ago, her cup was on the kitchen side. It was not new, it was the flat I had first moved into with her, it was the job I had taken to pay for it. I never caught up with my friends because I never would. It was all old memories. Katherine had told me she wanted a divorce, so I left that very night and headed back to my parents. But I never made it. The motorbike hit a pothole, and I was thrown into the path of a lorry.

            But Holly was still waiting, as she promised me she would.