Free What Might Have Been by Matt Dunn

trembling, and wondered whether he should have ordered decaf – or perhaps even a brandy instead. Up on stage he’d always felt comfortable, whatever the size of the audience – perhaps because he had confidence in his ability – but for as long as he could remember, he’d been nervous whenever simply asking a woman out. Asking one if she wanted to come away with him, and for a year . . .
    Of course, it was a little far-fetched to think she could just drop everything and go, but after his conversation with Finn, he’d been feeling he had to make some sort of gesture. Offer Sarah something, at least to show her that Thursday night hadn’t just been a one-off. And while, back in the café, he’d almost laughed at how preposterous Finn’s suggestion had sounded, he’d been rehearsing it all morning , and unlike when you repeated a word so many times it lost its meaning, he’d been surprised at how much more sense the idea had made the more he’d said it.
    While in his heart of hearts he suspected a long-distance relationship was the best he could hope for, his request might at least soften the blow when he told Sarah about the tour, though to be honest, even the prospect of trying to keep something going made him nervous. A year or so ago, he’d struggled to maintain seeing someone who’d lived in Bethnal Green, and that had been just across the Thames. The Atlantic? That was a whole new – and much scarier – prospect.
    He looked down at the crowds on the South Bank, scurrying around as if grateful to be freed from their day jobs, and allowed himself a smile. Evan had never had a day job – and while he had to work what were known as ‘unsociable’ hours, he didn’t see them like that at all. His job was about as sociable as you could get – playing for people when they were out having a good time, a few drinks, perhaps even joining them for one afterwards. Plus, he’d always loved having his days to himself. The freedom of being able to get up whenever he wanted – particularly if he’d had a late night – and not having to be woken up by the alarm, iron a shirt, or jump on the underground with the millions of commuters that swelled London’s population by so much every weekday was, he knew, a blessing . Being tied to the nine-to-five that most of his school friends – and a good many of his music-school friends – had ended up doing just wasn’t for him.
    Though while the free time was one of the joys of his occupation, recently Evan had begun to feel his days weren’t quite as much fun as they could be. The lack of urgency had begun to seem more like no sense of direction. The solitude he used to enjoy was starting to feel like loneliness. On one or two occasions, he’d found himself desperate to go and sit in a café and drink a coffee just to be surrounded by people: he’d found that a little worrying. And then two days ago, he’d met Sarah, and already he’d begun to wish he could spend all that free time with her.
    He checked his watch for what seemed like the thousandth time. She was late – although given his upcoming absence, he could hardly complain about her timekeeping – and he swivelled round on his stool to get an unobstructed view of the lift doors. The last thing he wanted was for her to miss him – assuming she turned up. Even though he was bound to miss her if she turned him down.
    He chuckled at his own joke and wondered whether he should use it to break the ice when she arrived, although given Sarah’s expression when he spotted her, Evan suddenly feared he’d need a much better one than that. As she hurried over to where he was sitting , he stood up to greet her.
    ‘Hi.’
    ‘Evan, I . . .’
    Sarah hesitated before sitting down, and he began to feel uneasy. ‘What’s wrong?’
    ‘Nothing,’ she said, though Evan wondered why she hadn’t kissed him hello – and seemed to be having trouble meeting his eyes. ‘It’s a stunning view.’
    ‘Yes,’ he said,