Free Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 2 by Various Authors Page B

notice period, four weeks of edging around each other, four weeks of Mark trying to set everything up to run without him, and Jules listening to the explanations without really believing he would have to do all this for himself.
    "You will come and visit," Jules said confidently, but even as the words left his mouth he saw how unlikely it was. Mark had given up his flat in the town; he was moving to share with a friend of a friend in London. If he visited, where would he stay? With Carrie or one of the other staff? In that case Jules would hardly see him. In the empty nanny's room in Jules's flat? Maybe in time, Jules thought. Right now there was still too much awkwardness between them. Jules couldn't look at Mark without wanting him and feeling betrayed, and Mark didn't look at him at all.
    Anyway, the nanny's room would soon be occupied again. That was one of the things Mark arranged before he left. He called the agency, who said that Lucy would shortly be on her way home from Thailand.
    "Tell them I'll take her," Jules said at once.
    "She won't be able to start until mid-April," Mark warned. "Do you want a temp in the meantime?"
    "No, I'll wait for Lucy."
    He was having trouble imagining how it was going to be, without Mark. Even on Mark's last day it didn't seem real. As the staff gathered in the kitchen, as Jules made the speech he'd prepared and presented Mark with a framed watercolor of the town square by a local artist with the restaurant just visible in one corner, it was hard to believe he was leaving permanently.
    But when the girls and one camp young waiter lined up to kiss Mark goodbye and the other men slapped him on the back or shook his hand, Jules suddenly felt as if a steel fist was gripping his guts. He couldn't look at Mark's blushing, smiling face. So all Mark got from Jules, apart from the painting, was a pat on the shoulder and a muttered "Good luck" before Jules fled into the office.
    Nicole was sleeping. Mark had already said his goodbyes to her. Jules had walked into the office during the afternoon to see him rocking her against his shoulder. Mark was facing away from the door, saying, "Goodbye, Baby Bird. Have a wonderful life." Jules had backed quietly out again without being seen.
    Now he lifted Nicole out of the cot and took her to the window. She didn't wake but it didn't matter. It was more for his own sake that Jules held her against his chest as he looked through the slats of the blind at Mark crossing the small car park, head down, going to his car. He glanced back once and Jules raised a hand but there was no response. The blind hid him, probably. The lights flashed as Mark unlocked the car, and then he was getting in and driving away. Gone.
    Jules was sure he would keep in touch. On the day that he started his new job, Jules kept checking his phone. When there was no message, Jules told himself it was too soon, Mark would be busy. All through that week he waited for the call. Nothing. Surely, then, at the weekend... but no. No text, no voicemail, no email.
    The following weekend, Jules called him. It went to voicemail. He left a brief, casual message, asking how the job was going. Mark texted back a brief, casual reply saying it was good. More responsibility, a lot to get his head around, but good. Jules didn't hear from him again and when he thought about it, he felt hurt. He didn't have so many friends in England that he could afford to lose one. And Mark had been the best he had.
    But he was so busy now, he hardly had time to think. Certainly he had no time to obsess about why somebody didn't want to keep in touch with him, or so he told himself. Between Nicole, his own job as head chef and trying to find people to do all the things that Mark used to do, he was constantly busy and usually multi-tasking. He thought his life might be easier if he bought a car and took a few lessons in driving on the left but he couldn't even find the time to do that.
    Sometimes he came close to quitting.