A2 and I have this thing. I don't know what you'd call it, but I know what we call it - he's the long-lost twin brother I never had. Which, when we briefly dated, made for some frightening moments. Often one of us would say what the other was thinking, almost unconsciously, as if we shared a brain. I consider him the most intelligent person I've ever met; incredibly, he thinks the same of me. Never have I felt so tuned in to someone else nor felt someone was so tuned in to me. In real life, we even have been mistaken for brother and sister. That is of course until we open our mouths: he's from Devon, though the last decade of moving on both our parts has meant our accents are slowly converging.

I met with him, A3 and A4 for a curry before Christmas. For those of you new to this - A1, A2 and I were at university together, A2 and A3 are professional collaborators, and A3 is A4's boss. A few other partners in crime were in attendance as well, and several more joined along the way. All in all a jolly night out.

But for me it was steeped in a sort of nostalgia. There round the table were all (apart from A1) of the people who were the centre of my life ten years ago. And oh, how I missed their world. It was a profession I slid into mainly on the strength of association (A2 features strongly on my CV's list of referees) and slid out of not without regrets. I was in love with it. In lust. It intrigued and obsessed me. I have often said I would rather be the least capable and least experienced person in a room than the most, because then you would be challenged, you would learn something. This was always true in that field. I never felt mentally challenged in anything I did since. Writing has its high points, and my current job does as well, but nothing that keeps me up nights. I do not wake up at 2am to write thoughts on a notepad for the morning anymore.

While on sabbatical last year, A2 started exploring tendrils of thoughts that had been in the back of my head for years. Strange connections between fields, ways of communicating between disciplines. Expanding the idea of consilience, if you will. I was envious and wished I had never left, that it had been me going down those pathways.

When he described his current polyamorous setup, I was only mildly interested. Bodies are one thing. It is the mind that fascinates me most. Lovers, I miss and sometimes think wistfully about. But past mental fascinations I ache for like a widow.

Recently T said of something - probably steam trains, come to think of it, 'I don't understand how you find the time to pursue so many things to a fairly geeky level.' To which I could only say I don't understand what everyone else does with their time.

But there were problems with that world. What the As do, I mean, not steam trains. There were good reasons I left. Not having the right qualifications was one. I am largely an autodidact in that field, which is not unheard of, but always felt just that bit inferior to the others. I left with something to prove and ended up somewhere where, more often than not, I am the most capable and most experienced person in a room. Which is exactly as unfulfilling as I thought it would be.

Another problem was the reward was potentially high, but disaster also lurked. I watched it develop at a time when venture capital was being poured in from all directions, and watched as businesses built on poor foundations failed. Others simply faded away and became 'whatever happened to?' questions at dinners with the As. As for job statisfaction... there is the possibility of feeling the work you are doing is a real building block, something important. Or you could feel your contribution is quaternary or at best tertiary to human existence.

And now, if I could go back? Back to the life I left for London and what came after?

...but as we know you can never go back. Or can you? There are two doors open right now and genuinely I don't know which to choose. There are possibly others and I can't bear even to look at those, much less consider them. -Not from what we think truest, or most want to do- I am aware that going through one will probably mean the others shut forever. -Suddenly they harden into all we got, and how we got it-

 

 

 

 

 

It has never been clear to me whether A2 knows about Belle or not. I dimly remember mentioning something in a roundabout way, years ago, in fact the morning after I first slept with Dr California. It has not come up since, and never seemed important. As the others left the restaurant, I pulled him to one side.

'You remember I told you something once about being a call girl, and a book?'

He nodded. 'I wondered what happened with that.'

'It's a bestseller. And a show. And Billie Piper plays me.'

'The Doctor's assistant?' he said, and hugged me tightly. 'That is so cool.'

Which is, come to think of it, exactly how I would have thought he'd respond.