38
BETTINA WAS SILENT for the longest time. I waited; I was growing better at that. Eventually she took another mouthful of wine, then said, ‘You want me to help you launch this project in Berlin?’
‘Exactly.’
‘But why? It’s not what I do. I mean, I write tags and blurbs and websites. I don’t launch anything; I don’t think I have the outfit for it.’
‘We’ll go shopping. In Berlin. I know you can do more than you’re giving right now. If we were men, this wouldn’t seem crazy. We’d simply be taking our rightful place in the world. Look at Tom, when did he start?’
‘Five minutes ago,’ said Bettina with a generous eye roll.
‘And now he’s running a department. That’s not because he’s good.’
‘He’s all right,’ Bettina conceded.
‘Exactly. All right. When you have a penis you can get away with being all right, as long as at the same time you shout about how bloody amazing you are. But you don’t shout, even though you’re amazing.’
‘And you’re amazing, honey.’
‘I know.’ I didn’t know this at all, but I was giving the hard sell and it felt important to be able to fake it. I had meant the advice I offered to Nush after her break-up; the best course of action was to make your ex see you as successful. I didn’t know then about the footnote explaining that you secretly hoped it would make him want you again. I didn’t have doubts about what I was doing; I didn’t consider that following Frank across Europe might cause him to see me as an unhinged, rabbit-boiling psychopath, and I didn’t consider the ethics of pulling my friend into my dysfunction. I think that’s what an affair can do: with all that time living in an altered reality, you no longer feel the need to observe the rules of civil society. Of course, Bettina said yes because she trusted me, and when you trust someone and they unleash that level of enthusiasm on you, why would you question their motives?
I called Nush; she told me she was having drinks in The Ned. I instructed her to sit tight until I arrived and, knowing that even this instruction might prove too complicated, I raced across town. After several minutes wandering round the same block, I found the door. The entrance was discreet and plain; you wouldn’t notice it if you weren’t looking. Clearly, they didn’t want riff-raff wandering in for a pint or pee. I could feel the events of the day catching up with me. The base of my spine had started to call out for attention and little white blobs appeared to be floating in front of my eyes, but Nush was the last hurdle so I knew I had to push on. Behind the door I was bombarded with unfamiliar sounds – live piano music, crystal glasses chiming against each other, the rolling laughter of rich, contented people. Nush had said ‘The Ned’ as if it was her friendly local, yet the main bar hosted more people than I had at my wedding.
‘Alison!’ she called from somewhere within the crowd. She was standing on a banquette, beckoning me with two hands. As I approached, she fell back down to her seat, wobbling dangerously on landing. She was held steady by two young men on either side of her; two women sat across from them. It reminded me of my twenties – long evenings spent planning and dreaming over cheap bottles of wine. The place was palatial but in essence it was Nush’s local.
‘Darling,’ said Nush. ‘This is Bryce.’ She indicated the man on her left, a lanky guy with a scraggy beard.
‘Hey,’ he drawled. I nodded a greeting. Nush introduced the rest of the group and I let the flurry of names wash over me. I needed to focus. They weren’t interested in me anyway; probably I wasn’t young or beautiful enough. Even in my new suit, I guess I didn’t look powerful enough. I didn’t care.
‘Ladies, gentlemen,’ I said, working my face into a smile that I could feel wouldn’t look genuine. ‘Could you give Nush and me some time?’ They all turned to her, awaiting instruction like primary-school children.
‘It’s cool,’ said Nush, ‘I’ll catch up with you at the club.’ They dutifully tipped back the last of their drinks and gathered their belongings. Entering a scenario where Nush was the person in charge helped me to push aside any doubts about what I was engineering. I admit they were there – a little voice, low but insistent, that I should be spending the time with my children; my conscience tap, tap, tapping me on the shoulder. I spoke loudly and clearly to drown it out.
‘Sorry to ambush you, but we need to speak about the show.’
‘Am I in trouble?’ Her eyes became wide and warned of tears.
‘No, far from it.’ Rather than looking relieved, Nush seemed perplexed. At least she was aware that it would be unrealistic for me to be impressed with her performance to date. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever made clear how expansive I think your idea is. I’ve been thinking about it and I believe we’ve underestimated the scale of the potential.’ Nush winced; to her, potential meant work and not opportunity. ‘Rather than executing one show, which is just one chance to make an impact, we need to do a series. It will increase the amount of exposure you and each artist gets.’
Nush pouted. Her eyes danced over to the bar. She was growing bored, not only with me but with the whole project. I couldn’t really blame her. Why bother working when you could have a man look after you? I had failed her; used her as a cash cow when I could have been showing her how important it is for a woman to follow her passions and build something for herself. ‘There’s a couple of great angles to this. Firstly, we get to move it forward really speedily, get things going immediately. You can prove yourself to the industry, to the world, but if things don’t pan out, we haven’t lost too much.’ I knew the last part would clinch it – everyone loves an escape route. Nush opened and closed her mouth a few times, without speaking. I could tell she was trying to configure the right words to let me down with. I was not going to allow it. ‘Nush, can I tell you what I’m worried about?’ She tipped her head, which I took as a yes. ‘If we don’t press ahead with this now, right now, we’ll lose momentum, and then your father will have invested all this money and …’ I left her to finish the sentence herself. I was sure she would come up with something far scarier than I could imagine. I didn’t know if there would be any consequence; it was cruel of me to suggest there would be, but life is cruel. I kept talking. I did the same with the girls when they were young, ensuring they wouldn’t have time to analyse my words before more came; ensuring the speech was delivered with so much energy and warmth that they would absorb this and not question the message. When I ran out of steam, Nush tipped her head in the other direction.
‘I’m not sure. I mean, organizing this internationally sounds like a lot.’ I wanted to scream. She picked this moment to be thoughtful and cautious?
‘It won’t be because I’m going to pull a team together.’
‘A whole team? Won’t that cost more?’
‘We can fit it all into the existing budget.’ Which was true because the budget was ludicrous.
‘A team,’ said Nush. ‘OK. What do you need from me?’ I wanted to laugh that this was what had clinched it. A team made her feel important; maybe it’s what we’re all looking for, and everything would be easier if we could admit it. I told her I would take care of the logistics, but she needed to brief Charlie and get a list of what he required sent to me by the morning. ‘I’m seeing him in a bit,’ she said. ‘I’ll get dates he’s available in the next two weeks and then meet him tomorrow for deets.’
‘Great. Remember, as soon as possible – let’s get moving. I’ll send venue details in the next couple of days.’
‘Fab. Ooh it’s happening! I’m excited.’ It felt like we were working together for the first time since we met.
I went back to the flat; it took a while. I had to keep stopping to remind myself where I was going. When I got back, I wanted to do nothing other than fall face first into a massive glass of wine, but I had one more call to make.
‘I have a job for you.’
‘What kind of job? Because you know I don’t fix stuff. My experience is mainly in breaking shit. Remember when I
blew up the microwave.’
‘A real job, Henry. Effort in exchange for money.’
‘I’m listening …’
‘I was really impressed with you yesterday. How you got things sorted.’
‘I’m sorry, can you say that again?’
‘I was impressed with you. You stepped up to the plate.’
‘That first bit. One more time.’
‘Henry, don’t ruin this.’
‘OK. I’ll be your glorified PA or whatever it is. My rate is fifty an hour.’
‘You’ll get a grand for the whole project.’
‘Deal.’
I lay back on the mattress. I could feel the suit crumpling beneath me, but I couldn’t summon the will to take it off. Alone in the dark, I had misgivings about whether I could pull it off; whether Frank had taken too much from me. But I found it was helpful to have a purpose.
In the morning, when I woke at dawn, I redirected the repetitive cycle of turbulent thoughts into action. Nush had come through and sent me a few dates and Charlie’s contact details by text at four in the morning. Knowing nothing about Berlin and even less about setting up an art show, I was able to secure a venue. I was amazed by how much you can do when fuelled by spite. I set Henry up with a Gmail address and then sent him the details of the venue, asking him to find flights and a hotel for the whole team. I hadn’t had a team since my last job. I hadn’t realized it, but I had avoided the situation because the last experience had ended so painfully. There was a line in Frank’s book: You can try and hide from fear but it will find you. I was stepping into the light.
I called Charlie and invited myself to his studio. He grunted down the line that he would accept my presence. I put several coats of concealer under my eyes, hoping MAC could offer me the impression of alertness. When I arrived, Charlie was on all fours examining a large map on the floor. His focus was totally channelled into his work. I might not have appreciated his art but I respected the energy that went into it, and perhaps that was what made it successful. I knelt down beside him. He barely reacted to my presence; he sat back on his knees, so we were side by side as if worshipping together.
‘Hi,’ I said. In response, he ran his hand up and down the back of his neck.
‘Do you think this is a bit too literal?’ I looked at the map. It was ripped around the edges and looked damp in places. Dotted about it were images of penises, all different shapes, sizes and states of arousal.
‘Um, I’m gonna say it depends on what you’re trying to say?’
‘It’s not obvious?’ I shook my head and tried to look more apologetic than amused.
‘I found the porn in Soho. Abandoned in an alley. I guess people don’t bother with literature that much any more. I found the map in Finchley bus station – well, stole it. So, the cocks represent places I’ve had sex, but only the throwaway experiences.’ I leaned in to examine the work. An incredibly long thin member was stuck on Wood Green library.
‘Now you’ve explained it, I guess it is a bit … um, literal.’ Charlie pulled the map from the floor and tore it to pieces. I gasped. Not that I thought it was worthy of much else, but his ability to react and move on was strangely thrilling. I stood up. ‘You’re on board with Berlin.’
‘Absolutely,’ he said. ‘Very fitting with my style. Who do you have shipping the art?’
I realized I had a lot to learn in a very short amount of time.
39
‘I HAVEN’T COME TO talk,’ I told Dylan. ‘We will, but I understand that now isn’t the time.’ I delivered this from outside the house. Dylan had opened the door but not completely, just enough to wedge his body into the gap.
‘I told them you were on a trip, remember,’ he whispered. I nodded because I understood the instinct to conceal the truth, but it irritated me that he couldn’t see how it would do more harm in the long run.
‘I am going on a trip actually, but before I leave, I need to see my girls. And explain what’s going on, so they don’t try and fill in the gaps or think it’s about them.’
‘Isn’t it?’ said Dylan. ‘Isn’t it a bit about them?’ He knew me, and maybe I had dismissed and disregarded him precisely because of this, because he understood the parts of me that I wanted to pretend weren’t real. I moved towards him, he remained unnaturally still. I reached up to his shoulder and pulled him towards me. He didn’t respond but didn’t resist as I pressed my lips against his. There was nothing right about the moment – in fact it was completely inappropriate – but I’d suddenly realized that I could not remember the last time we had kissed, and knew I might never have the opportunity again.
‘Dylan, I’m so sorry.’ Such a silly word. I was embarrassed by it, how small and weak it sounded. When I stepped back, Dylan let his head sink to his chest, like he had grown tired of holding it up.
‘Is that Mum?!’ Chloe’s voice rang out from the hallway, excitement causing her pitch to rise an octave. Something else I had forgotten: how overt the love of a child is, especially when they are young and have not learned to hide it. When they were babies, I would leave the room for a few seconds and return to squeals of delight. Dylan stepped back and let me into the hallway. Chloe bounced on the spot and declared that she needed to show me a ‘cerfiticate’ she got for spelling. I didn’t correct her; I hoped in that moment that no one ever would and she could preserve a tiny piece of childhood for ever. I gave her a hug and told her I was proud.
‘Get your sister and tell her to come to the living room.’
Dylan and I waited on chairs in opposite corners of the room. The place was a mess. A small pile of pizza boxes lay next to my feet and half the glasses we owned were dotted around the room. I cleared my throat and stopped my eyes from settling in any one place. I wasn’t in a position to judge. Chloe bounded in; Ruby trailed behind her. Ruby seemed older, even more beautiful. I had looked away and she’d scrambled up the rungs of the ladder to womanhood. ‘Sit down, girls,’ I said. Chloe complied and, after a pause to demonstrate she was making the decision for herself, Ruby did the same. I left space for Dylan to speak; he folded his arms and leaned back into his seat. I was on my own. ‘Girls, I’m not going to be around for a while. Your dad’s told you I’m going to be away working for a bit.’ Ruby glanced at Dylan and they exchanged a look I couldn’t decipher. ‘After that, I’ll be back and we’ll plan something nice together. Maybe go away for a couple of weeks, but your dad and I …’ A memory forced its way into my consciousness. The three of them had sat in exactly the same way when I told them about the redundancy. I remember reminding myself to keep it together and reassuring them that everything would be OK, even though I didn’t believe it to be true. Every member of a family has a role to play and there are no understudies. I had to be strong; it was my part. ‘Your dad and I have some things we need to sort out. Things might be a bit muddled for a while. I’m not going to stay here, just for a little bit. But we still love you both, very much. Very, very much.’ Chloe looked from me to her father a few times, and when neither of us added anything further she smiled sweetly and threw herself on me.
‘As long as you come back and live here and you can come to my summer festival,’ she said into my neck.
I pushed her away gently so that we were face to face as I said, ‘That’s the thing, sweet pea. I might not move back here. But I will definitely, absolutely come to your festival.’ Chloe sucked on her bottom lip for a few seconds.
‘I guess across the road is OK,’ she said. ‘Can I go on the tablet?’
‘Sure,’ I said, and she ran off.
I turned to Ruby. Her head was down, and at first I thought she was laughing but then the laughs began to take on a hissing sound preceded by great gulps of air, and I understood that she was having a panic attack. I rubbed her back, and when she calmed I pulled her to me, and even though we were nearly the same size she climbed on to my lap and sobbed and sobbed.
Eddie taught me to ride a bike. He took me to the park three weekends in a ro
w. I was timid at first, conscious that I was learning too late and afraid that he would grow impatient with me. He didn’t. By the third weekend, I could ride the length of the main path, Eddie close behind shouting words of encouragement.
‘I did it!’ I shouted when we reached the gate. We didn’t hug much, but I was overcome with exhilaration and wrapped my arms around him.
‘You did it,’ said Eddie, dabbing at his forehead with a hanky. ‘Do you want to try again without me holding on?’
Working on the art show, I felt the way I had that day. All the time I’d thought I’d been working hard, but I’d had other people holding me up. In the past, I would canvass opinions and replicate the work of others; now I had a deadline, and that meant decisions that I made quickly and without second-guessing myself. I made the decision to work from home, telling Carter it would help me avoid distractions. The lumpy sofa became my desk and the flat my temporary office. We would have two days in Berlin before the show, enough time to prepare and hopefully enough to find Frank.
I met Henry, Bettina and Nush in a local bar to finalize things a few days before we left. Henry was there early and, when he saw me, he pulled out a laptop.
‘Where’d you get that?’
‘It’s Dad’s – he doesn’t use it.’
‘How’s he doing?’
‘It’s kind of hard to tell. He’s not been doing much but I don’t think it’s the brain stuff, I think he’s depressed. I mean, that’s brain stuff but, yunno, different brain stuff.’ I made a note on my mental to-do list to visit him as soon as we were back. Bettina interrupted my thoughts.
‘Why are we meeting in the hood?’ she asked, brushing off her seat before sitting down.
Henry started to speak but I talked over him. ‘I met with an artist close to here. Possible choice for the second event. Let’s get this one in the bag though,’ I said, shooting him a threatening look.
‘Yes, let’s. I’ve got so many ideas. I didn’t really sleep last night – I look a state.’ She looked radiant. ‘And this must be Henry.’ She extended her hand. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you – none of it was very good.’ Henry had enough manners to look bashful.
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