by Jane Fallon
‘It’s just … it’s too much …’
‘I know. But the twins are grown up, more or less …’
‘Maybe I can get them to come home for a weekend. Maybe Nick and I can talk to them – together, you know, lessen the impact a bit.’
Lydia isn’t sure it’s a good idea for Nick to be in the same room as Georgia at the moment. She’s relying on them not having any in-depth conversations any time soon. Of course, she hasn’t really thought through what she’d do if he decided to replay their conversation from the pub line by line for Georgia’s benefit. Deny, deny, deny is as far as she’s got. He’s hardly seen as a reliable witness at the moment. ‘Mmm. You don’t really want them to see the atmosphere between the two of you. I’m not sure that’s such a great idea.’
Georgia is quiet for a second. ‘You might be right. So, where is it tonight?’
Lydia fills her in. When they’ve said goodbye she snaps a selfie. Filters it. Crops it. Posts it on Instagram: Another fun night out!!! She looks good. She looks like a woman who, as the hashtag says, is leading her best life.
CHAPTER 26
Joe is home for the weekend. I wasn’t expecting him, didn’t have time to prepare him for the fact that his father wouldn’t be here. I just answered the front door and there he was, having forgotten his key as usual. God knows what he would have done if no one was in. Shivered on the doorstep waiting. Maybe taken himself round to Anne Marie’s. All his friends are away at uni. My first reaction is utter joy at seeing him there – my handsome, six-foot-tall baby. And then, of course, I panic. Nick and I still haven’t agreed on what or when to tell the kids. I need to call him.
‘Oh my God,’ I squeal, grabbing him into a hug. ‘What a lovely surprise.’ I don’t want to let go. The familiar feel of him floors me. He smells faintly of cigarettes and something clean and citrusy. It suddenly hits me that maybe something is wrong. ‘Are you OK? Is everything OK?’
He untangles himself from my arms. Kisses the top of my head. ‘Everything’s fine. I just thought I’d pop home. Get my washing done.’
‘Did you bring washing? Give it to me. Let me feel as if I have a purpose in life again …’
He laughs. ‘Of course I didn’t. There’s a machine in halls. Where’s the dog?’
‘Sleeping. He’s the world’s worst guard dog.’ He follows me in, dumping his holdall on the floor. We’re halfway down the stairs to the kitchen when Igor wakes up and storms to my defence, pinning Joe against the wall.
‘Jesus, Mum. Couldn’t you have found a bigger one?’
‘He’s a softy,’ I say, just as Igor launches a licking offensive. It’s as if he recognizes that Joe is family.
I flick the kettle on, trying to think fast. Maybe I can fudge it, tell him his father’s away on a business trip. And then I think about him finding out that I lied, and I know I can’t. He slumps on to a kitchen chair, all arms and legs. It’s as if he and Igor are stars in a film with a set that’s just a tiny bit too small for them. The result of someone scrimping on the budget by scaling everything down just a fraction. Almost imperceptible. His hair has grown since I saw him at Christmas. It suits him.
‘How’s Brighton?’ I say pointlessly, trying to buy some time. I speak to him pretty much every other day, so I know he’s having fun. And even if I didn’t I could tell all was fine within a minute of clapping eyes on him. Joe wears his mood on the surface like an overcoat. He always has.
‘Yeah. Good.’
‘Are you here for the whole weekend?’ I say hopefully.
He gives me a big grin. ‘I have to leave first thing Monday. Basically I’ve run out of food so, you know, I thought I could get in a couple of days’ eating here.’ He picks up Igor’s giant cow toy and they wrestle with it for a bit. I should warn him that he’ll want to give up many hours before the dog will get bored. Igor is foaming at the mouth with determination. ‘You meant to get one with rabies, right?’
‘Of course,’ I say. ‘It’s very in at the moment.’
‘Gwyneth Paltrow recommends canine drool as a rejuvenating face serum, apparently.’
‘Oh. I bought one of her candles. “This smells like my dog’s farts”.’
That gets him. He laughs. I’ve won.
‘What time’s Dad back?’
Ah. I put his mug of tea down in front of him and sit in the seat opposite. I need to be truthful, but I need to try and underplay it at the same time.
‘Dad’s … um … he’s staying at Dom’s for a bit …’
Joe, of course, picks up immediately that something is very wrong. I never could hide anything from him. It’s as if he tuned himself to my feelings when he was a baby and never tuned out. And Dom only lives in Somers Town. It’s not as if Nick would have gone there on holiday. ‘Right …’
‘Just for a few days. If you ring him I’m sure he’ll come over though …’
‘What’s going on, Mum?’
‘I’m … We’re … having a little break. It’s nothing …’
‘A break? You and Dad? What the fuck? How long’s he been gone for?’
I reach out a hand and put it over one of his. ‘Only since last weekend. We need to sort a few things out, that’s all.’
He pulls his hand away. Sweeps it back over his head in the exact same way his father always does. ‘What’s happened? Everything was fine at Christmas. Wasn’t it? Or were you putting on an act for me and Ede? Does she know?’
I shake my head. ‘No. We … we were going to tell you both. It only just happened. We were waiting to see … you know …’
‘So, what? He just upped and left? You kicked him out? You’ve secretly hated each other for years but you were biding your time till we left home? What?’
‘No! Not that.’ I hate seeing that his mood has shattered. Shit, we should have laid the groundwork for this. I don’t want to turn him against his father – Joe has very black-and-white ideas of what’s right and wrong. Edie has always been better at seeing the grey areas – but I don’t want to take the blame for this either. ‘Something happened. Your dad …’
‘Has he got someone else? No way. I don’t believe it.’ He stands up, sits down again.
‘I don’t know if he still … he did. I think. Well, I know, but he won’t … He doesn’t want to talk about it …’
‘And he just left? After twenty-whatever years? That’s it?’
I shrug. ‘I don’t … It’s complicated.’
He stands up again. He looks, at the same time, so grown up, tall and strong, and like a little boy. Confused. Shattered. ‘What the fuck is complicated? Dad’s seeing some woman? Fucking hell, Mum.’
‘I know …’
He comes round to my side of the table, leans down and grabs me into a hug.
‘We didn’t want to say anything till … He’s still insisting it’s not true,’ I say when I emerge.
Joe sits on the chair next to mine. ‘You don’t know for sure?’
‘No. I mean yes. I do. But Dad isn’t ready to discuss it. He won’t … I can’t get him to …’
‘Wait … So you didn’t, like, catch him in the act or find an incriminating text or anything?’
I shake my head. Tell him the same potted version I told Lydia, leaving out Patricia.
‘So it might not be true!’ he says, clutching at straws, when I get to the end. Neither of the kids has any idea about Nick’s earlier indiscretion; I made sure of that. They have no idea what he’s capable of.
I sigh. ‘It is. I believe the person who told me one hundred per cent.’
Joe leans over and grabs his coat. Igor jumps to attention and Joe reaches down and ruffles his head. ‘This is ridiculous. I’ll be back later. For dinner or whatever. I’ll call.’
‘Where are you going?’ I say with a sinking feeling. I think I know the answer.
‘Dom’s. He really is there, right?’
I nod. Do I actually know that’s true? I only have Nick’s word for it. Checking with Dom woul
d be too humiliating and, besides, he lives by some sad bro code that would mean he’d lie for Nick in a heartbeat if he thought he was about to be caught out doing something wrong. ‘So far as I know anyway.’
‘No way is he going to be able to lie to me if I ask him straight out,’ he says, leaning down and kissing me. ‘I won’t be long.’
I know I should try to stop him but I also know I’d fail. And, to be fair, his father does deserve to be put on the spot. He got us into this mess. For Joe’s sake I text him though.
Joe home unexpectedly. I had to tell him. He’s on his way to see you.
Less than a minute later I get a reply.
What did you tell him?? That you’ve kicked me out for no reason???
This is not about you. Just think about what’s best for Joe. I’m going to call Edie before he does.
Her phone goes straight to voicemail and I know I’m too late, that Joe will have phoned her on the way to the tube. While I wait I make up Joe’s bed. His and Edie’s rooms are in the eaves, a shared bathroom between them, the toiletries lined up with rigid precision, his on the left, hers on the right. Edie’s room is a riot of colour, reds and purples. Fairy lights and photographs. A clutter of hairbands and bracelets. Joe’s is painted a steely grey with white furniture. No less cluttered but somehow more airy. There’s a gap where his turntable used to be and his prized vinyl collection, now adorning his student accommodation. I pick up my mobile to try Edie again and see that Nick has sent another message: Don’t try and make me look like the villain in this.
Grow up, Nick, I send.
CHAPTER 27
Lydia can’t believe it when her phone rings and it’s Nick. She’s had enough of the graffiti artist’s exhibition. Not that it’s not good – it is. But she’s tired and Wes is a bit of a bore … No, that’s not fair, he’s not a bore; she’s just not interested in what he has to say. It’s not his fault. If she fancied him she’d probably be hanging on his every word. She knows she’s not exactly being sparkling company herself but – now she can see a glimmer of hope in the future – these dates are beginning to seem more and more pointless. She’s taken a few good pictures. Urban and edgy. Warm Prosecco and a scuffed skateboard someone has left in a corner become a juxtaposition of privilege and grit when photographed together. A snapshot of an enviable life. But, if she’s being honest, she’s tired. Her feet hurt. She wants the evening to be over. The memory is always far more interesting than the reality.
‘Sorry, I need to get this,’ she says to Wes who, even though he was warned, is clearly finding the evening a bit of a washout too. She indicates that she’s going out on to the street as she says ‘Hi!’ Of course that’s a mistake. Her coat is in the cloakroom and it’s sub freezing out there, so she hovers in the doorway, trying to keep the shiver out of her voice.
‘Sorry, are you out?’ he says, and she would have recognized his voice anywhere even if his name hadn’t popped up on her screen.
‘Yes, but wishing I wasn’t. How are you doing?’
‘Joe just came round,’ he says. ‘Georgia told him everything apparently.’
Lydia feels a rush of guilt. She adores Joe and Edie. Always has. She’s godmother to both of them. They’ll need her when they find out their father has left for good. She’s always been a good shoulder to cry on and, so long as there’s a decent enough gap between him leaving and – hopefully – shacking up with her, she still can be. Better for them that he ends up with someone they already call family. ‘Why did she do that?’
‘I guess it wasn’t entirely her fault. He came home unexpectedly. Wanted to know where I was. But she’s told him I’ve been having an affair. I don’t … This is like some kind of nightmare that I can’t wake up from. Why would she do that?’
Lydia sees an in. Maybe the night – the hair, the make-up, the sleekly fitting boho dress – isn’t a write-off after all. ‘Where are you now? At Dom’s?’
‘Yes. He just left. Joe. I thought he was never going to speak to me again.’
‘I’m coming over. Is there a decent pub nearby?’ She doesn’t want to run into Dom. He once made a pass at her in the days when they would occasionally – disastrously – meet as a four, and he hadn’t taken it well when she’d rebuffed him. Then, out of the blue, years later, he’d called her in the wake of his separation and tried to persuade her to go on a date with him. She wasn’t keen on being used as a middle finger up to his ex-wife, she’d told him, and he’d basically told her to go fuck herself and that he wouldn’t be interested in her if she were the last woman alive. ‘It’d be like sleeping with an ironing board,’ he’d said, angry with embarrassment. ‘Trust me,’ she’d said calmly. ‘It would be more like sleeping with the iron if you ever put a finger anywhere near me.’
Nick doesn’t even argue. ‘The Lord John Russell’s OK. Marchmont Street.’
‘I can be there in half an hour,’ she says.
‘Great. Thanks.’
She’s tempted just to leave without even bothering to say goodbye to Wes, but he doesn’t deserve that and, besides, she doesn’t want to have to give up power yoga just to avoid bumping into him. She pushes her way back in through the crowds of hipsters and would-be Banksys and finds him chatting to a couple by the bar.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she says breathlessly. ‘I’ve got a bit of an emergency. I have to go.’
His face falls. ‘Is everything OK? Can I do anything?’
He’s a nice bloke, she realizes. Kind. ‘No. Thanks. You stay.’
‘Only if you’re sure. I’ll come and help you find a cab.’
He walks her out without his coat, having waited for her to collect hers. He asks her again if she wants him to come with her but she tells him it makes no sense, he lives much nearer to here than to where she’s going. ‘Can I call you?’ he asks just before he shuts the taxi door. ‘At least so I know you’re OK.’
‘Of course,’ she says. ‘I was having a lovely evening, thanks.’ She can let him down gently when the time comes. Maybe lay it on thick about whatever tonight’s emergency turned out to be. A sick family member. A suicidal friend. ‘I just don’t have the space in my head for a relationship right now.’ She can hear herself saying it. Regretful. It’s ridiculous really. There’s no reason not to go out with him again. No reason, that is, except Nick.
He’s standing at the bar with his back to her when she gets there, after a seemingly interminable journey with a cabbie who wanted to talk about bike lanes at every opportunity. ‘Empty, see?’ he said every time they turned a corner and there was a new one. ‘Fucking ridiculous, excuse my language.’ Shoulders hunched over in his big coat. Her heart flips. Is she really doing this? She’s just meeting a friend in need, she tells herself. The fact that she’s in love with him and he’s married to her best mate is neither here nor there.
‘Hey,’ she says. He turns round. There are shadows under his eyes and it almost looks as if he’s been crying. He gives her a weak smile.
‘Just in time. What can I get you?’
‘I think I’ll make my first one a Diet Coke,’ she says, laying the groundwork for a second drink. ‘I’ve had too much Prosecco already.’
‘Where were you?’
She fills him in on her date with Wes.
‘God, sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your evening,’ he says, handing her her drink. The pub is half empty and they have their pick of tables. She leads him towards an intimate two in a corner.
‘No. I was glad to get out of there. We’d pretty much run out of things to talk about.’
He drapes his coat over the back of his chair. ‘How was the show?’
She shrugs. ‘OK. Good. Not mind-blowing.’
There’s an awkwardness. She can feel it. She’s had this before when she’s liked someone and suddenly she can’t think of anything to say to them. She doesn’t want him to think she’s dull company even though, surely, after all these years of being friends, he must know that’s not usually true. She remembe
rs why he called her. Not for a date but a mercy mission.
‘So, tell me what happened. Joe just showed up?’
He nods. ‘I can’t believe Georgia would tell him like that. I mean … I know she had to say something, but the whole affair story? She must have known what that would do to him.’
Lydia nods. Clearly Georgia must have been put on the spot. And, although she would never want the kids to think badly of their father, she also wouldn’t want them to think that she was the one to blame. It was completely understandable. ‘It does seem … well, a bit unnecessary,’ she says now. She has to be careful not to bad-mouth Georgia. She just needs to drop enough insights to reinforce Nick’s own conclusions.
‘It’s completely out of order. Joe came round ready to rip me to shreds.’
‘Oh God, you poor thing. And him. I mean, both of you. I don’t know what is going on with her at the moment.’
He stares at the table. ‘You don’t think …?’ He exhales. ‘You don’t think she’s been wanting to break up and so she’s decided to use this as the excuse? Like maybe she never really got over …’ He leaves it hanging but she understands what he means. Felicity. The truth is that Lydia knows Georgia was over it. Had been for years. Nick had proved himself time and time again, even when he no longer needed to. But, of course, the fact of it was still there somewhere. Buried so deep it was all but forgotten until she helped to unearth t again.
‘No! No, I’m sure that’s not it. She obviously believes what this person’s telling her …’
‘Did you find out who it is yet?’
He looks up and she stares him dead in the eye. ‘No idea. She just keeps saying it’s someone who works at Diamond Leisure. Could be anyone. How did you leave it with Joe?’
‘OK, I think. I asked him just to believe me until he has definite proof that he shouldn’t and he agreed.’
‘I’m so sorry, Nick,’ she says, briefly touching his hand. ‘Let me get us another drink.’ She’s not leaving it up to him this time. ‘Same again?’