The Closer You Get

by Mary Torjussen

“How’re things, Ruby?”

  “Oh, you know. Couldn’t be worse, really.”

  “Have you been drinking?”

  “I’ve just been fired,” I said. “I’ve got the right to have a drink.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier. It was hectic all day and then I was busy with the kids. This is the first chance I’ve had to talk to you. How are you feeling?”

  I longed to talk to her about what had happened but I couldn’t. “Oh, okay. It was a shock, though.”

  “I bet. You’ve been there for ages.”

  “Eighteen months.” Long enough to think you know someone, I wanted to say. Long enough to trust him. To love him.

  “What did Tom say?”

  I hesitated. Of course Sarah didn’t know I’d left home. “Oh, not much. There are plenty more jobs out there.”

  “He’s right.” She chatted about her day; clearly they hadn’t got anyone to replace me yet, so a lot of the work I would normally do had landed on her shoulders.

  “Not the phone calls, though,” she said. “They’re going through to Paula. I don’t know why they’re not coming to me.”

  “What do you mean? Why isn’t Harry answering his own phone?”

  “Oh, he wasn’t there. Didn’t I tell you? He won’t be in this week.”

  I felt a huge sense of relief. There was an explanation for this after all. “What? Has he had an accident?”

  “An accident?” She laughed. “Oh no, nothing like that. He’s gone on holiday.”

  “What?”

  “Yes. Jane came in this morning to thank us for her leaving present. She didn’t have the chance to speak to everyone on Friday. She said Harry was going on a lovely romantic holiday with his wife.”

  I could hardly believe what I was hearing. “But he didn’t say anything about that to me.”

  “That’s exactly what I said to Jane. I told her we knew nothing about it, and she said he’d kept it quiet because he wanted it to be a surprise for Emma. Apparently they left on Friday night and they’re away for a week.”

  I was about to interrupt, to say that they couldn’t have gone away because I’d seen lights on in their house when I was parked there on Saturday night, watching, but stopped myself. She’d think I was a stalker. And then it registered: he must have set up the lights to come on automatically. His car wasn’t there. They’d gone off in that, together. I knew he hadn’t left home—obviously—but to think he was on holiday with her instead, while I was driving myself crazy on my own in the hotel, was like a punch in the gut.

  “It must be great to be able to take off whenever you want, mustn’t it?” said Sarah.

  My mind was racing. “Yes. That must be nice,” I said through gritted teeth, when it was clear a response was expected.

  “It’s lovely. So romantic. It’s to celebrate his wife being pregnant.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Ruby

  I don’t know how I got through the rest of the phone call. I knew I couldn’t call again to ask Sarah about Harry: Why would I? I doubted I would see much of her; we didn’t meet that often outside of work, though we’d been good friends in the office. And she and her husband were very hospitable, always having friends around for dinner and for parties, though Tom rarely wanted to go. How could she introduce me? Oh, this is my friend Ruby. She dumped her husband to be with a married man, who in turn dumped her! Now, who shall I sit her next to? I could just imagine the way they’d look at me. They’d think I was the enemy of civilized society. So this was my only chance to find out about Harry and Emma.

  “I didn’t realize they were having a baby,” I said, trying to keep my voice under control. I forced myself to add, “How lovely. He’ll be a great father.”

  “He will.” I could almost hear her settling down for a good gossip. She’d kill me if she knew I was keeping such a huge secret from her. “There’s always been talk about children.”

  “There has?” I managed to say. “I hadn’t heard anything.”

  “It was probably before your time. You weren’t at the last Christmas party, were you? She was there and she wasn’t drinking. We all assumed she was pregnant, but didn’t hear anything more about it.”

  I hadn’t gone to the party. We’d agreed we’d never manage to keep our affair secret if I had. I’d given my excuses, saying that we had a prior engagement. Harry told me after the holidays that he’d been bored and miserable without me that Christmas. He told me he’d rushed back to work.

  “I didn’t realize,” I said. The strain of trying to sound normal was immense and my head was throbbing already. “But then, why would I? I’ve never even met her.”

  “Yeah, she doesn’t come to the office as much nowadays. I think her business is doing well, so I suppose she’s too busy. Haven’t you seen a photo of her, though? She’s very attractive. Stunning, really.”

  I knew that already from seeing her on social media. I caught a glimpse of myself in the long mirror on the wall of the hotel room; stunning wasn’t the word I’d use to describe myself right now. I was a mess.

  I made some excuse and got off the phone. It was almost dark now and I sat by the window in the armchair and looked out at the road that ran along the front of the hotel. It had been raining earlier and drops still ran down the windows and the lights of the cars were blurred, though that could have been my tears. I brought my knees up to my chest, hugging them tight. So Emma was pregnant. That had been my dream for so many years and I’d almost accepted that it would never come true for me. Now she didn’t just have the man I wanted, she was having his child, too.

  Harry hadn’t tried to contact me. He hadn’t even thought of me. He’d just discarded me like I was nothing to him.

  My body was tight with panic. What had I done? I’d lost my past when I walked out on Tom. I’d lost my future, too; I had no job, no partner. No money. Tom earned a lot more than I did; we had separate bank accounts but a shared one for bills. We paid half each, which didn’t leave me much for savings. And now I was going to have no money coming in.

  “Don’t worry about money,” Harry had said when we talked about living together. “I’ll look after you.”

  “I don’t need looking after,” I’d said. “It’s just that I’ll be broke until the house is sold. After that I’ll be fine.”

  He kissed me. “Ruby, don’t even give it a second thought.”

  I really shouldn’t have listened to a word he said. I called him again. Straight to voice mail and yes, despite everything his voice still made me weak, though furious, too. I jabbed my phone to end the call before I said something I’d regret and just then my phone beeped. It was Tom. As I read the message I felt a moment of panic that he was psychic.

  Just spoken to Henry at work who’s trying to sell his house. He said the market’s slow at the moment. He was told it could be months before it sells x

  I could feel my blood pressure rise at the thought of not having a home or a job. I needed somewhere to live. I couldn’t stay in the hotel for much longer. When he booked it, Harry had paid for a week and I couldn’t afford to stay there much longer once that time was up.

  “I’ll book it for the week and then see how it goes,” he’d said. “We’ll look out for an apartment straightaway. We can rent while we’re deciding where to buy.” He’d sent me some links to huge riverside apartments in Liverpool, others with views over the River Dee. “What do you think of these? They’re all available immediately.”

  I thought of them now, those split-level warehouse lofts with their Scandinavian lighting and on-site gyms and twenty-four-hour concierges. What was all that about, tempting me with luxury living then dumping me without warning? That was another thought to add to the burning sense of injustice I’d felt over the last few days. Then my phone beeped again with another message from Tom.

 
We didn’t have the chance to talk about money before you left. I’ve transferred some to your savings account. Let me know if you need more x

  I frowned. He knew my savings account was in name only. I’d had to borrow from him in the past, so he’d known I didn’t have a stash of money. Then my phone beeped with yet another message from him. He was messaging me more now than when we were together. It surprised me; I’d thought he’d ignore me.

  I hope you’re OK x

  I sat back on the armchair and held a cushion to my chest, watching the cars passing by. I started to think about Tom and where it had all gone wrong. It was hard to reconcile the man I’d met with the man I’d left, but now I saw the man I’d loved and married emerge again. But then those thoughts disappeared as I remembered the last time I’d seen Harry. Was he just stringing me along? Had he sent me those apartment links knowing we’d never live there and that I would have burned my bridges at home? He knew I had no money! He had to know I’d be homeless. I thought of him coming back from his holiday, of his face falling when he saw someone else at my desk. He’d be furious when he realized I’d been fired.

  I tried his number again but stopped when I heard him say, “Hi.” I didn’t leave a message. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  Later, I realized that Tom’s messages were on WhatsApp and he would have seen that I’d read them. I sent him a brief message:

  Thanks.

  He must have been watching out for my reply, because his came immediately.

  Any time. Take care, babe x

  I stared down at the message. He was calling me babe again? Despite myself I felt that familiar feeling of pleasure that I always had when Tom was nice to me. I’d felt it all the time in the early days, but much less often toward the end. Hardly ever, really. Yet each time he was nice, I felt that warm glow of approval and just wanted more of it. I shook my head. I had to stop thinking like that. I’d moved away; there was no way I should move back. I wanted to challenge him, to ask him what he was playing at, but then I thought of the way he could be if I did that and decided to leave it. I could hardly complain that he was being too nice to me.

  The evening was still warm outside. The bedroom window would open only a couple of inches, so I dragged the table to the window and got out my laptop. I spent a couple of hours sending my résumé to employers in the area. I was just about to find something to watch on Netflix when my phone pinged. I jumped at the sound. It was Tom again.

  Ruby, your mum’s just called on the landline. Thought I’d warn you—she’s calling you in a minute x

  Oh no.

  Exactly one minute later my phone rang and I winced. When I reluctantly accepted the call, all I could hear was the sound of sobbing. I sighed and went to flick the kettle on. I was in for a long call. I put the phone on loudspeaker, made some coffee, and opened a packet of biscuits.

  “Hi, Mum.” More sobbing. I stirred the coffee and chose one of the biscuits. Mmm, shortbread. My favorite. I ate it before saying anything more. “Are you okay? Have you fallen? Do you need me to get help?”

  She gave a loud sniff that put me right off my coffee, then said, “I have never been so ashamed.”

  If I’d been at her house right now, I would’ve tiptoed around her trying to make everything all right, but I was broke and alone and homeless, and suddenly I thought, Hang on, I am the one with the problem here, not her!

  So I said, “Oh no, what have you done?”

  “It’s not what I’ve done, it’s what you’ve done. I’ve just had that poor man on the phone. Crying, he was. Said you’d left him and he didn’t know why. I couldn’t believe it! I only saw you a month ago and you said nothing to me.”

  Funny, that. I wondered for a second about Tom. He hadn’t wasted much time getting sympathy from her. Had he really been upset? For the first time I thought of him in the house on his own, sitting there in the evenings without anyone to talk to. He didn’t have many friends, just colleagues he’d sometimes go for a drink with. He’d never lived alone; it must have seemed very strange. Lonely. I knew he’d be drinking more than he should, then stopped myself. What he did now had nothing to do with me.

  “And that poor son of his.” She gave a heavy sigh. “Having another broken home.”

  I wanted to tell her there was a common denominator involved here and it wasn’t me, but there was no point. Women didn’t leave men. That was the rule my mother lived by. They should not just abandon their husbands. They should forgive and forget and maybe encourage the man into a hobby that took him out of the house, preferably every evening and weekend.

  “How’s Dad?” I asked, interrupting my mother’s prophecy that Josh would end up on the streets, a drug addict, unemployed: helpless and hopeless because I’d walked out on his father. She hadn’t asked how I was or even where I was. This was her problem, not mine.

  “He’s devastated,” she said. She started to cry again. “We both are. I don’t know how you could do this to us.”

  In the background I could hear my dad asking where all the chocolate biscuits had gone to. Like me, he was clearly finding food a comfort in his hour of need.

  “At least we’ll be spared the shame for a while,” my mother continued. “Your sister’s invited us to stay. We’re leaving next week, on Monday. ‘Get an open return,’ she said. ‘Stay as long as you like.’”

  My sister, Fiona, lived in Australia now. That invitation must have been ripped out of her. I knew she would have told them to get an open ticket because she wanted the chance to tell our mother to leave at a moment’s notice.

  “Mum, would you mind if I stayed at your house while you’re away? I could look after your plants and keep the house safe.”

  “Keep the house safe! I couldn’t trust you with a key. Not after what happened last time.”

  “Last time” was twenty years ago when I’d been mugged in broad daylight and their house keys were in my purse.

  “It would make things so much easier for me.” I thought of looking for a flat, of spending money I didn’t have. I didn’t feel particularly at home at my parents’ house now, but it would be a lot better than a rental. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

  “No, you won’t,” she said. “We’ll lock up ourselves, thank you. We might be away months. I know Fiona misses us. And anyway, what would I tell the neighbors?”

  “What’s it got to do with them?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t want you bumping into Mrs. Jennings. Telling her all your business. None of hers have given her any trouble. And here you are, about to be divorced and not even any children to show for it.”

  Tears stung my eyes then, as she surely knew they would, at the thought of those nights I’d spent each month, hoping and praying that I’d get pregnant. She knew about that; I’d been stupid enough to confide in her. She’d told me that some women weren’t made to be mothers. It had taken a long time to forgive that.

  “I have to go,” I said.

  She started to remonstrate but I pressed the End button and, as if by magic, she disappeared.

  Later when I’d calmed down, a message came through from my dad.

  I’m sorry, pet. You know what your mum’s like x

  I did, and I knew what he was like, too. I loved him, but he let her get away with such bad behavior. He pacified her, as though his role in life was to smooth things over when she rode roughshod over other people. It had taken me so long to realize that I was like him. I didn’t reply to my dad’s message. I didn’t know what to say to him.

  Just as I was getting ready for bed another message came through. It was Tom.

  Hope you’re feeling OK now. Don’t let her get you down x

  And despite everything, for a moment I was comforted. Tom was the only person who knew what my mum was really like. She put on a convincing act for my friends who’d met her and I’
d never said anything different to them, knowing they’d believe what they saw firsthand rather than what they heard from me. Though I’d talked to Harry about her, he didn’t know her, had never seen the look of frustration and hurt on my face when I was with her.

  I looked at my watch. It was after eleven o’clock. I thought of Tom in our bed, lying on goose-down pillows and covered with a quilt as light as a cloud. I thought of the gray silk throw that was draped on the bedpost and the soft lights and the woolen rugs, and the en suite with its power shower for two. And then I looked around my hotel room. It was nice enough, but I was alone here. Not just alone. Homeless. Jobless.

  I couldn’t help thinking I’d made the biggest mistake in the world.

  CHAPTER 11

  Ruby

  The next morning I was up early. I had two goals: to find somewhere to live and to get another job. By nine o’clock I was back at Mersey Recruitment, the agency that had found me the job at Sheridan’s.

  When I walked in, every eye was on me and instantly I realized they all knew why I was there. My face flamed. I walked up to the manager’s desk. Kourtney O’Dwyer was a Canadian woman who’d married an Englishman and had settled here with him. She was the owner and manager of the agency; everything had to go through her.

  “Ruby,” said Kourtney. She was pouring a cup of coffee from the machine at the back of the room. “What a nice surprise.” When I’d first approached the agency after I was made redundant she was newly pregnant. She’d found me the job at Sheridan’s within a day, and I hadn’t seen her since. Now she was back off maternity leave, her body softer than before, but her eyes held the same hard, determined glint. I could only hope she didn’t look at her baby like that.

  I sat down opposite her. She ignored me for a few minutes, doing that thing people do when they want to show you exactly who’s more powerful in the conversation. It did the trick; I felt like I was shrinking in front of her.

  She didn’t offer me any coffee, but lifted her own cup and sipped. “What can I do for you?”