The Closer You Get

by Mary Torjussen

  “I was fired,” I said.

  “What?”

  “I got to work on Monday morning and was told they were terminating my contract.”

  “What? Who told you that?”

  “Eleanor Jones.”

  He nodded, his face pale. “I hadn’t realized she was in on this, too. Jane must have spoken to her before she left work that day. But why didn’t you e-mail me?”

  “Are you kidding? You didn’t turn up. You didn’t write. Then when I tried to call you, your phone was switched off. What kind of e-mail did you want, exactly?”

  “But I did write!” He sounded so frustrated. “I don’t understand why you didn’t get it.”

  “What time did you send it?”

  “About six o’clock. I remember looking at the time when I was writing it.”

  I thought back. “Tom sent a text from the train before that, and after I replied I turned the sound off on my phone in case he called me. I was so nervous that I knew he’d suspect something if he spoke to me.”

  “Does he know your password?”

  “No. No, of course not.”

  “So he can’t access your e-mail?”

  I stopped short. “Oh no. He had my iPad that day. He took it to London, to use on the train. And if you click on Gmail my in-box would open automatically; the username and password are stored there. I don’t use it for anything private. Just shopping, that sort of thing. But he doesn’t use Gmail. Why would he even open it?”

  Harry ignored this. We both knew why Tom would be checking my messages. “You have e-mail notifications on your phone, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but nothing came through. Just a second, I’m trying to think . . .” I sat quietly, thinking back to the day I’d left Tom. I’d muted my phone, not wanting to be distracted by messages. “I checked my phone while I was waiting for Tom to come home. There were no messages at all.”

  “But if he saw it first and deleted it, the notification would disappear off your phone,” Harry said. “What if he read it on the train and deleted it straightaway?”

  “But that would mean he knew I was leaving him.”

  * * *

  • • •

  The moment I said it, I knew it was true. Everything fell into place, the way Tom hadn’t shouted at me, hadn’t argued. And hadn’t asked whether I was involved with anyone else.

  He knew.

  And since I’d left him, everything had gone wrong.

  My mind raced as I thought back to the conversation that night. “I wondered why he didn’t ask why I was leaving.”

  “Why did he think you were going?”

  “I just told him I was unhappy. I was. He knew I was. I’d told him a hundred times.”

  “Didn’t he seem surprised?”

  I thought back to that day, the way Tom had reacted. “You know, he didn’t. But I thought that was because he knew I was unhappy. And since then he’s been lovely to me. I thought he’d learned a lesson when I left. That he missed me.”

  The thing was that I’d been so glad to get out of the house that I hadn’t given his reaction another thought and then, as soon as I got to the hotel, all I could think about was Harry.

  But now I remembered seeing the iPad in his briefcase before I left home. It was on show in his bag, like a huge red flag that was waving at me, and I hadn’t understood the significance. He must have loved that.

  And then I realized something else. If Tom had been reading my e-mails, he’d know about the jobs I’d applied for. I cringed. He would have seen the contract between the landlord and me; he would know where I lived, where I worked. He’d said nothing.

  I looked at Harry. I really wanted to talk to him, to tell him about the things that had happened since I’d left home. I wanted his help. But how could I trust him now?

  I believed him when he said he’d e-mailed me. I should have realized he’d do that. And I could understand why he’d stayed with Emma, hard though that was to accept. But ultimately he’d let me down. He wasn’t the man I’d thought he was.

  CHAPTER 61

  Ruby

  The next morning I woke just after six. The early-morning sun was pouring through my windows and the room was already warm. I kept my eyes closed tightly, not ready to face the day. I’d slept heavily and seemed to have stayed in one position all night. My limbs were stiff and aching, but I was too tired to move. I lay on one side and for a moment it felt as though there was a weight on the bed, as though someone was lying behind me, just inches away. In that half sleep I thought of Harry and how I’d slept in his arms that weekend we were in Paris. I’d never slept so well. Now in the dark warmth of my bed I moved just an inch backward, desperate to find him there. As I pushed back I felt something blocking me and my eyes snapped open. I sat up with a lurch. The pillows from the other side of the bed had moved down while I was sleeping and had been pressing against my back.

  In the pale light I saw the door was shut tight, a dining chair wedged under the handle. It was just as I’d left it the night before, when I was too frightened to sleep without protection. I tiptoed out of the bedroom and peered over the banister at the hallway below. There was another chair pressed against the front door. Last night I had been determined that nobody would get in without disturbing me. I felt stupid now. Paranoid.

  I was so grateful I didn’t have to go in to work and took a mug of coffee back to bed. As I sipped my drink I thought of Harry and wondered whether he was doing the same thing right now. I knew he’d be thinking of me, feeling guilty that I hadn’t known he was staying with Emma. I knew, too, that as he saw her that morning, saw her belly start to swell with their new life, he’d have no real regrets. Unlike me.

  I reached for my phone and signed up to Instagram again. I wanted to see the photos that Emma had posted of her home. Their home. I saw their kitchen; they’d had it remodeled last year and she’d posted before-and-after photos. The kitchen table stood near their patio windows and I guessed he’d be sitting there right now, looking out at their garden. He might well be tormented but I bet he was there all the same, eating toast from the toaster I could see on the counter, drinking coffee from the French press that was almost out of shot. I scrolled and scrolled through those pictures until I wanted to cry and then I came to my senses and deleted the app yet again. Just like last time, I vowed I wouldn’t use it again. This was like heroin to me. I had to stop.

  After breakfast I couldn’t bear to be in my flat anymore. I didn’t feel safe there. Outside the sun was bright and full of promise for a long, hot day. I set off to walk along the river. It was pretty deserted down there at that time of the morning, with just the odd dog walker around, and I kept my head down and walked and walked for miles.

  I should have known Harry would have tried to warn me he wasn’t turning up that night. I should have known he wouldn’t let me down like that. I forced myself to think about whether I still loved him. I knew I had. Then I remembered something he’d said, shortly before he left the café.

  “Just because it didn’t last between us,” he’d said, holding my hand tightly. He and I both knew that this was the last time we’d touch each other. “Just because it didn’t last, it doesn’t mean it meant nothing to me. It meant everything, Ruby. For all those months you were the world to me.”

  I rubbed my eyes, determined not to cry again. I’d doubted him for so long. All those nights I’d spent after I’d left home, it was Harry who’d been on my mind. When I met him a year and a half ago I’d felt as though a light had come on in me and, when he didn’t turn up that night, I thought it had died. Now I wasn’t sure.

  But I didn’t want a man who could leave his pregnant wife. I knew that. We shouldn’t have had an affair, but I knew that I wouldn’t have gone near him if he’d had children. Envy shot through me. I wanted Emma’s life.

  Normally I would have called Sara
h to chat to her but those days were gone. Then I thought of Oliver. He was a good friend. I would talk to him, tell him everything, and ask for his advice. I sent him a message:

  Hi, are you free tonight? x

  He replied immediately. Sorry, I’m off to Ibiza for ten days this afternoon. I’ll be in touch when I get back x

  My heart sank. I couldn’t talk to Sarah; I couldn’t forgive her for lying to me. I had to tackle Tom, but needed someone behind me, someone to back me up.

  Oliver sent another message: I’m free for an hour now, if you like? Where are you?

  I answered: I’m walking down by the river, near the lighthouse. I felt so weak right then. Can you come?

  Wait there, he wrote. I won’t be long.

  Minutes later his car pulled up. He jumped out. “Oh, Ruby, you look awful. What’s the matter?”

  He sat next to me on the bench and hugged me. It felt so comfortable and warm, so welcoming, and I burst into tears.

  He touched my arm. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know where to start,” I said.

  “Start at the beginning. What’s happened?”

  I took a deep breath. “You remember I told you I thought I’d met someone?”

  “Harry?”

  I stared at him. “Did I tell you his name?”

  “You mentioned it, but I was out in Liverpool last night and bumped into Sarah and her husband.”

  “I’d forgotten you knew her.”

  “They were at Tom’s birthday party last year, remember? She seemed angry with you. She told me you’d left home to be with your boss, but he’d dumped you.”

  “He didn’t dump me!”

  “He didn’t turn up and you never heard from him again. That sounds like you were dumped.”

  “Well,” I said, my face smarting. “I saw him by chance yesterday and do you know what he said?”

  Oliver frowned. “Oh God, you’re not going back to him, are you?”

  “No. No, of course not. His wife’s having a baby. That’s why he stayed with her.”

  “And they say romance is dead.” He shook his head. “You can do better than that, Ruby.”

  I didn’t think I could, that was the trouble.

  “He told me that he’d e-mailed me to tell me he couldn’t leave his wife,” I said. “I didn’t get the message. Tom had my iPad that day. I think he read Harry’s e-mail and deleted it before I could see it.”

  “So Tom knew that you were being dumped?” He saw my face. “Sorry, I mean he knew that the guy you were seeing wasn’t going to leave home that night and yet he let you leave home without knowing that?”

  “Yes, exactly that. He didn’t say a word. I noticed that he hadn’t asked whether I was leaving for someone else. I was glad at the time, of course, but afterward, when I thought about it, it did seem strange.”

  “Do you wish you hadn’t left home?”

  I thought about it for a while. “No,” I said slowly. “I wasn’t happy with Tom. And just when things were really bad, I met Harry. I knew that I needed to leave Tom. That was true whether Harry stayed with me or not.”

  “Wow. I didn’t know any of that was going on.” He took a deep breath. “I always thought you’d leave Tom one day. I just didn’t think it would be like that.”

  “You did?” I wondered whether he’d noticed the moods, the way I smiled less when I was with Tom, the way I’d tense up and find it hard to breathe at times. The way I came to life when I met Harry.

  “Yes. I hoped you would.” When I looked at him, surprised, his face was pink. “To be honest, I thought we might get together sometime.” He must have seen my confusion. “You and me.”

  I felt a moment of utter panic. I’d never thought of Oliver as anything more than a friend, but if I rejected him now, I’d be left with no one.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve never thought about it.”

  “We get on really well, Ruby. We could take things slowly. See how it goes.”

  He leaned toward me and I thought he was going to kiss me. Just then my phone beeped. Automatically I glanced over at it.

  “Okay,” he said. “I get it.” He jumped up. “Are you still hoping Harry will come back to you? You’re wasting your time.” He got into his car and drove off without another word. I stared after him. He had now joined that growing band of people to avoid.

  I looked down at my phone. It was a message from Sarah.

  Thanks very much for that, Ruby. Harry has told me there isn’t a future for me at Sheridan’s.

  Immediately I was hot with anger. I replied, Don’t blame me! You lied to me. You said you’d given him my letter.

  Within seconds another message appeared. You think he wanted your stupid letter? I told you, he read it and threw it in the bin.

  I smarted at the thought of this and knew I’d never know the truth. Was Sarah lying to me, to hurt me? Or had Harry read the letter and just discarded it now that I wasn’t any use to him?

  Sarah must have been really fired up because another message came through.

  And who do you think fired you? Eleanor? Really? Harry’s her boss; she couldn’t just fire his PA. Eleanor told me yesterday that as soon as he found out Emma was pregnant, he told her to terminate your contract. He told her that you hadn’t worked there long enough to have any rights and when she said you could sue, he said he knew you wouldn’t do that. Don’t you get it? He doesn’t want you, Ruby.

  CHAPTER 62

  Ruby

  For a moment I thought my heart had stopped, then it banged hard in my chest and I made a noise as though the air had been knocked out of me. I felt so ashamed then, so humiliated. I went back to my flat, my eyes lowered and my shoulders hunched. I didn’t want to meet anyone’s eye, to talk to anyone. I needed to be alone, to lick my wounds in private.

  Harry had never said a word to me about firing me. He’d sat there in the café, and yes, I’d noticed he was pale when I told him I was fired, but I thought that was because he was angry. Was his response guilt instead? Or fear?

  Had he told me in the e-mail he’d sent that evening that I’d have to leave my job, or had he left it to Eleanor to deal with? Had he thought of me that Monday morning, turning up at work only to be fired? I found it so hard to reconcile that with the way he was with me. There had been no apology from him in the café. No excuses. He must have been so relieved that I’d been stupid enough to think Eleanor had done that herself. I’d always known I was a good liar, that I could fake reactions, keep an impassive face. I hadn’t realized that Harry was the same.

  I wanted to get away. I couldn’t cope. I was just about to phone my dad in Australia, to plead with him to let me stay in his house for a while, just to get away from here, when I heard a bang on the front door. I leaped to my feet.

  I ran to the top of the stairs and looked down, expecting yet another envelope through my door. There was nothing there. I looked out of the kitchen window, which was above the front door, and saw a small white van parked by the side of the road. A man dressed in overalls was standing beside it, looking up at my flat. When I went down, he introduced himself as Sean.

  “Gill’s asked me to call round,” he said. “You want a bolt for your front door?”

  “Yes, yes. Thank you. Could you change the locks while you’re here?”

  “Lost your keys? I’ll have to charge for that.”

  “No,” I said. “I think someone’s been coming into my flat.”

  “That’s odd. I change the locks after every tenant leaves so that they can’t get back in. I was here just a few weeks ago. Is that when you moved in?”

  “Yes. I’ve not been here long.”

  “Phone Gill while I put the lock on,” he said. “If she agrees, I’ll do it and won’t charge.”

  “My phone’s upstairs,” I said. “Won�
��t be a minute.”

  I called Gill from my bedroom. “Sean’s here to put a bolt on the front door,” I said. “Thanks for sending him over. I’ve asked him to change the locks as well but he said I had to check with you. I’m happy to pay.”

  “Has something happened?” she asked. “First it was a bolt, now the locks. Are you okay?”

  “I thought someone was in my flat on Wednesday night. I woke up and heard the front door click.”

  She took a deep breath. “Oh my God, that’s my worst nightmare. Of course you can get the locks changed.”

  “Thanks. It’s hard, living on my own. If there’s someone with you, you’ve got backup. It’s terrifying when you’re on your own.”

  “Wasn’t your boyfriend there then?”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  “But you said . . .” She sounded confused. “You asked for a spare key for your boyfriend.”

  “What?”

  “You e-mailed me. Hold on, let me check.” She was quiet for a few moments. “Here it is. On June twenty-seventh. Wasn’t that the day you moved in? You sent an e-mail asking for a spare key for your boyfriend.”

  I remembered that day. It was the day I’d gone to Manchester on that wild-goose chase and come home to find my dresses hanging up.

  “Are you there?” she said. “Ruby, are you still there?”

  I tried to pull myself together. “I didn’t send that e-mail. Did you see the person who picked up the key?”