Sixty-Seven
When I got to the office, I sat down at my desk and turned on my computer. I tried to look at the GlobalCorp documents, but I was still numb. Harry’s door was open and I needed to tell him that I couldn’t do the presentation. I hadn’t seen him since I had run away after kissing him in New York, but he had texted me once he found out about Baba.
I misread the signals, Fi. I’m sorry about the things I said. I was horribly drunk, but that’s no excuse. Please can we forget about New York? I hope your father is better. Don’t worry about work. I hope we are still friends. Harry.
Since then, he had texted me to ask after Baba and then a couple of times to check some details about the GlobalCorp account. His texts were proper and friendly and I told myself that if I had made a mistake in kissing him, he could have made a mistake too. I was grateful that it would not have any impact on my job. I felt embarrassed but reassured that we had moved past New York.
I knocked on his door.
‘Good morning! You’re in early. I was just going to email you about the slides. How’s your father?’
I stayed standing inside his door, unable to speak.
‘Has something happened to him?’
He led me to the sofa by the window and sat next to me in a chair. He leaned forward and was about to reach for my hand, but then linked his hands in front of him.
‘Fi?’
I swallowed.
‘My father’s fine, thank you.’
I kept looking down. My hands were writhing in my lap, clutching each other, as if independently of me. I wanted to scream.
‘I can’t do the pitch.’
I struggled to get the words out. Harry was still a director. There was no valid excuse to miss a pitch as important as this one. I may as well have been handing in my resignation.
‘No problem. I can do it. Just email it to me. I know how hard you’ve worked on the pitch. Don’t worry about the meeting today – I’m more worried about you. What’s the matter?’
The train track flashed in my head. I saw the yellow line. My shoulders started shaking. Harry stood up and came back with some water.
‘Look, you’ve had a difficult week, but your dad’s going to be all right. Are you worried about what happened in New York? Don’t be. You were right. It was a moment of madness, the curse of the business trip. We just got carried away. Let’s forget it ever happened – and I promise you that it won’t affect your position here.’
I hung my head down.
‘What’s the matter? You can tell me anything, you know that.’
I didn’t know if that was true. He was my boss and Julia’s husband. He knew other parents at Brookwood High who knew me. His hand had been on my breast. He could hold whatever I told him against me when they decided on offering me the job. I had no choice, though. I had to get the words out of my body.
That was how Harry’s office, with its views of St Paul’s and grey linen sofas, became my confessional.
‘I tried to kill myself today.’
It was a whisper. Harry leaned forwards. He hadn’t heard me, I thought with relief. It had been a mistake to say it out loud. I had spoken the words. That was enough.
‘What happened? What did you do?’
It was too late. Now I had to carry on. He took my icy hand and rubbed it briskly.
‘I’m sorry, that came out wrong. It was a split-second craziness and I didn’t do anything. I’m not hurt. It’s just that a thought came into my head that I could jump in front of the next fast train while I was waiting at the platform and it frightened me. It’s probably just the stress of my father’s surgery, and the fact that I haven’t slept since I got back.’
He dropped my hand and stood up. His voice was deep when he spoke.
‘Are you all right? I’ll call Tom. Give me his number.’
When he mentioned Tom, I started to cry.
‘No, please, I don’t want him to know! I just got spooked because I had that thought. This won’t affect my permanent job will it? Please, please don’t fire me.’
‘Of course I won’t fire you. And we don’t need to call Tom if you don’t want. I’m glad you told me. It can be our secret. But why would you even think about harming yourself? You’re devoted to your family, to your children. What’s happened?’
He sat down next to me and waited.
Then, through my sobs, I told him everything.
Sixty-Eight
‘I’m going to transfer £50,000 into your account,’ said Harry when I’d finished.
He grabbed his phone and stood up. The initial rush of letting everything pour out had now settled into a cold pit of shame. Tears trickled down my face and onto my neck. This was a huge amount of money. What did he want in return?
He sat back down opposite me. ‘Fi? I’m doing this as your friend. Nothing else, OK?’
I wondered if I had spoken my fears out loud. I didn’t think so.
‘I’m sorry about my behaviour in New York. Neither of us wants to risk our marriages, and I don’t want to lose our friendship. Please let me do this for you.’
‘Harry, I can’t take that sort of money from you. It’s too much. I…’
‘I have the money; you know I do, and plenty more. I can’t just stand by and do nothing, not after what happened – almost happened – today.’
He passed me a tissue from a box on the coffee table and I wiped my face. The air conditioner hummed. I hadn’t asked him for the money. He had offered. I would have done the same for a friend, wouldn’t I?
‘Just give me your account details. The money will go through immediately.’
Harry had been my champion and my friend since I had started the job. The only reason I was hesitating was because of New York, but he seemed to regret that as much as I did. I had told him about deceiving my husband, tricking my parents out of their savings, and all my thoughts as I waited on platform six. He had continued to pat my back without missing a beat, as if soothing a child. I thought about the children: Harry’s money could keep their world intact.
His tone was brisk. ‘You don’t have to deal with this alone. Let me help.’
I ran my fingers through my hair and looked up. My voice was hoarse.
‘I’ll pay you back, I promise, Harry. As soon as I get my bonus. Thank you!’
He exhaled, as if he’d been holding his breath.
‘There’s no rush. Wait until you guys get back on your feet. Now, give me your bank details.’
He tapped the banking app on his phone and, within a minute, the money was in my account. It was like magic. The money that I had spent months chasing, agonising over, the money that had almost destroyed my marriage, taken away my peace of mind and even made me think the unthinkable that morning, had been at Harry’s disposal in an instant.
All he had done was place one fingertip on his phone screen…
‘The money’s in your account,’ he said.
I felt at once untethered and lost, light-headed without the weight of worry that had held me captive for months. I needed to be alone. I excused myself and walked slowly to the ladies, holding on to the walls as I made my way down the corridor, clutching my bag in one hand.
I took out my make-up case and looked in the mirror. My eyelids were twice their usual size and mascara streaks ran like black scratches, right down to my chin; my lip was split, as if I had been punched. I needed to erase any evidence of my tears before the others arrived. My hand trembled as I tried to unzip the make-up case. I gave up and held onto the sides of the sink, gripping the cold ceramic. I leaned forwards and looked in the mirror. My eyes stared back at me.
‘It’s true,’ I told my mirror-self. ‘It’s really happened.’
I closed my eyes. The new reality seeped into my head, expanding and exploding. It moved down my face, into my chest, down my arms and then my legs, dissolving the tension that had burned in every nerve ending for months. My body fizzed. I opened my eyes, and then, I smiled. I said a s
ilent ‘Thank you’ to God, promising to say my prayers when I got home.
*
When I got back to my desk, Harry placed a bowl of Teresa’s Rice Krispies in front of me. There was a thick layer of sugar sitting on top.
‘Eat this up like a good girl,’ he said.
‘Thank you, Harry. Look, you know I can’t tell Tom about this, but if he knew, he’d be so grateful too. You’ve been so kind. I still can’t believe it. Thank you for doing this.’
‘It’s only a bowl of Rice Krispies, Fi.’ He winked and we both laughed.
The others wouldn’t be in for another hour and I started to work on the presentation. As I went through the slides, I knew exactly what I needed to add and I felt a tingle of excitement as I tapped in the figures. The pitch was good and I had decided to attend it after all, even though Harry would present it. Everything seemed possible now that the money was in the account.
I was printing the slides twenty minutes later when Harry came out, carrying his raincoat. He called out to me as he went past my desk, ‘I’ll meet you and Sergio at GlobalCorp. I have another meeting now.’
I waved goodbye. He stopped when he was almost at the door, then walked back quickly.
‘Damn, I forgot some figures I need for this meeting. I’ve turned off my computer and my Uber’s here. Do you mind just looking it up on your computer for me, please?’
‘Of course,’ I said.
I brought up the documents that he needed on the screen while he stood behind me, scanning the numbers.
‘There’s too much here to jot down. Do you mind emailing it to me? Just put “Info from Fi – confidential” in the subject, so I can find it easily.’
I emailed it as fast as I could. I was surprised he’d asked me to label it confidential, but I didn’t get a chance to ask him why.
‘It’s sent,’ I said.
‘Thank you,’ he said, and left.
I was relieved that I’d felt no awkwardness or attraction between us when I was in his office. Whatever I had felt towards him had disappeared the minute Tom had pulled me into his arms at the hospital. I did not want anyone else, I never had, really. I had just been missing Tom and the way we used to be.
I took out my phone and texted him: I love you.
Ivan came in at 8.30 and started to tell me about his Tinder date the night before. I laughed as he described how the girl had played footsie a little too energetically under the table and had ended up hitting a sensitive part of his anatomy by mistake. As he went off to make some tea, I realised that, for the first time in months, I’d been able to talk to someone without thinking about the emergency fund at the same time.
Later that night in bed, Tom opened up his arms and I snuggled onto his shoulder. His hand rested on my arm, stroking it gently. A tear rolled out of my eye and fell on his T-shirt.
‘He’s going to be fine. The doctors say he should be home soon,’ said Tom.
‘I know. I just love you all so much, that’s all.’
‘That’s good, because we love you too!’
He smiled then shifted and picked up the stereo remote. He put on the first song that he had played for me, the day after our wedding, ‘Heartbeat’ by the Pet Shop Boys. I remembered the sheer excitement of waking up together, married. We had done it. We had overcome all the objections and pessimistic predictions.
It felt the same now. We had been through so much since Tom lost his job, but here we were, lying together, listening to the Pet Shop Boys, twenty years later.
I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until the alarm rang the next morning.
*
Once Baba was up to it, I took the children to see him. He was recovering well in hospital. He sat up in bed, with Ahmed on a chair near him, as they played Rummy.
‘I used to play this with my grandfather. I’ve been playing it for years,’ said Baba, ‘but your brain is young and quick. You’ll beat your Nana!’
Ahmed smiled. ‘I’m afraid I will, Nana!’
‘Look at this one, Nani,’ said Sofia. ‘This dress is perfect.’
Ami was sitting in an armchair, with Sofia perching on one arm of the chair, and Farrah on the other. Sofia was showing them wedding dresses on her phone. She’d found a Pakistani designer’s Instagram account. Shahed and Tom, along with Alex, had gone to get some takeaway from Tooting for us for later, to celebrate Shahed and Farrah fixing a date for the wedding.
‘Farrah Khala will look so good in red,’ said Sofia. ‘How are you going to do your hair?’
Ami reached out and took Farrah’s hand.
‘I’m so glad Baba is still alive to see you get married,’ she said.
Farrah smiled.
‘Ami, it’s good he’s still alive, period. Not just for the shadi!’ I said.
We all laughed.
‘Have you and Tom started saving for Sofia’s wedding? It’s your responsibility. Our weddings cost a lot, you know,’ said Ami.
‘Sofia is half-English, Ami. Maybe she can just have a nice little registry office affair instead of a big fat Pakistani wedding, and Tom and I can use the money to go on holiday!’
As we all joked, I looked around, thankful that, after everything that had happened, we had made it to this place.
But it couldn’t have happened without Harry’s generosity and I would always be grateful to him.
I tried to ignore the fact that I was still lying. Tom didn’t know where I’d got the money. Soon, though, I would have my bonus and return Harry’s money, then everything would be back as it should have been. It was only a matter of a couple of weeks.
Sixty-Nine
‘Are you coming to Lizzie’s anniversary party?’ said Sam.
I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. We had managed to catch the same train home from Waterloo and, even more miraculously, found two seats together.
‘I really want to but I’m not sure.’
‘Oh, come on! It’ll do you good, both of you. Naila and Tariq are coming, so Tom will have a buddy there. You and Tom have isolated yourselves. It’s time to get back out there.’
‘Well, Naila did say that I needed to come as her “brown person plus-one” so she doesn’t feel like there’s a lone diversity tick hanging over hers and Tariq’s heads at the party.’ I smiled. ‘And Stewart has told Tom he’s going to introduce him to some friends who might have an opening at their company so he’s quite keen.’
‘Fab. Come then!’
She offered me a crisp from her packet.
‘Mmm. There’s one more thing I’m worried about, though. Harry and Julia are going to be there,’ I said.
I’d told Sam all about New York, but not about the money Harry had lent me. There was no reason to ever think about the emergency fund again and I wanted to forget it had ever happened.
‘It’s too risky to be with Julia and Harry together. They’ll find out that I know them both and that I’ve been hiding it from them.’
‘Well, at some point it’s bound to come out. Your kids are at the same school, for goodness’ sake.’
I shook my head.
‘It’s not just that. Even if Tom doesn’t know that I kissed Harry as a mistake, introducing them together feels unfair to Tom. It’s humiliating for him. Harry and I will know what happened but Tom would have no idea.’
‘Ah, I see. That might be awkward, but you and Harry have agreed to forget about that. Besides, nothing actually happened, did it? All the more reason to act absolutely normal, as if New York was just an ordinary business trip. And so what if Julia finds out you’re working for her husband? It’s not a crime.’
‘OK, we’ll come,’ I said. ‘Is James in town? It will be nice to see him too.’
‘Yes, he’s coming. His awful brother Rupert is going to be there too, but I hope we can avoid him. There will be enough people there.’
‘We can form a ring of steel around you two,’ I smiled.
‘That might not be a bad idea!’
I still felt un
easy but perhaps it would be one less thing to worry about once Julia and Harry knew the connection – and once Tom and Harry met, it would confirm that nothing that terrible had happened in New York, and any discomfort around it would be dispelled. I was crossing out secrets one by one and each one made me feel lighter.
I had to find a way to let Harry know that I was also going to be at Lizzie’s party, so that it didn’t look like a big deal when he saw me there. I still wouldn’t tell him that I knew Julia. Not yet.
The next day at work, as I sat in Harry’s office, I said, ‘It’s such a small world, I didn’t realise you knew my friend Lizzie and her husband Stewart. When she found out I was working at HH she said that one of her friends is a Director there!’
When the inevitable moment came at the party, when Julia realised that I worked for Harry and Harry discovered that I knew Julia, I would simply have to pretend that I had no idea about the connection until then. It was too late to backtrack now.
As for Harry showing me Julia’s photograph, it was perfectly plausible that I hadn’t paid attention. I was meeting a Director for the first time, who had also turned out to be the man who had flirted with me in the lift. I wouldn’t necessarily have examined the photograph of yet another blonde corporate wife in much detail. I had planned how I would react at the party. My pleasantly surprised face, the shake of my head and a delighted squeal of, ‘Wow, this is incredible! I can’t believe you’re married to Julia. I had no idea!’
Seventy
September
I was going to the party straight from work, so Harry had offered to give me a lift and I took my outfit to the office that morning. My friends had gone to Butterfly and clogged up my WhatsApp with photographs, asking which dress to choose and trying to persuade me to join them. I’d resisted the urge. Something had shifted inside me. I felt happier to have the money in the bank than spend it on a new dress. It felt strange, but good.
Instead of going shopping, I had taken out one of Ami’s saris which she had worn when she was pregnant with me, over forty years ago. It was red Chantilly lace and I had found an old red sari blouse of mine that fitted fine, once I’d let the sides out a little. I wouldn’t normally have worn this to one of my white friends’ parties, opting instead for a dress from Whistles or Joseph, but wearing the sari had meant that I would spend nothing. I hoped this group of friends knew me well enough now not to be alienated by my wearing a sari. There was always a chance, though, that some of them, especially the guests who hadn’t met me before, would think that I was some kind of religious fundamentalist, even though my blouse was backless, with barely-there spaghetti straps.
Would I Lie to You? Page 24