by Adele Geras
I’d forgotten how many preliminaries there are, when you’re first getting to know someone. When you’re infatuated, besotted, then every little detail of their lives is fascinating, but when you’re not, it’s a bit dull. We went through the biographical stuff. Tom has a mother and father who live in Farnham. A brother who’s a doctor in Glasgow. A sister-in-law who works for Specsavers. Two nieces.
‘You’re obviously good with children,’ I said, dipping a bit of naan bread into the sauce. ‘Is that why you became a teacher?’
‘I suppose so. I just … I don’t know. Wandered into it after uni. What about you?’
I pretended to be eating for a little longer than necessary. ‘What about me?’ I said smiling. I didn’t want to sound hostile to Tom, but I really didn’t want to talk about myself.
‘You haven’t always wanted to be a nanny, right?’
‘No, it’s just for now to help Rowena out. And only till they all go to London. I’d written an article about Eva for lipstick. I want to be a journalist. I’ve always wanted it. A features writer.’ As I spoke, it occurred to me that I’d never said those words aloud to anyone. Simon took it for granted and no one else, apart maybe from a careers teacher at school, had ever asked me specifically. I felt sad, suddenly, wondering what I could do to get back to the career I really wanted.
He nodded. ‘Did you like working for a fashion mag?’
‘Yeah. It was great.’
He didn’t say anything but the question hovered over the table so I helped him out. I said, ‘I liked it a lot but I had a fight with my boss. I couldn’t stay after that.’
He didn’t ask any more and we went on to other things. We talked about the sort of things that people on first dates talk about, mapping out what we agreed and disagreed about. Movies, music, books: we went through almost everything and found that we liked a lot of the same stuff. I tried to work out how I felt about this. If someone at a dating agency could see us, I told myself, they’d think: These two have so much in common. I looked across the table at Tom and thought about what it would be like to kiss him. Was he the one to make me forget about Simon? I wasn’t sure. We’d got round to talking about the sale of Salix House and the move to London.
‘I’m going to take Eva to look at some places next week,’ I said. ‘I hate the thought of her having to move at her age. She loves that house.’
‘It’s sad,’ Tom said, ‘but it must be hard to keep a place like that going. I went there last year, to pick up some things for the Harvest Festival.’
‘Someone’s interested in it. A property developer. He might turn it into a small hotel.’
‘But it could be a nice hotel, couldn’t it? And when Eva’s gone does it make any difference who’s got the place or what they do to it? ‘
‘It does. I don’t know why I think that, but I do. I’d like it to be someone’s home, I suppose.’
Tom shook his head. ‘You’ll be going back to get a job in London, will you? After they’ve all moved?’ He looked a bit crestfallen. I said, ‘I don’t know what I’ll do yet. I’m a bit … well, undecided about everything, to be honest.’
‘You’ll be here for the Nativity Play, won’t you? I’m auditioning next week. It’s on the third and fourth of December, just before the end of term.’
‘I know! Dee and Bridie are so excited. They’ve told me about it. Are you in charge every year? Is it just you? Or do other teachers muck in as well?’
‘It’s a joint effort really. A kind of combination of Carol Concert and a play. All the songs in the play are set to the tune of well-known carols and I see to it that no one has too many words to learn.’
‘Sounds great. And of course I’ll be here. I can’t imagine they’ll be out of Salix House before Christmas, even if they get an offer tomorrow. And if Dee and Bridie get parts, I’ll be the one helping them memorize stuff and going over it.’
‘Dee’s already lobbying for Mary but just between you and me, I think an angel is more likely. Don’t tell her I said so, will you?’
I laughed. ‘Your secret is safe with me.’
He was grinning. ‘So there’s still a bit of time?’
‘Time?’
‘For you to be living in Salix House.’
‘Yes,’ I said. It was hard not to smile. It was so obvious that what he’d meant was: a bit of time for us to see each other. I was flattered and pleased. The period before Simon was so far away from me, so distant from everything I was now, that I’d forgotten how pleasant it was to be admired. How good it was to have someone sitting opposite me who actually fancied me and who even though he didn’t make a great fuss about it, didn’t try to hide it.
We walked together to the car park.
‘Will you let me pick you up next time?’ he said, and in the moment before I answered, he added: ‘There will be a next time, won’t there? I really would like to see you again, Megan.’
‘Yes, of course,’ I said. ‘I’d like that too.’ And as I said it, I found I meant it. I was standing by the door of my car and Tom was standing next to me, waiting to see me off.
‘Megan,’ he said and there was no hint of a question in his voice. It was trembling slightly and he put a hand on my left arm and turned me to face him. He didn’t say a word but just moved his other hand on to my right shoulder and pulled me closer to him. He kissed me then. I’d been expecting it, but still it took me by surprise. At first, there was a second of uncertainty (How do you do this?) but then I kissed him back. I’d remembered how it went. My body hadn’t forgotten anything. I wanted to shout out with joy. I thought: Simon hasn’t succeeded in squashing me entirely. I stepped back a little and said, ‘Goodnight, Tom. It was a lovely evening.’ Then I got into my car, a bit trembly from the shock of being kissed, and also from the sudden feeling I had that here was someone I liked. Someone I could like more, perhaps, given time. I waved at him out of the window as I left the car park and I could see him in my rear-view mirror, looking a bit stunned. I felt a little dazed myself.
I smiled as I drove home and asked myself whether it was possible that this evening was the beginning of a return to happiness; a small step along that path. I told myself: maybe you’re getting over Simon. This proves that you are, but something else occurred to me almost at once: You’re not allowed to be happy. That was the very next thought in my head: good things can’t happen to you. A thin, sleety rain had started to fall and I turned on the windscreen wipers.
I heard my phone beeping in my handbag and I knew it was Tom. I checked his message before getting out of the car. Can you send me your email address? Thanks! Tom x.
Of course he’d be the sort to punctuate his messages even in a text. I sent him back my address and added my own kiss. It made me smile to think of how he’d interpret that little letter ‘x’; how he’d fantasize about what it meant.
When I got into my bedroom, I texted Jay. Kissed tonite by kids’ teacher. Watcha think of that? Xxxx.
A text arrived in seconds. Urgent debrief needed. Am Skyping you in five. Jxx.
I laughed and went to turn on my laptop.
*
Tom wrote to me on email every day. I didn’t know how I felt about that, but I didn’t see anything wrong with ‘talking’ to him. His messages were friendly and casual, with nothing in them that others couldn’t have read but last night he asked me out again.
Fox and Hounds about 6? he wrote. That’s walking distance for you. We could eat there and you can have a glass or two of wine if you don’t bring your car. I won’t bother drinking. It’d be great to see you again. Tom xx.
I agreed to meet him. Dee stared at me when she saw me. ‘You’re all dressed up, Megan,’ she said. ‘Are you going out? We’re going to Mandy’s house for trick or treating. Daddy’s taking us. Granny’s made us witches’ hats and cloaks.’
‘I’m only going down to the Fox and Hounds for a drink and a snack. And I’m not dressed up, either. Trousers and a shirt isn’t dressed up.’
/> ‘It is if you wear jeans and a T-shirt every day. Who’re you going with?’
‘Don’t be so nosey,’ said Bridie, who’d joined in the conversation.
‘Can’t help it. I am nosey. Is it someone secret?’
‘No, not really,’ I replied. ‘It’s Mr Shoreley.’
Dee squeaked. ‘Are you going to be his girlfriend? You are, aren’t you?’
‘No,’ I said, quite truthfully. ‘I’m not. We’re going to have a drink and a sandwich. That’s it.’
‘Will you talk about me?’ Bridie asked.
‘Doubt it. But don’t worry. He’s already told me how well you’re doing, so there’s nothing to worry about, even if we do.’
‘Will you tell us? What he says about us?’ That was Dee.
‘I shouldn’t think he’ll even mention you.’
I changed the subject after that and they went to do Hallowe’en-type preparations without any further references to boyfriends.
When I was talking to Tom, it was quite easy to forget stuff. I found that I was enjoying myself. At one point during the meal, he went to the Gents and I thought: so far this evening, you’ve not given Simon, or that telephone conversation, one single thought. That’s got to be good. But I’d called them to mind now, hadn’t I, so maybe the forgetting bit didn’t really count.
‘You look as though you’re thinking of something sad,’ Tom said, sliding back into the bench opposite me.
‘No, I’m not,’ I said. ‘I was just thinking what a nice time I was having.’
‘Right! Me too!’ He had a way of looking at me as though my answer had really mattered. He never interrupted me when I was speaking and he listened better than anyone I’d ever met.
‘You’re a good listener,’ I said. ‘I expect it comes with being a teacher.’
‘I dunno,’ he grinned at me. ‘Most of the time, I’m trying to get the kids to listen to me. But you did look sad.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘It’s that boss you mentioned, isn’t it?’
‘How do you mean, Tom?’
‘You told me you’d left lipstick because of a difference with your boss. But it was more than that, wasn’t it?’
I was silent for a few moments because he went on: ‘Sorry, sorry, it’s none of my business,’
‘It’s okay. I don’t mind talking about it,’ I said, and didn’t know if I was telling the truth. Surely talking about it would make me feel better? Talking about some of it, anyway. ‘I had an affair with my boss. He was married. He dumped me. Very boring story.’
He reached out across the table and took my hand. ‘I can see that you’re still hurt by it. You’re not over it, are you?’
‘Yes, I am. Truly.’
He smiled. ‘You’re a liar. Not a terribly good one, either. I’m okay with the truth, if you felt like telling me.’
‘Okay, then. Maybe not completely all right but getting there.’ I smiled as brightly as I could. ‘Can we talk about something else? I’ve got to be home soon, too. The girls’ll have got back from their Hallowe’en party ages ago.’
‘No problem,’ he said. Before he let go of my hand, he squeezed it. ‘Let me get the bill.’
‘We’re going to split it,’ I said and before he could object I added, ‘I’ll only have meals and things with you if we do.’
Once we were in the car, he said, ‘Next time you can come and have a meal at my house. I’m not a bad cook. No worries about the bill then.’
‘Okay, that’d be good. I’ll bring some wine, if it’s not a school night.’
I could easily have walked back to Salix House. We were there within seconds. He didn’t drive to the front door but stopped the car at the side of the house.
‘Megan,’ he said and I knew what was coming. I’d probably known it as I walked down to the Fox and Hounds. I was waiting for it. I’d sort of been waiting for it all evening. Tom put his hand across me and turned me to face him. Then he kissed me. It wasn’t like the last time. I’d forgotten what being kissed seriously was like. I didn’t think about whether I wanted to respond or what it meant, but somehow my body knew better than I did that it was okay. When we stopped kissing, I had my arms around him. I didn’t remember doing that, reaching for him, but I must have done. I felt suddenly shy. I opened the car door.
‘Must go, Tom. Thanks for the lift.’ I tried to keep my voice casual but I could hear that it sounded a little wobbly.
‘I’ll email you, Megan.’ Keeping hold of one of my hands, he bent to kiss it. ‘See you,’ he said and he was smiling.
His kiss stayed with me. I might be able to do this, I thought. I might be able to put Simon and everything else behind me. Tom might be able to make me forget what I’d done.
The hall was in darkness. I could hear the television in the drawing room but I couldn’t face Rowena and Conor and I was pretty sure Eva would have gone to her room. As I walked upstairs, I heard someone crying. Dee or Bridie, I thought, and walked quickly towards their room. I opened the door as quietly as I could and peeped in. Both girls were fast asleep, but I could still hear weeping, coming from somewhere quite far away. I stood for a moment on the landing, trying to decide if it was coming from the television. It must have been, I told myself. What else could it possibly be?
11
There was no point in sulking but sulking was what Eva felt like doing. Rowena had arranged the day and Megan was only doing what she’d been told to do: taking her to look around some flats near the new London house. Things were moving too fast for comfort. Luke Fielden had confirmed that he was seriously thinking of making an offer. Rowena and Conor were pleased and relieved and she realized that she ought to be happy for her daughter and not feeling as though there was something in her throat that wouldn’t be swallowed however hard she tried.
‘Is anything the matter?’ Megan asked and Eva blinked. Was it so obvious?
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m trying to be sensible but the thought of everything moving so quickly … the thought of leaving Salix House. I don’t know. I’m being difficult. That’s what Rowena would say.’
‘No, I know how much you love the house. It must be so … well.’ Megan couldn’t look directly at Eva, who was in the passenger seat beside her, but glanced to her left and smiled at her.
‘It’s nice to have someone who understands,’ Eva said. ‘Rowena is very keen on this Luke person. What do you think of him?’
‘He’s okay. I thought he was a bit stuck-up at first but I think that’s only his manner. He told me the house would be … well, he said he wasn’t a vandal.’
‘That’s something to be grateful for, I suppose,’ said Eva. ‘I don’t so much mind the idea of its becoming a hotel. I rather like it in a way … it stops me from being jealous of one family, one set of people living there if I can imagine it simply as a setting for lots of stories unfolding under one roof. That’s how I always think of hotels … collections of many small dramas happening at the same time.’
‘Eva, do you mind if I ask you a question?’ Megan said. She looked, Eva thought, embarrassed.
‘No, of course not. Anything you like.’
‘It’s just that I’ve noticed something. About Salix House. I don’t quite know how to say this. Sometimes, in some rooms, there’s a kind of atmosphere. I can’t really describe it.’
‘Nothing’s changed as far as I know. I haven’t noticed anything different.’
Eva watched Megan closely as she negotiated a roundabout in silence. The short interval gave her time to wonder why she was lying. Of course she’d always been aware of a strangeness in the house, but the last thing in the world she had expected was for Megan to have noticed as well. Isn’t it, she thought, all in my mind? And if it isn’t, what does that mean? She shivered. Maybe Megan was referring to something entirely different. She was smiling at Eva now, saying, ‘Do you feel like stopping for a coffee? There’s rather a nice café along here.’
‘I’d love to.’
They parked in a side street and made their way to a modest-looking place which Eva would never even have noticed.
‘I stopped here on my way back from interviewing you,’ Megan said once they’d sat down and ordered cappuccinos and Danish pastries. ‘I was so happy. I rang … well, it doesn’t matter now.’
Eva didn’t pursue it. Megan must have rung her boss, the one she’d been in love with. The one who’d sacked her. Part of her wanted to go back to the conversation about the house but she said, ‘I oughtn’t perhaps to ask you, Megan, but are you feeling better these days? About everything?’
‘You mean about Simon?’ Megan made a face somewhere between a grimace and a smile and said, ‘Well, it’s hard to keep on being miserable, I suppose. And have the girls told you about Tom?’
‘They have. Anyone would think they’d engineered the whole thing. Are you …’
‘No, no, it’s not like that, honestly. We really are just friends.’ She blushed a little as she said that, and Eva didn’t press her. She went on, ‘Though I think he’d like it to be … well, more. But I’m not sure …’
‘You’re not madly in love with him, then?’ Eva bit into her pastry and sighed. ‘It would be so restful to talk about you and yet I find myself so worried about Salix House and problems …’ she made inverted speech marks with her fingers in the air, ‘to do with settling me and making sure I’m provided for, etcetera etcetera. It’s constantly on my mind. I’m sick to death of being difficult and yet, I can’t seem to face leaving my home.’
‘You’ll feel better when we’ve found you somewhere you like. Maybe we’ll see it today.’
Eva wrinkled her nose. ‘Maybe. I hope so. But what did you mean when you spoke of the changed atmosphere in Salix House?’
Megan stirred the froth on her cappuccino. ‘I don’t know how to put it, to tell you the truth. Just I’ve sometimes felt that … well, it sounds mad but I’ve sometimes felt that I’m not alone in rooms where I know I’m by myself.’
Eva looked at her. ‘What have you seen exactly?’
‘Not seen. Not exactly. Sometimes I think that someone’s just left a room I’ve come into. Sometimes it’s cold … the downstairs loo is freezing. Well, I try not to go in there. I thought I saw …’