“Uhm, thanks, Jacob. I’ll have a Vodkatini,” Tracey said, the colour fading again from her face.
“I don’t know yet,” I said. “I need to look at the drinks menu - I’ll come with you.” I needed to escape Hugo who had shot me another stone-cold stare, as Kevin began to involve him in a discussion about the Premier League.
“Thanks for that, Jacob,” I said when we were standing at the counter, waiting to order our drinks.
“Any time,” he said kindly. “It must be hard for you to be with someone who does not understand you life.”
I looked at him and said nothing.
When we returned to the group, Hugo seemed to have calmed down and soon asked me to dance which I readily agreed to - better than having to talk and venture into any dangerous topics like work, children, and marriage. Neither he nor Claudia seemed to notice Jacob staring at me frequently, which I could only escape by making us leave the party as early as possible, using work commitments as an excuse.
It wasn’t really so much as an excuse but the truth, as I was still on double shifts.
Just before Jessica had fully convalesced, the worst was over for me. The two biggest deals had closed, after many late nights in the office and at home, but without any all-nighters. It was the first evening in weeks that I could make it home in time for the good night story.
I was just tidying up my inbox on outlook when a new email from Tracey popped up. I reluctantly clicked on ‘open’. Please, I want to go home so badly.
I think we are done.
Thank you for your amazing effort over the last weeks.
Your Counsel promotion has been approved.
Congratulations.
T.
There. So it had been worth it, working myself half to death without complaint.
My promised promotion to Counsel.
Oh, and what a miracle. After one year’s hard work and several eighty-hour weeks.
I finally got praise from Tracey.
11. Don’t Leave Me This Way
Seven minutes.
And not many more words.
“I don’t love you. I want to get married, I want children. You’ve already had everything. Amongst all women, you are like a Ferrari, but I don’t want a Ferrari. It’s too much. I just want a Volkswagen bus.”
“Hugo, please stay, you cannot leave now, let us talk about it!” I sobbed.
“I can’t. I have to go.” His face was hard but his voice sounded chocked.
He turns around, walks to the front door. Opens it.
Closes it from the outside.
He is gone.
* * *
Oh god, it cannot be. Please, no. That had gone completely wrong. Our agreed time out of two weeks was over this evening; I had been looking forward to seeing him, I wanted to dispose of all problems once and for all, make up for everything.
I could feel the rug being pulled out from under me. I slumped down.
I somehow managed to grab my mobile and press Isabella’s name on the favourites list.
“Love? What’s going on? Didn’t Hugo want to come by this evening for your big talk?”
“Yes - he was - here - he doesn’t - love - me - anymore,” I babbled breathlessly. “I - can’t - breathe.”
“I’ll be with you in ten minutes! Lie down and try to breathe very slowly - inhale, exhale! Are the kids asleep?”
“Yes-”
“Good. If necessary, wake them up and send them to your neighbour to get help. I’ll be there soon, love, I will hurry! Hang on in there!”
“OK.” I hung up and stared at the phone.
She must have knocked on the door and I must have opened it for her. At some point I was no longer alone on the sofa. I leaned my head on Isabella’s shoulder, my arms wrapped around my legs. I couldn’t cry. My entire body was trembling. The pain was physically perceptible - somewhere in my chest, taking my breath away. It hurt so much I was not able to think of anything else. I just couldn’t comprehend. Not Hugo. Hugo could not leave me. Hugo, who had told me one week after we got together that he loved me (and I had thought he was crazy). Hugo, whom I had taken for granted. Whose needs I had not taken seriously.
“Love, you’re in a state of shock. Please tell me at once if you are starting to feel any worse and I will call a doctor immediately.” Isabella was very gentle but I could sense her determination.
“There was one here just now.”
“My god, of course. I did not think of that. That’s even more irresponsible! He has an ethical responsibility as a doctor, doesn’t he? How can he, just like that, end your relationship, your life together with one sentence and then just disappear immediately? I can’t believe it!”
“He was here for exactly seven minutes.”
“My love, I am so sorry. You have my deepest sympathies. I appreciate that you’ve been carrying around this fear since your childhood trauma with your father, the feeling of being abandoned and now it’s like a nightmare come true. I’ll promise you something, you will not end up like your mother. Yes, you will suffer like a dog for three months. You will wake up every morning and think you cannot take it anymore. Then, one day, after three months, you know this page will have turned. It is no longer your first and final thought, it hurts less and less and it starts to heal. Please don’t forget how much your girls need you.”
“I know,” I whispered, “they love Hugo as well. Especially Marie. She has spent more time with him than with Jean, and now-” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I could feel myself welling up. I had made a complete mess of it. My children had had a chance to have a normal family life and I had messed it up. “We were going to go on holiday to Croatia in two weeks’ time. The girls were so looking forward to it!” The thought of having to disappoint them and to look into their sad faces was too much.
“Here, take two of these.” Isabella handed me a small white plastic pill container. The label read Happy Camper and showed a simple colourful drawing of a boy happily stretching out on a cloud.
I instinctively wrinkled my nose. “What is that?”
“It’s Kava Kava, don’t worry it’s all herbal. It’s mood-improving, just like hypericum and valerian. You can only buy it in the U.S.,” Isabella explained.
I took my glass of red wine and flushed down two capsules with a large sip. “I’ll write him a letter now. I have to do something. I can’t believe it has come this far.”
“You do that honey,” Isabella encouraged me. “I will stay here.”
I went to my desk, took out a writing pad and started to write. I appealed to him to consider that our love was something special which should not be thrown away; I understood that my selfishness had driven him away but I could also be a Volkswagen bus if that is what he wanted, I could defer my needs to his needs, have another child... I wrote a plea that was built on logical arguments and designed to invalidate Hugo’s statements. I could do no more than that. Satisfied with my powers of conviction, I placed the letter in an envelope and sealed it. I reminded myself, with some unease, of my conversation with Isabella where I had told her that I didn’t love Hugo. Clearly I had said that in some mood. Of course I loved him and I had to get him back. He wouldn’t be able to refute my arguments.
Isabella looked up from the newest edition of InStyle magazine when I returned to the living room. “Look, here is a photo of Kate wearing that Chloé top which you bought the other day,” she remarked and held up the magazine.
“Yes I saw that - of course it looks better on her,” I sighed and plunged on the sofa. “Oh, honey, how could it come to this? Since my counsel promotion Tracey has pushed even more transactions on to my desk, in which I’m to take the lead - although she does not fail to remind me of the oh so important hierarchy: ‘but of course, do copy me into all correspondence, as I am still your sup
ervising partner’,” I imitated Tracey’s nasal tone.
Isabella sniggered at my attempt at parody.
“In addition it’s expected of me to do lots of marketing, which I like - at last that means I can reactivate all my contacts. However, it means, in addition to the normal work load, that I have to do lunches and dinners and travel more. All of which means I’ll have even less time for Hugo, let alone the girls.” I sighed again.
Michael Stone had been right. How on earth could I imagine I was able to reconcile all these factors? I always had wanted everything - a career, children and a man - but somehow it didn’t seem to work. On the other hand, there were so many fabulous women - beautiful, successful, independent and intelligent - who seemed to have it all. Although, personally, I didn’t know of one who had actually found, in her relationship, the fulfilment that she longed for. Admittedly, my relationship with Hugo did not fulfil me either; hence my conviction at some stage that I didn’t love him. That wasn’t the point though - Hugo had to learn to create the space that he needed and I had to learn to give him that space.
“Hmm. When is that woman finally going to return to London? Shouldn’t that have already happened?” Isabella interrupted my stream of thought.
“Tracey has not mentioned her return to London for a while - indeed, when I think about it, she never mentions it and only smiles in a strange way when Michael Stone, Richard Keel or another banking partner raises it. I am starting to believe that she doesn’t intend to return to London, in the near future, at all.”
Isabella looked at me with astonishment. “No! You really think so?”
“The more I think about it the more I’m convinced that that is the case. She insists that she is the only English banking partner in the office, you know! Her peculiar way to insist on that reminds me of this Welsh character from Little Britain - ‘I’m the only gay in the village!’” I made a bad attempt at imitating a Welsh accent. It came out sounding more Caribbean.
“That makes sense - why should she give up her position here when she would probably just be one of many in London? Now I understand everything,” Isabella mused. “That means of course that you are in her way!”
“Come off it - I’m no danger to her - she’s the partner, not me!”
“Why not? You are in every respect a danger to her. You have personality, style, a career, adorable children, a gorgeous man, a great figure plus you are a kind person - that’s too much for her, she cannot possibly bear to face this every day. One has to be very self-confident in order to do that. I can only do it because I love you so much!”
“Oh dear,” I protested. “Darling you are very sweet but you know very well what it is really like behind the façade - and which gorgeous man? He’s gone, remember?” I was tearing up again but the thought of Tracey prevented me from bursting into tears. I paused to collect myself. “Tracey has to go back to London eventually - her husband and children have already moved into their new house in Blackheath. Tracey flies to London every weekend.”
Since she often arranged for important client meetings on Fridays or Monday she was able to bill the flight costs to the firm’s marketing budget, which was quite common practice. Although she wouldn’t be able to do that too often. Also, even considering her work mania, I could not imagine that any mother would be able to bear being separated from her children on weekdays over a protracted period. I dismissed the thought.
“I’m just saying, watch your back. If she stays, you will have to push past her.”
“That’s not my style. I would have to make an even greater effort to be made partner, even though that has basically been promised to me. Anyway, at the moment I don’t care, I just want to have Hugo back!”
“Then go to his house and put the letter into his letter box. I’ll come with you.”
I sniffed. “OK. Actually Jana is staying here tonight anyway as I thought Hugo and I may go out. I’ll just leave her a note in case she wakes up.”
I went into the kitchen and scribbled a message for Jana.
We drove the short distance to Hugo’s apartment and posted the envelope in his letterbox. Ten minutes later Isabella dropped me back home.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come back in?” she asked anxiously, through the open car window. I was already by the front door, searching in my bag for the keys.
“No, don’t worry, love. I’ll try to get some sleep - with the help of a bottle of red wine and some valerian capsules.” I felt drained. All I wanted to do was to crawl under my blanket.
“OK, but you know you can call me any time, day or night. I will leave my phone switched on.” Isabella blew me a kiss and drove off.
I waved her good-bye and then dropped my hand. I looked at both my hands. Hugo had given me those rings. They were not Cartier but they had come from his heart. Big teardrops were now falling onto them. I unlocked the door and went inside.
* * *
Two days and three sleepless nights had gone by and I had not heard from Hugo. It was Monday. I had somehow dragged myself into the office and was now staring out of the window, incapable of thinking about anything else. I gathered all my courage, took the telephone and dialled Hugo’s office number.
“Dr. Walther’s office, how can I help you?” The receptionist answered.
“Hello, Mrs. Johnson. It’s Chloé Krakowski - can I speak to him please?”
“Hello! Yes of course - I think he is free right now. Just a moment please.”
While I waited I could feel my heart beating fast.
“Uhm, Chloé?” Hugo answered hesitantly. He hardly sounded pleased.
“Hello, Hugo.” I swallowed. “Have you read my letter?”
“Uhhh - ahem - no. Which letter?”
That was strange. Hugo checked his letter box every morning, even on Sundays when there was no postal delivery. “The one I dropped at your house Friday night. Did you not check your letter box?”
“Uhm. No.”
The blinkers fell from my eyes. “Oh my god. You have not been home since Friday night.”
He hesitated. “No,” he admitted.
“Oh god. Hugo. Who is she?”
“Her name is Alina. She is twenty-six. She wants children, she-”
“Hugo, please. I don’t believe it! OK, I understand you. I’m not angry with you but please read my letter before you throw away everything that we have!”
“Chloé - I can’t.”
“Do you love her?”
“No! I don’t know. I-”
“Please Hugo! Think about us!” I was desperate. Was it too late?
“I still mean what I told you, Chloé - I don’t love you.”
It somehow sounded rehearsed but there it was. The deal-breaker. I could not argue with that and he knew it.
“OK,” I whispered. “I understand. Take care.” I carefully replaced the receiver as if it was fragile. At that moment my landline rang, nearly giving me a heart attack. Tracey. Great timing.
“Hi Tracey,” I managed with enormous effort.
“I have a small deal here; we won’t get a lot of money for it as it’s a favour for Holman Bank, but I thought you could do it.”
She made it sound like good news. In fact, however, this would be bad news for my performance statistic since I would not be able to make any profit. Tracey was aware that good figures were essential for a partnership business case, but I had no choice and she knew it.
“Yes. Sure,” I replied. “I’ll come over.”
I hung up again, dried the swelling tears and walked to her office with my head down, hoping that nobody would talk to me on my way there.
She looked up from her draft. “So, the client needs the first draft by tomorrow - is everything okay? You look ill.” She studied my face.
I could not contain
myself any longer. “Hugo left me!” I burst into tears.
“Oh dear!” Tracey exclaimed. She got up from her chair, walked around her desk and hugged me. “You poor thing!”
“He - he - was my rock!” I sobbed.
“Oh I know! I can’t imagine what I’d do if Kevin left me - well, he’d probably end up getting all the money and custody of the children, considering I’m never home - oh this is terrible! You have to work this out, Chloé. Don’t you think you’ll work it out?”
“No - he already has a new girlfriend - she is twenty-six!” I pulled away and blew my nose. “Sorry about this, Tracey. I didn’t intend to cry.”
“Oh no - don’t worry. Really? A younger woman? Seriously, that’s ridiculous - I mean, you look twenty-six!”
I managed a crooked smile. “That’s not the point. She is willing and young enough to give birth to his children.”
“Still - he’ll come around, I’m sure! I know Kevin would not really want to give up the lifestyle. They all moan and bicker about us working hard but in the end they realise they can’t do much better, especially if we slacken the reins and turn a blind eye. Maybe it’s just a phase and he needs attention from a bimbo in order to feel less emasculated. Still, it must be so hard for you! In the circumstances I would understand if you don’t want to do the Holman deal. Look, Chloé, you tell me how much work do you want - do you want lots to take your mind off things or do you want me to leave you alone?”
“To be honest, I find it hard to concentrate on anything,” I replied with relief. “I’m not sure how I can-” I broke off. The tears were choking me up.
“Then why don’t you go home - or go and see a doctor?”
“Yes, I think you are right. My doctor is nearby; she may be able to see me at short notice.” I looked at her gratefully. “Thank you so much, Tracey.”
“That’s OK, Chloé. Just get better soon. No man is worth it.” She lead me out of her office and closed the door behind me.
Wow. I had completely misjudged Tracey. Deep down she was a warm-hearted, empathetic woman. First she wanted to impose a loss-making deal on me then she hugged me and sent me home. Wow. I went back to my office, grabbed my bag, briefly told Jerome where I’d be and left the building. On my way to the doctor I called Alexia to put her in the loop. As soon as I mentioned Hugo’s name she began cursing Hugo in what must have been very rude Greek. When I told her about Tracey’s reaction she was not surprised.
Supersonic Page 18