One Step Closer to You

by Alice Peterson

  There’s a knock on the door. ‘Leave it!’ Matt calls after me.

  Never before have I been so relieved to see Fred, our ginger-haired neighbour, asking if everything is all right.

  I shake my head vigorously. ‘No.’ I take out my mobile and scroll down my contact list. ‘Wait here.’

  Matt comes to the door. ‘There’s been a misunderstanding. Everything’s fine,’ he says to Fred as Aunt Viv’s phone goes to voicemail. ‘Let’s all calm down,’ he suggests, attempting to take my mobile, but I snatch it back.

  ‘If you touch Louis or me ever again, I swear I’ll call the police. Fred knows what’s been going on, don’t you, Fred?’ He nods, avoiding eye contact with Matt.

  ‘Aunt Viv,’ I say, my voice trembling when the phone beeps. ‘I’m leaving him. I need your help.’

  30

  ‘So, what’s the big news?’ I ask Janey when we meet for lunch in a brasserie on Chiswick High Road. She called me on Sunday night, just when Ben and I had returned from our camping weekend, to ask if I could meet her today, on my day off. ‘It’s important,’ she’d said. ‘I want to tell you face to face.’ Louis is with Ben and Emily. Ben said he’d take them to the zoo.

  ‘So come on, what is it?’

  Janey looks hesitant.

  ‘You’re joining a circus?’ I suggest.

  She shakes her head.

  ‘You’ve won the Lottery?’

  ‘We’d be whooping it up in the Ritz if that were the case.’

  ‘You’re not moving out of London, are you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Just tell me. You’re pregnant?’

  ‘Warmer.’

  ‘You’re engaged?’

  Her smile says it all.

  I think I must scream because the people at the next table are staring at us.

  I grab her left hand, but her finger is bare.

  ‘It needed altering,’ she says, before telling me she went for a sapphire. ‘So you’re pleased, Polly?’

  ‘I couldn’t be happier for you.’

  The waitress clocks the mood, telling us that champagne is on the house. ‘You have one, it’s fine,’ I insist. ‘For all the calories in fizz I can have chips instead.’

  Janey laughs. ‘Well in that case.’

  Over chicken Caesar salads and a bowl of chips to share, I ask Janey how Paul proposed.

  ‘Petrol station. We were buying the Sunday papers. Who says romance isn’t dead?’

  ‘Oh Janey, this is unbelievable. It’s happened so quickly.’

  She tells me they’re marrying in September. Paul has been married before so they don’t want the church and the white dress. ‘We don’t want fuss and frills. We want to save up to buy a house.’

  They have booked the registry office on Marylebone High Street and are organising a party for friends in the evening.

  ‘It still feels like a dream,’ she sighs.

  I remind her of our evening on Valentine’s Day, only five months ago, Janey despairing that she’d received no cards, no chocolates or flowers, nothing. ‘Shows how things can turn around so quickly,’ I say.

  Janey looks at me with affection. ‘I want the same for you.’

  ‘Then we could have a double wedding and go on honeymoon together.’

  ‘Oh Polly, you always joke, but I’m worried deep down that you’ll never trust anyone again. You put on this brave front, but …’

  ‘I’m happy, I really am,’ I cut in, before telling her about my recent camping weekend. Janey bursts out laughing when I describe Ben and me putting up the tent. I describe our satnav disaster on the way home too, TomTom telling us to go straight on, so we happily drove deeper into this tiny lane until we realised we were stuck and couldn’t go forwards or backwards. Louis laughed hysterically, as he always does. Emily was terrified. With much revving of engines we did manage to get ourselves out of trouble. ‘Honestly, Janey, the whole weekend was such a drama, but it was fun.’

  ‘And the sleeping arrangements?’ That’s what Janey really wants to know.

  ‘I hate to disappoint you.’

  ‘No hanky-panky under your sleeping bag?’

  ‘No, but …’

  ‘You sit up talking half the night, you have so much in common … you bare your souls to one another … I know I go on about this, but … you don’t fancy him at all?’

  ‘We’re much better off as friends.’

  ‘Honesty is important, right?’

  I nod, dreading what’s coming next. Honesty can be inconvenient at times.

  ‘Well, I’m really pleased Ben has become such a good friend …’

  ‘But?’

  ‘You’re seeing so much of him, you don’t think it’s stopping …’

  ‘Me from meeting someone else? I’m not fussed, Janey. I don’t want to go on dates with strangers off the internet and …’ I stop dead when I see a man sitting down at the table by the window, his back facing us. He has dark-blond hair and there’s something about the slant of his shoulders.

  Janey turns round and then back to me. ‘Is that who I think it is?’ she whispers. As if imagining being spied on, he looks over his shoulder towards us. When I see his face relief overwhelms me, but there’s also a tiny part of me that’s disappointed, the questions that keep me awake at night remaining unanswered: Where did he go? Does he ever intend to see his son again? Has he been trying to call me? Is he dead or alive? Is he hurting anyone else? Should I have reported him? Would the police have taken me seriously? My priority was Louis and getting clean, but the guilt still haunts me.

  Over a shared passion-fruit cheesecake Janey and I talk about dress shopping and the invitation list.

  ‘And if you want to bring Ben, as a friend,’ she’s quick to add. ‘Out of interest, does he want to meet anyone?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘Interesting. This mate of mine, Diane …’

  ‘The pretty one with the long hair? Works in publishing?’

  ‘Exactly. I saw her the other day. She’s bored of being single. All she wants is to meet a nice straightforward guy …’

  ‘I wouldn’t exactly call Ben straightforward.’

  ‘… Well, anyway, she asked if I knew anyone …’

  ‘I’ll talk to him if you want?’

  ‘Would you? You’re sure you’re definitely not keen?’

  I roll my eyes. ‘I’m sure,’ I say, though each time I say it I become less convinced.

  *

  On the bus on my way home I ring Ben. ‘How was the zoo?’

  ‘Great. We saw some bears and monkeys. Where are you?’

  ‘On my way, I’ll be home in twenty. Janey’s engaged.’

  ‘They don’t waste time.’

  ‘Ben …’

  ‘Um?’

  ‘I think I might have a date for you.’

  ‘A date? You mean a girl date as opposite to a sticky thing with a stone in it.’

  ‘She’s one of Janey’s friends. Diane.’

  ‘Diane,’ he repeats to give himself time. ‘What’s she like?’

  ‘Pretty.’

  ‘That’s a good start.’

  ‘She’s pretty and she has big wotsits,’ I say, causing the man next to me to stir in his seat. ‘Ben? Are you there?’

  ‘I’ll think about them – I mean, it.’

  31

  @GateauAuChocolat More sunshine! It’s lentil, fennel & rocket salad & save the best ’til last … choc meringue roulade …

  Mary-Jane is off sick today so Jean is working in the shop, Aunt Viv is wearing the Marigolds instead and I’m rushing around serving everyone. It’s not so crowded since it’s a beautiful summer’s day and many locals are on holiday during August. ‘Lucky sods,’ Aunt Viv says at the sink. All morning she has been grilling me about the camping weekend. ‘Speak of the devil,’ she says as Ben comes in with his entourage of Louis, Emily, Nellie, two scooters and a football.

  Jean makes himself a coffee, before deciding that today he
doesn’t like dogs, especially not when the customers are eating. ‘Oh, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud,’ Aunt Viv tells him, poking her tongue out and making Louis and Emily giggle.

  Jean shrugs before heading back upstairs to finish preparing his workshop on baking bread.

  ‘He can be so French at times,’ Aunt Viv apologises to Ben and then to Nellie.

  ‘Don’t worry, we’re not staying.’ Ben turns to me. ‘I was just checking we’re still on for tonight?’

  Aunt Viv pretends not to listen, busying herself clearing one of the tables.

  ‘Look, if you’ve forgotten we can cancel,’ Ben says.

  ‘No!’ she bursts out. ‘I mean, why would you want to do that?’ she mutters, before saying sorry again and serving a new customer.

  ‘Where you taking our lovely Polly?’ one of the customers asks.

  ‘Honestly, it’s like working in a goldfish bowl,’ I say, causing a few laughs across the tables.

  ‘Uncle Ben is going out with Diane,’ says Emily, the laughter stopping abruptly.

  I smile. ‘And I’m the hired babysitter.’ Ben and I make arrangements for the evening before I hug Louis goodbye. ‘Be a good soldier for your mum.’

  Aunt Viv carries on washing up but I sense she’s longing to say something about Ben and his date. Finally … ‘Who’s this Diane then?’

  *

  ‘I am the commander!’ claims Louis, shaking his toy submarine in the air victoriously, before submerging it in the water and watching it whir around, making underwater battle noises. Emily wriggles out of the way when he fires a torpedo into the make-believe enemy gunship. ‘Attack!’ Water splatters over the edge of the bath.

  ‘Gently,’ I say. ‘You’ve got company.’

  Ben joins us with Nellie pattering closely behind. She jumps up against the side of the bath to see what’s going on, tail wagging.

  I turn to him. He’s cleanly shaved and dressed in jeans and a pale-blue shirt that brings out the colour of his eyes. His face is tanned from taking Nellie and the children out for walks. ‘You look handsome,’ I say. ‘Doesn’t he, Louis and Emily?’

  Louis is too busy with his torpedoes and Emily is cleaning the other submarine with a flannel.

  *

  Ben has left. Supper is cooking in the oven. Louis and Emily are in bed. I’m on the sofa, Nellie curled up beside me, when Hugo calls.

  ‘Oh,’ says Hugo, when I tell him the reason I’m baby-sitting Emily. ‘Who’s Diane? Two fingers up to her.’

  We laugh, before I explain myself yet again, although I get the sense that no one wants to listen. All Janey, Hugo, Aunt Viv and even Mum want for me is the happy-ever-after ending. I can hear Mum saying to her tennis friends, ‘If only she could meet a nice young man and settle down.’

  ‘You don’t feel at all jealous?’ Hugo asks.

  ‘It was my idea.’

  ‘What happens if he falls head over heels? Then you won’t have him to hang out with.’

  ‘That won’t happen,’ I say without thinking. ‘I mean, even if he does, we’d still do things with the children.’

  ‘Right. Well, I still hope there’s no snap, crackle and pop.’

  ‘How are you?’ I ask, changing the subject, sensing he’s in a good mood.

  ‘You’ll never believe it, Polly, but I went on a date last night and … well for once there was plenty of snap, crackle and pop.’

  *

  Later on in the evening, after taking Nellie out for a quick pee, I flick through the television channels and glance at my watch. It’s quarter to ten. I think about Hugo’s call. There is he, putting himself out here and what am I doing? I’m babysitting. Maybe Janey has a point. If I spend all my time with Ben, how am I going to meet anyone else? Hugo met a Spanish artist on his radio show, Maria. ‘She has this lovely gentle voice and laughs at all my jokes,’ Hugo had said. I grab my ancient laptop from the coffee table and google the single-parent dating website that Janey mentioned months ago. Up pops a colourful picture of a family of four; a mum and dad with pearly-white teeth and two smiley kids. It reminds me of a Boots holiday snapshot. ‘Being a single parent doesn’t mean you have to sit in night after night with nothing but a cottage pie for one as company. Join our matchmaking site for free and see how finding love when you’re a parent no longer need be a pipe dream.’

  Tentatively I click the register box.

  I read: I am a man … woman. I click ‘woman’.

  Looking for a man … woman. I click ‘man’.

  The age range goes from nineteen to ninety-nine.

  Crikey. For a moment I am tempted to scroll down to ninety-nine, just to see who comes up. I decide I’m looking for a man aged thirty-five to fifty.

  I wonder what Ben and Diane are chatting about. Will they have a first-date kiss? I haven’t had many of those. Normally I went the whole hog, but that was the drink talking. It’s different now. I don’t think Ben has had many serious relationships other than the one he had in his twenties. I imagine Ben walking her home or to the bus stop. It’s quite awkward getting to the lunge moment when you’re stone-cold sober, much easier after a drink. I feel ashamed of all those times I’ve woken up with strangers, little recollection of how it all started. Strangely enough, I didn’t want to be with anyone else when I was with Matt. Our relationship was too intense; I was addicted to him, he was more than enough for me, well at least to begin with.

  It’s simple going to bed with someone when you’re drunk. It’s not so easy saying you have feelings for someone when you’re sober.

  *

  ‘Polly?’ he whispers.

  I wake up with a start, Ben kneeling down, his face so close to mine. Disorientated, I turn on the light by my side and look at my watch. It’s nearly eleven o’clock. ‘I didn’t hear you come in. How did it go?’ I ask, trying to gauge his mood.

  ‘Good.’ He picks Nellie up; she covers his face in wet kisses, treating him like a long lost friend. ‘How’s my little girl?’

  ‘Expand. What did you talk about?’

  ‘Oh, this and that.’

  ‘Did you think she’s pretty?’

  He nods. ‘How was Emily?’

  ‘What was she like? Come on, I want detail.’

  ‘She was nice.’

  ‘Nice?’ Frustrated I ask if he wants a cup of tea. ‘I’m not sensing you were bowled over, Ben.’

  ‘She was a little loud,’ he admits, joining me in the kitchen, ‘especially after she’d had a couple of drinks. Janey must have filled her in about Emily because she seemed to know all about that.’

  ‘That’s good, isn’t it? At least you didn’t have to explain.’

  ‘She also knew I didn’t drink.’ He smiles dryly. ‘When the waiter approached us with a bottle she kept on placing a hand over my glass. She meant well, but I did find it a bit irritating.’

  ‘Will you see her again?’

  ‘Not sure. Anyway, while she was in the bathroom I was looking up some places in Cornwall. I really like the sound of Fowey. It’s near the coast and we could take a boat to …’

  ‘You were doing that on a date?’

  ‘She was taking an inordinately long time in the bathroom. I want to show you one place, you’ll love it.’ He grabs my laptop, glances at the screen. ‘What’s this?’

  I blush. ‘Oh, that!’ Flustered I try to retrieve it.

  He doesn’t let go. ‘You don’t trust these sites, do you?’

  ‘Ben, it’s for single parents,’ I say, as if that makes it all right. ‘It’s no big deal. You could join,’ I tease.

  ‘I’m not happy about you meeting some sleazebag online. I mean, look at this idiot.’ He reads his profile. ‘There’s no way he’s into long country walks. I doubt he even has a child!’

  I look at a picture of a plump unhealthy-looking man, his hair greasy and styled with a mini-quiff. ‘You haven’t registered, have you?’ he asks.

  ‘I might, we’ll see. You and me, Ben, we’re young, as you point
ed out last weekend. You’re a warm-blooded male,’ I remind him, ‘and I wouldn’t mind a bit of excitement.’

  He snaps the laptop lid shut. ‘Fine, but don’t date Mr Quiff.’

  ‘If you had to describe online the kind of person you’d like to meet, what would you say?’ I ask him. This was one of the questions.

  ‘Easy. If I want to be with somebody more than watching a Test match at Lords, I’m in love.’ He laughs gently. ‘Be careful if you do this, Polly. You don’t know the kind of people you might meet.’

  ‘For two people who’ve lived quite a rocky past, we’re surprisingly risk-averse.’

  ‘Perhaps that’s because we care more about our lives now.’

  *

  After Ben has left I think about what he said. ‘Perhaps that’s because we care more about our lives now.’ The only thing I used to care about was the next drink. When I left Matt and walked into the AA meeting the following day with Aunt Viv, I wanted to be anywhere else but in that church with a bunch of losers. I wanted a drink, that’s all. My life had boiled down to nothing more than that.

  32

  2008

  The day after I’ve walked out on Matt, Aunt Viv leads me into a small church in Primrose Hill, filled with chairs lined up in rows. Dread cramps my stomach. I feel angry that she made me come here when I could be with Louis. I fidget, scratch my arm, run a hand through my hair again and again. I reach into my handbag, pull out a piece of chewing gum. Louis is with Uncle Hugo. ‘I’ll manage,’ he’d said to me. ‘How hard can it be changing a nappy? Can do it with my eyes shut.’

  I bite my lip, wanting to turn and run.

  I told Aunt Viv and Hugo repeatedly that my drinking was under control, and now that Matthew and I had split up, everything would change. ‘He was the problem. I’ll stop now,’ I’d promised. But instead, Aunt Viv has arranged an assessment tomorrow with a psychologist who specialises in addiction. ‘I met her through AA and I know you’ll like her.’ And not only that, here she is, leading me into this room with a bunch of losers. When I see the Twelve Steps written on a large board at the front, the word ‘God’ keeps on flashing in front of me.