The Space Between Us

by Anna McPartlin

  ‘You’re right,’ he admitted.

  ‘Do you like the way I look?’ Eve asked. ‘Don’t be afraid to tell the truth. If I’m not your type I can take it.’

  ‘I’m your doctor,’ he said, feeling a mixture of sadness and discomfort.

  ‘You won’t be for ever, so answer me.’

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said.

  ‘So when I get out of here, take me on a date.’

  ‘I can’t, Eve,’ he said.

  ‘You could if you wanted to. Life’s too short, Adam, and we could have some fun,’ she shrugged, ‘so you can’t blame a girl for asking.’

  ‘I’m your doctor,’ he repeated, and moved to leave.

  ‘Adam,’ Eve said, ‘whatever happens or doesn’t happen with us, be Lily’s friend. She doesn’t have many and she counts on you. Don’t hang in there hoping it will turn into something else because it won’t. She’s never going to love you like that because if it were possible she’d love you now. Don’t hold it against her.’

  He thanked her and didn’t come to see her again for three days.

  Hey, Ben, did I tell you? I really messed up with Adam.

  Lily spent August avoiding her husband as much as possible. He was making life extremely difficult, turning up in any and all places at the most inopportune moments. It had got so bad that the only time she felt safe from him was when he was in surgery, so she did a little spying of her own, keeping tabs on when it was safe to share her coffee or lunch break with Clooney.

  Lily knew she was falling in love with Clooney. She knew that, even though they weren’t having sex, she was cheating on her husband and that with every look, glance, touch and tender moment she and Clooney shared she moved further away from him. She tried to pretend to herself that it was simply friendship and that Clooney was like family, but she knew and he knew that there was something between them. They were playing a dangerous game, and it was exciting and fun, and Lily hadn’t felt so alive in a very long time. But she was a wife and a mother, and Clooney was the kind of man who came into a woman’s life, made her feel special for a while, then left. He had never promised to be anything else. He wasn’t a liar – like his sister he shot from the hip. He never made promises he couldn’t keep. They talked about what he would do and where he would go after Eve had made a full recovery. He never said he’d stay, and Lily never even intimated that she’d like him to. Every day they could, they would sit together and drink each other in, both living on the tiny touches that mean so much when you’re falling hopelessly in love. They lived in the moment, as Eve and Ben had once done, because in the moment there was no husband or kids or guilt or faraway countries calling – there was only Lily and Clooney, electrically charged and fizzing around one another.

  Eve would have had to be blind not to see what was happening but she said nothing. She would not interfere. She had done that once before and it had cost her dearly.

  August was passing quickly and Eve was getting stronger every day. Lily worried about a future that didn’t include her caring for Eve and spending time with Clooney. She couldn’t imagine life returning to the way it had been. I was so unhappy for so long. When Lily wasn’t lost in Clooney, when she returned to the real world, the guilt she felt was so immense it threatened to choke her. She was down to a ridiculously low weight; she suffered from stress headaches and a kidney infection that wouldn’t go away. Although she was sleeping, she had dizzy spells. She knew she couldn’t go on like that. She spent days and nights thinking about the effect a break-up would have on the kids. Her whole adult life had been about her kids, she had dedicated herself to them – she had lost her youth to taking care of them – and although she had been taken for granted and had allowed herself to be treated as a second-class citizen in her own house, she had few regrets: motherhood was her greatest pleasure and achievement. But she had been dying slowly for many years, so miserable it hadn’t seemed to matter – until suddenly she had seen light and hope, and the possibility of a better future. Clooney was not the answer – he’d never stay – but the way he made her feel had ignited in her the spirit to fight for a better life. I deserve better.

  One afternoon she joined Eve and Clooney in the gardens. Eve was in her wheelchair but determined to use her crutches so Lily and Clooney walked with her, wobbling and cursing, between them. Declan was involved in a long surgery so Lily didn’t feel the need to be careful. She was just enjoying an August day with some old friends. It was innocent and she was happy. She had an hour for lunch. They spent half of it walking Eve around, and when she was exhausted but determined to make her own way up to her room in the electronically powered wheelchair, with her crutches lying across her lap, they stayed behind. Lily hadn’t been feeling well all day. She was used to getting on with things no matter how poorly she felt, but her back was killing her, the antibiotics she was taking for the kidney infection still weren’t working and she was battling waves of nausea. Clooney placed his jacket on his lap and she lay there while he stroked her hair and they reminisced about Danny. She had loved him so much she filled up and he wiped away her tears.

  ‘He loved you too,’ he said.

  When the hour was over she stood up quickly – a little too quickly: she fainted. She came round in Clooney’s arms.

  ‘You should see a doctor,’ he said.

  ‘Handy that I’m here then,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘You need to take care of yourself,’ he said.

  ‘I will,’ she lied.

  He hugged her tightly and she held on as long as she could. ‘You can’t go on like this,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘We can’t go on like this.’

  When he was sure she was OK and she was steady on her feet, she told him that she’d see him later and left him sitting on the grass to think about what they were playing at.

  He didn’t see the guy with the camera photographing their every move. He hadn’t noticed him on any day over the previous month – he was used to seeing the same faces every day and they tended to blur into the background. He sat in the garden for another few minutes before returning to Eve. When he passed the guy on a bench taking a picture of the fountain, he commented on the camera. The guy smiled and nodded, and Clooney walked on, unaware that evidence was being gathered and that Lily was in danger.

  When Adam returned to Eve’s room after the three-day sabbatical, he did so rather sheepishly.

  ‘Well?’ she said.

  ‘Well what?’

  ‘How did your date go?’ she asked.

  He relaxed, sat down and told her. ‘You were right,’ he said.

  ‘She was ugly.’

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘just not my type.’

  ‘When can I get out of here?’

  ‘Well, you’re doing great so, all going well, maybe next week.’

  ‘And then you’ll ask me out.’

  He shook his head but he was smiling, and she knew he was considering her proposal. They remained silent for a minute or so, both quite content to be still in one another’s company.

  Eve looked at him. He was so busy thinking she could almost see the mouse run on the wheel. ‘What are you thinking?’ she asked.

  ‘That Lily is falling for your brother.’

  ‘Oh, you spotted that.’

  ‘Hard to miss.’

  ‘It is when you’re interested,’ she said.

  ‘I can’t just switch it off.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Do you think she’ll leave Declan?’ he said.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Does he love her?’

  ‘Clooney?’ she asked.

  He nodded.

  ‘I think he’s always loved her,’ she answered, ‘but Clooney’s a rolling stone. He might be what Lily wants but he’ll never be what she needs.’

  ‘Why do you like me, Eve?’

  ‘You’re kind, gentle, you have a great laugh, a good sense of humour, you’re accomplished but you aren’t defined by what you do. You’re
sexy, athletic, warm, and I think you’d be really good in the sack. Speaking of which, when do you think I’ll be match fit?’

  He laughed. ‘You’re a very interesting woman.’

  ‘OK, well, that’s a start.’

  ‘I had a dream about you the other night,’ he said.

  ‘Good or bad?’

  ‘Good – very good.’

  She grinned. ‘Now you’re talking!’

  It was a Friday night. Clooney met Gar and Paul for a drink in the local pub. Gar had forgiven Paul, who had called up to his house and asked him to be his best man. Paul didn’t acknowledge his friend’s anger, disappointment and frustration. He had simply told him he wanted him to be his best man and promised that he had no more secrets. ‘What you see is what you get,’ he said.

  ‘Finally.’

  Paul smirked. ‘It was a long time coming.’

  ‘All you had to do was be honest about who you are.’

  ‘It’s easy when you know but it took me a long time to work it out.’

  ‘You were always a bit slow,’ Gar said.

  ‘So will you be my best man?’

  ‘Yeah, of course I will.’

  Paul pulled him into a hug and they slapped each other on the back. No more conversation necessary.

  It was seven weeks to the wedding and Paul had spent the day picking out menus and registering for gifts. He wanted a quick drink and wasn’t in the mood to talk. He switched into listening mode, allowing Clooney and Gar to entertain him with their argument on whether or not Brian O’Driscoll was the greatest rugby player in the world or whether he was just a good rugby player from Ireland. That argument lasted a good half-hour. Every now and again they would look to him to add his comment but he remained silent and pensive. They talked about soccer and the matches that would be played the following day. They made a bet as to who would win in a game between Manchester United and Liverpool. They talked about weapons of mass destruction, the fall of Communism, ethnic cleansing, Kim Kardashian and wave energy. Paul remained quiet throughout.

  Eventually Clooney remarked on Paul’s silence. ‘You haven’t said two words.’

  ‘Tired of talking, been talking all day, can’t talk any more,’ he said.

  ‘He does this,’ Gar said.

  ‘If you’re so tired, why did you come out?’ Clooney asked.

  ‘Because if I stay home Simone will want to keep talking,’ he said.

  Gar burst out laughing. ‘Welcome to living with a woman!’

  ‘You can’t help who you fall in love with,’ Paul said, ‘but if I could it would be a man.’

  Paul was going through a transitionary period in his life and he was happy but also fearful. Everything was changing so fast and he hoped he was fit for the challenge. What kind of husband will I be? What kind of father? Will this woman be enough for me? More importantly, will I be enough for her? Introducing her to his family had been scary. Predictably, his mother had reacted with joy and praised God for putting her son back on the path towards Heaven. It had sickened him. She had fawned over Simone as though she had been sent directly by God in answer to a mother’s prayers. Over dinner, Simone had told the story of how they had met. His father had carried on eating quietly as she spoke, Paul’s brother and his wife were not quite sure what to think, and his mother had interrupted every second sentence to thank God.

  ‘We were in a pub in town,’ she said.

  ‘The power of prayer,’ Paul’s mother said.

  ‘We just started talking and I don’t know – something clicked.’

  ‘And that’s the power of prayer!’ she said again, slapping the table.

  ‘I knew straight away,’ Simone said, and she smiled at him.

  But Paul wasn’t in the mood for smiling. He was in the mood for fighting. He wanted to hurt his mother the way she had hurt him every time she’d insisted he needed to be saved. How fucking dare you? You’re the reason I hated myself till I was twenty-six. You’re the reason I thought about killing myself every day I lived in your house. You’re the reason I’ve spent so many years hiding I don’t know how to stop. The power of prayer! If prayer had any power you would have been hit by a bus.

  Simone could see him smarting and she could feel his pain. She turned to his mother and smiled sweetly. ‘We’re going to aim to be faithful, but at the end of the day he’s always going to yearn for a bit of cock and sure that’s only natural,’ she said.

  Paul’s mother’s mouth had fallen open. She’d dropped her fork and looked around her as though she was hearing things. Paul’s brother Alan had burst out laughing and his wife joined in. Paul had just sat grinning. ‘I love you,’ he said to Simone.

  ‘I love you too,’ she said, and kissed him, ‘exactly as you are.’ His mother had been rendered dumb.

  Paul’s father had said nothing. He had reacted badly to Paul’s coming out but over the years he had grown used to having a gay son. Now he was bisexual, getting married and having a baby. It was all a bit much. He had read a few pamphlets but they’d raised more questions. Christ, I’d need to do a degree in this bloody thing. He didn’t know how to feel or what to say so he kept quiet. Paul was like his dad in that respect: when in doubt he’d say nothing and hope it would all work out.

  ‘Do you think Eve will be able to dance at my wedding?’ Paul asked Clooney, over his fourth pint.

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Why? Do you want to make sure there’s someone worse than you on the dance floor?’ Gar asked.

  ‘Something like that,’ Paul said. He might not have been one to talk about his emotions but he felt things intensely. He had been rocked by Eve’s accident and the possibility that he might lose her. With Eve he could quietly be himself. She accepted him as he was, heterosexual, gay, bisexual, quiet, secretive. Eve allowed people to be who they were and she either liked them or didn’t. She was the polar opposite of him and he found her open nature, strength and confidence comforting. Her searing honesty and her devil-may-care attitude inspired him. He was a sentimental old sod behind his calm demeanour. Eve’s near-miss had reminded him that, in Simone and the baby, he had love and security and he was terrified it would all go away. What if I don’t deserve this? What if they’re taken from me? What if I fail them? He had nightmares, seeing Eve dying on the ground, seeing Simone beside her and the baby covered with blood. When he had woken up screaming, Simone was beside him to soothe him and talk him down.

  One afternoon when they were alone together, he told Eve about the nightmares. It was the first time he’d really opened up to her about anything personal. If she realized it was a major step forward in their relationship, she didn’t make a fuss about it.

  ‘Perfectly normal to be anxious,’ she said.

  ‘I’m scared I’ll let them down,’ he said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because …’

  ‘Because what?’

  ‘You know why.’

  ‘Can I be honest?’ she said.

  ‘You’re always honest.’

  ‘I know, but I’m asking permission because what I have to say is harsh.’

  ‘OK,’ he said tentatively.

  ‘You don’t think you’re good enough because you were raised by an ignorant phobic woman who told you every day of your life that because you liked men there was something wrong with you. You need to realize that you’re a better, stronger person than your mother and you need to stop torturing yourself.’

  ‘OK,’ he said, smiling. ‘That wasn’t so harsh.’

  ‘I’m not finished. You’re like me – we’re selfish, restless people. We do what we want to do when we want to do it, we get bored easily and we put ourselves first. Let’s face it, we’re both adult baby arseholes, and in your case, it’s time to put others before yourself and that’s scary.’

  He laughed. ‘I can do that. Simone makes it easy.’

  ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Then you’ll be fine.’

  ‘What about you? Are you going to grow out of bei
ng an adult baby arsehole?’

  ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘Fair enough.’

  Gar and Paul were watching snooker on the TV over the bar and Clooney was lost in his own world, thinking about Lily. He was worried. She was fading away in front of his eyes. She spent her life running around after people and taking care of everyone but herself. He wanted to wrap her up in cotton wool and care for her. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, and every time he did he battled the urge to run to her house and save her from the man she should never have married. Clooney didn’t know Declan but he did know that Eve hated him, and that he was the reason the girls hadn’t spoken for twenty years. He was also aware that Lily was at a crossroads. She would choose either Declan or herself. Clooney had been there the last time she had faced that decision and she had chosen Declan. Who’s it going to be, Lily?

  While Clooney was sitting in the pub with Gar and Paul, Lily’s crisis came to a head.

  Scott’s car had broken down and his grandfather was keeping it in the garage. Lily had said she’d pick him up and it was after seven when she got there. Scott and his granddad were happy, both under cars with the radio on. Lily hadn’t been into the garage since she was a young girl. The place was exactly the same but the vibe had changed. Scott rolled out from under his car as did his granddad. They were two peas in a pod, happily covered with grease, sharing a rag to wipe their hands, talking easily with one another. It was a different world from the bleak place she remembered. She said no to a coffee and was anxious to leave.

  Scott’s grandfather smiled at her. ‘It’s nice to see you back in here,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Donovan,’ she said.

  ‘How many times? It’s Jack.’

  Lily would never be comfortable using her husband’s father’s first name because for so long he had been Mr Donovan, the ogre she dared not speak to.

  ‘He’d make a serious mechanic,’ he said of Scott, ‘but I suppose his dad wouldn’t like that.’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll be happy with whatever Scott chooses,’ she said.