The Girl I Used to Be

by Mary Torjussen

  “Do you think we could love another child as much?” I asked.

  “Of course we could.” His hands were in my hair and I closed my eyes as he kissed me. “Especially if we have a redhead.” He ran his fingers through my hair and kissed me again. “A redhead with green eyes, just like you.”

  “Maybe we could think about it later in the year,” I said.

  “That would be amazing.”

  “And maybe I could look at changing my hours so that I can spend more time at home.”

  I got caught up in his embrace then, but later when we were lying in bed and he was sleeping soundly beside me, I lay awake, trying to think of ways I could work fewer hours. Joe had kissed me then and I was distracted; it was only later that I realized he hadn’t agreed with me.

  FIVE

  Friday, June 23

  I CAUGHT THE afternoon train from Chester to London the following Friday and it was packed. As I hurried past the relatively empty first-class compartment, I saw a couple of women relaxing in the large, comfortable seats, glasses of gin and tonic already in their hands, and wished I’d spent the extra money and upgraded my ticket. I couldn’t justify it, though; the business wasn’t doing well enough for me to throw money away like that.

  My heart sank at Euston when I saw hordes of people queuing for the escalator to the Underground. There was a notice saying one of the tube lines was out of service, and I knew there’d be bedlam. The station was crammed and stifling with the summer heat, and I felt so hot by the time I reached the escalator for the tube that I decided to walk instead.

  I stepped outside onto Euston Square. It was early evening by then and I walked down Tottenham Court Road toward my hotel in Covent Garden. Crowds of office workers mingled with tourists, and I thought of the days I’d worked here when I was in my early twenties. I missed those days. I was working for an estate agent’s in North London and it was fast and furious then, before the downturn. Flats and houses would sell quickly for more than the asking price, and the agency could afford to be generous with bonuses and drinks after work.

  I’d known it wouldn’t be like that when I moved to Chester. And by the time I met Joe I was ready to move on. I was twenty-six then, with five years’ experience under my belt, and I was up for the challenge.

  We had a great time in those early days. I met Joe when I was in Ireland for Brendan’s wedding; Caitlin had invited me and we’d gone to her family’s local pub the night we arrived. I’d been over to Ireland to stay with her in the long summer vacations a couple of times before then, but Joe had been off backpacking those summers and I hadn’t met him. That night she and I walked into the pub and she stopped in the doorway to talk to an old friend. I went to the bar to get us drinks and watched as a band played, badly, on a makeshift stage. Joe was standing watching them, too. We hadn’t yet been introduced, but I knew instantly he was related to Caitlin; they had the same tousled blond hair, the same blue eyes, and besides, his mother had shown me enough photos of the family to recognize him. He winced at every bum note and then he saw me looking over at him and laughed.

  I said, “That bad, eh?”

  “It’s my friend’s youngest brother,” he said. “I don’t think he’s quite ready for stardom yet.”

  I looked at the guitarist, who’d dropped his head down so nobody could see his face. I could tell he was aware how badly he was playing.

  “Poor guy,” said Joe.

  When the band came off stage he went over to the guitarist and clapped him on the shoulder. I could see he was being kind to him, shaking his head as the young man protested. “It’s nerves,” I heard him say. “Next time you’ll be fine.”

  He came over to me and said, “So, you’re Gemma.” I remember I blushed then, and he said, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  We stood together at the corner of the bar for hours that night, and it was only when the pub was closing that I turned to see Caitlin smiling at us. She bundled me into the ladies’ loo before we left, and as soon as we were alone, she said, “I knew you’d like him!”

  I couldn’t deny it. I couldn’t stop smiling, either. “Why didn’t you introduce me before?”

  She hesitated, and immediately I knew what she was about to say. “Now’s the right time,” she said eventually, and I knew she meant she couldn’t have risked it before. She was right. I’d been a bit of a mess for years, but she’d helped me get through it.

  “You planned this?” I asked.

  She grinned at me and refused to answer.

  Joe was staying with a local friend, as his parents’ home, where I was staying, was full of visiting friends and relations. He offered to walk me back there that night, but we were talking so much by the time we got there that he didn’t want to let me go. He said he’d take me on a tour of his old haunts, and we walked for miles around the deserted streets of his hometown. I think I knew that night that he’d always be in my life.

  Now, as I approached the hotel, I stopped to send Joe a text.

  Just walking through Covent Garden. I know it’s not Dublin, but it’s making me think of the night we met xx

  He replied:

  Oh that was a great night. One of the best nights of my life. Last night was pretty good, too xx

  I blushed. It certainly had been.

  For me, too. Missing you both. xxx

  SIX

  IT WAS A hot night and I felt sticky and horrible from the journey and the walk to the hotel. A big corner bath was calling to me, but when I heard the sound of people talking and laughing out on the terrace below, I decided to have a shower instead and go down to see if there was anyone I knew in the bar. If there wasn’t, I planned to come back up, order some food and wine, and have a long bath and an early night.

  After a quick shower I changed into a dark green silk dress with spaghetti straps that I’d brought with me in case I went out to dinner. I put some makeup on, slipped on my sandals, and wondered who’d be there. I had to do these training days every now and then, and often I’d bump into the same crowd. It wasn’t that we kept in touch with each other outside the events, but over the years we’d gravitate toward each other whenever we met. Those of us with our own agencies understood each other’s problems, and it was always good to talk freely, in a way I didn’t like to do with people I met in Chester. I didn’t want local people knowing anything about my business worries.

  I switched both bedside lamps on, ready for when I returned later, and went down to the bar.

  “A gin and tonic, please,” I said to the barman.

  “Single? Double?” I hesitated, and he said, “Why not? Kick-start the weekend!”

  I laughed. “Go on, then.”

  Drink in hand, I turned to see who was there. The bar was crowded and I could see from the variety of lanyards and badges that there were quite a few events that weekend. I walked around the perimeter of the room but couldn’t see anyone I knew. Trying to quell my disappointment, I realized most people would probably just travel down the next morning rather than stay overnight. Usually these training sessions were a two-day event, with everyone staying over on the middle night.

  I drank my gin and ordered another, and yes, it was another double. It was a hot summer night, just the right weather for gin and tonic, and I didn’t have anyone I was responsible for. I felt if I wanted a drink, I’d damn well have one.

  Just as I’d decided to go back up to my room, my phone beeped in my bag. I checked my messages, hoping Rory was ready for a chat before he went to bed. He’d been out to a friend’s house earlier, so we’d agreed he’d call at bedtime.

  Hey Gem, are you having a good time? Rory’s just had a bath and fallen asleep. Sorry, he was going to call you. Fancy a chat? xx

  I stared at the phone. That was the one thing I’d asked him to do tonight. He knew how much I missed Rory. I didn’t want to talk to Joe now; I’d only
get angry. And I’d had a couple of drinks; I knew he’d be able to tell. I didn’t want a conversation about that. I was about to ignore his message but knew there’d be a flurry of others and I’d end up snapping at him, so I sent him a message:

  In the bath then I’m going to sleep. Will call you tomorrow xx

  In seconds he replied:

  Oh ok. Night xx

  I could sense his disappointment that I couldn’t chat and felt bad almost immediately but stopped myself in my tracks. Whenever he went away for the night I just sent the odd message, but when I went anywhere, he was never off the phone. I ignored the fact that I was usually really glad of this and drank some more gin.

  After circuiting the bar, I walked into the lobby. Again, I knew nobody there. Then I saw a group of middle-aged men walk in through the revolving door, and my stomach sank. One of them, Liam Fossett, was one of the most boring people I knew. I should have guessed he’d be here; he worked up in the northeast, so he’d have to stay overnight. When he saw me, his face lit up. He waved and I let my eyes drift past him, as though I hadn’t seen him. Out of the corner of my eye, though, I could see that he was pushing his way through the crowd toward me.

  In an instant I decided to escape to my room. I turned quickly and bumped into a man standing in a group of other people behind me. He put his hand out to steady me.

  “Careful!” he said.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t see you.”

  I looked at his glass, which had spilled red wine onto the floor, then looked up at him.

  “It’s Gemma, isn’t it?” he said. “Gemma Brogan? David Sanderson. You showed me around some properties in Chester the other day.”

  “Oh, of course! I didn’t recognize you out of context,” I said, moving back from the spilled wine. “I’m really sorry I knocked your drink. Let me get you another.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m on a training course,” I said. “It’s about new money-laundering regulations. It’s easier to come to a course and get all the literature than try to figure it out myself.”

  “Nice to get away for the weekend, too, I bet?”

  I laughed. “Yes, sometimes it’s good to have a break. It’s pretty hectic with work and a young child.”

  “Is your family down here with you?”

  I shook my head. “No. My son’s only three. I didn’t dare tell him I was going on a train. He’d have been harassing me for ages to come with me.”

  He laughed. “I was like that when I was a kid. The best part of any holiday was always the journey.”

  I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I flinched. I knew who that would be.

  “Hi, Liam.” I tried to dodge his wet kiss on my cheek but didn’t quite manage it. I felt David’s arm brush against mine for just a second, and I knew he’d noticed my reaction. “How are you?”

  “Great, thanks, Gem,” he said. “We’re going in to dinner soon. Come and join us?”

  I looked at him, at his red face with its slight glaze of sweat. I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to do less.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” said David. “Gemma’s having dinner with me.”

  I looked at him. I am? I kept my face straight.

  Liam looked at David, then at me. “You want to join us, too?”

  David shook his head. “Sorry, it’s business. I need to ask her advice. I’m afraid she’ll be busy for the next couple of hours.”

  Liam nodded reluctantly. “All right. Maybe a drink later?”

  I smiled. “Maybe.”

  David and I watched as he made his way back to his friends. He leaned toward me and whispered in my ear, “You owe me.”

  I laughed. “You have saved my life.”

  He smiled. “You’re lucky I was here.”

  “No kidding. But what are you doing here?”

  “Oh, I’ve been in London for business.”

  “With Barford’s?”

  “You’ve got a good memory! Yes, I’m meeting some suppliers. I’ve been staying here all week and need to see someone again in the morning. I’ll go back north tomorrow.”

  “Still looking for a house?” I smiled at him, hoping I didn’t sound too cheeky.

  He laughed. “Yeah, sorry I haven’t been in touch. There was a hitch on my mortgage because I was waiting for the money from my house sale in Boston, but it’s all through now and the bank’s ready to go ahead.”

  “Well, get in touch whenever you’re ready,” I said. “I’ll find you a good deal.” I could feel that my face was hot now and didn’t know whether it was the drink. I put my empty glass down on a side table and turned to go. “Thanks for getting me off the hook with Liam.”

  “I don’t suppose you would have dinner with me, would you?” He saw me hesitate and said quickly, “You’d be doing me a huge favor. I’ve been sitting here on my own night after night.” He grinned. “And I’d hate that guy to think you’d stood me up.”

  I paused. I’d been about to go up to my room. I thought of my earlier plans to order room service and have a long bath in peace. I was so tired after this week at work.

  And then I thought of the potential sale. Okay, he was a good-looking guy and he did make me laugh, but my business brain was the one I used when I said, “Okay, but I’ll pay.” He started to object, but I said, “It’s a business expense. You’re a client.” It wasn’t an expense I could afford, but if it led to a sale it would be well worth the money. An investment.

  He laughed. “Well, that would be very nice. Thank you.”

  I saw Liam looking over at me. “Shall we go now?” I gave Liam a little wave, and David and I walked through the bar to the restaurant.

  SEVEN

  THAT NIGHT SEEMED to fly by in a flash. It had been a long time since I’d been to dinner with a man on my own, and I was surprised at how comfortable I felt. The waiter came over and asked us about drinks.

  I looked at the wine menu. “You were drinking red wine, weren’t you?” I asked David. “Shall I get a bottle?”

  “That would be great, thanks.”

  I ordered a bottle of Barolo and David poured us a glass each while he talked me through the menu, telling me which meals he’d had while he was down there. He told me about the places he’d lived abroad: Boston, Dallas, and Hong Kong.

  “You’re in sales, aren’t you?” I asked.

  “Yeah. It’s not for everyone, but I’m happy in that kind of environment. As long as the company’s reputable. You’ve got to believe in the products.”

  “And Barford’s is a good company?”

  “They’ve been great. Sent me all over the place. I love that.”

  “I wish I’d worked abroad in my twenties,” I said. “I don’t think I realized when I was child-free that I should have done as much traveling as I could then.”

  “It can be hard work, moving around, though. You lose touch with your old friends and you can be moved on at any time. It’s hard to fit in, sometimes.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Still, you’re in a great position now. You have a family and it looks like your business is going well.”

  I hesitated, not wanting to admit that in this economy people were avoiding buying right then. Of course in any climate people wanted to buy low and sell high, but I was noticing it now more than ever. In the end, he was a potential client, so I just said, “Yes, it’s going well. I’m very lucky.”

  “You look tired. Busy week?”

  I nodded. “Always.”

  “Why not forget about work for a while? Have a night off.” He picked up the wine we’d ordered. “Fancy another?”

  I looked at the bottle and then back at David. I already had a buzz on and could feel my skin tingling. I’d reached my limit with the drinks I’d already had; I knew
better than to drink more but suddenly the lure of another couple of glasses and some carefree conversation with another adult—okay, another man—was too great.

  I pushed my glass toward him. “Why not?”

  * * *

  * * *

  WE STAYED IN the restaurant for a few hours, enjoying our meal and a few drinks. He was great company, talking about his life overseas and living in London as a student. I felt completely at ease with him; he was entertaining and funny and I felt sure he’d come back to the office in the next couple of weeks to see some more properties. I made a mental note to get everyone at work onto looking for a suitable place; after talking to him I had a good idea of the sort of lifestyle he wanted.

  It took a while at the end of the night for our bill to arrive, and then when it did, the waiter stayed at the other side of the restaurant chatting with a waitress and, despite my waves, didn’t meet my eye. I sighed and went over to him to ask him to bring the card machine. When I got back to our table, David was pouring the last of the wine into our glasses.

  “Thanks for the meal,” said David. He picked up his glass. “Cheers!”

  Automatically I raised my glass to his. “You’re welcome,” I said, and drank the wine. I looked at my watch. “I have to go; I’ve got an early start tomorrow.” I felt unsteady when I stood. “Gosh, I’ve drunk far too much!” I looked down at the table and frowned. Two bottles of wine were empty—I didn’t think I’d had much more than a couple of glasses. “Did we drink all that?”

  He laughed. “I’m afraid so. But it’s Friday night, time to let our hair down,” he said. “It’s my fault, I think. I drank far more than you did.”

  I blinked hard. “Ugh, I’m going to have such a hangover.”