Precious You

by Helen Monks Takhar

  I thought I was starting to understand your modus operandi. And if I could understand that, I could understand you and if I could do this, then I could win. I’d felt this way before—the time right before my mother died. Seems I’m never calmer than in the darkest hours before the dawn.

  APRIL 8—DAYS OF JUSTICE

  One last hurdle to clear.

  When I know for sure she’s realized she has nothing left in the world, that’s when I’ll sock it to her. I’ll tell her about the universe of pain she’s caused, and why it had to be this way.

  In the meantime, life is sweet, a pretty warped sweet, I guess, but I have moments in the day when I feel something like OK. Now that he’s through the worst of the detox, Iain looks after me like no one I’ve ever been with. It’s really no work at all. It feels like the kind of stable, predictable domestic setup I’ve never had. Like the one I nearly had with Charlie. Iain cooks dinner for me every night and he thinks my “best self” is whatever one comes home to him. I’ve stopped trying so hard to play the woman of his dreams. I am the woman of his dreams, just by showing up. He doesn’t ask anything of me, and what I give, I find I give quite freely. It’s feeling rather easy because now that I’m here, I’ve stopped looking for the angles. The relief is overwhelming. I guess I’m ready for what I’ve found with Iain.

  I feel like I’m changing and so is he. He doesn’t drink anymore and he says he’s finding it easy. He was looking for reasons not to drink; now he has one: me.

  She was gone, but he wouldn’t let me see him at first. He wanted to become “the man he knows he can be.” He was drying out and had been prescribed something to make it less awful. Apparently, the first forty-eight hours are the worst, so, after three days, I called him to say the concierge of the building was coming on to me. I didn’t feel safe there anymore. He was letting himself into my flat. Was there any way I could crash at his…?

  He left me alone on the first night “out of respect for Her,” but by the time the sun was coming up, he was knocking on the door of the spare room, asking if I’d just let him talk to me, explaining how restless nights were a symptom of detoxing, that’s all. By the second night, he was asking to sleep in the spare room with me to try and find some “peace,” an evening that ended with the inevitable.

  By the end of the first week, we’d fallen into their bed. I think I could smell her still, on her pillow.

  One time, a few days later, just after we’d finished, I had an idea. I shot up out of bed.

  “Did you hear that? Keys in the door…It’s her.” I grabbed his arm in supposed panic. He froze and we listened a while to the silence while the threat of her finding us sank into his consciousness, eventually saying, “I guess we’re all right now, but she does still have keys, right? Do you think it would be a better idea, just temporarily, to change the locks while you properly dry out and we work out how to tell her? She can’t find out like this. I couldn’t do it to her.”

  In the morning, a locksmith was called.

  By the end of week two, the clothes she’d left were shoved into the corner of the wardrobe. He tipped out the rest of her drawers into the Samsonites they used to drag onto EasyJet flights to the mini-break destinations of Europe. These ended up in the spare room. He’d never felt so alive. Or in love. “This is the happiest I’ve ever been,” I tell him, because in a strange way, it really is. I’m looked after, I have a secure home, no money issues for the time being, since Gem made me Acting Head of Content. Bigger than that, I know my finale is nearly here. The punishment nearly done, my revenge almost completely executed. Everything is feeling so good right now. The breaking of bone. The chance to reset it cleanly.

  Things got a bit sticky with Gemma, but not for long. She’d called me into the office to give my testimony.

  “Tell me, Lily, honestly, what do you think you’re doing with Katherine Ross’s partner? I need you to look me in the eye and tell me the truth.”

  “The truth is we became friends. We bonded very strongly and very quickly over our shared interest, writing. Then, things just developed.”

  “Just developed.”

  “These things happen. You remember that? You know what it’s like to fall for someone who’s already with someone else? At least Iain isn’t actually married. No kids either. So that’s pretty clean, wouldn’t you say?”

  As Mum told me on the sly, Gem’s Big Love was a married guy with three children. She met him at her golf club in Norfolk. A lot of people got hurt by the affair, especially her when he decided to scuttle back to the wife. I was primed and ready to detonate this little grenade of truth. I’d been practicing where and how I’d drop it. I deployed my reality bomb perfectly. Gem wanted the whole conversation done with quickly.

  “We’re not talking about me, or mistakes that may have been made in the past…If this is one of your stunts, I need you to put an end to it right now. This looks very bad for me and for you. It was you, after all, who insisted we retain Katherine Ross. What’s this really about, Lily? Tell me now, say you’ll end whatever it is you’re doing now, and I promise to help fix whatever needs fixing.”

  “Nothing needs fixing, Gem. This is about…life surprising you. You understand that.”

  Gem blinks and looks right at me again.

  “If I find out there’s more to this, there will be consequences. If you value your new role and your allowance, you’ll tell me if there’s more to this immediately.”

  “I don’t know how many other ways I need to tell you. I’ve fallen for someone I probably shouldn’t have. No need to threaten to take away my sweeties.” Too much. At this I get The Face. Teeth gritted, cheeks puffing out. “Gemma, I promise you, there’s nothing more to it than what I’ve said. Obviously, clearly, I’m really sorry it’s causing you so much hassle. I get it. If I tell you that it’s serious, that I’m feeling better than I’ve done since before, you know, would it make a bit more sense to you? It’s early days with him, but I think, against all odds, I might actually be in something that could make me happy. That’s the truth…We haven’t always known if I’d ever get to feel happy again. This is big for me.”

  The Face disappears. She’s bought in. Of course she is, she doesn’t want to believe all of this is “one of my stunts,” because that would mean she is wrong and my mum is right about me being “wrong in the head.” It also would mean Gemma Lunt, hard-nosed woman of business, is a sucker. Neither of these are allowed to be possible.

  “Well, if that’s the case, then…that’s that…Just be careful, OK?”

  “Always. Thank you, Gem, I knew you’d understand.”

  She nods. Looks at me with eyes weighed down with empathy, then, “I need to ask you about one more thing. Can you shed any light on any of these transactions?” She shows me Katherine’s Leadership Media credit card statement. Champagne at the Rosewood, the leather jacket, shirt, pencil skirt, and cocktail dress from her favorite boutique in Stoke Newington, the insanely expensive hotel for the night of the party in Sussex. Quite a rap sheet of profligacy. So KR.

  “Wow! Not a clue, I’m afraid. Sorry.”

  “Lily, Katherine said the card has never been in her possession.”

  I could sense Gem preparing to analyze my every next word, every tiny movement of my face, just as she had done every time she’d questioned me over some “incident” or “unpleasantness” or “stunt” I’d ever “got caught up in.” I could see I needed to go a little further to convince her I knew nothing about the spending. If I didn’t play this right, she’d start to wonder how someone unpaid like me could possibly afford my beautiful new leather jacket or my dress for the awards. I know by now you can hide whatever lies you choose in plain sight, as long as they’re lies people want to believe and as long as you know when to use the right pieces of the truth.

  “That’s weird. Sounds like she’s trying to cover her tracks?
I mean, she never really got how this place isn’t her own personal cash machine. I tried to help her see things are different now, but she never listened when she so needed to. Like when she used racist language around Asif. I tried to help her. I told her it was wrong. She wouldn’t hear it.”

  “She did what?”

  “Yeah, on day two of me being here. She’d said something, like, so offensive to Asif, trying to be cool, I guess. She said she was ‘down with the brown’ or something else about the color of his skin? I tried to help her understand why it wasn’t OK, but she didn’t want to change. She didn’t think she needed to.”

  Gem shakes her head. She’s stunned. “Asif would corroborate this?”

  “Yes. I’m sure he would.”

  “Well, that’s gross misconduct. She’s gone. That’s it. What a shameful way to end her career.”

  “It is. It’s a real shame for her and for us. For me. I thought I was doing the right thing, helping to keep her on. I guess I’m still learning too. I’m sorry.”

  Gem smiles, squeezes my shoulder.

  “You did your best for her. We all did. As long as you keep trying your very best, that’s all I’ve ever wanted from you, you know that.”

  “OK, I’d better get back to it. I’m planning forward features for next year. Things are going to change around here, I promise, for the better.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  “Oh, before I go, I’m guessing you’ll be clearing her things. Her filing cabinet included?”

  “Oh God, yes, it’s ghastly.”

  “Some of the interns were wondering if it would be possible to use the floorspace for an air purifier? It would make a real difference to their quality of life here. Be good for morale?”

  “Great idea. I’ll ask Facilities to get onto it today.”

  Later that day, the filing cabinet is forced open by security, its paper guts spilling out all over the floor. In among the rubbish is the final evidence Gem needs: the maxed-out card KR has never seen and I’ve been using to turn myself into a younger, better version of her. It’s like that hunk of sad gray metal has been watching me from the corner of the office since I got here, like it knew its days were numbered. It’s such a total relic, fit to burst with pointless old spiral-bound reporter’s notepads and back issues from her heyday. There was almost no room for me to slip the card into the thin gap between the lock and the bottom drawer when I popped into the office on the Sunday after the house party. I couldn’t wait to see it gone.

  But poor Asif. Though he was getting super-annoying, it wasn’t easy having to watch him being marched out of the office by security on the same day KR was suspended. Gem, on the other hand, could hardly hide her delight when she told me he’d both stood by my story about Katherine’s racist outburst, and had been shown by IT to be the one sending KR death threats. For Gem, order has been restored. I am completely innocent of all charges. All is well in my world.

  I sleep so well in KR’s bed. Sometimes I’m dead asleep at 8 P.M. The draw of it. The sleep of the just.

  It had been nearly three weeks. Any novelty my work-free, car-sleeping existence held had gone. The credit cards were teetering on the brink and the “investigation” seemed to have ground into the sand. Perhaps their tactic was to let me bleed to death financially while I awaited my fate, then maybe offer me some miserable sum just to make sure I’d go quickly and quietly, once they knew for sure I’d be truly desperate.

  I’d given Iain the best part of his month to get his shit together. I’d stayed away mostly, except for the occasional time in the middle of the night, when the pills wouldn’t give me rest, when I’d sometimes park up on my road and watch my flat until I fell asleep, waking at dawn to the sound of foxes going through recycling bins.

  I’d decided I’d done everything he’d asked of me for long enough, and let myself have a night at The Rose and Crown, confident it would all be over soon. I’d be able to get home, share my partner’s money again, rebuild our lives. I knew he’d ultimately be relieved I’d made the decision as to when we came back together again out of his hands. He always looked for me to lead when it came to us. This would be no different.

  On the pub’s roof terrace, with a cup of black coffee in my hands, gazing at the spire of St. Mary’s, everything felt like it might be right again. My thoughts were clear. What Iain and I were, it had a rich, dark patina that you, Lily, could never replicate or replace. You couldn’t provide what I could. I accommodated him, while you would fight his true nature. And your assault on Iain (how else could you describe it?) and my career, my best guess at that stage was that you did a whole lot of shit just because you were so entitled. You thought yourself so precious, you believed you deserved everything someone like me has worked so hard for. I couldn’t get closer to the truth than this, so it was going to have to be enough.

  I felt that if I crossed paths with you that morning, before I headed out over the park back to Manor House, I would be very sporting about it all. I would advise you, in a sisterly way, to concentrate your efforts elsewhere and make sure you had something else going for you than great tits and a fuck-me smile because, believe you me, you were going to need it in less than ten years’ time.

  It wasn’t yet eight by the time I’d decided I was ready to head home.

  I didn’t believe Iain would be sober. Without me there, he’d most likely be coming around about now. I waited for the butchers on Church Street to open and picked up the bacon and black pudding I knew he loved, and stopped by a bakery for a fresh loaf of sourdough (£4.80’s worth!). I wouldn’t let myself in, I’d press the buzzer, see if he was interested in my thoughtful offering (he would be). I’d put no pressure on him to start with, watch him cook while speaking of all the time I’d had to think, how much better I was feeling, how I’d started to look for a new job, begun writing again (I hadn’t yet, even with all those empty hours). He and I would laugh. It would get to lunchtime. He would need a drink. I’d join him. We’d end up back in bed, or just screw on the sofa like the old days. He’d let me in again. I’d given him time and this was how that time was going to end.

  So, I set off over the park, my overpriced groceries in my hand, buoyed by a sense of destiny and redemption. The trees bristled with life. I breathed the goodness of the park into me, until I was just approaching the Green Lanes gate. My eyes found themselves on him.

  Iain.

  That was him, wasn’t it? How could I have forgotten my partner’s face after just a few weeks? So lean, so young. He was running toward me. He was running. He hadn’t seen me yet. This wasn’t how I planned it, but decided it was a good sign that fate had brought us together.

  He saw me. His face fell. He tried to keep jogging, then thought again and started walking toward me. He looked like a stranger. My Iain: a total stranger.

  “Fancy seeing you here.” I instinctively went to kiss him on the cheek, like an acquaintance. He accepted the gesture and my heart began to break. He didn’t even smell like Iain. No sweet boozy scent.

  “Yeah.”

  “You look fantastic.”

  “You look great too. You always did. You always do.”

  I nodded, smiling and blinking into the sunlight behind him. He looked around for words he couldn’t find. “Where’ve you been staying? You hook up with Donna again, or Debbie whatshername?”

  “No, not her. Not them.”

  “OK. Well, you look well. Where you off to?”

  “To see you.”

  “Right.”

  “It’s time you and I talked, don’t you think?” And suddenly, I could tell he was trying not to cry, nodding into the middle distance as tears filled his eyes. “Can I come around? Can I come home yet, Iain?”

  He shook his head. “Things…Things have changed. I’ve changed.”

  “How? Is it her? Her? You know, she won’t last
the distance. Neither will you.”

  “It is her—” he began.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Iain.”

  “It’s her, but! But it’s mostly me. I’m sober, love, I’m writing again. I feel like I’ve got some kind of a chance again.”

  “That’s great! You’re dry, you’re writing. You’ve achieved what you set out to do and now it’s time to get to a new future. But that’s not with her. You have to know that.”

  Silence for a while. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully. “Me and you. I don’t want to say it here, but I don’t know that I’m good for you and I don’t know that you’re good for me. I love the bones of you, but…I can’t anymore. I’m sorry.”

  “Can’t we just talk about it at least?”

  “We do need to talk, but only to try and sort out our lives. Our affairs, or whatever.”

  “You know, I didn’t sign her off. I never signed her off!”

  “You’re talking sign-off now? Seriously?”

  “Yes. I am. The rules. Our rules. You let me down. You broke them!”

  “The rules? What about your man, Asif? Think I wouldn’t find out? You’ve been lying to me all along.”

  “I have not.”

  “Shagging you in the toilets in exchange for a good report? That’s what he told Lily. Fuck me, love. Were you that desperate?”

  “It wasn’t like that. And it was after I’d had to see you fuck Lily. Remember?” He rubbed his eyes and then looked behind me, like he was searching for an escape route. I went on, “I think it’s right to say we’ve both made mistakes, but I know we can sort things out; we can get through this, we’ve been through far worse.”