Page 51

Chapter 51

February 2011

Tess looks up to the top floor of the Edinburgh tenement, four sets of sash windows above, and sees that the curtains are partly closed, and there is pale light behind them.

It’s a few minutes after eight.

Politely late, her father would have called it.

Fiona will have been as good as her word, Tess thinks, and will probably be uncorking a bottle of something red, to go with the pizza.

There will be a pile of recycling needing to be sorted, and a fortnight’s worth of dust bunnies in the crevices of the hall.

It’s all quite comfortingly predictable.

She presses the entry buzzer and waits for it to crackle into life.

By the time she gets to the top floor she is out of breath, but Baxter is not troubled in the slightest. The door to the flat is open, and as she goes in, she can see that a mountain of laundry is stacked up on the sofa in the living room.

Fiona is attempting to pair up school socks, holding them up to the light in an attempt to work out the difference between newish black and three-months-old-washed-a-dozen-times black.

‘I’m just about finished, I think.

’ Fiona abandons the task with relief.

‘Would you like wine or something soft with your pizza?’

‘Both,’ replies Tess, ‘but I’ll start with a can of that San Pellegrino you’ve always got in the fridge, and a bowl of water for Baxter.

’

Fiona scoops up the bundles of paired socks.

‘I’ll be through as soon as I’ve put these away.

’

In the kitchen there is another heap of clean clothes lying beside the dryer, waiting to be ironed into submission, and there’s a higgledy-piggledy stack of library books on the worktop next to the fruit bowl.

The bananas look well past their best.

Tess exhales slowly.

She is needed.

‘I hate laundry. Have I mentioned that before?’ Fiona says as she comes into the kitchen.

She opens the fridge and hands over a chilled can.

‘Tell me whatever you want to tell me. No pressure. Take your time.’

‘OK.’ Tess sits down at the table and studies the pattern on the red gingham tablecloth.

She counts out a nine-square grid and gets all the way to eighty-one before she replies.

‘Right. Well, it’s over.

Patrick and me. It’s finished.

’

Fiona wonders how many times she has seen clients to whom this has happened.

How many separation agreements and divorces and endings.

Too many. But it’s what she does.

Family law for people who don’t want to be families any more.

And she’s good at it.

There’s some satisfaction in that.

She sits down opposite Tess.

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘He’s in Chicago.

He went to New York two weeks ago and then on to Chicago and he’s due back on Friday, a week from now.

’

‘Is he seeing someone else?’

Tess tugs at the ring-pull and a hiss of gas escapes from the can.

‘He’s been lying to me.

’

‘Why don’t you start from the beginning, if you’re able to?

’

Tess has replayed the sequence of events in her head dozens of times.

‘He left for the States two weeks ago, went early in the morning in a taxi. And then he rang me from the airport, I was half asleep and a bit groggy, you know? He said he had lost his phone, and must have dropped it in the house or the street outside and would I go and look for it. I was still in my PJs so I looked downstairs and couldn’t see it anywhere, and he was really odd about it.

Just told me to leave it.

’

‘It doesn’t sound that odd .

.?.’

Tess studies the squares again.

‘And after that a man turned up on the doorstep and said he had a phone and he thought it might be mine. I couldn’t work out how he knew to come to the house and then I saw the black cab in the street and twigged that he was the taxi driver from the airport run.

He said that a small child had found the phone down the side of the seat and had made a bit of a mess of the cover and he was really sorry.

I said thank you and took it into the house.

And after a bit it pinged, and there was a message.

It said, “I will tell her if you don’t” and it was signed with a kiss.

’

‘That doesn’t sound good.

No idea who it was from?

’

‘Just a number. An international one. And then Patrick rang back a bit later and asked if the phone had turned up. He was upset because it was a new one and the software was telling him it was either in the house or in the garden. I made a pretty theatrical show of opening and closing squeaky doors in the house before going outside. It was pissing down with rain and my slippers got soaked in a huge puddle.’

Fiona risks a smile.

‘I told him I couldn’t see it.

And there was a bit more chat and he rang off.

And then there was another message.

’ Tess can feel tears forming as she relives the moment.

‘It only flashed for a minute and then the battery went dead. I couldn’t be sure what it said so I plugged the phone in and waited for a bit.

Of course, the fates then decided there was a software update, so I had to wait until that was downloaded.

And that meant I couldn’t get into the phone because you have to put the PIN in to restart it, and for some bloody reason, well I now know the reason of course, he had changed his PIN.

’ She wipes her eyes with her sleeve and takes a slug of fizzy grapefruit from the can.

Condensation beads dribble down the side of the metal, making it slippery.

‘I read online somewhere that you only get a certain number of goes and then it turns into a brick. Not sure if it’s true.

I got it on the third try.

It was his birthday, backwards.

Burned into my brain for ever, that number.

’ Tess finishes the can.

‘I think I need some wine now, please.’

Fiona has had years of practice waiting for clients to feel able to speak and understands the need for an occasional nudge.

‘And then what happened?’ She wins the battle with the cork, and pours Tempranillo into the glasses, just to the widest part of the bowl as she was shown on the wine-tasting course last year, leaving plenty of room for swirling and releasing the aromatics.

She stops. And then she pours again, because the occasion seems to demand a full glass and to hell with sommelier rules.

Tess studies the red liquid.

‘Well, the message I saw, or didn’t see, was there.

’ She puts her head back and looks at the ceiling, not trusting herself to look at Fiona.

‘It said, “Have you told her yet?” with a kiss at the end. And then there was another one which arrived about an hour later and I knew Patrick would still be in the air so he wouldn’t have seen it.

That one said, “I MEAN IT” in capital letters, and I thought whoever it was really didn’t need to shout, I got the idea.

’

‘Was that everything?’

‘Isn’t it enough?

’ Tess takes a large mouthful of wine and swallows.

‘After that I took Baxter for yet another walk along the canal and fed the ducks. And then Patrick rang me from Chicago and sounded completely bloody normal, and we talked about the flight and the food on the plane and the delay at immigration and how he’d got a taxi to the hotel with the most talkative cab driver ever.

He said he was quite tired and would speak to me the next day, and that was when I told him I had his phone and that there were some messages.

And he went very quiet.

I was standing in the kitchen looking at the garden and it was as though the world slowed down and stretched while I waited for him to speak.

In the end he said that his American colleague Xander had been trying to get in touch with him, but he thought his phone was lost so he hadn’t mentioned it.

’

Fiona seizes this new fact.

‘Wait, you mean it wasn’t a kiss, it was an initial?

’

‘Yeah. And eventually, after I insisted on knowing what was going on, he said he was busy but that he would be sure to ring me later.’

‘Oh, fabulous .’

‘Tell me about it.’ Tess has almost finished the glass of wine.

‘I knew he was giving himself enough time to get his story straight. If he had met someone else, it would almost be easier. At least I would have someone to be mad at.’ She takes another drink and holds out the empty glass for a refill.

‘The problem is that he’s changed his mind about something very important.

’

Fiona pours, and waits.

‘We always said that we didn’t want children.

Neither of us did. I was really happy being a sort of auntie when necessary, and it’s not that I don’t like children, but I’ve never wanted any of my own.

And we agreed. We talked about it a lot when we first met; I never hid how I felt, and he said he felt the same.

’ Tess runs her finger along the red gingham grid, tracing the line of boxes across and back again.

‘And?’

‘And now he doesn’t feel that way.

He’s spent a lot of time with Xander and his family, and all his American colleagues have children, and he’s decided the clock is ticking and he wants what they have.

’ Tess takes a slug of wine from the refilled glass.

‘It probably wasn’t the best way to have that sort of conversation, you know, when we were on opposite sides of the Atlantic?

But once he started speaking about it, he didn’t stop.

He said that I was being inflexible, and that we should talk, because I might change my mind.

And I said that what he really meant was that he wanted me to make a decision because he was being a coward.

’

‘People say things they don’t mean when they’re upset,’ observes Fiona.

‘I’m not going to change my mind.

Other people’s kids are great, but I don’t want any of my own.

Never have. It turns out that he’s been thinking about this for more than a year, maybe two.

And our conversations about what he’d been doing with his friends’ kids in the States, which, looking back, I now realise were all started by him , were attempts to bring me around to his way of thinking.

He is such a liar.’

Fiona swirled the wine around in her glass.

‘Maybe he didn’t want to bring the relationship to an end without trying to persuade you?

’

‘That’s not the bloody point!

All of this is about what he wants.

He is the one who has changed his mind and he didn’t have the guts to be honest about it.

And in the end he wanted me to be the one to call it a day, so he didn’t have to.

I am so angry, Fiona.

I moved to Scotland last year and gave up my nice apartment in Lisbon, and my whole life there, for him .

This is, or rather was, pretty fundamental stuff about our future together and he should have damn well told me.

’

‘And he definitely hasn’t met someone else?

’

‘He absolutely denied it. I asked him a lot of times in all sorts of ways and he stuck to the story. But to be honest I really have no idea. For all I know he’s been trawling make-me-a-daddy-dot-com for suitable baby carriers.

’

The doorbell rings and Fiona gets to her feet.

‘That’ll be the pizza.

I was back late so I just ordered from Domino’s.

’

‘Good,’ replies Tess.

‘I need as much carbohydrate as I can get. No more diets and no more stupid step counting either. I am so done with trying to be someone I am not just to make him happy.’

Fiona comes back and slides the pizza boxes onto the table.

‘Shall we bother with plates?’

Tess shrugs.

‘Just tear the lids off and we can use those.’

‘I ordered one meat and one veggie. Might as well try and be a little bit healthy. If there’s any left the kids can have it when they get back tomorrow night.

’ She opens the boxes.

‘A moment on the lips and all that, but oh, so worth it.’ The smell of pizza fills the room.

‘Is there anything else?’

‘He said that if I wasn’t going to change my mind then he wouldn’t ask me to leave the house immediately, and he would stay in a hotel until I had found somewhere else.

That was really big of him, don’t you think?

And he said sorry a lot.

’ Tess stops for a moment as though trying to make sense of it all.

‘In between all the bad things, there was an apology. I asked him why he hadn’t said anything before and he said he didn’t want to hurt me.

I told him it was a bit fucking late for that now.

’

Baxter sits at their feet, ever hopeful.

Fiona picks up a small piece of chicken.

‘Can Baxter have this?’

Tess nods.

‘Baxter eats everything and anything apart from chocolate and dried fruit, both of which could kill him. And onions. And grapes.’ She looks at the two pizzas.

‘You got extra-large ones.’ She takes a slice and watches as a piece of green pepper slides off onto the tablecloth.

‘I’m making a mess. Story of my life.

’

‘Doesn’t matter.

It’s what washing machines are for.

’ Fiona takes a sip of wine.

‘Then what?’

‘I hung up on him and blocked his number, and then the house phone started to ring so I unplugged it. And I needed time to think so I emailed all my clients and told them I was dealing with a family problem and apologised. You’ll have had that email too.

My brain is mush just thinking about it all.

’

‘And have you come to any conclusions?’

‘I have.’ Tess finishes the slice of pizza.

‘I don’t have the headspace for it all right now.

You’re the exception.

You’ve made me so welcome, and I feel as though we are friends.

I’m sorry if that sounds weird.

’

‘Not weird at all.’

‘I’m glad.

’ Tess rearranges the pieces of mushroom on the top of a second triangle of pizza so there will be one in every mouthful.

‘You don’t try to add extra jobs on every week and expect them for free, unlike some people.

Some folk really take advantage, you know?

’

Fiona nods. ‘I have clients like that too.’

‘I’ve closed the business down for now.

Perhaps for good. And because I didn’t want to leave anyone in the lurch, I’ve found other people to do the ordering and the organising and all the other stuff and I’ve put them all in touch with each other.

’

‘Are you still living in the house?’

‘I’ve been in a B&B in Musselburgh since last week.

I’m going to make sure that wherever I end up, he won’t be able to find me.

There are other ways of making a statement.

’

‘There are?’

‘After we had the “Big Conversation”,’ Tess brackets the words with speech marks in the air, ‘I got the electric drill out of the garage, and I drilled a hole in his stupid phone and skewered it to that huge designer coffee table he is so proud of.’

Fiona’s eyes widen.

‘Well, that’s .?.?. different.

’

‘Once I got the idea into my head it wouldn’t go away, so I just did it.

’

‘Anything else?’

‘Nothing you need to know about.’

‘Oh?’

‘Well, I was going to superglue the front door lock, but in the end I decided I’d done enough damage.

’ Tess pushes on. ‘But I need somewhere to live and the landlord will have to be OK with a dog. And I’ve only got two days.

I thought the B&B would be alright for a bit longer but they have other guests arriving on Tuesday.

’

Fiona tops up Tess’s glass for a third time.

‘Let’s finish eating, and then I have some questions. ’