Page 88 of Close to You

She tails off and it takes me a few seconds to realise she was going to say ‘disappeared’.

‘I don’t know why he left,’ I say.

‘Did you tell the police?’

I shake my head: ‘Only you and him.’

She has another sip of her drink and we watch as a group in Santa hats enter the shop. It’s a mix of men and women, probably on a lunchbreak from work. The woman at the front knows Andy by name and sets about ordering as the rest sit near the Christmas tree. I don’t know any of them, though one of the women catches my eye and seemingly recognises me. I wonder how long it’ll be before people forget who I am.

‘It’s the not knowing, isn’t it?’ Jane says. Her voice is a murmur now, hard to hear over the music and voices. ‘If David said he was leaving, at least you’d know. If he was, um…’ she presses in slightly closer and this time actually whispers ‘dead’ with such reverence that it’s as if saying the word might make it true. ‘I’m not saying he is,’ she adds. ‘But it would be something final, wouldn’t it?’

‘I know what you mean…’

‘Are you sure there wasn’t a trigger for it all?’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know. An argument? Was he upset about the pregnancy? Or something else?’

I shake my head.

‘How’s your mum?’ Jane asks.

‘She blames me and says I must have done something to make him leave.’

I suppose there’s a degree of irony to the fact that, of everyone, my mother is the person who is right.

Jane shuffles back, unsure what to say. She has almost finished her drink, so I slide mine across the table towards her. ‘Not in the mood,’ I say.

We sit quietly for a moment as the volume increases from the group next to the door. I sense a couple of them sneaking sideways glances towards me, before my phone beeps to distract me. It’s an email and, as I skim through it, Jane glances in the other direction in the way people do when they’re too polite to ask what’s going on.

One thing I never could have expected is that David’s apparent disappearance has brought about what can only be called sympathy business. There is a fitness circuit of conferences and health expos that is an industry in itself. People become almost too famous for things like personal training and end up giving talks about the subject, instead of actually doing it. I’ve never understood how someone could get to that lucrative point – but this email is asking if I’d be interested in hosting a session at an upcoming expo for up to 500 people. It’s the third similar offer I’ve had this week. I’m also swamped with potential clients wanting personal training sessions.

What an irony that, even now, David is finding a way to support my career.

‘Word’s gone around,’ I say to Jane as I put my phone away.

‘What do you mean?’ she asks.

‘People keep offering me work. I’ve never been so in demand.’

‘Wow… at least something good is coming of this, I suppose. Not that it’s a good thing, I mean…’

We’re interrupted by Andy returning to the table to collect Jane’s empty glass.

‘Would you like anything else?’ he asks, talking to me.

‘I think I’m all right,’ I reply.

‘Just say if I can help.’

He lingers at the table for a couple of seconds too long and then heads back to the counter. I wonder if Jane is going to comment on it because she must have noticed it as well.

‘What about you?’ I ask, wanting to change the subject.

‘What about me?’ Jane replies.

‘All we do is talk about me…’