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“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about today.” I open the dispenser drawer and pour in the fabric conditioner, the smell of jasmine wafting under my nose, “I had a chat with him on Messenger this morning. I’ve arranged to meet up with him, although now I’m…”
The sound of a tin hitting the kitchen floor startles me. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
I close the drawer and start fiddling with the controls. “Good job that wasn’t a bottle of olive oil. Or worse still, wine!” I laugh, trying to defuse the tension.
“I seriously can’t believe you’re giving him the time of day.” She throws her hands up in the air. “A man who cheated on you, jilted you. Fathered another woman’s child, for fuck’s sake. You said you never wanted to see him again.” I know Nick isn’t flavour of the month at the moment but I wasn’t expecting her to be this angry. It must be her hormones. She picks the can of baked beans off the floor and then starts loading the fridge fast and furious, stuffing cucumbers, tomatoes, carrots and mushrooms into the salad box.
“We only exchanged a few words,” I say, a bit miffed by her headmistress tone. “He says he just wants a quick word to explain, just so that we can put it all behind us and move on. I mean, Gerry and Tina are still his friends, aren’t they? We might bump into each other now and again. Surely, it’d be better if we clear the air, if we’re on speaking terms, at least.” Her silence and the murderous look on her face tells me that she disagrees. “Look, he keeps hounding me, Louise. Maybe if I just speak to him once, let him explain. Let him get it out of his system. Perhaps then he’ll leave me alone.”
“You’re making a big mistake if you see him, Audrey.” She slams the fridge door, grabs a tea towel and starts folding it quickly, angrily. “I’d let sleeping dogs lie if I were you.”
“Well, he knows I’m seeing someone new and he’s busy with what’s-her-face.”
“With who?” She stops folding and looks at me, lips slightly parted. “What’s her name? Do we know her?”
“No, of course not,” I yell, returning my attention to the washing machine. “I don’t care who she is. I just want to get on with the rest of my life.” Even if I knew who she was I wouldn’t tell Louise. She’d hunt her down and commit a crime.
“That’s a shame. We could’ve Googled her. Find out what the hell she’s playing at.” See what I mean? She puts the folded tea towel down on the worktop and walks over to me, her blonde brows knitted, forehead lined with concern. Then her face softens. “Here,” she says kindly. “You need to turn the dial to thirty degrees, then press this button.” The machine whirs into action. She places a hand on my arm gently.
“Look, Audrey…” We’re face to face. I can see a few crows’ feet around her eyes. My poor friend is so tired, she doesn’t need this. “I’m just looking out for you, that’s all.” She rubs my arm. “I don’t want him to hurt you again. It’s taken us ages to get you back on your feet.” I tell her that Gerry’s still friends with him and she doesn’t seem to mind that. “That’s different. You know what men are like. Look, you’ve found a lovely, decent bloke, what more do you want?” I thought she just told me to take it slowly with Daniel? Does she really hate Nick that much?
I run a hand over my face. I can’t blame her for hating him. She’s right, I know she is. What was I thinking? Nick’s a shit. Seeing him again would only open old wounds. And whatever explanation he gives me, still won’t change the fact that he got another woman up the duff behind my back.
“Yes, you’re right,” I exhale loudly. “I’ll text him and cancel.”
“That’s my girl. I’ll ask Gerry to have a word too, tell him to leave you alone.” I’m so lucky to have such caring, supportive friends. I really don’t know what I’d do without them in my life.
“Thanks, Louise. There’s so much shit going on in my head at the moment. I can’t think straight.”
“No problem. That’s what friends are for. Right,” she says briskly. “I’m bursting for the loo. I made us a veg soup this morning, your favourite. It’s in the fridge, stick it on the hob and I’ll be right back. You know where everything is.”
I grab a large saucepan from the rack at the sink by the window. Louise’s garden is looking great, lovely green shrubs, neat lawn. It was wild and unkempt the last time I saw it.
“Gerry’s done a great job with the garden,” I yell.
“Yeah,” she shouts back from the downstairs toilet, “he took two weeks off work and did the lot.”
“Did he lay the patio slabs himself?” I turn on one of the rings at the hob. The orange liquid starts to bubble, spitting at the sides of the pan. It smells divine with lots of fresh, thick cut carrots, potatoes, leeks, and peas. “Loulou? Did you hear?” I stir the soup, my stomach grumbles. “Lou?” I lower the heat to simmer and walk towards the toilet. “Louise?” I tap lightly on the door. It’s deadly quiet. “You okay in there?” I rattle the door knob, it’s locked. My heart starts to thump a little faster. I hope she hasn’t passed out. She did look a bit pasty. “Louise? Open the door.” I cry, banging hard with my fist.
And then there’s a click. The door opens. She’s standing before me, white as a sheet, stained toilet paper scrunched in her hand. I slowly glance down at the toilet bowl, streaked with blood. Oh no, oh God, please no.
21
“I don’t know what to say, Gerry.” I’m drained of energy. He’s sitting on the leather sofa, elbows resting on his knees, hands covering his face. The shutters are closed, even though it’s still daylight outside. I dare not open them, dare not let in normality. “The doctor said that it’s very common, one in five, apparently. It’s no one’s fault.” I place a mug of coffee in front of him but he doesn’t even look up.
“I know. I read the leaflet,” he says after a few moments between a gap through his fingers, “She was being so careful with everything.”
“I know she was.” The sudden sound of loud foreign voices catches our attention and we both glance towards the cream coloured shutters.
“Probably next door.” He rubs his chin. “Landlord said new tenants were moving in. Two couples. And a dog. I think.” I acknowledge this piece of useless information with a sharp, small nod. We listen to the foreign voices for a while in silence and then, “I think she’s blaming me for the miscarriage.”
I lay a hand on his shoulder. “No, no, that is NOT true.” Actually, it is. She was complaining to me earlier in A&E that he wasn’t there enough for her, he was always working late, on purpose, and kept nagging her about her spending. She even suggested that he jinxed the pregnancy because he wasn’t as excited about it as she was. I pat his back gently. “You’ll get through this, Gerry, don’t worry.” And then to my dismay, his shoulders start shaking. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him cry. I’m not sure what to do; shouldn’t he be upstairs sharing this grief with Louise? I put my arm around his trembling frame and lean my head against his. I try to keep him still but his body is too big in my embrace. “Shhhh, it’s going to be all right.” He reaches up and grasps my hand, his other hand shielding his face like a shy schoolboy. “Come on now, you’ve got to be strong for Louise, she needs you.”
He stops crying and wipes his wet, red face with the cuff of his pale blue shirt. “She doesn’t need me,” he snivels, rubbing his palms together, “she’s got Jess.” He flicks his head back towards the stairs. “You saw how she was with me in the car earlier.” It’s true. Louise almost bit his head off when he tried to comfort her in the back seat of my VW on the journey home. I even caught her shrugging him off furiously in my rear view mirror a couple of times when he tried to put his arm around her. But I know that was because he wasn’t there to support her at the hospital. Five hours we were in the mayhem of A&E. Five. And where was Gerry? Nowhere to be found. Half a dozen voicemails, several texts and about twenty missed calls later he appeared in the Casualty Department looking weary and distraught and smelling like a brewery. But it was too late.
“Gerry, she’s just lost your baby. She’s upset. She didn’t mean any of those things she said in the car. She loves you.” I pause. “Look, go up and talk to her,” I say gently, “You two need to be together now.” I stand up and pull him by the hand. “Come on.” He shuffles to his feet and follows me sadly up the stairs. And once they’re in each other’s arms, I close the door behind me and slip away quietly.
* * *
