‘Brooklyn.’
‘You walked from Brooklyn? Across the bridge?’
‘Is there another way?’
‘It didn’t freak you out?’
‘Yeah. It did. It was a really bad idea.’
She bent her head to mine, pressing a kiss by my ear. ‘You don’t say.’
‘I had a head full of steam and I just started walking. He knew about my fear of heights. From when I was a kid. The git used to put me up on the monkey bars even though I was scared. Who does that to a child? A useless father, that’s who,’ I answered my own question. ‘And I thought, “fuck you”. You know that about me, so I’m going to change it. But I couldn’t change it…I got halfway and those fences, even with all the cabling up the sides, they weren’t enough to make me feel safe. The cars were rushing by either side, and the water was just black beyond that and the pedestrian bit rises higher and higher doesn’t it? I was terrified so I just put my head down and followed that white line in the centre of the boards. Why are they still old wooden boards; surely they could update that to something that feels safer now?’
‘Stephen. There are some phobias you can probably get over with sheer bloody-mindedness, but I think heights requires professional help.’ She pushed at my shoulders, making me sit up and look in her face. ‘I’m worried about you. You’re rambling. I think you’re in shock from it all, so yes, you need tea and food and sleep.’
‘I didn’t say sleep, I said bed.’
‘I’msaying sleep. All this is taking its toll. Rest here, I’m going to put my kettle on, make you tea and then head out to get you some food.’
‘You don’t have anything in?’
‘No. I brought in a salad with me earlier. Your good habits are rubbing off on me. I’ll get you some soup.’
She stood up and I grabbed her hand. ‘Don’t go out. It’s late, I don’t want you walking around the city at this time.’
‘You just walked here from Brooklyn, and for the record, I’ve lived here all my life; I’ll survive popping to the restaurant downstairs.’
‘Okay.’ I collapsed back against the sofa. She brought me a cup of tea and then grabbed her purse and headed downstairs. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t feel up to the fight.
I frowned up at her ceiling. We did do a fair bit of fighting. The whole of our courtship to this point could have been described as fiery – just like my mum and Trevor if I was to believe what he said. Were we doomed to burn out like them? I didn’t want that to be the case.
What did I mean, I didn’t want that to be the case? Of course it was going to end. It was inevitable – just like Trevor’s inability to be a responsible, dependable parent. I was acting out some other life with her that I hadn’t admitted I wanted, even to myself, but I couldn’t let myself have it. I knew I couldn’t give Noelle what she wanted in a partner even if every day that passed, I felt myselfwantingto…and wanting to have it for myself too. But how could I risk damaging her career by walking out on her if we had a child together at some point down the line? How could I risk hurting someone that profoundly? How could I live with having someone hate me, haveherhate me, the way I hated him?
I rubbed my eyes. I needed my brain to stop, just for five minutes. You’d have thought walking for over an hour across the city would have given me plenty of time to sort out the mess in my head, but now I was exhausted on top of screwed up.
Maybe Noelle was right. I did need sleep.
Her notebooks and papers were strewn all over the sofa as usual. If she had dozed off here, she’d done it on top of all her work, curled up like a cat.
I lifted my heavy arms and started gathering her things together. The woman did love a list and her different colour pens. How different we were; her head was so organised while her habitat was always cluttered, and I was the opposite. Everything looked neat and efficient on the surface, while my thoughts were a raging whirlpool.
My father’s name on one of the worksheets caught my eye and I read it, grimly fascinated by the observations she’d put together from the sketchy details we’d gathered together. There was another underneath it and as I read it too, all my thoughts went still.
This one was all about me.
All her first impressions, the way she figured I just wanted a warm body in my bed, that I didn’t care whose it was, the way I constantly moved on, never committing and…Ultimately, no matter what promises he makes, he can’t escape the fact that he only cares about himself and all he’ll ever be able to offer someone is a pretence.
The pho I’d bought downstairs was hot enough it was burning my hands through the polystyrene cup, but I knew if anything was going to sort Stephen out, it would be this. It was wellness in a takeaway container.
I so wanted to help him. I knew I shouldn’t be thinking this way, but the fact he’d come straight to me to talk…well, itcouldhave been because I was the only person he truly knew in the city, but it could also be because he was letting me in. The search for his father was over and this visit wasn’t about sex, so perhaps I could be forgiven for thinking we were edging another step closer to something…more?
He was sitting on my sofa, one elbow resting on the arm, his hand covering his mouth. The other was holding on to a sheaf of papers on his knee. He was still. So still, just staring at an indiscriminate area on my skirting board. At least he’d stopped shivering like he had a fever but now he looked like he’d been switched off or gone numb or something again. My heart throbbed for him and everything he was going through.
I went over and ran my hand down the back of his head, letting my fingers rest along his collar, the silky brush of his hair against my palm, and the heat of his skin just a thin sliver between it and the material. ‘Hey. You hanging in there?’
He jerked his head away and stood up sharply. I narrowly avoided tipping his soup all down my front in shock. ‘I have to leave.’
‘But you haven’t eaten. Why do you want to leave all of a sudden?’
