‘Enough is enough,’ I screamed at him that day. ‘I can’t take it.’ I cried like a baby that night. Uncontrollable tears I couldn’t stop flowing. It had shaken him, seeing me like that, totally unnerved him. Those lime-green eyes had welled up. He knew he’d pushed me to my limit.
He’d never seen me in that much of a state before.
By the time we board the plane, I’m exhausted. ‘Rest, darling. You don’t look too good,’ Justin says. I close my eyes.
When I open them, I’m disorientated.
The captain’s smooth voice fills the plane. ‘Welcome on board your flight to London Stansted. Apologies for the delay. We’ll be commencing our journey in the next few minutes.’ The words merge with Justin’s velvety tone.
Justin is talking to the passenger next to him. I must’ve dropped off to sleep. It’s happening more often. Ever since I started my new treatment, uncontrollable tiredness hits me like a brick at random times of the day. A twenty-minute nap usually does the trick. I turn to my husband sitting beside me. I blink. And blink again.
I must be dreaming.
But I’m not.
Sitting on the other side of him is the girl from the tram. She is fingering the tiny locket around her slender neck.
I can’t take any more.
4
BETH
I nudge Justin. His head turns slowly to me as if he’s debating how he’s going to explain this. It can’t be a coincidence. His eyes meet mine, wide. I glare at him and then at her before returning my gaze to him.
‘We meet again.’ The girl waves and grins. ‘What are the chances of this?’
Three months ago, I would’ve answered ‘High’ to her question. Somehow, my husband would’ve woven a way for her to be sitting next to him. Concocting a way to invite her back to our house. Three months ago, I’d have sworn she’d been planted there. But not this time. Apart from when we drifted apart in Duty Free – him to browse the aftershaves, me to search the cosmetics stalls for a new moisturiser for my sagging skin – he didn’t leave my side the whole time at the airport. Then I remember the ten minutes I spent in the toilet, dealing with the familiar waves of nausea that plague me these days. But I’d have seen him when I came out.
Wouldn’t I?
Don’t be silly, Beth. He couldn’t have arranged this.
Could he?
‘Unbelievable.’ Justin forces his body back against the seat and pats my knee. ‘This is Immy.’
Immy. The same name as that girl from the office. The one I had to get rid of. He’s winding me up. He must be. He turns to the girl. ‘And this is my wife, Beth.’
I force a smile. A habit I’m well accustomed to. I glance out of the window as the plane taxies along the runway. He must’ve bumped into her while I was in the toilet. Or he sought her out.
‘Oh!’ Immy reaches for her locket. It’s a small, golden heart. ‘My mother’s name was Beth.’ Another gushing smile. That all-too-positive air. It’s nauseating.
‘Really?’ Justin rubs his beard, like he always does when he’s deep in thought. I love his beard. He keeps it well-groomed – like every part of himself – trimmed to the jawline with neat, well-defined edges. He adjusts his rectangular full-framed glasses.
‘Well, her actual name was Mandy – Mandy Bethany, but she always called herself Beth. She much preferred it.’
My stomach tightens at the mention of that name. Mandy. I start sweating. Mandy. Mandy. Mandy. I can’t bear it. The memories are just too much. Justin glances at me. He knows how much I hate it. Detest it. This is unbearable. He’s hatching a plan. I know he is.
‘Immy’s just been telling me about her mother, who had dementia. Double dementia. The same as Mum,’ Justin says.
‘What’s double dementia?’ I ask.
‘Vascular and Alzheimer’s.’ Her tone turns sombre. ‘A double blow.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Justin says.
Here he goes.
