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She didn’t know what had changed, for Stuart. Something just seemed to have switched off for him, physically. He was affectionate in other ways, and they still felt close, but there was just this one lack. He wouldn’t discuss it, and didn’t even seem very concerned. It had nearly broken the two of them apart, until eventually she had decided that she wouldn’t let it, and taken the necessary steps.
*
She set out the fish platter, letting it come back up to room temperature. She’d picked up a couple of small trout from the river keeper, who seemed to feel he owed them because the river ran past their property. She liked to fillet them thinly and leave them sitting in lemon juice and wine vinegar for a while, so the flesh had already begun to whiten before she gave them just a hint of heat and set them melting on the plate. Some roughly ground salt. A few cracked flakes of chilli.
The house was quiet, without the girls around. She had a feeling of things being muffled.
She poured another glass of wine, and opened the front door again. The air was sharp, but it came as a relief after the heat of the kitchen. The clouds had thinned and the stars were coming out. She could see the long ridge of Black Bull Hill away to the left of the village lights. And in the distance, from somewhere near the visitor centre, she saw headlights. This would be Stuart, now. He would be okay. She’d known he would be, really. Even with all the talk about Woods, she’d known that Stuart was in no actual danger, no actual physical danger. The man could be unpleasant and stubborn, by all accounts, but this was hardly Sicily. They weren’t talking about broken fingers or kneecaps. She wa
tched the headlights getting closer, and heard the click of the security gates unlocking at the bottom of the drive. She stepped back inside, so that he wouldn’t see her watching and think she’d been worried.
He had this way of holding her, whenever he came home, just tightly enough and for long enough that she would know things were fine with them both. He did this, and kissed the top of her head. He went straight through to the kitchen and started washing his hands. She followed him.
Are you hungry? she asked. I’ve made a spot of dinner. The girls are staying at the Smiths’. I thought we could make an evening of it.
Lovely, he said. Lovely. He was washing his hands very thoroughly, the water steaming hot. She took the last few things out of the oven and carried them through to the dining room. She fiddled with the arrangement of the dishes and the cutlery, straightening the cloth and napkins and lighting the candles. She poured the wine, and carried the glasses back into the kitchen. Stuart was still washing his hands, but as she came into the room he turned the tap off suddenly and reached for a towel. He’d splashed water across his face as well, and for a moment he buried his face in the towel and kept it hidden.
Wine? she said, waiting.
He lowered the towel, and hung it carefully on its rail. He took the glass from her, and smiled, and followed her through to the dining room. It must have been a long meeting, she guessed. He looked tired. He glanced at all the food spread out across the table. It looked like enough for half a dozen people.
You’ve certainly been busy, he said. There’s not an occasion I’ve forgotten about, is there? We’re not expecting anyone else?
No, she said. No one else. Just us.
Great, he said. Great. Well, thanks for this. Looks lovely. Shall we tuck in?
Stuart, she said. Is it sorted?
He was holding his hands together on the table in front of him. He couldn’t keep them still. He couldn’t look her in the eye.
We’ll pay what he’s asking, he said.
15: Joe
Once they’d agreed to get a divorce, they went back to bed. Which was rather unexpected.
They’d lingered over breakfast, and were still wearing their pyjamas, and the rain against the windows was making them feel cold. And they were supposed to be on holiday, after all.
It was awkward at first. They weren’t sure how close they should let themselves be. But then Charlotte reached out and took Joe’s hand, and they both relaxed. It had taken them a long time to reach this decision, and by now there was no anger left in them. Only a sense of letting something go, together.
Go on then, he said. You can tell me now. What’s the one thing that’s always annoyed you about me, that you’ve never said?
She didn’t have to think for very long.
That way you squint when you don’t understand something, she told him. It makes you look furious. It’s very off-putting. You’re doing it now.
He tried to relax his face, but apparently that only made it worse.
I think it’s just the light, he told her. My eyes are very sensitive to the light.
It makes you look as though you think everyone else is stupid, she told him. You might want to work on that.
I’ll make a note, he said.
You did it the very first time we met, she said. I thought you didn’t like me.
The sun was in my eyes, he told her. You were sitting right in front of the sun, I could hardly see you.
