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Chapter 22
He caught up with me when I was nearly on the third-floor landing. I’d had to slow my pace because I was out of breath; he’d been sprinting up behind me, taking two steps at a time.
‘Hannah! Wait,’ he was saying.
I ignored him and carried on climbing but then he was there, next to me, trying to take my arm. I wriggled out of his grasp.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his breath ragged. ‘I’m so, so sorry about all of this.’
‘You still haven’t told me what you’ve got to be sorry about,’ I said.
‘Stop a second,’ he said.
I turned to face him, catching my breath, holding my arms out in front of me to create a sort of barrier between us. He didn’t look like Si any more. Everything about him was different: his posture, the way there were lines of tension etched across his brow, the sweat-rings under his arms, the flat, watery eyes. Or perhaps it was more that this was the first time I’d seen him for what he really was, imperfections and all. I’d been happy to take him at face value, was so flattered that somebody like him would want somebody like me that I hadn’t thought to scratch beneath the surface.
‘I love you, Han. I’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake and I’m truly sorry. I am. But I’ll make it up to you, I promise I will.’
Over his shoulder I could see faces peering up at us from the foyer – a cross-looking Alison had been joined by Pauline, whose mouth had dropped open like a sinkhole.
‘Please, Han. Hear me out.’
I turned my head to the side, not wanting his hot, acidic breath on my face. And yet, at the same time I had a compulsion to know all the gory details, every one of them. Perhaps if I did, I could have some sort of closure. I’d had some experience of this, after all: I’d found it was best to know where you stood with someone, even if it hurt, so that there was no ambiguity, no back and forth. Like with Dad; now that I’d started to accept him for what he was and was not capable of, I was able to bear the fact that he wasn’t in my life any more and was never likely to be again.
‘Let’s go to our room,’ said Si. His voice had a tremor flecked through it. ‘We can talk there.’
Ourroom. Insinuating that we were still a partnership, that we still loved each other, like I’d thought we always would. I started up the stairs again, each step an effort, my head loaded with the things I wanted to say. There were questions buzzing around in there, lots of them, but not fully formed ones. I fumbled in my clutch bag for the key card and as I swiped it in the door, I was aware of Si behind me, felt him breathing heavily on the back of my neck, inhaled the familiar scent of him, the sharp, citrus shower gel he used. Was this really the end of our relationship? Could it be that simple, this fast?
I flung myself into the room and he followed me inside, closing the door quietly behind him. I went over to the window, resting my forehead against the glass. There was a view of a canal, just like the one I’d imagined when I’d pictured the idyllic morning we were supposed to have together the following day. So much for rose petals and proposals and waffles.
‘I’ve been fired from work,’ Si said, coming to stand next to me, his hip inches from mine.
I turned to him, incredulous. ‘When?’
‘Six weeks ago now.’
‘What for?’
He went to sit on the edge of the bed, throwing his head into his hands. I leaned against the window, too exhausted to stand.
‘I hit Dave,’ he said.
My stomach turned. ‘What?’
‘He’s a bully, Hannah, he never let up. Every opportunity he had to belittle my work, he jumped on it. It killed me, after everything I’d put into that fucking company.’
‘When was this?’ I said.
‘There was that party, wasn’t there, back in May? At that restaurant in town?’
‘May? Si, that’s ages ago.’
‘I’d had a terrible day at work. A really fucking stressful day. When I got to the party, I started drinking heavily. And I couldn’t stop, even though a few people told me they thought I’d had enough.’
I shook my head. ‘I can’t believe this.’
‘I lost it, Han. Something just snapped. I started laying into him, telling him exactly what I thought of him, what an arsehole he was, how nobody respected him. I had to be dragged off of him, apparently, not that I can remember much about it.’
I put my hands over my mouth in the prayer position. ‘God, Si.’
