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She pointedly hadn’t packed a bag. But she had taken the precaution of boiling one last kettle, which meant we got to drink tea in the deepening dark, and listen to the rain as it kept on falling.
Afterwards, I moved some of her things upstairs, and stacked up everything else as best I could.
“Valuables, my arse,” she grumbled. “I’m eighty-two. I don’t have any valuables. I’ve just got a lifetime’s worth of crap.”
I smiled and thought of my house, too full and too empty of memories and things, half wishing the water would come and ruin it all, wash it away, and make me start again. Half wishing, but mainly terrified.
Whatever we did, it would make no difference to the rain and the rising waters, so we lit all the tea lights we could find, huddled in blankets, and played cribbage. Mrs. P kicked my arse, because she always did.32
“So, that wossisname,” she murmured. “He seems nice.”
I squinted fretfully at my hand, which was a big collection of nothing. “Adam.”
“Mm-hmm.” Then, after a moment: “Edwin and Adam sitting in a tree…”
Predictably, I lost track of my points, and she mugged them. “W-we were just talking.”
“You were making googly-eyes at him.”
I probably had been. Prickly heat burst out all over my skin, and I wasn’t sure if I was angry or embarrassed, or something else entirely. “This isn’t poker, you know. You’re not supposed to be trying to psych me out.”
She said nothing for a while. The shuffling of cards sounded like wings in the silence.
“Why were you spying on me?” I asked.
“There was nothing on the telly.”
I gave her a look.
“Oh come on, Edwin, I wasn’t spying. I wouldn’t do that. I just worry about you sometimes.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me.”
“No, you need a kick up the arse.” The cards slipped from between my fingers, and she pounced on them without hesitation or shame. “Ooh, you’ve got his nobs.”
“It’s d-d-dishonourable to peek at someone else’s cards.”
“Cribbage is cutthroat.” Mrs. P met my eyes through the muddle of light and shadow. “I’m not trying to upset you. I just think it’s about time you moved on.”
“Ihavemoved on.”
“Have you? Because it looks a lot like standing around to me.”
Was that true? Was that all I’d done since Marius left me? “W-well, maybe it’s more complicated than that. Ten years w-with the same man. It’s not s-s-something you just get over.”
“I know,” she said, with a gentleness that shook me more deeply than anything else she could have done. “You told me. Love at first sight. Together forever.” She moved her little peg away from mine, consolidating an impressive lead into a mortifying one. “But nothing’s forever, Edwin.”
I cringed a bit, remembering the things I’d said, between the snot and the tears, here in this very room. I’d been so angry at Marius then, for turning the life we’d built into a pile of lies and broken promises. “What about diamonds?”
She smiled at me. “Not very cuddly. And I’m not saying you shouldmarrywossisname. Just give yourself a chance with him.”
“A chance to what?”
“Be with someone again.”
“I w-w-want to,” I whispered. “But what if it goes the same way? W-what if I’m unbeable with?”
She actually rolled her eyes. My deepest, most desperate late-night fear, and that was the reaction it inspired. “You met someone, you fell in love, you were together a long time, you broke up amicably. That’s not exactly a tragedy.”
