‘My car.’ He threw his hands up and let them smack back down to his sides hopelessly. ‘I’ve lost it.’
My stomach constricted. ‘What do you mean, you’ve lost your car?’
He sniffed, and wiped his face with the back of his hand. ‘Can we sit down?’ He indicated the living room.
‘Just tell me what you’ve got to tell me here.’
He nodded sadly. ‘The car got – re-possessed. Because—’ He choked. ‘Because I borrowed more money to gamble and I…’
‘You lost it.’
‘Yes.’ His eyes searched mine out beseechingly but I refused to let him off that easily. I could feel the anger rising in me like a roar and I didn’t know how to make it stop.
‘How could you?’ The words felt like shards of glass as they left my throat.
‘I—’ He stopped, as if he realised there was no point trying to make excuses any longer.
‘You promised me. You said you’d never do anything like this again.’
‘I know and I meant it. Idomean it. I – it was just one slip. That’s all. I’ll make it up to you, I’ll pay it all back and more, and buy a new car. This isn’t the end of the world.’
I looked up at him sharply, the blood running icily in my veins. ‘I beg your pardon?’ My voice was cold, sharp.
‘I said it’s not the end of the world. I mean I know you’re angry, but I’ll make it right. This is just a setback. That’s all.’
I shook my head, trying to loosen my thoughts, to separate my feelings from the excuses he was making. ‘No.’
‘No?’
‘I mean no, Greg, you’re wrong. Thisisthe end of the world. For me at least.’ I looked him in the eye. ‘For us.’
‘But Erin…’ He stepped towards me, his arms outstretched and I took a step back, away from him. I didn’t want him anywhere near me.
‘No Greg. You promised, and you let me down. Again.’ I picked up Dog, nuzzled my face into his soft fur as he squirmed. ‘You asked me to renew our wedding vows only days ago. And now this. I – I just don’t think I can forgive you again,’ I whispered.
‘You can’t mean that. I mean, we can sort this out, can’t we? We can get over it, make it work? Makeuswork.’
I shook my head and looked down at the polished floorboards, at the tiny hole in Greg’s sock. ‘I honestly don’t think there’s any coming back from this. Not again.’
Greg took a step back as though he’d been slapped, and wrapped his arms round himself. ‘You don’t mean that. You just need a bit of time.’ His voice was low, as though he didn’t have the energy to speak. I didn’t reply, so after a couple of beats he walked past me, took his coat from the hook, picked up the running trainers he’d left there since his last run, and let himself quietly out of the house.
I waited until I was sure he’d gone, and then I crumpled onto the bottom stair and sobbed. I sobbed for me, for Greg, for everything we’d been and everything we could have been. I sobbed for what I felt sure was the end of the marriage that had meant so much to me for the last thirteen years.
Because Greg was wrong. I didn’t need more time.
It was too late for that.
28
NOW
Viola Beach: ‘Boys That Sing’
I knew I wasn’t helping myself, but after the showdown with Greg, I really needed to see Adam again. My mind was a mess; it felt like a canvas onto which a child had thrown an entire palette of paint and swirled the colours round with their hands until they formed a brown smudge, interspersed with occasional splashes of brightness. Adam, Greg; Greg, Adam.
It was impossible to think straight. Because despite my anger with Greg, was I really ready to call it a day?
I’d asked Adam to come to my office. It felt more business-like, more proper. As I waited for him, my shoulders were hunched, my hands were bunched into fists, and my feet bounced up and down on the tiled floor. I felt as though I might explode.
