‘I’ll take my chances elsewhere.’ She briefly glanced at Charlie. ‘I’ll leave it to fate to decide who I should be with.’When Vicky cleared her throat pointedly, Alix corrected herself. ‘Okay, fateandMiss Matchmaker over there.’
The evening and the conversation flowed and Charlie was aware he should have been sitting on cloud nine. But even when they gave each other a peck on the cheek goodbye and arranged to meet at the weekend – this time just the two of them – he didn’t leave with the expectation this was the start of something new and exciting.
Back in his house-share bedroom, Charlie lay on his back on his bed, his hand in his underwear, touching himself as he imagined peeling off Alix’s clothes and slowly working his mouth around her body until, finally, they made love. He became aroused but try as he might, he couldn’t climax. His erection was a biological reaction to physical stimulation and nothing else. Had he not touched it, his penis would have remained motionless. Alix didn’t arouse him because no one did. And he was neither annoyed nor disappointed by it. Only curious as to how far he would need to push himself to feelanythingagain.
Chapter 35
SINÉAD, EDZELL, SCOTLAND
‘I owe you an apology,’ began Sinéad.
Hovering awkwardly on Gail’s doorstep, Sinéad looked towards the small posy of wild flowers she’d picked that morning on a woodland walk. Now, it felt like a childish gesture.
A week had passed since the friends had last met. Twice, Gail had appeared at Sinéad’s house and on both occasions, Sinéad had hidden behind the kitchen door and ignored the bell. Eventually she recognised that she was allowing history to repeat itself. She was isolating herself and treating Gail in the same way she had handled her friends after marrying Daniel. She’d even ignored a visit from Doon in case they too had been discussing her.
‘Can I come in and explain, just for a few minutes?’ Sinéad asked. Gail hesitated, before stepping to one side. Sinéad followed her into the kitchen where they’d chatted over mug after mug of flavoured tisane teas. Gail offered Sinéad her usual seat at the island and filled a mosaic-patterned teapot from the boiling-water tap. Gail laid the flowers on the draining board.
‘Last week …when you asked me to look after Taylor …’ Sinéad began. ‘I wanted to, I really did, but I just couldn’t.’
‘Why not?’
Sinéad considered modifying her backstory but this washerstory. This wasn’t a secret she was keeping for national safety. Her brain was too crammed with the lies of others to make up more of her own. It was time for honesty.
‘Before I came here, I was married,’ she began, her line of sight now directed beyond Gail and into the garden. ‘We weren’t a good combination and it was only after I escaped him that I fully appreciated just how toxic our relationship was. But a couple of years after we married, I fell pregnant. By then, I’d already suffered several miscarriages and when you’ve been through something like that more than once, you automatically assume the worst. Only this time, the worst didn’t happen.’
Sinéad paused and felt the warmth of her friend’s hand rest on her arm. She heard Taylor’s light breathing quietly coming through a baby monitor. Sinéad’s throat tightened.
‘Lilly was born at six-forty-seven a.m. in hospital on a Monday morning after twenty-eight hours of labour. She was our – she wasmy– little miracle. A wee thing at four and a half pounds, she was just perfect. Then five weeks to the day after coming into the world, she left it.’ The words snagged as she said them.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Gail. She pushed back in her chair and stood behind Sinéad, wrapping both arms tightly around her shoulders. Sinéad recalled that in the immediate aftermath of Lilly’s death, no one had offered that same comfort. Not Daniel, not the paramedics, nor the police.
However, the sound of the front door opening brought a premature halt to their conversation. The women fell silent until Anthony appeared in the kitchen. Catching sight of his wife’s guest, his face dropped. Its recovery wasn’t fast enough to fool Sinéad. She had seen it many times before in Daniel’s expression. She was not welcome and she doubted if any of Gail’s friends ever were.
‘I didn’t know you were expecting guests,’ he began.
‘She wasn’t, I was just passing by and thought I’d drop in,’ Sinéad replied.
‘Is … everything all right?’ he directed towards his wife.
‘Can you give us a few minutes, please?’ asked Gail.
‘Why?’
‘We’re in the middle of something.’
Anthony’s posture straightened, as if assuming he was the topic of conversation. Gail continued the deadlock before offering Sinéad an apologetic glance and leading her husband out of the kitchen and into the lounge where their daughter was sleeping. The door closed, but Sinéad couldn’t help but hear their conversation through the baby monitor.
‘I’m not allowed in my own bloody house because she’s here?’ Anthony hissed.
‘We were discussing something personal …’
‘And so were we this morning until you decided that we weren’t any more and walked out. What could she have to say that’s more important than us trying to sort outourproblems?’
‘Please, not now, Anthony.’ Gail sounded weary, as if this was a frequently traversed argument.
‘What have you told her about us?’ Anthony pressed.
‘Nothing.’
