She reached up and wiped away a drop of rain from his cheek. ‘This means we can be together. Properly. Without her judging and turning Daddy against us.’ She pressed her mouth against his ear, her breath soft against his skin. ‘Now we can get married. It’s me and you against the world, Henry Morgan.’
‘Me and you against the world.’
She pulled away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear demurely, and he wondered if he’d imagined the smile in her voice when she whispered in his ear.
‘I’ve booked us a table at the Ritz for afternoon tea,’ she said, linking her arm through his. ‘We can celebrate our engagement.’
He should have told her then that it was in bad taste to celebrate so soon after her stepmother’s death, despite how much Marielle had disliked her. Maybe if he had it would have stopped things escalating. He could have managed her expectations. But her excitement was infectious, and all he cared about, in that moment, was how pleased he was that he hadn’t lost her.
25
LENA
When I get home from work I’m surprised to see Charlie’s van parked outside my house. He’s standing on the doorstep, looking flustered in his paint-splattered overalls, the sun highlighting the toffee tones of his hair.
‘What are you doing here?’ I brush past him to open the front door. He gave me back his key when he moved out. Phoenix charges out to greet us.
‘Just here to pick up Rufus.’
‘He’s at college.’
Charlie’s good-natured face looks momentarily confused. ‘Oh, yes, of course. I thought they’d finished for the summer.’
‘Not until next Wednesday. And, anyway, isn’t Rufus staying over at yours tomorrow night?’ He’d said we were watching a movie tonight.
He lifts his shoulders in a half-attempt at a shrug, then bends down to pat Phoenix’s head gingerly. Phoenix side-eyes him before strutting into the house.
‘That dog’s never liked me.’
I roll my eyes. ‘Don’t take it personally. He doesn’t really like men.’
‘He likes Rufus.’ Charlie straightens. ‘We talked about him coming to a gig tonight. Rufus, that is.’ He chuckles. ‘He wanted to do some filming. Something to do with one of his media projects.’
‘He said it was tomorrow night.’
‘Ah, yes, sorry about that. My fault. The date was moved.’
The equipment Rufus had brought home from college for the two-hander. I remember now. I bite back my disappointment. We can always watch the movie tomorrow night.
Charlie stands there, taking up most of the doorway. Funny how in just seven months he looks so out of place in what was once his home. He pulls at the straps of his overalls while rolling back on his heels, the action so familiar that I feel a lurch of nostalgia.
‘Do you … er … want to come in?’ We still haven’t talked about the house and he never answered my text about Susi offering me holiday cover.
His eyes widen in surprise. Then his expression relaxes. ‘If you’re sure?’
‘Of course.’
He follows me into the kitchen. The bin bag needs changing and there is the faint aroma of rotten veg. I open the patio doors, pour us both some lemonade without asking – it was always his favourite soft drink – and then, because there is no shade in our garden, we sit at the kitchen table with Phoenix flopped at our feet.
‘Doesn’t look like the weather’s going to break any time soon,’ he says, sipping his drink and looking awkward. Sometimes I can’t believe this is the man I shared my bed with for so many years, who was there at the birth of our son, who sang to my swollen belly when I was pregnant, who held my hair back when I was sick after a terrible bout of food poisoning, who wrote songs about me. He has seen me at my best and my worst. The person I thought knew me better than anyone. He’s like a stranger now. A stranger who has to make small-talk about the weather. Suddenly I feel heavy with sadness and unsaid words. What happens to all the emotions, all the love, after you split up? Where does it all go?
‘So,’ I say, coughing to disguise the crack in my voice, ‘you never texted me back about the mortgage. Susi has upped my hours to cover holiday leave. From next week I’ll be full time for a couple of weeks and she said if it goes well she’ll try to make it more permanent. Rufus is getting a summer job too, not that I’ll take any money from him, but …’
He raises his eyebrows. ‘That’s great.’ He looks down at his big hands, stroking his fingers across the wooden grain of the table. He’d bought it eight years ago from a reclamation yard and spent weeks sanding and revarnishing it so that it gleamed in all its honey-toned glory. He always did prefer to buy something pre-loved rather than brand new. He said he liked a piece of furniture to have a history. I feel a jolt of surprise when I see that he’s still wearing his wedding band. I wonder what his new girlfriend, Rosie, thinks about that.
‘So … you want to keep the house?’ he asks without looking at me.
‘Yes. Of course. I love it. This is where Rufus grew up. This was where …’ I was about to say this was where we were at our happiest, but it would feel wrong under the circumstances. Because it was also where I was at my most miserable. He almost sounds disappointed. Was he using my lack of full-time paid employment as an excuse to sell up?
