‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ I say in a seething whisper as his window winds down.
‘I just wanted to talk to you. It’s important. I can’t get what happened straight in my head.’
‘Hollis, if you do this again, I’ll never speak to you, do you understand?’
Hollis tries to argue, but I push his head back into his car and tell him he has to go.
‘I just want us to be together,’ he says. ‘Stephen doesn’t even love you.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ I say, ‘but today is Nelly’s admissions test and I need to focus on her.’
‘Right, sorry,’ he says.
I leave him and return to the house. I’ve put my heart on the line for Nelly. That’s what a mother should do for her daughter. Make sacrifices or, as in this case, make someone else make sacrifices for you.
Today, my daughter will get her place. There are several other targets but today, I want to prove to my own adorable little maniac that she can be with the best of them, that she can turn those strange urges into talents, and find some peace with the world. I want her to know that she doesn’t have to kill hamsters any more.
I had to wait until I was in my late twenties, when I met Stephen, to recognize I was not merely Hollis’s charity case or the sum of my wickedness. I recognized that I could be something else, if I could harness my emotional detachment and rationality to build something strong enough to hold me.
But the threads to the past weren’t cut decisively enough and it’s come back. And now, in spite of good planning, clear targets, an annual review, and even murder, things are collapsing. The past is gnawing away at the future, and the future is eating away at the present. It’s like saltwater surrounding the foundations of a bridge and eroding it from all sides.
Back in the house, I check my dress, straighten my hair, applymy make-up, and inspect Nelly’s outfit, which is an Adams uniform bought from their official supplier. This may seem a step too far, but I want Nelly to feel that she fits in.
Stephen emerges with ruffled hair and bleary eyes, to ask if the kettle’s just boiled. I say, ‘How the fuck should I know? Am I the fucking kettle monitor?’
He makes his coffee without further conversation. I tell him, as he butters his toast, that I’m pregnant.
‘What?’ he says.
‘Don’t you fuckingwhatme,’ I say. ‘I’m pregnant. You know what it means. We’re going to have a baby. I’m fucking ecstatic. I hope you’re fucking happy too. It’s fucking perfect. Happy fucking families! Nothing like a divorce and baby in the same week. Stuff of dreams.’
He stares at me, his mouth open, as I stomp to the doorway and shout at Aimée to get Nelly up.
‘You can’t be. We haven’t even...’ says Stephen.
‘Well, it was the doctor who called yesterday. I’d only gone to see if I was still fertile, and she said, “Yes, you are, in fact, we’re pretty sure because you’re up the fucking duff, Mrs Rook, congratulations.”’
‘Is it mine?’ Stephen asks.
I’m cutting the crusts off Nelly’s bread with a large, serrated bread knife, which is now pointing at him. ‘Are you questioningmyfidelity, Stephen?’
In the silence, I hear him gulp, although there was that indulgence with Zac so I couldn’t be absolutely sure.
‘I thought not. I’m committed to you, to the children, to our family. I’ve given you everything, and yet you think you can just walk away when it suits you.’
‘I just don’t see how you can be... pregnant.’
‘You were drunk, but it seems your half-hearted effort was enough. A congratulations would be nice. And to be frank, it’s exactly what we need. A new baby, Leopold, a new beginning, a new house, a new job, a new school. All we’ve ever dreamed of within reach. You just need to beg for your job back and throw Georgie off a tall building.’
‘Leopold, after my granddad?’
‘Yes.’
‘How do you know it’s a boy?’
‘Or Leopoldine. Doesn’t matter to me. Either way, Leo will cement our relationship, so you need to put the past to one side and I’ll forgive you this once. Consider yourself lucky to have got your bland and insipid affair out of the way and come away unscathed.’
He glares at me. I can see that Georgie didn’t tell him about my pregnancy. Probably thought it was a lie. I did, too, at the time.
