She can, however, admire the concentration of two supposedly wildly mismatched players biting their lips and puffing out air as they concentrate; Ivy is holding her own against Alex, who has not taken the easy way out and let her win within minutes, even when hesurely must have had the opportunity to. She admires this about him: this treating Ivy like an equal, with the respect she deserves. Since Jess doesn’t understand chess, she can’t possibly know how good Alex is, or whether he’s faking being terrible when in fact he was a world champion in a past life. In her head, she runs through the synopses of his novels: no main character who is a chess grandmaster, so perhaps that’s a clue that it’s not something he excels at in any noteworthy way.
Ivy and Alex seem to be settled in for the duration, each one taking turns to groan at the other’s brilliant moves. They’ve entered their alternate universe, one that Jess is not a part of. So she pulls out her laptop and works on adding affiliate links to her latest Substack post – something mindless she can do while still half-watching Ivy holding her own, and Alex unpatronisingly praising her. It’s inevitable, and she hates the cliché, but it goes through her head nonetheless:What a great dad he’d make.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Alex
‘Ivy seemed to take to you,’ Jess says, after her grandma has popped in to pick her up and reassure Jess that the doctor has pronounced that her grandpa is fine, that his fall was unlikely to be related to cognitive decline.
‘She’s very sweet.’
There’s certainly no denying that. It’s not immediately obvious that Ivy is related to Jess, even with the wavy blonde hair and the dusting of freckles, but he felt instantly attached to her in an uncle/niece kind of way. He has learned through his life that family is what and who you make it, and little Ivy could easily be part of his. He is pleased with himself for letting her win in a way that wasn’t obvious to her, so that she still got to be proud. She deserves to be; she’s genuinely talented for a seven-year-old.
But it freaks him out how easily he has got attached, how quickly his brain seems to have accepted Jess’s family as his family too. When Ellen had asked what they were to each other, he hadn’t known what to say, had let Jess do the talking. Jess’s response indicated that she didn’t know either. And now, he feels a little nauseous,a little like he unknowingly wandered onto a roller coaster which doesn’t appear to have an obvious end point. He wasn’t ready – isn’t ready – for commitment. He wants to get off and wait for the dizziness to fade. He’s a mess, still, and he doesn’t want to get into a relationship till he’s sorted himself out.
‘I’m hoping to spend a bit more time with her, actually,’ Jess says. Her tone is the tone of someone who is trying to sound casual but is actually saying something that matters a great deal to her.
‘Oh?’
‘My grandparents aren’t getting any younger. They’ve spent a lot of time looking after family – looking after me! And it’s time they were able to travel the world a little, you know? Maybe my grandpa’s fall really was nothing. But maybe one day he’ll hurt himself, or my grandma will, and then they’ll have mobility issues, and … well, they deserve to have some fun before it gets harder. But Ivy stays with them a lot, and so that would mean I’d need to step in.’
His chest feels tight, suddenly. But he fights to ignore it. ‘What’s the story with Ivy’s parents?’
‘Her dad travels a lot for work, and her mum – my cousin – has chronic fatigue and she needs a lot of rest. Which isn’t always possible with a seven-year-old around. She also worries about her daughter seeing her so unwell. Which I totally get.’
Alex bites the inside of his cheek. ‘That makes sense.’
Because of course it does, whether you look at it logically or even emotionally. But just like at the restaurant with Jess’s mother, Alex feels trapped,breathless. He counts backwards from ten, but his heart rate still feels elevated, so he tries counting backwards from 100 in threes. Better, much better. More distracting.
But now he is aware that Jess is looking at him weirdly. Is he sweating? He might be.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah. No. I mean, I think I need to go home.’
Her brow furrows, and he sees it – the family resemblance with Ivy, when she had crinkled her own brow in response to finding out he is a boy despite being called Alex.
‘Can I get you some water at least?’
‘Yeah. That would be good.’ He forces himself to make eye contact as he adds, ‘Thank you.’ He downs the glass and escapes out of Jess’s flat as fast as he can.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Jess
Jess can’t believe he’s done it again – walked out in the middle of a difficult moment, rather than addressing whatever the issue is that needs addressing. Maybe he genuinely didn’t feel well. He was pale, sweating. Maybe she should go after him, check he is okay, not slumped in the middle of the street somewhere, gasping for breath.
It’s hard to know, though, what her responsibility should be, what she is to him. What they are to each other, really. It’s never been explicitly defined, even during the dinner with her mum, which had seemed to be a massive step forward. She paces her tiny living room, grabs her keys, then runs down the stairs to her front door, round the corner, a few steps up the road. She spots Alex ahead of her, in his red shirt, his head bobbing as he turns into Pimlico Tube station. Good – he’s made it that far. He’s not slumped in the middle of the street after all. And even if she starts running now, she’ll likely not catch up to him before he gets on a Tube. It’s the first time she’s felt outraged at how frequently the Victoria Line trainsarrive. Who would have thought that could be an inconvenience?
Honestly, give me strength some days, she types into WhatsApp. She double-checks she’s sending it to Lily and not anyone else. Since the email incident last year, she always double-checks.
Alex?
How did you guess?
Call me psychic.
Dots appear, disappear, reappear.Gareth is away this weekend, if you want to come over for dinner?
