‘Is it the same heart?’ I check.
He nods and looks up at the shelves. ‘I’d forgotten she threw it up there.’
‘Sheput it up there?’ I ask with surprise.
‘Yeah.’ He smiles a small, ironic smile and shifts on his feet.‘Threwit. We were in the middle of an argument.’
Oh.
‘It was a week or so before she died,’ he reveals.
This is probably another one of those moments when I should shut the hell up, but instead I ask, ‘What were you arguing about?’ and prepare for him to tell me to shut the hell up.
He slides down the length of the filing cabinet until he’s sitting on the floor, his elbows resting on his bent knees in front of him.
‘It was just a stupid argument.’ He stares ahead in a daze. ‘We were both absolutely knackered. I had a big job I was trying to finish, April had colic and wouldn’t stop crying, Nicki wanted peace and quiet to do some writing and I told her she’d have to wait until April was asleep because I needed to crack on. She got so angry at me that she picked up the heart and hurled it at the wall. It landed up there.’ He nods at the bookshelves. ‘I told her it could stay the fuck up there for all I cared, because I was never going to finish it if she didn’t stop being such a bitch, then I walked out and slammed the door and had to listen to April screaming blue murder all afternoon.’ He shakes his head and a single tear rolls down his cheek. He brushes it away.
‘Itdoessound like a stupid argument,’ I say.
‘We used to have them all the time,’ he replies. ‘We were like that. Loved her to hell and back, but, Christ, we fought like cats and dogs.’
I don’t know why, but this surprises me.
‘How—’ I clear my throat. ‘How did she die?’ I ask cautiously. ‘I mean, was there any warning?’
‘Maybe, but I wasn’t here.’ He swallows, running his palm across the carpet and staring at his hand fixatedly. ‘I was delivering a playhouse. The doctor said she might’ve felt a headache – I later found out it would’ve been the most painful headache ever, like,unbearablepain. I found her in April’s room, collapsed beside her cot.’ He swallows again, tears welling up in his eyes. ‘April was fast asleep. Nicki was already gone.’ His tears spill over and he brushes them away again. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be,’ I whisper, fighting back tears myself.
I feel compelled to go and sit beside him on the carpet. I do it without thinking. He stays very still, very quiet, tears rolling relentlessly down his cheeks.
‘I couldn’t believe it.’ He sounds stunned. ‘I couldn’t believe what was happening. She wasgone. Just like that. I don’t even remember calling the ambulance. I think I just went into shock. Thank God for Jocelyn. She came over when she saw the ambulance pull up and took April until I’d had a chance to call our parents. I don’t remember those conversations either.’ He looks utterly bewildered. ‘Sorry, I don’t know why I’m even talking about all of this to you,’ he says, shaking himself.
‘I don’t mind,’ I say. ‘I’m a pretty good listener.’
‘Yeah, but that’s not what you’re here for.’
He gets to his feet, but I stay where I am, dazed and wounded.
But, of course, I’m not his friend. I’m his wife’s ghostwriter. I’m here to do a job. I’d probably do well to remember that.
Chapter 22
Two days later, Charlie starts rebuilding Nicki’s heart. He repairs the fragments that came apart with the force of the blow when she threw it against the wall, and paints the new pieces of driftwood pale pink before fixing them into the missing section with silver wire.
‘It’s beautiful,’ I say when he’s finished. I’ve been sitting on the sofa, rolling a giggling April around on my lap, but I stop when he comes over to show me what he’s done. ‘Will you put it on her wall next to the seahorse?’
‘I don’t know. What do you think?’ He seems to genuinely want my opinion.
‘I think they’d look great side by side.’
He nods and starts to leave the kitchen, the heart in his hands, before halting and looking back at me. ‘Will you be okay with April for a bit?’
‘Sure.’
A short while later a hammering noise starts up from above our heads. April gazes at the ceiling with interest.
‘Bridget?’ Charlie calls out.
