‘Can we talk about this?’
‘Have you got anything more to tell me?’
‘No, I . . .’
‘I can’t deal with this, Lily. This whole situation is so far from anything I ever expected from you. Is this why you’ve been so funny about us getting engaged? Why you haven’t wanted to tell people? Why you almost didn’t even say yes?’
I nod, downcast.
He exhales deeply. ‘So you’ve been hanging out for this guy for how long?’
‘Ten years.’
‘And what happened?’
‘I bumped into him when I went to the zoo with my sisters.’ I explain about Ben’s divorce, how we worked together at the conservation park, how I discovered he had feelings for me back then. Richard, to his enormous credit, doesn’t make any derogatory remarks this time, but I can tell by his face how hard it is to hear.
‘I don’t understand,’ he says eventually. He’s sitting on the sofa and I’m on the armchair across from him, as we were last night. ‘How you could even consider throwing all this away.’ He indicates the house around us. ‘And you and me. We’re so good together, Lils. At least, I thought we were.’
‘We are,’ I insist. ‘We are. I love you, but—’
‘Don’t,’ he says with anguish, so I cut my sentence short. ‘Look, I’m not going to beg you. Either you love me enough or you don’t. All I know is that I don’t think I can be around you while you’re making up your mind. And that doesn’t mean I want you to be around him, either.’
He looks at me and says fiercely, ‘I mean it. If you call him or see him again, it’s over.’
Pain clutches my heart.
‘Go and stay with your mum for a couple of days,’ he suggests. ‘Think it through. Then I hope we can move on from this. But I’m not going to fight him for you,’ he adds bitterly. ‘You can make up your own mind. And I hope to fuck you come to your senses and realise that the grass isn’t always greener.’
Chapter 27
Richard goes back to Nathan and Lucy’s house that night, because it hurts him too much to be with me. I’ll go to Mum’s flat straight after work tomorrow. Richard has asked me not to call him for a couple of days. I tell Mum I’ll fill her in when I get there because I don’t want to talk about it over the phone. I still don’t know if I’ll tell her the whole truth.
She’s at work when I arrive the following evening. I have my old key from when I lived there so I let myself in. My bedroom is cold, damp and dark. I’ve barely eaten in days and I can’t face making anything for myself now. That’s even presuming there’s anything in the fridge because, knowing my mum, it’ll be as bare as Old Mother Hubbard’s cupboard.
She comes home just after eleven to find me dozing, fully dressed, on my single bed. I wrestle my eyes open to see her looking down at me, still kitted-out in her restaurant manager’s uniform of black trousers and a tight-fitting black shirt. She looks tired.
‘Do you want me to get you anything?’ she asks.
I shake my head blearily.
‘A cup of tea?’
‘No. Just sleep.’
‘Will you get ready for bed?’ she tries.
‘No,’ I murmur.
‘Okay, honey.’ She closes the door quietly behind her.
In the morning she’s dead to the world. I don’t feel like talking anyway, so I patch up my bloated face and red-rimmed eyes as best as I can and go into work. The journey takes longer than I thought it would, so even though I leave early, I end up arriving a few minutes late. I rush past reception, mouthing to Nicola and Mel that I’ll talk to them later. I get an email soon after I sit at my desk.
Lunch? Mel writes. Iheard a rumour there was leek and potato on today.
I manage a wry smile as I type back my assent.
Nicola has to man the desk so it’s just Mel and me. We wander to the soup kitchen and pick up some takeaway before heading to a nearby square, where I fill Mel in on the latest.
