Jonah was fully dressed when he brought my coffee down to me in the garden that morning, tweed blazer under his winter overcoat. ‘I thought I might go around to Fi’s and help her get the kids off to school,’ he said, stroking some hair behind my ear. ‘Maybe sit her down and tell her about the work situation. Explain that no matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere.’
I nodded, wrapping my fingers around my coffee mug. ‘That sounds like a good idea.’
‘But if you need me…’
‘Then you’ll be right around the corner,’ I finished. ‘I know, Jonah. I know that if I need you, you’ll come.’
He kissed my temple tenderly. ‘Always.’
He was gone by the time I went back upstairs, but he’d left breakfast for me – a jar of overnight oats in the fridge. There was a Post-it stuck to it.I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say I love you, he’d written.Henry V 5.2. Also me. xx
I looked at the note for a long moment, then I folded it up and slipped it in my bra. I had to do this by myself, but I wanted his words against my skin just in case.
Because if Chess didn’t come…
I started pacing.
I’d imagined three separate knocks on the door by the time the real one came, four quick raps that sent me jumping out of my skin. I’d changed my outfit twice and put my hair up, taken it down and put it up again, but I was second-guessing everything as I raced to the door. What if having my hair up made Chess think this was just a business meeting? What if I was taking too long to answer the door and she left? What if it wasn’t even her and she’d sent thelawyer friend who’d answered the phone to help me instead? She’d said that I could call her, not that she’dcome.
‘Hi, Sadie,’ Chess said, when I opened the door.
She looked… exhausted. Drained, the way Fiona did sometimes when the kids were really putting her through it. There were dark circles under her eyes that I hadn’t seen since her early days climbing the legal ladder. Her hair was pulled back so severely it was tugging at her skin.
I wanted so badly to hug her. I wanted to put my arms around her and not let go, the way I used to when I was a little girl. I wanted her to laugh and hug me back, and say,oh, sweetie, it’s so good to see you.
But she didn’t move. And so neither could I.
‘You must have had an awful flight,’ I blurted out. ‘It’s so early.’ She had no luggage, I realised. Just her handbag. She wasn’t planning to stay.
I balled my fist, resisting the urge to rub my hand over the ache in my chest. ‘Come in.’
‘Thank you.’
So polite. So formal. So un-Chess.
I bit my lip hard as I closed the door behind her, trying desperately not to cry. At least she washere. That was something. That was a start.
‘Cup of tea?’ I asked her. ‘Or coffee?’
‘Coffee would be great. Thanks.’
‘I’ll warn you, Jonah usually makes the coffee,’ I said, going on tiptoes to get the beans down from the cupboard. ‘We bought this new machine about a month ago and I’m not entirely sure how to use it yet. Sorry if I fuck it up.’
‘That’s all right.’ Chess was looking out the window. ‘Your view is beautiful.’
‘I know, right? Imagine how much this kind of view over the water would cost in Sydney. Although this place should really be costing us a lot more than it does, given how shit the Hobart rental market is. Our landlord is way too nice to us. I told you about him in my letters, right? Isamu? The winemaker from Bibliophile?’
She didn’t say anything.
‘You did…’ I hesitated. ‘You did read my letters, didn’t you?’
‘Of course I read your letters, swee— Sadie.’
The brutal way she cut herself off from sayingsweetiewas like a knife between my ribs.
Chess set her handbag down. ‘What do you need?’
Just that.What do you need?, like I was one of her clients, about to be billed in six-minute increments.
