The Girl in the Corner
Page 24
An involuntary laugh left her mouth. ‘Honestly, Howard? I think it’s more important that we work on actually becoming united rather than worrying about showing a united front.’
‘Well, of course!’
‘You say “of course”, but since we’ve been back you have just jumped into bed as if everything is rosy, and you seem . . .’
‘I seem what?’
She noticed the pulse of tension on his temple. ‘You seem to think that everything is forgiven, forgotten . . . and it’s not. The reason we got on better, were able to chat more openly in Antigua, was that you were not only giving me a bit of space, but showing contrition. It was quite seductive; I loved our openness, talking about the baby.’
‘About Toby,’ he corrected.
She nodded, closing her eyes briefly, the words and image still painful. ‘Yes, talking about Toby. It meant the world; and I was interested to see where greater remorse and explanation from you and greater exploration from me might lead us. But instead it’s like we were running a race. We got halfway around the track and you saw a shortcut and ran off – leaving me to plod on, alone again.’
He stared at her. ‘Just so I understand, you were happiest when I was on my knees, begging for forgiveness?’
‘No, not happiest, far from it. But I was willing to listen. And you don’t have to be on your knees – that’s not what I am saying – but I did like the sincerity of it and we do need to talk about it more. I still have so many questions. I feel—’
‘Oh God, Rae!’ he interrupted. ‘I am trying, you know I am, but you seem to think there is some mystery to it, some deep-rooted reason that needs exploring, and there isn’t! There really isn’t!’ He raised his palms and looked skyward, and this she understood, as she too recently had been hoping for some divine inspiration to shed light on the whole sordid episode. ‘It was sex, drunk sex, nothing more, and I let it go to my head and it turned into a flattering two-week thing that I regret. I bitterly, bitterly regret it and I wish . . .’ He now balled his fingers into fists and spoke through gritted teeth. ‘I wish I could erase it and I wish you knew just how sorry I am. Because I am.’
She looked at her husband standing before her, his expression one of frustration. And she felt a spike of guilt, no matter how misplaced, because it was her who had raised the topic – and also her who was thinking about the possibility of a future that might not include him at all. It felt mean, making him work for forgiveness and the promise of a future when there was even the smallest chance she was going to walk anyway.
‘I love you, Rae. I love you so much and I love my kids and I can’t, we can’t, let this one thing sour everything. That would be such a waste. Please. Especially not tonight. Please.’
‘Okay.’ She nodded, knowing she too did not have the energy for the fight, looking back down through the window as Fifi sniffed around the lamppost outside their house. ‘Okay.’
She and Dolly stared at the walls of the stripped-out space that only a few weeks ago had been the cosy heart of the home. With just this one room so cold and bare, the whole house had been thrown out of kilter.
‘All this because of a pizza?’
‘I know, right.’ Rae sighed and pressed her hand to the newly plastered wall, which had a kind of earthy smell that was a little unpleasant but miles better than the smoke-infused cupboards that used to be there. ‘I am trying to look on the bright side: a new kitchen – yay! – but my heart sinks at the thought of it.’
‘Did you ever find out what kind of pizza it was?’
‘No! I did not.’ Rae laughed. ‘But as Hannah and Niamh are due any minute, you can ask them yourself.’
Dolly folded her arms over her scarlet cold-shoulder blouse and chewed her gum. ‘So how do you feel about it all?’
‘The kitchen?’
‘No, the lesbians.’
‘God, I wish everyone would stop asking me about it!’ Rae rubbed her forehead.
‘Well, what did you expect?’ Dolly raised an eyebrow.
‘Not this, actually.’ She sighed. ‘I feel it’s a shame that when George brought Ruby home for the first time we were just all looking forward to meeting her and it felt exciting. Good nerves, you know? We all wanted to make the right impression.’
‘Have you met our family? Good luck with that!’ Dolly yelled.
‘Seriously, Dolly, it was a good feeling. But this is different and it shouldn’t be. I feel like people are being more judgemental or keen to be part of the spectacle, but it’s just Hannah bringing back someone she loves. Nothing more. Nothing less.’
‘I think you might be a little oversensitive. People, me included, are just happy that Hannah has found someone worthy of her, someone she likes enough to want to introduce to us all. Could you be projecting your unease?’
Rae considered this. ‘I don’t think so! God, I hope not! I just want Niamh to feel welcome. I want to help her like Hannah and that means liking us, I think. I remember the first time I met Mitzy and Arturo and they were so nice to me – it kind of drew me in.’
‘That was their cunning plan, to hide how nuts they were!’
‘Put on a united front?’ Rae suggested, recalling her exchange with Howard.
‘Exactly!’ Dolly boomed. ‘We could put rainbow flags up and set my Joan Armatrading CD on repeat.’
‘You are not funny, Dolly.’ Rae fired her friend a look as the front doorbell rang. She swept from the room and along the hallway, opening the door with a smile.
‘George! Ruby! Hello, darlings!’ She gathered first Ruby and then George into wide hugs. ‘It’s so good to see you!’
‘How was Antigua?’ George asked, as he placed a hand on Ruby’s lower back and followed her inside.
‘It was lovely. I got you these.’ Rae reached for the two little wrapped parcels from the hall table and handed them out.
Ruby pulled her leather bangles from the wrappings first.
‘Thank you, Rae!’ Ruby kissed her cheek. ‘They are gorgeous.’
Rae liked the way the girl admired them on her arm, her delight genuine. Then George opened his own gift, and stared at the T-shirt that in the sunshine had seemed like a good bet. Now, however, in the grey gloom of a London evening, even she could see that a bright yellow sunshine rising over the water with the word ‘Cool’ written on it was in fact anything but.
‘Is that an epic fail, George?’ she asked sheepishly.
‘No! It’s great, Mum. I’m always looking for T-shirts to wear under my football top.’
She laughed, and Ruby, George and Dolly joined in.
‘Hey, kids!’ Howard came up the lower stairs with Vinnie, the two no doubt having been colluding in front of the TV.
‘Mum bought me this!’ George held up the T-shirt with a fixed grin.
‘Wow!’ Howard sucked air through his teeth. ‘I would like you to know that I was not present when that particular beauty was purchased.’
‘It’s one of her best!’ George shook his head in disdain. ‘I shall put it with the dreamcatcher you got me from Malta and the ice cream clock, which I seem to remember was from Santa last year.’
‘But you like ice cream!’ Rae pointed out. ‘And that’s what I told Santa.’
‘Mum, I do like ice cream. I also like scratching my feet at the end of the day, sunbathing naked and hummus, but I don’t want a clock featuring any of those things either.’
‘Don’t be so mean to your mum – she was only doing something lovely for you!’
‘Thank you, Ruby.’ Rae smiled at the girl’s defence.
‘Have you seen the kitchen all stripped out?’ Dolly grimaced.
‘No! Hannah called us in a panic on the day of the Great Fire of Lawns Crescent. I wasn’t around, so I called Sadie and Paul.’ George followed his aunt, before turning back. ‘Oh, Mum, can you get my dinner jacket dry-cleaned? We have a formal dinner thing at college next Friday and it’s at the back of my wardrobe.’
‘Of course I can.’ She ma
de a note to pop it on her list, her ever-growing list . . .
The doorbell rang again. Rae glanced at Howard and pulled her shoulders back, digging deep to find a smile.
This time, her parents stood there. ‘Mum! Dad! Hello! Thought you were Hannah.’
‘Is she not here yet?’ her mum asked, shrugging her arms from her coat and handing it to her daughter. Rae took it and kissed her dad on the cheek.
‘Not yet, no. Any minute!’
‘Good Lord, public transport gets worse!’ Her dad removed his hat and placed it on top of his wife’s coat.
Rae stood with her arms out, feeling like the cloakroom attendant. ‘Did you not get the taxi I organised to pick you up from the station?’ She felt her gut bunch at the thought that all the pre-planning had been pointless.
‘We did, we did, but the train was dirty. Wasn’t it, Maureen?’
‘It was, very dirty.’ Her mum pulled a face of disapproval.
‘Ah, well, taxis from the station I can organise. The cleaning of a whole train carriage? That’s a bit harder.’
‘Any chance of a cup of tea, love? I am gasping.’ Her mum stuck out her tongue as if to prove how very parched she was.
‘Of course. You guys go sit in the lounge and I’ll go and make tea.’ She ran up the stairs and laid her parents’ coats and hat on the bed in the spare bedroom before running back down to the dining room, grabbing the kettle from the top of the small fridge they’d placed in the corner of the room and running back up the stairs to fill it in the bathroom. The basin in the downstairs cloakroom was narrow, way too small to accommodate the kettle. She looked out of the window at the encroaching drizzle and pondered how easily she had slipped back into her old life, her familiar role, running and fetching at everyone’s beck and call, and it left her a little cold. She wondered at what point over the last twenty-five years it had happened – when was it, exactly, that she had become the person who did while everyone else sat? She pictured the train heading in a new direction, sitting at the platform; the engine was being stoked and she could hear the whistle signalling that it was ready to leave the station, and she felt a rising sense of panic at the thought that there was very little chance of her actually being on board.
Where does that train go, Rae? And how do you buy a ticket?
‘Any chance of a beer, Mum?’ George headed her off in the hallway and rubbed his hands eagerly. ‘Not sure where to find them now we have no kitchen!’
‘Oh, George, I know, it’s a nightmare. I have things stacked in boxes and a fridge in the dining room . . . Yes, beer! Where’s Dad? I thought he was on drinks?’ She had rather banked on some help from him.
‘With Vinnie in the garden.’
‘Right, let me just get Nan and Grandad a cup of tea and I’ll go find you one.’
‘And can Ruby get a Coke?’
‘Yes, darling, of course. Where’s Dolly?’
‘She’s showing Ruby holiday photos on her phone. Apparently you got right into your cocktails!’ he laughed.
‘I did!’ . . . especially one that was rather delicious, a little green one called Why-The-Fuck-Do-I-Have-To-Do-Everything-Around-Here-Do-You-People-Actually-Think-I-Am-Staff?
‘Have you said hello to your grandparents?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Do me a favour, George, go and sit with them, make sure they are okay. They love to see you. I’ll be back in a sec.’
Rae hurried to the dining room and made tea in the corner, looking around for somewhere to place the used tea bags and leaving them piled on the spoon, resting on top of the fridge. She carried the teas through to her parents in the sitting room who sat side by side on the sofa, her dad on the left, her mum on the right, chatting to George, who was making them chuckle with tales from college. Her heart felt gladdened by the interaction.
‘Yes! Honest, Nan – fourteen of us sharing one tiny bathroom! Can you imagine how grim it gets? And the girls’ bathrooms are worse!’
‘Have you spoken to your sister, Rae?’ her mum asked with pursed lips, as she held her teacup.
‘I haven’t. Is she okay?’
‘She is.’ Her mum sipped her tea. ‘Well, I say that, but Taylor has had a tummy bug and she was worried about him giving it to Luke. I shall give her a ring later – good to keep in touch.’
Rae caught the barbed nudge that she needed to make more effort with her sister, despite her sister making none with her.
‘She said to remind you she needs your dates for the caravan,’ her mum continued. ‘Lee’s mum and dad want to know when it’s available and when it’s not. They rent it out, you know, and so it might seem pushy, but it’s a reasonable request.’
Shit! Shit! Shit!
‘Yes, of course, very reasonable – and to be honest, Mum, I forgot! It’s been a bit bonkers since we got back.’
Rae pictured her list and mentally underlined Check dates and send to Debbie-Jo. She wondered what might be best, whether she wanted to go at all and how it might look if she asked to go alone. A trial run, maybe, of spending time without Howard; seeing how everyone coped without her and how she coped without them.
‘Well, shall we tell her you will get back to her by the end of the weekend? And she can pass that on to Lee’s parents? So they know when they can rent it out? It’s very kind of them to let you have the caravan, without inconveniencing them as well.’
‘Erm . . .’ While Rae considered this, the front doorbell rang. George walked to the window and pulled the lace curtain so he could see the front door. ‘It’s not Hannah. Looks like a food delivery.’
‘Ah, yes, thank you, George.’ Rae ran to the front door and opened it wide to the three young girls in Latimers Kitchen uniforms of white T-shirts, black jeans and rust and leather aprons. Her stomach flipped at the thought that these girls might know Karina; she had looked just like them, young and sassy. She felt the cloak of inadequacy rest heavily on her middle-aged shoulders.
‘Oh, hello! Thank you so much! You are absolute lifesavers.’
She stood back to let the three enter with arms full of hefty trays of pasta salad, breads and dips, a platter of various cold meats, one of cheese and a sumptuous selection of mini-puddings – profiteroles, dinky strawberry tarts, lemon panna cotta, the whole plate dotted with sugar-dusted berries. It looked beautiful. Rae was happy, knowing that in lieu of one of her homemade buffets this would do Hannah proud.
‘This way!’ She walked ahead and the girls followed her to the dining room, where the table was set with a white linen cloth. The girls placed the trays down and helped arrange the food. ‘We have had a kitchen disaster and I am so grateful.’
‘No worries. We heard.’ One of the girls smiled shyly and Rae felt a flash of heat on her cheeks at the thought that these girls might know more about her life than just the fact that her kitchen had burned down – Karina, Karina, Karina, here you are again, the thought of you making you present in my home.
‘Well, don’t let me keep you.’ She swallowed. ‘I’m sure you want to get back to the restaurant, but thank you once again!’ she offered brightly. ‘I really do appreciate it.’
As she ushered them to the front door, Howard appeared with Vinnie in tow.
‘The food came. I didn’t know whether to tip the girls who delivered it?’ Her tone was clipped, her anger swelling again.
‘All taken care of; they’re getting an extra coupla hours’ pay on their shift later.’
‘Good, great – and the food looks lovely. Thank you.’ She smiled curtly, wanting, above all else tonight, to keep the peace.
‘Of course!’ Vinnie laughed. ‘Only the best ingredients!’
‘Howard, George was after a beer—?’
He pointed: ‘Everything’s in the dining room.’
‘Righto!’ She nodded.
‘I am just getting some ideas from Vinnie about kitchen wholesalers who might be able to do us a deal. He’s got some good ideas.’ He slapped his brother-in-law on the back.
‘Any chance of another cup of tea, darling?’ her mum asked sweetly, holding out her now-empty teacup.
‘Yes! What about you, Dad? Another cuppa?’ She drummed her fingers on her thigh and fought the urge to scream.
‘Oh, well, as you’re making!’
Rae waited while he slurped the last of his brew and handed her his cup. She marched up the stairs to rinse the cups and made her way back to the dining room to collect the kettle for filling. As she opened the bathroom door on the second floor she heard the front doorbell. Dumping the kettle on the floor she trotted down the stairs, wanting to be the one who greeted Hannah and Niamh before all mayhem broke.
‘Mitzy! Arturo! Hello! Come in, come in!’ She kissed her in-laws on the cheek, trying not to stare at Mitzy’s make-up: her blue eyeshadow sat in a wide block beneath her painted eyebrows and her bright orange lipstick sat on and around her lips. She hoped that she was still as glamour-conscious when she was Mitzy’s age, but also that her aim with the brush might be a little better.
Mitzy grabbed her arm. ‘Someone needs to tell him he can’t drive any more.’ She jerked her head towards her husband. ‘He is going to kill himself, he goes so slowly. People were overtaking and he kept bumping the kerb – and if that’s how he wants to go that is up to him, but I don’t want to be in the car when it happens. He is not taking me with him! I still have a life to lead! I want to dance!’
‘Ignore her, Rae-Valentine, she is senile!’ Arturo shook his head. Both took off their coats and handed them to Rae, who again stood with her arms held out.
‘I am not senile! But he’d like it if I was – then he’d be free to get up to God-knows-what with God-knows-who!’
‘I am eighty-six, woman! What do you think I can get up to? For the love of God!’ He threw his hands in the air.
‘My mum and dad are in the lounge; George is there too. Let me go and dump your coats and I’ll come and grab you both a drink.’ Rae smiled tightly.