The Starter Home

by Bryony Fraser

  I tried to compose my face into one which didn’t scream ‘I’ve looked at every holiday picture you’ve ever posted on Facebook’ and turned around. ‘Hi. Zoe, please. And is it George?’

  He blushed. ‘Yes, hello. Wow, everyone’s really friendly here.’ His gentle Mancunian accent was delicious. I smiled at him and he blushed deeper. ‘I thought I’d only be down to do this bit of the training,’ he said, gesturing at the folder under his arm, ‘but it looks like I’ll be staying around a little longer. Anyway …’ He fumbled with his armful of files. ‘I just wanted to say hi.’

  I thought idly about how I’d have felt arriving in the Manchester school on my own and discovering I’d missed the chance to have George as my colleague. Then I remembered I was still here, in London, making Jack unhappy, and felt completely squashed once again.

  ‘And are you settling in alright here at Walker High?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, it’s grand. I mean – I miss Manchester, but London’s great. It’s just …’ He blushed again, apparently his main reaction when I made small talk. ‘I was talking to Benni and she said you might be able to show me around a bit?’

  I swivelled in my chair, craning towards Benni’s office. A blurry figure jerked back from the safety glass when it saw me looking.

  I looked back at George and began blushing too. ‘I’d really like that, George, only … I’m a bit busy at the moment … I’m just trying to sort some stuff you see—’

  ‘Fine, fine. Fine, no problem. Don’t worry about it. Maybe a coffee some time instead? I mean, here at school if you’re really busy?’

  I wanted to laugh, our blazing faces matching one another. ‘That’d be really nice, thanks. And don’t worry,’ I added, on second thought, ‘I’m sure I’ll manage to find some time to leave the school grounds for it. The coffee here is legendary only for its usefulness in our Chemistry experiments.’

  We swapped numbers, agreeing to arrange a coffee date soon, and George headed off, just as I caught Miks’s eye. ‘That. Was. Painful,’ he said.

  ‘Tell me about it,’ I muttered, and shook my fist only half jokingly in the direction of Benni’s office.

  Kat had asked me to come and meet her for drinks that evening, but I told her I’d arranged to see Liz, so she said to bring her along too, as it was just a big gang of them from work. Liz was happy to meet me there – ‘Perfect: corporate credit cards o’clock’ were her actual words – but things had been so hectic that I’d somehow not thought that Kat’s boss might also be with them. Kat’s boss. My terrible ex, who had broken my heart and wrecked my exam chances in sixth form. A small fact Kat knew nothing about.

  Kat greeted me with a hug and danced me over to her colleagues when I arrived, then to the bar where she ordered me a tequila shot and a martini.

  ‘Never one for half measures, our Zoe,’ came a voice behind me as I hovered at the bar.

  I heard those familiar Californian honey tones and turned around and saw him there. Chuck: his face older, a little looser, his hair salt-and-peppered around the hairline, his body tight, unruffled as ever. I felt a hard knot form in my gut. Here he was, after all these years.

  ‘Chuck.’

  Kat grinned at us. ‘You two know each other!’

  ‘No, Kat, just a lucky guess,’ I said, trying to smile at her, trying not to taste the bile in my mouth.

  ‘I guess I knew Zoe when you would have been just a little thing,’ he said, and I thought, I was just a little thing too, you son of a bitch. ‘Who would have guessed you two were sisters?’

  ‘Kat, would you mind just checking if Liz is here yet, please? I’m worried she won’t find the bar.’ I felt Kat’s questioning eyes on me, but she did as I asked – for possibly the first time ever – and I turned to face Chuck again.

  ‘You look great, Zo. I can’t believe you’re here! I never expected to see you again.’ He smiled, easily. ‘I knew Kat was bringing her sister tonight, and I have to admit,’ he said, leaning in, ‘I kind of hoped it would be you.’

  I wasn’t sure if I could trust myself to speak. I felt sick. But before I could get any words out of my mouth, he kept talking. He always did like to speak over me.

  ‘Listen, Zo, it’s really great to see you – I mean, I never got to say goodbye, properly. We were young, and neither of us behaved as well as we might have done—’

  I felt my mouth fall open.

  ‘And I’ve always really regretted not being able to just, you know, clear everything up between us. But I wanted to say …’ He turned to pick up my tequila shot. ‘Water under the bridge? Peace between us? We’re both adults, and it would be good for my spirit – for both of our spirits – if we can make this ok between us. Ok?’ He clinked the shot glass against my martini glass. ‘Cheers?’

  I lifted the martini to my lips, taking a sip I couldn’t taste. ‘Cheers,’ I said between clenched teeth. In answer, he knocked back the shot, slamming the empty glass back down on the bar.

  ‘Oh, that feels good. Doesn’t it feel good? Oh man!’ He held out his arms and stepped closer, wrapping them around me. ‘Doesn’t that feel better?’ he murmured in my ear, holding me to him before I had a chance to get away. I didn’t know if I had the strength to push him off me.

  ‘What the fuck is this shit?’ I heard someone say, and took the opportunity to gratefully wriggle away, feeling dizzy. Liz was standing beside me, staring at Chuck.

  Kat was looking between us all. ‘Liz,’ she said. ‘This is my boss, Chuck.’

  ‘Oh, I’m fully aware of Upchuck, thanks. And he’s your boss? How did you swindle that then, laddo?’ she asked, eyeballing him.

  Chuck smiled at Liz, and put an arm back around my shoulders. ‘Zoe and I were having a great chat, but I think I’d better check the rest of my team are having a good time, too. Excuse me, Liz, Kat.’ He nodded at me. ‘Zoe.’

  We watched him strut to the other end of the bar, where the rest of the staff greeted him with whoops and cheers.

  ‘Fucking hell, you two. What was that?’ Kat looked furious.

  ‘Liz’s ex,’ I said, before she had a chance to say anything. ‘Sixth-form college.’

  ‘He seems a bit old to have done A Levels with you lot?’ Kat said.

  Liz looked at me. ‘Oh no, he wasn’t at college with us. He’d just be in a lot of places we were, picking off vulnerable women. Our pubs, our bars, our parties, he’d be there.’

  Kat was watching Chuck again now. ‘And that’s where you met him, Liz?’

  Liz lifted her eyebrows at me, questioning. ‘Yeah? Yeah, something like that.’

  Kat seemed to make a decision, and snapped her attention back to us. ‘Right. Good. Now that the agency Amex is behind the bar, let’s work our way through this cocktail list.’

  I stayed for two more drinks, at Kat’s insistence, and those drinks made me feel slightly – slightly – better. Maybe I didn’t have anything to worry about, I reassured myself on the way home. It had been over a decade and we’d all made mistakes. It was clear that Chuck wanted the whole thing between us to be, as he’d said, water under the bridge; we’d both been young and stupid, although I’d been ten whole years younger than him. It was fine, he was Kat’s boss, there was nothing to worry about there, they were just co-workers and it was fine, it was fine, I was fine, Kat was fine, Chuck was fine, Jack, fast asleep and snoring, was fiiiiiiine – it was all going to be fine.

  All I needed was to lie down for one second on the nice cool kitchen floor, then I could clear my head and work out just how fine everything really was.

  The next day, after long hours spent in classrooms with the volume dialled up to eleven and with nasty sweats breaking out all over my body, I arrived home clutching a hot box of comfort pizza, liberally scattered with jalapeños. I drizzled honey over the pizza, sat down in front of the TV, and started eating.

  Jack came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. I was torn between relief at seeing him and a strange new awkwardness at his semi-nakedn
ess so soon after our discussion of my possible move. That stupid, pointless discussion.

  ‘Hey,’ I said, wanting to make the first move.

  ‘Hey.’

  Jack sat down, keeping a good two feet of distance between us. ‘I’m sorry about last week,’ he said. ‘I’ve been thinking about it, lots, and I think you’re right. I didn’t love the idea – at first – but maybe it is what we need. We can let this place, and I’ll find a studio or something, nearer to work, maybe. Anyway.’ He coughed. ‘I just wanted to say that I think you were right. I’ll support your move, if that’s what you want.’

  I chewed my pizza, now tasting like wet cardboard in my mouth.

  ‘What do you think?’ he prompted.

  ‘It’s not happening,’ I mumbled.

  He reached for a slice. ‘Because of how I was when you told me?’

  ‘No.’ I swallowed. ‘For “strategic reasons” they’ve decided to cancel any intra-school moves.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yup.’ I picked up another slice, folded it in half, then in quarters, and pushed the whole thing into my mouth.

  ‘No transfers then?’

  I gave him a thumbs up, cheeks bulging.

  ‘You’re staying here.’

  I gave him a double thumbs up.

  ‘That’s … that’s good. That’s fine.’ He spoke with careful ambivalence.

  I opened a two-litre bottle of cherry Coke to stall for a moment, and glugged a third of it down. Sober, in the cold light of day, I no longer felt so reassured about trusting Chuck as Kat’s boss, but didn’t think I could talk to Jack about it right now. When my mouth was clear, I said, ‘You sound like I feel.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Well, you don’t sound delighted that I’m staying, and if we’re really honest about it, I wanted to go just as much as you wanted me to,’ I said drily.

  ‘Hang on – I was in the wrong for not wanting you to go the other day, and now I’m in the wrong for wanting you to go?’

  ‘Thanks very much for that.’

  ‘No – not – not wanting you to go – I just want to support you. In what you want to do. I thought that would be the right thing.’

  ‘No, you didn’t. You realised how nice it would be if we weren’t fucking arguing every single day of our lives,’ I snapped. ‘But don’t worry, because I feel the same.’

  ‘Oh god! Well, wouldn’t it be nice? It would be fantastic to come home after a hard day at work and not be told off for something I’ve done in the privacy of my own home.’ Jack slouched against the back of the sofa, towel flapping open.

  ‘Not done! You haven’t done my laundry! Don’t make it sound like I’m persecuting you for your personal proclivities! I just want you to occasionally act like I’m not some troublesome elderly housemate!’

  ‘It’s JUST. LAUNDRY.’

  ‘It’s not just laundry! It’s the philosophy behind it!’

  Jack tried to laugh. ‘The philosophy of laundry?’

  ‘It’s the feeling that you don’t consider me. You never really think about what I want, Jack. Fine, you upsize meals you’d otherwise make for yourself, but you don’t actually consider me. You finish the toothpaste and neither get more nor tell me it’s finished. You use up my shampoo and my face wash, the same. You’ll put my almond oil on your beard. You’ll use my wrapping paper, my birthday card stash, my stamps—’

  ‘Stamps, Zo, come on—’

  ‘And I came to the shop once and you had my vase in the window!’

  ‘You weren’t using it! It’s a compliment to your good taste. And we’re married now. We’re meant to share stuff.’

  ‘You’re happy to have me as your stationery and beauty product cupboard, but I ask you to just fill a load in the washing machine, with my socks and t-shirts and dresses, and suddenly I’m asking you to give up a kidney? I know these are just little things you take, but you’re happy to share only when I’m doing the sharing. I ask you to actually do stuff for me, and I’m being ridiculous, somehow!’

  Jack scratched his beard. ‘You’re not perfect either, you know.’

  ‘I know I’m not!’ For a flash of a second, I thought, I don’t care about shampoo and birthday cards. What is this really about, think, think, find the words before it’s too late. But nothing came. ‘I’m not perfect, Jack, but this combination of our imperfections just …’

  ‘What? It’s what?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s working.’ My mouth was speaking but I had no control over it. I picked up another slice of pizza, but this time just picked at it in the long silence that hung over us, pulling off the jalapeños, scraping off the cheese, then rolling the whole thing up into a dough ball and dropping it back in the box.

  Jack watched the pizza box. ‘So what does that mean?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t like feeling like this, Jack, but what am I supposed to do? Just pretend that I don’t?’

  ‘Yes!’ Jack cried. ‘No one’s life is perfect! Everyone struggles sometimes! But you can’t just run away the second you don’t feel ecstatically happy!’

  ‘But we were happy before! What’s so wrong with wanting that? Instead of … this! We were happy! You were the one who wanted to get married.’ I screwed my face up, and sighed. ‘Jack. I think if I can’t go to Manchester, maybe it’s a sign that we need to think about some time apart. Maybe even …’ I watched Jack brace himself as my mouth kept talking, utterly unresponsive to any screaming commands my brain might be making to try and shut this line down. ‘Divorce.’

  Clang. The seven-tonne word was now in our home, invited by me, and it sat on top of us, slowly squeezing the life from our bodies.

  Jack finally spoke. ‘Oh my god, I thought you’d been joking about feeling that way at the wedding. Are you serious? It’s been two months, Zo! I thought we’d been through all this. You can’t just throw that word around when you’ve had a shitty day.’

  I felt in surer waters now. I’d had variations on this conversation with myself every day of those two months, and now we were talking about it, I felt more certain than ever. The relief I already felt was palpable.

  ‘It’s just not for us, Jack. Marriage. It’s not worked. And I think it’s better, for both of us, if we can walk away from this in one piece, not letting it drag on for decades. You’re still young enough to find someone else.’

  ‘What the fuck, Zo?’ Too late, I realised I’d gone too far.

  ‘Sorry, I don’t mean that. Shit.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I just mean … Can we both just think about this, for a couple of days? If it’s easier, I’ll go and stay at Ava’s. Give you some space to consider it all.’

  ‘Do I have a choice?’

  ‘I’ll stay if you want.’ I didn’t know if I meant that or not, but Jack just turned back to the pizza box.

  ‘No, you go. It’s fine. I guess I’ll see you in a few days then.’

  I packed a bag as quickly as I could, throwing in toiletries and a couple of outfits, then headed back through the lounge to the front door. I didn’t know how to say goodbye to Jack now, what strange limbo I’d put us in by uttering the D-word.

  ‘Zoe.’ Jack was still on the sofa, next to the box of my shredded, deconstructed takeaway. ‘I’m sorry about your pizza.’

  I tried to smile. ‘Right. See you later, then?’

  I started to go, but Jack said again, ‘Zoe.’ When I turned back, he looked grey, sitting hunched in only a fraying, too-short towel. ‘What’s happened? Seriously, what’s happened here?’

  I wanted to wrap my arms around him and say it would all be ok, and sit curled up with him again, one blanket warming us both, but I couldn’t. Something was stopping me.

  ‘I don’t know. But I’ll see you in a few days.’ I pulled my bag over my shoulder, and left without looking at him again.

  TEN

  Six years earlier

  ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

  ‘I’m sure.’

&nb
sp; ‘And you remember the safe word?’

  ‘Yellow bus.’

  ‘And the second you use it, we stop the whole thing. Ok?’

  ‘Ok.’

  ‘I really like you, and I don’t want you to do this if you’re not ready.’

  ‘We’ve talked about this.’

  ‘I know. But it’s really important we only do this when you’re totally and completely ready. We’ve only been together a year.’

  ‘I’m ready! I’m ready.’

  She kissed Jack. ‘Ok. Thanks again for this.’

  Zoe reached up and pressed the doorbell. Before the bell had even stopped ringing, the door was yanked open and Zoe’s three sisters stood in the doorway, screaming and hugging Jack and Zoe and pulling them both inside.

  Magically their coats were off, their shoes taken, and they were propelled into the kitchen, where Zoe’s mum and dad were waiting with heroic patience and, frankly, saintly casualness, Dad stirring the gravy, Mum wiping some imaginary spill from the counter top, the radio off for the first time in Zoe’s entire recollection. Only when Zoe said ‘Hellooo’ did they turn, with exaggerated surprise and hug both Zoe and Jack.

  ‘My darlings! When did you get here?’ asked Zoe’s mum, although Zoe knew the silence of the kitchen was because her mum would have been worrying about missing the doorbell.

  ‘Just now, Mum – look, my face is still cold from outside.’

  Her mum pressed her hands against Zoe’s cheeks. ‘Zoe! You will make yourself ill if you let yourself get so cold. You must wear a coat in this weather.’

  Zoe was laughing. ‘Mum! I was wearing a coat but Ava just took it. And I’m not going to start wearing a balaclava, despite your best efforts to convince us they were cool when we were little.’

  Her dad laughed too. ‘Well, it’s lovely to see you both. Lovely to meet you at long last, Jack.’

  Her mum nodded her delighted agreement.

  ‘Mrs Lewis. Mr Lewis. It’s really kind of you to have me here.’

  ‘No, no!’ Zoe’s mum cried. ‘I am Chidinma, and this is Philip.’

  Jack smiled, pleased, but too shy to say their names yet.