Much Ado About Sweet Nothing

by Alison May

  I take the dirt devil into the kitchen and run it over the worktop again, just to be sure.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Trix

  When I get back to work I head straight for Danny’s office. That’s not true. When I get back to work I skulk around in the staff room for a bit and then stride around the library trying to look purposeful, whilst hoping to be able to ‘accidentally’ run into him. That way I won’t actually have to go to his office and look for him. I’m not sure exactly what I said to him after the wedding, but I have a definite recollection that it wasn’t good. He hasn’t really spoken to me since. And he should have spoken to me, because he said some things too. He should really have come and found me by now.

  I stick my head into the PA’s office. ‘Is he in?’

  ‘Yes. You can go right in.’

  Of course I can. I make it as far as his door, but can’t quite make my hand do the knocking. I’m justifiably angry, I’m sure. Definitely justifiable. If I only I could remember what he said, so I could be more precisely angry about it. And a little clearer about why he definitely shouldn’t be angry with me. Maybe I could view this as a dry run and come back for a proper go later.

  There’s a small cough behind me. I turn back to Danny’s PA. ‘Normally people knock at this stage.’

  Patronising cow. I’m working up to it, obviously. I knock too loudly, and too deliberately, on the door. Now she probably thinks I really didn’t know how to work the door. ‘Come in.’

  I walk in briskly, adopting my best strictly professional face, and put the note down on his desk. ‘Henri’s signed off. Three weeks.’

  He picks the note up. ‘How is she?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I’m not in the mood to have him acting the sympathetic friend. Whatever was or wasn’t said, I am sure that all of this is John’s fault. ‘She’s not in work. Let me know if you have a problem sorting out cover.’

  I start to walk out of the office. So far as I can tell there’s nothing more to say.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For believing John.’ I look at Danny properly. He’s impeccably turned out, as ever, but he does look tired.

  ‘So, you don’t believe him any more?’ Even I can hear the scepticism in my voice.

  ‘You haven’t heard?’

  Well, clearly not. I’m so out of the loop, I struggle with how doors work. ‘I’ve been a bit preoccupied.’

  And so he tells me. I’m guessing it’s only the summary version, because we’re at work and no alcohol has been consumed, but apparently after work on Friday, Danny and John and some of the City Council Cultural Services Department went to the pub, and Danny walked in on John propositioning a prominent city councillor in the gents’ toilet.

  ‘What about Claudio and Henri?’

  ‘He set it up. Apparently he asked Deano to drop flowers around to Henri, and he arranged for Claudio to meet him to make sure he saw them together.’

  ‘He told you?’

  ‘The basics. I put the rest together with Claudio and Ben.’

  ‘Claudio knows?’

  Danny nods. ‘I think he feels bad.’

  ‘Good. He should.’ However much he was set up, however much he was a victim too, Claudio just believed what John told him. I don’t feel forgiving towards him.

  ‘Are we OK?’

  I nod. It isn’t Danny’s fault. John probably did more damage to him than anyone else. ‘You’re OK?’

  ‘I will be.’

  ‘You look good.’

  ‘You know me. I bounce back.’

  I lean across the desk and rub his hand with mine. He takes hold of it. ‘There is one thing.’

  I don’t like the sound of this. ‘What?’

  ‘You and Ben.’

  ‘We’ve just made friends; don’t push it.’

  ‘He just seems a bit lost.’

  ‘I’m sure Ben’s fine.’ I really don’t want to get into this. Since the wedding that wasn’t I’ve been focusing all my energies on Henri, and trying to get her back to some sort of normality. ‘Seriously, don’t interfere in what you don’t understand.’

  ‘What if I think I do understand?’

  ‘You don’t.’ It’s intended to mark the end of the conversation. Cool and clear, and not inviting further discussion. To underline the point I stand up and step away from the desk.

  Danny sits back and doesn’t try to stop me. ‘I know you’re worried about Henri, but what about your own life?’

  I hold my index finger up towards him. It’s supposed to mean stop talking. Stop talking right now.

  Danny never was one for quitting while ahead though. ‘I’m just saying. I’ve known you both a long time. Apart, and together, and I just think …’

  I extend the rest of my fingers into the full-hand ‘stop’ sign, and arrange my features into my most severe ‘not-amused’ face. Danny raises his palms in submission, and I take the chance to make an exit.

  I’m not having Danny telling me how to arrange my love life. I think he’s proved himself to be supremely unqualified in that area. And anyway, we’re not even talking about my love life. Ben is not part of my love life. Ben is just some annoying guy I used to date, and with whom I had ill-advised one-time drunken sex. And a guy who winds me up so much that the police get called, and who’s physiologically incapable of admitting that he might be wrong. I storm back through the library trying to concentrate on how unbearably arrogant he is, and not thinking about how he’s also the guy who didn’t once mention me ending the night retching over the toilet bowl, and who got up early the next morning to get me painkillers and food and clean underwear.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Claudio

  It takes me three days to work up the courage to actually ring Henri’s doorbell. That’s three days since I found Danny in the kitchen announcing what I should have already known. I almost set out to see her straight away that second, but Ben wouldn’t let me. He said it was too late, and I should wait until the morning. Then in the morning, I decided to ring first but everytime I started I didn’t get as far as pressing ‘Call’. So then I decided I needed to prepare what I was going to say. I got as far as driving past her house yesterday morning. Yesterday evening I parked the car and got out, but didn’t make it as far as the door. So, it’s not like I haven’t been trying. To be honest, this is really a dry run. It’s one o’clock in the afternoon, so Henri’ll be at work.

  I’m going to do it for real this evening though. Definitely this evening. Then the door opens.

  Henrietta is wearing shorts and a vest top. Her hair is tied back. She looks knackered.

  ‘Hi.’

  We stand just looking at each other for a minute. I’ve been rehearsing in my head for days, and now I can’t think of anything to say. I’m just staring at her. Henri starts talking, which is a relief, because I would have just stared at her until we both got old.

  ‘Well, it’s nice to see you. You’d better come in. Sorry I’m such a mess. I’ve been cleaning the flat. I just thought it would be nice to have things nice, in case, well just to have things nice. Would you like anything? A drink maybe? It’s lunchtime, isn’t it? Would you like something to eat? I don’t know what I’ve got …’

  She continues the stream of consciousness through into the lounge. She’s sorry about the mess and the state of her. She looks fine. Her flat always looks fine. She’s worried that I might need feeding or drinking or making more comfortable. I refuse her insistent suggestions that I should sit down. This is good. Her nervousness is making me feel more and more in control. I reach my hand over to her and put my finger on her lips. She hesitates and stutters and then she’s quiet.

  ‘You look lovely.’ I look round the room. ‘There isn’t any mess.’

  I move my finger away and we’re quiet for a minute, before she starts talking. ‘I just, I’m not dressed properly. I didn’t know you were coming. Just cos I’m off work, so bit scruffy. So
rry.’

  I put my finger back over her lips. ‘Why aren’t you at work?’

  I take my finger away. ‘Oh, you know. Bit silly. Trix made me go to the doctors. I’ve been a little bit stressed, but I’m fine really. It’s nothing. People overreact. I’m fine.’

  I press my finger back over her lips. They feel soft against my hand, and I can feel the moisture from her mouth on my finger. I want to take my hand away and put my lips in its place. I know I’m supposed to say what I came to say first.

  She’s looking straight up at me, waiting to see what happens next. Her mouth is slightly open and I can feel her breathing. The talking can wait, I decide. I’ll explain myself later. I move my hand to the side of her face, and bring the other hand up to her other cheek. I bend down to kiss her, very softly letting my tongue part her lips a little more. I mean to just kiss her for a minute, and then tell her that I’m sorry, and explain that I was tricked, and beg her to tell me it’s not too late. But she starts to kiss me back. She stretches up on tip-toes and reaches her arm around my neck. I can’t stop myself, and I don’t want to stop myself.

  Henrietta

  He moves his hands down from my face and puts them round my middle, and then he lifts me up off the floor, and wraps his arms under my hips, tilting me so I can wrap my legs around his body, which I do. He carries me into the bedroom.

  Part of me can’t believe that he’s back, but part of me knew he’d come back. I just needed to make sure I was good enough to deserve him. This is exactly like we used to be. He came in and kissed me and now we’re going to bed together. I lift my arms up so that he can pull my vest off, and then he pulls his own T-shirt off over his head. He tugs at my shorts a bit, and I wriggle out of them, and lie down for him on the bed.

  As he buries his face in my shoulder I can see a spider’s web on the ceiling above him. That wasn’t there this morning. It’s another job the dustbuster is ideal for. I’m quite looking forward to zapping it. Apart from that one cobweb I think the flat is very nearly perfect, so my plan worked. I made everything perfect and Claudio came back. Now I just have to keep everything perfect so that he won’t go away again.

  He pushes into me and starts to move and I start to breathe more heavily so as not to discourage him. I bury my face hard into his shoulder, inhaling the scent of him, forcing it to fill my lungs. My fingers press into his back. His rhythm pounds into my body, and I try not to let any other thoughts come into this moment. I even let out a little ‘Oooh’ sound so that he’ll know that everything is going absolutely perfectly.

  Afterwards I lie very still and quiet resting my head on his chest. If I stay still and quiet I can’t upset him, can I? He starts talking.

  ‘So, I was thinking, maybe we could just have a quiet little wedding in Naples, rather than a big affair? Do you think that would be better?’

  I feel my insides lurch a little bit. So we’re still moving to Naples and getting married. I swallow the feeling. This is exactly what I was hoping for. He’s back. We’re together again. He still wants to get married. I’m still going to be Mrs Messina. It’s all actually happening just like I wanted it to. I really am waking up and discovering that the last few weeks have just been a terrible dream.

  ‘Ok.’

  He strokes my cheek with his thumb. ‘I’m sorry about the honeymoon. I’ll make it up to you.’

  ‘Ok.’ I haven’t even thought about the honeymoon to be honest. I’d completely forgotten we were supposed to have one. I guess Trix must have unpacked my suitcase while I was at Dad’s.

  ‘Where were we going to go?’ The honeymoon was supposed to be a surprise. Claudio planned the whole thing. He is a lot cleverer than me about holidays and where to go at what time of year and stuff. It made sense to leave it to him.

  ‘Tenerife. Some of the guys from Sorrento last season are repping out there. It would have been cool to catch up.’

  ‘I’m sure it would have been nice.’

  ‘I’ll take you there, one day, I promise.’ He sighs. I hope that the subject of the last few weeks won’t come up again. It does feel like a bad dream that we can just gloss over. Talking about it just makes it seem closer and more real. ‘What about the wedding presents?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Did they get sent back?’

  I just don’t want to think about these sorts of details. ‘I’m not sure. I think Dad or Trix must have sorted it out.’

  ‘We should find out. I think really if we get married soon we should be allowed to keep them, don’t you think?’

  ‘If you like.’

  He moves so that he’s pulled up on one shoulder looking down at me. ‘Sorry. I’m going on, aren’t I?’ He grins. ‘Shall we do something more interesting instead?’

  I don’t object so he kisses me again passionately and warmly. I kiss him back and try to just think about making it a perfect kiss.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Henrietta

  Twenty years earlier

  I try to pick up the telephone like I’ve seen Mummy do, but it’s on the shelf so I have to climb on the chair to reach it.

  ‘Hello.’ I think Mummy says a number when she answers the phone too. ‘Three.’

  ‘Hello, darling.’ It’s Daddy. ‘Is Mummy there?’

  ‘Daddy!’

  ‘Can I talk to Mummy please?’

  I think about it for a minute. I don’t think the phone will reach to where Mummy is. ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  I don’t say anything.

  ‘Give the phone to Mummy, darling.’

  ‘S’asleep.’

  ‘Asleep?’

  Daddy’s talking louder now. I don’t like it. I don’t like Mummy being so still. I don’t like the way her pretty dress is getting all crumpled on the floor. I let out a big sob.

  ‘Is Mummy asleep?’

  Daddy sounds cross now. Another sob.

  ‘Henrietta. This is important. Can you wake Mummy up for me?’

  I don’t know what to do. I know that if someone is sleeping I’m supposed to be a quiet girl. ‘Sleeping. Shhhhh …’

  ‘Henrietta listen to Daddy. Where’s Mummy?’

  I don’t understand. ‘Sleeping.’

  ‘Where is she? Is she in bed?’

  ‘No.’ The sobbing has stopped now. Mummy looks funny. ‘Funny. On floor.’

  ‘Henrietta. Listen very carefully. I want you to try to wake Mummy up. Can you do that?’

  ‘Sleeping. Shhhh …’

  ‘No. I want you to shout as loud as you can, like it’s a game, Henri. Shout and see if you can wake Mummy up.’

  I yell as loud as I can, but Mummy doesn’t move.

  ‘Is she waking up?’

  ‘Sleeping. Shhh …’

  ‘OK Henri. I want you to keep trying to wake Mummy up. I’m going to come home now though, so I’ll see you in a minute.’

  The phone makes a clicky noise, and then Daddy isn’t there any more. Mummy is lying very still on the floor. I sit down next to her and touch her with my fingertip, very gently like Daddy showed my with the baby goats at the farm park. She doesn’t move.

  There’s tea spilled on the carpet next to where she’s lying. Mummy doesn’t like mess. I get my little plastic broom out of the toy cupboard and start sweeping the tea. It doesn’t really work. The tea just gets more spread out.

  Then Daddy comes back, and everything gets very busy. Other men come and kneel next to Mummy and then they and Daddy take her away in a special car called amamulance and I have to go and sit with Mrs Jackson over the road.

  I sit at Mrs Jackson’s house for ages. We eat cheese on toast and watch some of her programmes. Mrs Jackson always lets me watch her programmes when she looks after me. Daddy doesn’t like me watching too much telly. Mrs Jackson’s programmes are all about grown-ups shouting. I don’t really understand them.

  I fall asleep in the chair at Mrs Jackson’s house and when Daddy comes to get me it’s very late and someone has put a
blanket over me.

  ‘Where’s Mummy?’

  ‘Mummy’s not coming home any more.’

  I start a really big cry, and can’t make the words for a minute. ‘Is Mummy cross with me?’

  Daddy doesn’t answer. He looks tired and sad. I couldn’t wake Mummy up. I couldn’t clean up the tea. I’ve made her so cross she doesn’t ever want to come back.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Trix

  I hate Henri being off work. It leaves me with mountains of extra stuff to do, most notably the stupid art competition. I made, what I thought, was a very impressive argument in favour of cancelling the whole thing, but apparently it’s far too late for that. People are already working on their entries, and it’s been in the paper, and Ben is coming in to judge.

  That means that three afternoons a week are now taken up supervising Henri’s after school art clubs so that the kids can finish their entries for the competition. Some of them have actually put a lot of work into it; if I wasn’t resenting being there so much I’d be impressed. There’ll be others that turn up with an entry on the day, which will split into two categories. Firstly there’ll be the ones who’ve thrown some black paint at a piece of paper the night before; and secondly there’ll be the ones with perfect displays that were clearly constructed over days and days of non-stop work by their parents (or possibly by their au pairs – it is a tad middle class around here).

  The problem at the moment with having to supervise the project work during Art Club, is that the kids keep asking me questions about what they’re doing. I have eleven-year-olds trying to build infinity, and asking for my guidance on how to go about it. I’m rapidly growing to hate geeks, and I already hate looking stupid in front of schoolchildren. Hence the need to actually read Ben’s book, thus breaching my no-thinking-about-Ben rule. This is a shame. It was a good rule.

  Chapter 3: Beyond the physical: Zero comes of age

  The third great leap in Zero’s evolution was a long time coming. First it was merely a placeholder. Second it was a number in its own right, allowing us to state with confidence that ‘there is nothing here.’ Third, and most revolutionary of all, it became a trigger that fired the human imagination off into strange new directions.