I put on the radio and checked the sat nav: ETA 15.35.
I glanced in the rear-view mirror and reached for my phone.
On my way back. Missed you. Movie and takeaway tonight?
Mia’s reply was instant.
Missed you too ♥ ♥ Sounds fab, see you later.
I smiled. Perhaps I had stumbled upon the key to a happy marriage.
‘I can’t believe you enjoyed that,’ Mia said between mouthfuls. It still surprised me how much she could pack away in her tiny body. ‘Nothing happened in the entire film.’
‘What do you mean nothing happened? There was all this stuff going on under the surface.’ I leaned over and grabbed the last slice of pizza from the box that was sitting on her stomach.
‘Mmmm,’ she said, ‘yeah, but I just kept waiting for all that under-the-surface stuff to explode, you know? I mean Sofia Coppola’s great but in this movie, basically, they both went to Tokyo, ran into each other, had a few drinks, a few laughs and then flew back home. I mean, come on, give me something! Real life is not like that.’
I laughed.
‘Seriously? Real life is exactly like that. And you’re one to talk, you keep everything hidden away. Now,’ I said, lifting Mia’s legs off my lap and getting up, ‘I think we need some ice cream.’
I checked my phone on the way to the kitchen. I always kept it on silent these days.
‘Chocolate chip or coffee?’ I called out.
There was one missed call. I dialled back.
‘Chocolate,’ Mia yelled back.
‘Hi,’ I whispered into the phone.
‘Hey.’
‘I’m at home. Is it important?’
‘Well, depends how you look at it.’
‘Ems, what is it?’ I tried again. ‘You know I can’t talk at home.’
I pulled out two bowls and spoons.
‘I was just thinking about you,’ she whined.
‘Oh. Yes, me too. Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll text you tomorrow, okay?’ I shot back, hanging up before she had a chance to say anything. Perhaps it was time to get a second phone.
I pulled out the ice cream tubs and scooped some chocolate ice cream into two bowls, adding a scoop of coffee as well to mine. I could never pick.
MIA
Thursday, 22nd October
‘So I really think once Addi chips in, we’ll be able to buy my mum out. I mean, I need to speak to her obviously, but Addi’s going to be as upset about this as I am. She’ll want to save the house.’
‘You sound very confident,’ Natalie said.
‘I’ve spent all morning at the bank, it’s looking good.’
‘Right. And that’s great. I just want to make sure you aren’t relying too heavily on anyone, even your sister.’
‘I’m not. And anyway, this is a non-issue,’ I said, eager to change the subject. Natalie could be quite a buzzkill sometimes. ‘You said there was something you wanted to discuss?’
‘Yes, I had a call from James the other day,’ Natalie said. ‘I understand that he and your sister are moving back?’
‘Yeah, they arrived last week.’
‘Ah.’
‘What?’
‘I’m just curious as to how involved you see them being in your life going forward?’ She paused. ‘Specifically in relation to our work here?’
‘Why?’
Natalie flinched, but then continued after a minute. ‘James raised a few concerns about my approach, which are all valid from his point of view, of course. But this is the kind of thing I was concerned about when you first came to see me. As your therapist, it would be unethical if I let anyone influence your treatment plan without checking with you first.’
‘It was about Bristol, wasn’t it? This isn’t James. It’s my sister getting protective about me. I’ll speak to her.’
‘Mia, that’s not what I’m saying. Of course your sister will worry about you. And considering how long James and I have known each other, it’s perfectly natural for him to reach out. My primary concern here is you. How do you feel about your sessions with me?’
‘We’ve been over this, I’ve never felt this comfortable with a therapist before.’
‘And your trip to Bristol?’
‘It was fine! I mean, I was upset, and sad, but then I was going to be. We’ve been working towards this for years now, and we both agreed that I was as ready as I was ever going to be, right?’ I looked towards Natalie and she nodded. ‘Addi’s just . . .’ I sighed. ‘You have to understand, before I came to you . . . Addi’s seen me at my lowest, and she’s seen me struggle, for years, so she worries about anything that might tip me over the edge.’
‘Of course.’
‘She thought my going to Bristol by myself was a bad idea, she must have told James, and so James called you. It’s my fault. I should never have told her.’
‘No one’s blaming you, Mia.’
‘No, I know.’
‘I only wanted to discuss this so that you and I could come to an agreement about how to proceed. You know it’s typical practice to review treatment plans from time to time. Would you feel more comfortable with another therapist? Someone who isn’t connected to your family at all, perhaps?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘With all due respect, Natalie, I think you’re overreacting here. I’m fine, I’m happy with my progress, I don’t think going to Bristol was a mistake, and I’d like you to carry on being my therapist. Now, can we just move on, please?’
ROY
Friday, 23rd October
‘What are you doing?’ I woke up wincing. Mia was right next to me, her face inches from mine. I flipped onto my side and pulled the duvet up to my chin. ‘Did you just bite – Ow! Mia!’
‘Happy Birthday,’ she whispered, before bursting into giggles and slipping out of bed.
Mia was in the kitchen making coffee when I went downstairs. She handed me a cup, leaned back against the counter and then looked me up and down. Very dramatic.
‘Thirty-one. That’s it, you’re officially old now.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Whatever,’ I said, unconvincingly.
We were both playing familiar roles, but something was amiss. I could see that Mia sensed it too. She turned around and started moving things – all my favourite dishes – from the hob to the table and I sat down. I didn’t know when it had started, or how, but Mia had been taking the day off for my birthday for years. It seemed we were sticking with tradition this year as well.
‘So tonight, do you want to go to that place in Forest Hill?’
‘Could do,’ I said, scrolling through my phone to look at the couple of texts and Facebook messages that had come in since earlier that morning. I’d spent the bulk of the last hour on the phone – my parents, James, Addi and Mia’s mum – and Mia had inserted herself in all the conversations save for the last, when she suddenly remembered she had to send some urgent emails for work, and I ended up making excuses for her. Mia loved to analyze my relationship with my parents, but she refused to see what she was doing to her own. Ironic, considering her mother was actually nice.
‘Roy,’ Mia said, when I looked up. ‘Living room.’
MIA
Friday, 23rd October
I stood in the doorway and let Roy pass, barely able to contain my excitement.
I watched as he scanned the room, his eyes finally resting on the gift-wrapped box on the coffee table. He turned to smile at me, then knelt down on the floor and ripped it open.
Roy went through each item with the requisite exclamations – the binoculars, the sun visor, the rolls of film – until he got to the bottom of the box and found the plain white envelope with his name on it.
‘What’s this then?’
I shrugged. ‘Open it.’
He gave me a strange look, and then opened the envelope slowly, almost as if he was scared to see what was inside.
I watched his face run through an entire symphony of emotions as he flicked through the papers, reading eve
rything twice.
‘Mia, is this for real?’
‘Of course it is. Do you like it?’
I had printed off an itinerary for a trip across Namibia. I’d been working on it for months now, researching, costing, organizing. Starting at Windhoek, we’d travel through the Namib Desert and the Etosha salt pan, spend a night at the Mowani Mountain Camp in Twyfelfontein, fly over the Skeleton Coast, visit the Cheetah Conservation Camp and then drive through the Sossusvlei dunes. Everything was booked and paid for, so Roy could just enjoy himself. He had been obsessing over Namibia for years.
He walked over and grabbed me for a kiss. ‘I love it. When am I going?’
I tried not to flinch. He didn’t mean it like that. I know he didn’t.
‘June, next year. It’s the only time I can take three weeks off,’ I said cautiously.
His smile wavered for a fraction of a second as he took this in.
‘Amazing,’ he said, giving me a peck before letting go. ‘Thank you.’
ROY
Tuesday, 27th October
‘So where are we going?’ Emily asked, wriggling into her jeans.
‘I can drop you off at the tube station,’ I said, twisting to put on my seat belt just as her hand found its way back on my knee.
‘Or we could get some dinner? I’m starving after all that, and maybe if I had some more energy . . .’
I turned to face her. The top three buttons of her shirt were still undone, her bright pink lace bra peeking out. Irresistible. I forced my eyes up to her face. Young and earnest. The stab of guilt took me by surprise.
‘I can’t, sorry.’ I lifted her hand and placed it on her leg. ‘Edgware or Mill Hill?’
It was just gone five when I got back to the house, but I found myself looking up as I parked to see if Mia was back. The darkened kitchen window told me she wasn’t. Mia and I had disagreed on this since the day we moved in together: she would go into the kitchen as soon as she got home, turn on all the lights and put the kettle on – even though most of the time she’d go straight up to the bedroom, leaving the lights on and the kettle boiling. She found it comforting. I found it wasteful. For some strange reason, thinking about it brought a smile to my face. I let myself in, switched on the lights, and then put the kettle on.
I had barely taken off my coat when my phone beeped. It was Emily. Already. She wanted to know if we could meet again the next day. Even though I had nothing else on, I said no.
I put my phone away and started clearing a week’s worth of clutter from the coffee table – crumpled-up tissues, a half-eaten chocolate bar, bad magazines, an old newspaper. I’d spent the afternoon at the National Gallery and couldn’t resist picking up the new National Geographic Journeys of a Lifetime book. I pulled it out of the carrier bag and set it down on the newly tidy coffee table. I went back into the kitchen with the rubbish, and instead of sticking everything in the same bin – another thing Mia and I disagreed about – I surprised myself by splitting it into what was recyclable and what wasn’t.
I decided to take it one step further and took the bins out, then went for a run. I was on a roll.
On Monday, 02 November at 06.23 p.m.,
Emily Barnett
here’s a link to the song I was telling you about the other day. listen to it, think of me, show me how it made you feel the next time we meet.
show me.
E xxx
On Wednesday, 04 November at 02.07 a.m.,
Emily Barnett
haven’t heard from you and wondering if everything is ok? my friend Ali is doing the pr for a new club in soho. it’s opening on friday and she’s put a bunch of us on the guest list. i know you said no weekends, but can you sneak away? for me?
i miss you. can’t wait to see you xxx
On Thursday, 05 November at 11.32 p.m.,
Emily Barnett
hellooo???
On Friday, 06 November at 10.32 a.m.,
Roy Kapoor
Emily, sorry I haven’t been in touch, there’s quite a lot going on right now and I’ve been busy. Enjoy the gig tonight. I’ll call you when I can.
Roy
MIA
Monday, 9th November
The temperature turned on us overnight, the long summer drowned out by a bitter chill as November rolled in. I felt a shiver run through me as I waited for Natalie to return to the room.
‘There you go,’ she said a few minutes later, handing me a mug of peppermint tea.
‘Thanks.’
‘Where were we?’ she asked, reclaiming her spot opposite me.
I held the mug with both hands, letting the steam cloud my face as I sipped. I put the tea on the table next to me and looked at Natalie.
‘I had that dream again, the one about drowning.’
‘Okay.’
‘I feel like I want to ask him. Just put it out there, you know. And every day I decide I will. But . . .’ I trailed off.
‘But you don’t?’
‘No.’
‘Why is that?’
‘I don’t know. I guess I’m scared of what he might say.’
‘Hmm.’
‘It just doesn’t make sense,’ I burst out.
‘What doesn’t make sense?’
‘Why I’m so anxious now . . . Everything’s better. Roy and I are in a good place again. Addi’s back. Work’s great. I’ve got a plan for the house. Everything is fine. But I’m – I’m not.’ I sighed. ‘Do you remember when I called you from India, a few months ago? Everything was falling apart but I managed to hold it all together. So why can’t I do that now?’
‘Well, maybe you’re just tired,’ Natalie theorized. ‘Like you said, you have been holding everything together. That can be exhausting.’
‘Yeah, maybe.’
I picked up my tea and took a small sip. Better.
‘Can we go back to your sister’s wedding for a minute?’
‘Why?’
‘Well, for one, you’ve been avoiding speaking about that night.’
‘No, I haven’t. I told you everything.’
‘You told me what you found out, not how you found out or how you felt about it.’
‘I don’t see how that’s relevant.’
‘Trust me, it helps. Just talk me through it, when you’re ready,’ Natalie encouraged.
I nodded, allowing the memory of that night to resurface, clawing its way into my brain.
‘After Addi’s vidaai, and the argument with Mum, we went back to our suite. Roy kept trying to talk to me, explain, but I didn’t want to hear it. The fact that Mum was selling the house was bad enough, but for Roy to have kept it from me. It was all too much. I just needed some time to, I don’t know, process?’
Natalie nodded and I carried on.
‘We were arguing, and I think I . . . maybe I pushed him too far. Roy said he had to go and give Emily some money. For a cab. I wanted him to stay with me. I just wanted to . . . um . . . just get in bed, sleep it off, you know?’ I paused, steadied myself. A familiar ache filled my chest. ‘But I was so angry, I didn’t say anything. He left and I went to bed alone. He was gone maybe ten or fifteen minutes when his phone started ringing. He’d put it on charge in the living room when we got in and he must’ve forgotten to take it with him. It was past one a.m.; I thought if someone’s ringing this late, it must be urgent. So I got out of bed and went into the living room but by the time I got there, it had stopped ringing.’
Natalie leaned forward, frowning. She sometimes behaved like a talk show host, leaning forward now, reaching out to pat my arm then. I wished she wouldn’t. This wasn’t some primetime drama. This was my life.
‘I punched in Roy’s code to see who it was. Em –’ I stuttered. ‘It was Emily. She’d also sent him a message and I – I opened it. It was sickening. I felt like this – this desperate, prying wife. She’d texted to tell h
im the concierge had left for the night and signed it “Em, xxx”. Just reading that, I knew something had happened between them.’
I paused to steady my voice, carrying on after a minute. ‘I scrolled up and there it was: Roy’s text to her, from that morning. He’d kissed her. While I was fending off his mother, my husband had been kissing an overconfident, entitled, stupid little sl –’ I cut myself off, telling myself that the insult was too shameful to utter aloud, that it was beneath me to judge her even if she deserved it.
I tried to focus on Natalie instead; she was leaning forward waiting for me to continue. I looked away, her scrutiny making me uncomfortable.
I couldn’t find the words to describe the quality of the pain I had felt when I had read those messages, but as I recounted the events of that night, it reappeared in a flash, choking me, the tears stinging my eyes. The dull ache from a few moments ago sharpened its focus, twisting itself into my chest, deeper and deeper, into something else entirely, something darker that seemed to paralyze me and bring me alive all at once.
Your Truth or Mine? Page 10
