by Nina Manning
‘Thanks for meeting me,’ Mason said. ‘How are you?’ He asked with the sort of sincerity I haven’t heard in a long time, but I still avoided what he was really asking.
‘I’m good, thanks. I’m loving the job—’
‘I mean, how are you?’ Mason said quietly but with a small amount of authority.
‘I’m…’ I twisted my wedding ring back to the centre of my finger. ‘I’m okay.’
Mason adjusted his cutlery. He bobbed his head slowly from side to side and lifted his palms upwards. ‘We all say we’re fine, even when we’re not. Why is that?’
The waiter arrived back and placed the whisky next to Mason, then swiftly opened the water bottle and poured it into two glasses. He placed the bottle down and left. I could sense Mason didn’t want the momentum to waver.
‘You’re an enigma. There’s something else you don’t let out. I’m intrigued.’ Mason sipped his whisky, the ice cubes clinked clumsily together as he set the large tumbler back on the table, half the contents gone. ‘You intrigue me, Frankie Keegan,’ he said again, and laughed so I felt I could finally smile back.
‘So, what is it about you, Frankie, that intrigues me so? I can’t put my finger on it,’ Mason said.
‘I didn’t realise I gave off such a mysterious aura,’ I scoffed.
‘It’s not so much mysterious. I don’t know…’ Mason shook his head and looked at me, his hand placed slightly over his mouth as he leant his elbow on the table.
His look lingered for another beat, then he cleared his throat and quickly picked up the menu.
I gazed at the menu. I could feel my heart thumping against my chest. I let my eyes cascade downwards.
‘I think the chicken terrine looks good,’ I said, trying to control my voice. ‘And the seabass with samphire and spinach beurre blanc.’
Mason kept his eyes on his menu but raised his eyebrows at the speed of my decision.
‘Great. Times two.’ He laid the menu on the table. ‘I’m going to trust you on this one.’
He leant back and did a nervous half stretch half yawn and I couldn’t help but smile and let out a small laugh.
‘What?’ Mason rubbed his chin and for a moment he looked coy and I felt a rush of all the feelings I had forgotten about that had been lying dormant for too many years.
‘Nothing. It’s just nice. To be here, I mean. This place is great. Do you come here a lot?’
‘Do I come here often?’ Mason laughed. ‘Now, there’s a chat up line you don’t hear any more.’ He took in a big breath. ‘I came here once last month with a friend.’
I felt myself almost deflate at the prospect of Mason with a friend who was at the moment in my mind absolutely female.
The waiter arrived to take our order and Mason accurately reeled off what I had suggested, along with a bottle of wine.
The lunch passed in a blur of wine with our food. When we finished Mason ordered coffees.
‘There’s a trip coming up.’ Mason said. ‘Belgium. Liège. I have a supplier friend over there. I didn’t expect to have to ask you so soon into starting the job but I’d really like you to come, to see how it all works.’ Mason looked at me. ‘And to see how drunk I can get you on the super strength beer.’ He laughed wholesomely. Then he shook his head. ‘I’m joking.’
I felt a tingle of excitement at the prospect of time away. ‘I’ve never been to Belgium.’
‘Oh, you’ll love it. The city is beautiful. We can do some sightseeing. There will be plenty of time for that as well as the meetings. Do you think your family could spare you for a couple of days?’
‘Are you sure I’m the one you want to take?’
‘You’re my product developer. And you understand the products so well already.’
An image of Damian flashed into my mind and then my body felt as though it were seizing up when I thought about all the unspoken words that had taken our relationship hostage. ‘Of course I can be spared. I would love to come.’
Mason’s eyes glistened as his whole face beamed a smile.
‘That’s great, Frankie. That’s really great.’
We talked of everything and nothing. Mason was careful not to tread too close to the edges of my personal life, testing the water occasionally with a broad question to see how much I was willing to reveal about myself.
At the end of the meal, he laid his visa card out on the plate after glancing at the bill and we walked the short distance back to the office together. My head felt a little woozy from the wine as I got back behind my desk. It was only then I realised that at no point had we discussed the new product.
17
Now
On Friday morning I padded downstairs and headed for the kitchen, and even through blurry morning eyes I could see there was a large blue envelope lying on the floor. I tentatively approached the mat and my mouth was suddenly filled with saliva, and I felt sick.
I picked up the envelope. My address was typed and not handwritten.
I went into the kitchen and laid it on the counter. It was still early; the kids wouldn’t be up for another hour. But I had woken to a noise, now I knew it had been the letter box. I inspected the envelope more closely. There was no post mark. It was far too early for the postman. It had been hand delivered.
I tore at the paper.
The words ‘Happy 40th Birthday’ were staring at me. It was a very simple design with just the words in blue on a white card. I looked inside.
‘Happy 40th Kiefer’ was scrawled in big black capital letters, almost childlike, but perhaps because someone was trying to disguise their handwriting. My hands were shaking as I clumsily stuffed the card back into the envelope and slid it behind a row of cookery books in the nook of the kitchen counter. I felt the anger rising in my chest, then suddenly tears were prickling in my eyes. I rubbed my fingers across my face to try to stop myself from crying but all I could see was Kiefer that night, the last time I saw him. I was so angry at the injustice of it all, yet I knew how much blame I carried with me daily. But I had my life and Kiefer had lost his. I couldn’t feel sorry for myself. Only for Kiefer, who would have been celebrating a landmark birthday today. We probably would have had a party. Everyone would have been there.
A few hours later, as I headed out of the front door and reached the gate, I heard Damian call after me.
‘Frankie,’ he said from the doorway.
I swung round.
‘I have a thing tonight, a meeting, so don’t be late back. Please.’ I eyed him, waiting for something along the lines of, ‘Sorry it’s Kiefer’s birthday today, sorry you can’t celebrate a milestone birthday with your big brother.’
‘Meeting thing?’
‘Yep.’ No hesitation. No further explanation.
‘Sure.’ I turned back and headed down towards the bridges which would lead me towards the centre of town. To a place and a distraction I needed more than anything.
As I walked past Mason’s office, I could see him standing talking on his mobile. He waved when he saw me and I waved back. I watched him for a second as I cruised past the window. He put one hand in his trouser pocket and looked down at his feet as he continued talking enthusiastically to whoever the person on the other end was. As though he felt my gaze he looked up and our eyes locked; I was about to look away when he gave me a lopsided smile and I flashed him another one back.
‘You look rather jolly to be in this early,’ Penelope said as she stood next to my desk. I realised I was still wearing the smile I had just given Mason, but it quickly faded. Penelope was in early. Even earlier than me it seemed. I had taken these working hours to spend extra time with my kids. There was no need for Penelope to be here. Was this now her fight for the best employee award by trying to compete with me?
‘Penelope.’ I greeted her with an edge to my voice as I sat down.
Was that alcohol I could smell? The sweet stale stench of a heavy night’s drinking seeping through her pores? I wrinkled my nose. She didn’t greet m
e back but gave me an absent smile and then seemed to glance for a second longer than necessary at the paraphernalia I had around my desk. Her stare seemed to linger longest on the photos of my kids.
I looked up towards the office entrance and I saw Mason walking past the open double doors. I paused for a heartbeat as I watched him, willing him to come through, but he carried on past. Penelope was now at her own desk opposite mine.
My phone beeped and my attention was then on my calendar reminder, which told me I was having drinks with Nancy tonight. Of course I was. I would have booked that in weeks ago as a distraction from Kiefer’s birthday.
I pressed the speed dial to Aimee’s number on my mobile.
As usual, Aimee picked up within three rings.
In less than thirty seconds I had arranged for her to sit the kids tonight so Damian could have his ‘thing’ and I could be far away from the house and get to have a drink or two with my friend.
An hour later, as the office filled up, Fish cruised past my desk.
‘Friday drinks tonight, Keegan?’ he said in a suave manner with a few flicks of his eyebrows.
I looked up apologetically.
‘I’m sorry, Fish. I have plans tonight.’
He pulled his mouth down and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Fair enough. More for the rest of us then!’ he said laughing as he walked away.
I looked back at my screen but all I could see in my mind’s eye was an image of Kiefer and what he might look like now at forty. My brother wasn’t here to celebrate, but I would be raising a glass to him tonight.
‘Darling.’ Nancy greeted me at her front door later that evening. ‘Now you’re a sight for sore eyes. Come and let out all your sorrow. This is a safe space.’ Nancy opened her arms and pulled me into a hug and all the day’s anxiety and stress was finally released as I fell into my best friend’s embrace.
Nancy took me straight through to the snug where I was greeted by the warmth of a log fire. There was some champagne in an ice bucket on the coffee table and a few small white ramekins filled with nibbles. I sank into the soft grey sofa and Nancy poured us a glass of the champagne.
‘Here’s to Kiefer.’ Nancy got straight to the reason for my visit and raised her glass. ‘I’m sorry Kiefer isn’t here to celebrate this day. I know he would have been really proud of you and what you have achieved these last few years. Damian is a great husband and father and your kids are gorgeous. Now you have your fantastic job with Mason Valentine and you have so much more to look forward to.’
I had been watching Nancy through watery eyes, trying not to break the seal and let the tears wash over my face. But suddenly my raw emotions hardened as I heard her praise Damian in that way. She knew how difficult things were between us at the moment and also how I constantly berated Damian for his lack of effort. Did she honestly see him in that way? I guessed that without children of her own Nancy would never truly be able to see things from my perspective or understand the enormity of trying to be a mother and hold down a full time job.
I picked up my glass and clinked it against hers.
‘Thanks, Nance,’ I whispered.
I arrived back from Nancy’s later that night. It was coming up for midnight and I felt a little guilty. Perhaps the guilt would have been greater had I not been fuelled by my share of two bottles of Nancy’s favourite champagne. I rooted in my handbag and cursed myself for forgetting my door key. I let out a loud sigh and navigated my way unsteadily through the darkness to the side gate and into the back garden. I realised I was more drunk than I had initially thought as I lost my balance pulling at the patio door, which to my relief was unlocked. I let myself in and clumsily kicked off my shoes.
The house was deadly quiet. The kitchen was spotless; I could see Aimee had cleared up. Damian couldn’t have been back as Aimee’s laptop was open on the kitchen island, but she wasn’t in the room. I paused for a moment to listen, it was so quiet I could hear blood pumping through my head as I swayed to the beat of my own heart. I edged closer to the laptop and I could see it was open on Facebook. I approached the screen and leant in closer. My eyesight was a little blurry from the night’s drinking, but I could see she had scrolled to a recent photo I posted just over a week ago of me and Damian in the restaurant celebrating my new job. I remembered that after a few drinks I had thrown my arm around him and asked the waiter to take a photo of us. Damian had a wry smile and my eyes were half closed.
I took a step back and realised that it wasn’t just my blurry eyesight but that the image was extra pixelated because Aimee had zoomed in on the photo.
I heard the toilet flush, so I stepped back and rushed to the fridge as Aimee arrived back into the kitchen.
‘Hey, Aimee.’ I popped my head round the fridge door as though I had been there the whole time.
‘Oh, Frankie, hi, I… didn’t know you were back. I didn’t hear the door?’ Aimee pulled her cardigan around herself and pushed her glasses up the ridge of her nose.
‘I forgot my key, popped in the back. Can I get you anything?’ I said as I rooted around unnecessarily. I felt embarrassed for Aimee for what I had seen. God knows I had zoomed in on enough photographs before.
She walked straight round to the laptop and casually flipped the lid shut.
‘Did you have a good night?’ she asked, and I heard an edge to her voice that I had never heard before. I reminded myself she was still only sixteen, full of hormones and curiosity.
‘It was just lovely, thanks, Aimee. How are the kids?’ I pulled out a bottle of sparkling water.
‘Pixie had a nightmare, but I don’t think she really did because she had only been asleep for about ten minutes, I just think she didn’t want to be alone. Which is perfectly normal, kids tend to not want to sleep alone at night and so will come up with all kinds of excuses. When we lived in caves children who were left alone were more likely to be eaten by a sabre-toothed tiger.’ Aimee was rambling.
I sat down at the island with the water and drank it straight from the bottle, not caring that I now probably appeared drunker than I thought I was. Aimee looked at me with slight disgust but again I couldn’t say if I was imagining it. I was pretty sure I was swaying. I wiped my mouth with my hand.
‘So you’re telling me my kids mess me about at night because they don’t want to be eaten by a sabre-toothed tiger?’
Aimee bit the side of her lip, pushed her glasses up her nose and shifted the weight on her foot. ‘Yes. Basically, if you believe in the evolutionary side of things.’
I nodded in agreement. ‘I had no idea, you are a fountain of knowledge. Are you enjoying studying psychology? All that studying of humans.’ I felt as though I no longer had any control over my own words, which were coming out a little slurred.
‘Er, yeah. I love it, actually. People are… fascinating.’
I looked at Aimee for second. ‘Yes, they are,’ I said.
I clumsily pulled a few notes out of my handbag and placed them between us. I shoved them towards Aimee.
‘Erm, thanks,’ she said when she realised there was more there than I would normally give her, but she was savvier than she looked and she quickly pocketed the cash and picked up her laptop and her shoulder bag.
‘Thanks, Frankie. I’ll see you later.’
‘Yes, Aimee, see you later.’
Aimee slipped out of the back door.
I looked at the time on the cooker and saw it had gone midnight. I felt a pang of guilt at staying out so late and leaving Aimee for so long. And, of course, tomorrow I would suffer. I stood up and walked through the house towards the lounge then I heard the familiar sound of Damian’s shoes walking up the path approaching the front door. I heard the jangling of his keys and the high tone of his voice as he greeted Aimee as she was leaving. I quickened my pace to get up the stairs so I didn’t have to see him.
I quickly used the loo, stripped down to my underwear and fell into bed. I didn’t bother taking my makeup off. I already knew I was going to feel hideo
us when I woke up, but at least it was the weekend. I still had another week to get through until the worst day of the year was upon me.
18
August 1998
It was Saturday, the first day of August and the heat of the summer showed no sign of relenting. I had worked six straight shifts in the hotel restaurant, and I was wiped out, but with a wad of cash in my back pocket. I was buzzing. I suddenly loved the feeling of earning money and I had started to toy with the idea of not going to college in September. I mentioned it in the kitchen when Kiefer had got back from working a night shift at the factory, smelling of oil and metal. He listened to me talking and showing him the wad of cash.
He stopped chewing on his cheese and crisp sandwich, swallowed and said, ‘Now listen to me, Frank. You go back to school, do you hear me? You need to be the one to get the education. Mum and Dad…’ Kiefer lowered his voice for this bit, even though the TV was on full blast in the other room. We heard the familiar sound of the Friends theme tune start up. Mum’s howls of laughter floated through from the lounge into the kitchen.
‘It’s not their fault. They never had the education. What I am saying, Frank, is it’s got to be you. Look at me! I’ll be lucky to get promotion and then that will be me, stuck in manual labour jobs for life. I am never going to do better than that. Reese knows that and she loves me for it anyway, so I guess I’m luckier than I think. But you, you have prospects. Don’t flunk out. Go to college. Just for two years. Get the diploma. Get a good job. Please,’ Kiefer said earnestly as he locked his eyes on mine. He picked up his sandwich and finished it in two bites then washed it down with milk that he drank straight from the bottle.
Kiefer was right, but the idea of having money now, every day, rather than going to college and only being able to work the weekends, was really enticing. I picked up the notes and looked at them again. Right then I knew what I was going to do with them.
