The Art of Hiding

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The Art of Hiding Page 27

by Amanda Prowse


  This boded very well. ‘And we already know what you want to study – anything to do with sport!’ She laughed.

  ‘Actually, Mum . . .’ He paused. ‘I don’t think I will do a sporty degree. I’m thinking of doing something like Psychology. I’m rethinking my A levels. I still want to do one science subject, but am thinking of maybe Psychology and Sociology.’

  ‘Oh! Well there’s a turn-up for the books.’ She was a little taken aback. To play rugby and concentrate on Physical Education had been his plan for as long as she could remember. ‘And what do you think you might like to do with that degree?’

  He flicked his hair from his eyes. ‘I want to help people, work in therapy, something along those lines.’

  ‘I think that sounds wonderful,’ she said truthfully. ‘Why the sudden change?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about a lot of stuff and I want to do something that makes a difference. I have had experiences that most people haven’t and I can use them.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ She wrapped her arms around her trunk and gave her eldest her full attention. Connor leaned on the wall and looked her in the eye, and just like that, there they were, chatting like equals. The conversation shot a bolt of pride through her very being. Her child was turning into an adult.

  Connor took a deep breath. ‘It was like a double blow, not only losing Dad, losing the house, losing everything. But it was the speed at which it all happened. That for me has been the hardest thing – no notice, no opportunity to get my head around it. Literally one minute I’m playing rugby and in the next instant my dad had died. And when George’s mum dropped me off that day, and I walked through the gates at The Tynings and saw that lorry and those men and the way they looked at me, I won’t ever forget it. They sneered at me, they hated me, and I hadn’t done anything wrong, it wasn’t my fault, they just hated what I stood for, but no matter how much I told myself this, it hurt.’

  ‘I can’t imagine what this has been like for you and Dec,’ Nina said. ‘I think you are right, it’s the timing of everything, one horrible moment tumbling into the next like you are caught in a wave, and just when it feels like your head is above water, you take a breath, and bam! Along came the next wave to suck you under again.’

  ‘That’s exactly what is has felt like, Mum.’ He looked at her with something like relief, happy that she got it.

  ‘And as for those men,’ she continued, ‘they were only doing their job, a horrible job, but their job nonetheless. I think they probably experience abuse and threats every time they enter a property, and my God I understand why! But they weren’t thinking of you personally, it was just another job, and it’s probably a case of attack being the best form of defence. Can you see that?’

  ‘I guess so.’ Connor nodded. ‘But I won’t forget it.’

  ‘I hope that the wounding of it lessens in time. I think it might.’ Nina took a breath. ‘I do have to take some responsibility for that day. I knew a day or two before that it was going to happen soon. I could have given you more warning. I should have probably told you sooner about the finances, but to be honest, Connor, not only was I trying to get it straight in my head, but also I wanted to give you one more day of normality. I thought building a shield around you for as long as I could was the right thing to do.’

  Connor gave a wry laugh. ‘Like Dad.’

  ‘Like Dad how?’ She cocked her head to one side.

  ‘Not wanting to shatter the illusion. Hiding how much trouble we were in. I’ve been reading a lot about people who are depressed. People who live with extreme stress and those who only see one way out . . .’

  She felt her hands shake.

  ‘They often fall into two camps. Those who fall apart externally, seek help, battle it publicly, and then there are those who don’t, can’t. It’s this group of people who interest me most. They are skilled in the art of hiding. I think that my dad must have been like that.’

  Nina stared at him, his words so insightful, so mature, that it quite knocked the breath from her. She felt unsure of how to respond, fascinated and frightened in equal measure by his insight.

  ‘I think you might be right.’

  Despite the June sunshine of the morning, by the time Nina’s shift was over the day had turned foul and dark. Strong winds rattled leaves and debris around the car park. Nina pulled her jacket collar closed as she stepped out into the gloom of the early evening. She couldn’t wait to get home, take off her shoes and have a large mug of tea.

  She became aware of a car idling.

  ‘Need a lift?’ Jacob called to her across the car park. Nina looked up at the black clouds, and with tiredness spreading through her limbs, the warm, comfortable car looked like a much better option than arriving home soaking wet and blown about in the squall.

  ‘Are you sure?’ she asked, a little nervous of being in such close proximity to the man who was, after all, still a stranger.

  ‘Yes, of course! Jump in.’ He leaned over the central console and pushed the door wide.

  Nina slid into the comfortable interior and was instantly and powerfully taken aback by the memory of her old life, when she got into a car not dissimilar to this one, every single day, to nip to the shops, to drop and collect the kids from their fancy school. It felt like a lifetime ago.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Jacob asked as she stared at the illuminated dials of the dashboard.

  She nodded. ‘I forget sometimes about the life I’ve left. Our circumstances have changed quite a bit and I’m so busy living every day, but just now I climbed into your car, and I realised that it’s been a while since I sat in anything this comfortable. I took my beautiful car for granted, took a lot of things for granted.’ She pictured her freezer stuffed full of food, the cupboards bursting with expensive crockery, her beautiful, beautiful flowers, delivered weekly, not to mention the spacious beds where her youngest could sprawl with his feet dangling off the end . . .

  ‘And it’s not that I miss the things, the stuff, even the house. Strangely, what I miss most is the freedom that being comfortable gave me. I had choices because I could afford to have choices.’ She stopped abruptly. ‘God, Jacob! You offer me a lift and here I am gabbling on. I am sorry. Ignore me.’

  The car pulled ahead slowly in the traffic.

  ‘Don’t be sorry, not at all. I understand. And I don’t want to make you uncomfortable in any way, but if you ever need anything . . .’

  ‘Oh God! I hope you don’t think I was . . .’

  ‘No! No, I really don’t.’ He held up his hand. ‘But I just wanted to put that out there, that if you need help, you know where I am and it would be my pleasure to help you.’

  Nina shifted to face him. ‘That is very kind of you.’

  ‘There is something I wanted to say to you too, actually . . . but I’m a bit out of practice.’ He gave a crooked, nervous smile and tapped the leather steering wheel with his thumbs.

  ‘Oh?’ She swallowed, feeling sick at the prospect that he might be about to ask her out. He rested his arms on the steering wheel and leaned forward, avoiding her gaze, and for this slightly removed stance she was grateful. ‘I wanted to ask you—’

  ‘You are a lovely man, Jacob,’ she interrupted him.

  ‘Thank you.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘And I am flattered by your attention, but I have a lot going on and I am still finding my feet, really . . .’

  Jacob let out a sigh. ‘Oh damn, well this is really awkward.’

  ‘No, no.’ She placed her hand on his arm. ‘Please don’t say that. It doesn’t have to be. You and I get on so well and we are going to see each other every time you visit Miss Molly. But the thing is . . .’

  ‘No, Nina.’ He held up his hand. ‘You misunderstand me.’

  ‘I do?’ She faltered.

  ‘When I say this is awkward, I don’t mean you stating the obvious. I mean I knew you had only recently lost your husband. And I don’t think of you as anything other than a friend. A good f
riend.’

  ‘Oh, okay then.’ She smiled, placing her hands in her lap, a little confused and more than a little embarrassed. ‘So what’s so awkward? What did you want to say to me?’

  Jacob let out a deep breath. ‘I . . . I was going to ask you for Tiggy’s number. I’d like to ask her out.’

  Nina let out a squawk of laughter. ‘Are you kidding me? Tiggy?’ She laughed.

  Jacob chuckled, leaning forward on the steering wheel again. ‘Yes! I fancy your sister! I’ve been trying to pluck up the nerve to ask you since I met her in the car park. I thought she seemed brilliant, and I figured the nicer I was to you, the more you’d recommend me to her.’

  ‘Oh my God, I am so embarrassed.’ She covered her face with her palm while laughing.

  ‘Nina, don’t be.’

  ‘You fancy Tiggy!’ She spoke with relief.

  ‘I think she’s great. Feisty.’ He smiled at her like a schoolboy.

  ‘You’d be right.’ She laughed. ‘I would be happy to give you her number, once I’ve okayed it with her first of course.’

  ‘Of course.’ He smiled. ‘I’d treat her like a lady.’

  ‘Oh well, she would find that very disappointing.’

  They both roared with laughter again.

  Nina couldn’t wait to get in, and texted her sister rather than interrupt her at work. Tiggy called back almost immediately.

  ‘Are you winding me up?’

  ‘No, he asked me for your number, said he’d like to ask you out. He said he thought you were great!’ Nina squealed her excitement.

  ‘You’re sure he wants to go out with me?’

  ‘Yes, with you! God!’

  ‘But why? He only met me that once.’ Tiggy seemed genuinely perplexed.

  ‘And that was enough. He saw that you are gorgeous, and sexy, and funny, and kind, and sweet.’

  ‘Ah, thanks, Nina, but I already know that. Just a sec . . .’ Tiggy pulled the phone away from her mouth and bellowed, ‘Give me one second. I know you need beer, but I am on the phone to my sister! Sweet Jesus!’

  ‘And you have the lovely dulcet tones of an angel,’ Nina added, before they ended the call. She immediately sent Jacob her sister’s number and signed the text ‘Cupid’.

  The next morning, Tiggy appeared at the flat bright and early, bouncing nervously. ‘So, I’m going out for dinner with him.’

  Nina tried to make sense of her sister’s blank expression. ‘When?’

  ‘This Thursday. I’ve taken the night off work.’ She huffed. ‘Dean was miffed, it’s quiz night and it gets busy.’

  ‘Forgive me, Tig, but I can’t tell if you are happy or angry about the situation.’

  ‘Both.’

  ‘Would you like to talk about it over a cup of coffee? I’ve got an hour or so before I have to leave.’

  ‘I’d like that. It’s good to talk to you.’

  ‘For me too.’

  Tiggy followed her in.

  ‘So, lovely Jacob wants to pick you up and whisk you off for a fancy meal. What’s not to like?’ Nina asked.

  ‘I don’t go out with people like Jacob Sutherland. I go out with guys who are not like Jacob Sutherland. I go out with guys who hang around the pub, who ask to borrow a fiver the day before payday and who might, if I’m lucky, split a kebab with me on the way home, but who never, ever take me out to dinner! He seems stable and grown-up and normal. And that scares me.’

  ‘Oh now I get it. Yes, definitely do not go out with him. All that stability, grown-upness and normality can be most off-putting,’ Nina said.

  ‘You can joke, but I don’t think we are going to have anything in common,’ Tiggy responded.

  ‘Well, you won’t know until you spend time with him, and no one’s saying it has to be a regular thing. Go out with him once and see how you get on. What have you got to lose?’

  ‘Erm, my reputation! Imagine if one of the regulars at the pub saw me getting in and out of a fancy pickup. I’d never live it down.’

  Nina handed her a cup of coffee. ‘Get him to drop you around the back if you are worried.’ She tutted. ‘Look, I just want you to have a nice time, a good evening, and I think you just might.’

  ‘What am I supposed to wear?’ Tiggy pulled at her denim jacket.

  ‘It pains to me say this, but you would look fantastic in anything. Don’t stress it. Jeans and a nice shirt, whatever you are comfortable in. It’s important you are relaxed and you are yourself, but not too much of yourself.’

  Tiggy snorted.

  ‘I mean it, Tig, he already likes you for you. Just go and be you.’

  ‘Supposing it’s awful and we sit in silence with nothing to say?’

  ‘Then you go to the loo and text me – and I will give it ten minutes and give you the call, saying I need you here right away! And you can make your excuses and leave.’

  ‘Okay. That’s good to know.’

  ‘You could at least try to look a bit happier about the whole event,’ Nina said.

  Tiggy grinned at her with a fake Cheshire cat smile. ‘Can I ask you something?’

  ‘Sure.’ Nina shrugged.

  Tiggy’s expression was sincere. ‘If you had your time again with Finn, and this was your first date, what would you do differently?’

  I wouldn’t jump so quickly. I would make him wait. I wouldn’t give up so much of me. I would slow everything right down. I would look beyond the gloss of money . . .

  ‘God, you mean what would I do differently on our first date or for our whole life? Because for our first date I would definitely wear flat shoes – my feet were killing me, as I recall.’ She tried to diffuse the very real question that her sister was asking. ‘I guess . . .’ She paused. ‘I guess I would be a lot more open about all the things that frightened me and not be afraid of exposing my faults – I’d try and trust him to love me in spite of those things,’ she went on. ‘And I guess if he couldn’t love me with all my faults then I’d have walked away in the opposite direction.’

  ‘And how could he have not?’ Tiggy kissed her sister on the cheek.

  Nina sighed. ‘But the truth is, I would probably do everything exactly as I did, because I would have been the same girl with the same mind and the same experiences and naivety. It was hard not to be impressed by what was on offer, and swept along.’

  ‘I get that.’

  Nina looked at her sister. ‘One minute Dad and I were breaking Jaffa Cakes in half to give ourselves a little sugar top-up, but not wanting to waste a whole one, and the next I am in a restaurant with Finn, with white linen tablecloths and shiny glasses and baskets of fresh-baked bread, which I slathered with butter.’ She smiled at the memory. ‘I loved it and I wanted more of that life!’ She took a breath. ‘Even Finn’s car . . . The passenger seat was the nicest thing I had ever sat in, and he smelled’ – she inhaled, recalling the exact scent that had intoxicated her – ‘he smelled rich. My clothes were never dried properly and always had a faint tinge of damp wafting from them, I never had fancy shampoo and certainly not scent, but Finn – he was pristine! Every aspect of him shone, from the paintwork of his Porsche to his teeth. And I wanted to shine like that!’

  Tiggy took Nina’s hand into hers. Her words when they came were heartfelt, considered. ‘But that’s the thing, Nina. You already did!’

  Connor and Anna were on the sofa sharing a set of headphones while studying. She loved that Anna was so at ease in their home and how she pushed Connor: he was keen to study harder, not wanting to fall below Anna’s exacting academic standards. Declan and Arek were on the floor constructing a robot out of aluminium foil tubes, fabric-softener lids, ice-cream cartons and even an old calculator. ‘Where did you get all that stuff from?’ Nina asked.

  ‘Toothless Vera lets us get it out of her recycling.’

  ‘Right.’ Nina tried not to picture her youngest child dumpster diving. An image of him in his finest Kings Norton College togs flashed into her mind.

  She prepared macaroni
cheese and ladled steaming portions into bowls that she handed out; it was now the norm, and not a treat, to eat from the bowl in your hand while sitting on the sofa or the floor. Setting the table in the kitchen or dining room with a view of the grounds was a dim and distant memory. It had always felt like the right thing to do, trying to erase the memory of searching for a space to sit in her gran’s cluttered parlour. Yet now the whole experience was much more intimate. Gone were the cold looks over the wide tabletop, the clunking sound of serving spoons against the best china and the forced conversation. Here they ate, laughed, chatted and reached across each other in closer proximity, and as a family. Much closer.

  ‘Thank you, this looks lovely!’ Anna was her usual sweet, polite self.

  ‘Surely not better than my ice cubes and peas?’ Nina feigned a hurt look.

  ‘No! Nothing could beat that. It will always be your signature dish.’

  Connor had left to walk Anna back to her house, Arek’s mum had come to take him home, and Declan was in bed, with his large robot made of rubbish propped up in the corner. Nina finally had five minutes to catch her breath on the sofa . . .

  A little after eleven there was a knock on the French doors. She must have dozed off, as it gave her quite a start. She looked through the blind. Tiggy stood on tiptoes, waving and indicating for her to open up. No sooner had she slid the handle, than Tiggy climbed up the balcony and hoisted her body over the railings.

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that. Why can’t you walk through the door like a normal human?’

  ‘Because I am not a normal human.’

  Nina looked up and down the street to see if anyone was watching. Not that anyone cared; at this time of night people were more interested in not spilling their can of beer while eating noodles straight from a foil container or chomping on kebabs. She saw the unmistakable tinge of Lucia’s pink hair behind the till in the store.

  She works so hard, little love.

  ‘What time is it?’ Nina had lost all track.

 

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