by Rebecca Wait
Judith departed, and Stephanie forced herself to drink as much of the concoction in the mug as she could bear. There was a segment of satsuma bobbing on the top, as if for garnish. She placed the mug out of sight in case Judith came to check the next morning, contemplated getting up to brush her teeth and take off her make-up, then simply let herself fall into unconsciousness.
*
And suddenly he was there after all, even though it was a Friday, even though she no longer cared, not about men like him who thought they had some kind of power over you.
He didn’t order a coffee this time but came straight over to the table she was clearing. Stephanie pretended not to see him standing there, but he moved a little closer and touched her arm.
‘Stephanie. How are you?’
‘Fine, thanks.’ She didn’t pause in her stacking of plates, nor even look up at him. But when she took the dirty crockery over to the counter, he followed.
‘When’s your break?’
‘Already had it.’ She had gone behind the counter to load the plates into the dishwasher.
‘Don’t you get more than one a day? When’s your next one?’
She shrugged. ‘Not for ages. Sorry.’ She suspected Helen and Liz were both watching them from across the room.
‘I’ll wait,’ he said.
‘We’re very busy today.’
There was a pause. He said, ‘You know, I’ve been away these past few weeks.’
She wanted to say something icy and formidable, like And? or What’s it to me? but nothing came. She carried on stacking the plates instead.
He put his hands on the counter. ‘My uncle died,’ he said. ‘I had to go back to London to make arrangements for the funeral. There was a lot to sort out.’
‘Oh! God.’ She turned to face him. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Thank you.’
She looked at him helplessly. ‘I could see if Helen will swap with me. If you like. See if I could take a break sooner?’
‘That would be great. Perhaps we could go for a walk. Or go to a coffee shop.’ He stopped, then smiled. ‘That was a stupid thing to say.’
‘I’ll go and talk to Helen.’
In the end, they walked away from the town centre and up the hill a little way, stopping to sit on a bench beside the road. Beyond the houses scattered at the edge of the town you could just see the moors looming up on the horizon, shadowy and vast, trying to block out the light.
‘Was it very hard?’ she said.
‘In some ways. It was partly the fact that I didn’t feel all that much grief for him, and then of course that made me feel terrible.’
‘You weren’t close, then?’
‘Well.’ Nathaniel glanced up towards the moors. ‘He brought me up. He was all I had. So yes, I suppose we were close.’
Stephanie caught herself wanting to touch him, and resisted.
‘But – he didn’t like children much,’ Nathaniel said. ‘And he ended up stuck with me after my parents died, so that was difficult for him. He did his best.’
She noted the reference to his parents – both dead, then. Awful for him. She said, ‘He must have cared about you.’
‘Yes, I suppose so. And anyway, I was all he had, as well. Hardly anyone came to the funeral. That was sad, too.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I was thinking while I was down there,’ he said, ‘about whether I should just stay in London. I get restless sometimes. And this town can feel small.’
‘That’s true.’
‘But it was strange,’ he said. ‘When I thought about settling down south, and never coming back here, I kept—’
When he stopped, she leaned forward a little. ‘You kept what?’
‘It’s funny,’ he said. ‘I kept thinking of you.’
The first time they went out to dinner, she was amazed again at how easy it was to talk to him, and how interested he was in her. They went to an Italian restaurant, and both chose the pizza with ham and mushrooms, and shared a bottle of white wine. Stephanie found herself swigging it at first, looking for the familiar soothing lull, but soon noticed he wasn’t drinking much and managed to slow down.
Nathaniel sympathized when she said she disliked working in the cafe and told her about a job he’d had once in a canning factory (‘Even now I turn pale at the sight of a tinned peach’). He’d had an office job for a while, too, which he’d also hated.
‘I lasted even less time there,’ he said. ‘Though it was much better paid than anything else I’d done, and there were opportunities for career progression and so on. My uncle was furious when I resigned.’
‘How long did you stay?’
‘Only about three weeks.’ He smiled. ‘And by “resigned”, I really mean went out for my lunch break and never returned.’
‘You didn’t!’
‘Afraid so. I know. Not great behaviour. I didn’t even intend to, really. I went out for my sandwich, and then found my legs carrying me further and further away. I ended up getting on the train and going to the seaside.’
‘Nathaniel!’ She was laughing, enjoying being able to scold him. ‘But you’re a teacher now?’
‘Who told you that?’
‘One of the girls at the cafe.’ She felt herself blushing.
‘Well, she’s right.’
‘What do you teach?’
He paused for a moment. ‘Philosophy.’
He was even cleverer than she’d realized, then. ‘Adults or children?’ she said.
‘Both, actually. But I’d rather talk about you – I’m very boring. Tell me something else about yourself.’
She had to bring up Judith at this point. But incredibly, he didn’t seem perturbed; just exclaimed that she looked far too young to be mother to a twelve-year-old. She didn’t mind the line from him.
‘I don’t like him,’ Judith said, a few weeks later. ‘Why’s he round here all the time?’
‘Sweetheart, he’s hardly ever round here. He’s only been over twice, for God’s sake.’
‘I don’t like him.’
‘Don’t you want me to be happy?’ Stephanie said, playing her trump card.
Judith considered. ‘Yes, I do. But there are other ways.’
‘You don’t know him, love. You haven’t given him a chance.’
‘I have,’ Judith said. ‘He has chest hair coming out of the top of his shirt, and he doesn’t know how to talk to children.’
‘If you’re rude to him again,’ Stephanie said, ‘I’ll take away your Game Boy.’
Judith narrowed her eyes and left the room.
When Nathaniel stayed over for the first time, Stephanie was nervous; she hadn’t slept with anyone for a long time. Judith was having a sleepover at Megan’s, and Stephanie knew she should get it over with now; there might not be another opportunity for a while. She was half afraid he would turn her down when she suggested he come over that evening (‘and bring a toothbrush’, she added awkwardly), but he had accepted calmly, as though it weren’t such a big deal.
It was, though. She’d been on a clandestine shopping trip in her lunch break to buy new underwear – dark purple, matching; rather cheap, but it couldn’t be helped – and spent a long time shaving her legs, underarms and bikini line, the first time she’d bothered in ages. The whole process felt clinical and absurd.
She was so anxious when he started kissing her after dinner that she felt sick. But he took things slowly, and once they were in her bedroom, she began to relax.
As he pushed her back onto the bed, he said, ‘I wish this was your first time. I wish I was the only one.’
‘Me too,’ she said. No man had ever been this romantic with her, not even Sean in the very early days.
All the same, she was afraid the moment before he entered her, though she couldn’t say why. She tried to touch his face, but he gently took hold of her wrists and moved her arms back to rest on either side of her head. He kept his hands on her wrists as he pushed into her and she couldn’t think at all
any more, not even to be afraid. He looked down at her, stilling for a moment. Time stretched itself out before them.
Then he began to move again, and Stephanie had a strange sense of being taken over, that something formless and unseen was moving inside her as well as his body. There was an ache low in her stomach but it became warmth, moving up into her chest and then into her head, making her ears ring.
When he came, shuddering and easing himself down on top of her, she felt his breath hot in her ear as he whispered, ‘Thank God I found you.’
Pinned there beneath him, her limbs trembling and her thighs wet, she said, ‘Yes.’
*
Later, when they were lying with their arms round each other, he said, ‘What do you think is meant for us, Stephanie?’
Her head on his chest – slightly uncomfortable – she said, ‘I don’t know.’ She wasn’t sure if he meant us as a couple or us as the human race, and was waiting for more of a prompt.
He said, ‘Do you think we’re meant to be miserable?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said again. ‘Are we meant to be anything?’
‘You’re an extraordinary person. I hate seeing you so unhappy.’
She raised her head. ‘Who says I’m unhappy?’
‘Anyone can see it. Anyone who sees you properly, that is.’
He saw her, she thought. She said, ‘The last few years haven’t been easy,’ and was surprised to find a thickness in her throat.
‘I know, my darling,’ he said. ‘I know.’
‘I love Judith to bits, but – she’s a handful. And I haven’t had any help.’
He pulled her closer. ‘But you’ve got me now. Haven’t you?’
She nodded against his chest, closing her eyes.
4
A few weeks later, Nathaniel suggested introducing her to one of his friends.
‘Thomas has heard so much about you,’ he said. ‘But it’s possible he thinks I’ve made you up. My reputation’s on the line.’
‘Your reputation as what?’ Stephanie said. ‘A ladies’ man?’
‘Why have you adopted an ironic tone?’
Stephanie looked forward to this further glimpse into Nathaniel’s life. There had been tantalizingly few so far, but this wasn’t surprising given that he had no family left and had moved around a lot. She was excited about meeting Thomas, even if it did mean another argument with Judith.
‘We were supposed to be spending Saturday together,’ Judith said.
‘But love, we hadn’t arranged anything.’
‘I’m your daughter. We’re not supposed to “arrange” things. You’re supposed to want to spend time with me. But now you’re gadding off with him again!’
Where on earth, Stephanie wondered, did she pick up expressions like this? She said, ‘It’s only for a couple of hours.’
‘You’re not supposed to leave me alone at all. I’m only a kid. I might set the house on fire.’
‘You probably won’t even have been awake long by the time I’m back. I’ll be home by twelve. Then we’ll do something nice in the afternoon. OK? Rent a film and – make our own popcorn,’ she added in a burst of inspiration. This seemed to mollify Judith, but she still went off muttering about ‘that man’.
Stephanie arrived at the cafe – a rival establishment – a little early, but Nathaniel was already there, along with a man with fair hair, wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt even though it was the weekend. He seemed to be regarding her rather seriously as Nathaniel introduced them. Stephanie reached out to shake hands, made formal by Thomas’s own air of polite reserve.
The conversation did not flow easily, but Nathaniel appeared untroubled by this, sitting back comfortably in his chair with his arms folded. Thomas asked Stephanie about her job and about Judith, with an awkwardness that discouraged long answers.
‘How long have you two known each other?’ Stephanie said when there was a lull.
‘More than fifteen years,’ Thomas said.
‘Where did you meet?’
She saw Thomas glance at Nathaniel before he answered. ‘Church.’
‘Church?’ She didn’t mean to parrot him in this stupid way, but Nathaniel had never mentioned religion before.
‘We went to the same meetings,’ Thomas said. ‘In London. Many years ago.’
She would have liked to know more about this, but it was always difficult to talk about religion. ‘You’re from London too?’ she said instead. ‘How come you both ended up here?’
There was a short silence.
Thomas said, ‘We all needed a change. It was the right time.’
Stephanie was confused by his use of ‘all’, but she didn’t have a chance to ask about it because Nathaniel was speaking.
‘There wasn’t much to keep us in London,’ he said. ‘We’d outgrown it.’
Stephanie nodded, though she had only been to London twice, and it had seemed vast and sprawling to her – a place that would swallow you up before you outgrew it.
‘Where do you live round here?’ she asked Thomas.
‘A little way from Fosswick,’ he said. ‘On the moors. It’s a bit secluded, but very beautiful.’
Sounds cold, Stephanie thought. She knew Nathaniel lived near Fosswick as well, though she hadn’t visited his house; it was easier for him to stay at her place, because of Judith. She asked Thomas, ‘Do you go walking a lot, if you live on the moors?’
‘When I have time.’
Another long pause. She said, trying for playfulness, ‘What was Nathaniel like when he was younger, then?’
Thomas seemed at a loss. ‘He was – like he is now,’ he said.
Stephanie knew when she was defeated. As the silence opened up again, she began to feel annoyed with Nathaniel for contributing so little. But at that moment, he reached across the table and took her hand, saying to Thomas, ‘Well? Do you see what I mean? See why I love her?’
Stephanie felt her face growing hot with pleasure, though she tried to appear calm.
Thomas got to his feet not long afterwards, murmuring something about errands. ‘It was nice to meet you,’ he said to Stephanie.
‘I’ll see you in the usual place,’ Nathaniel said. ‘Forty minutes, OK?’
‘No problem.’ Thomas nodded to Stephanie and left.
She remained quiet for a few moments, thinking Nathaniel might tell her he loved her again, or begin to explain a bit more about his friend. But Nathaniel seemed content to sit in silence, staring thoughtfully down at his mug.
Eventually, Stephanie said, ‘I didn’t know you went to church. Do you believe in God, then?’
He put his head on one side. ‘Don’t you?’
‘No. At least – I don’t know.’
‘Perhaps you haven’t given yourself space to think about it.’
‘Perhaps not.’ She reached for her handbag. ‘Anyway, I’d better go. I’ve left Judith on her own.’
He put his hand out to still her. ‘Just a little longer. Come for a quick walk with me. Judith will be alright.’
They left the cafe and wandered up the hill to sit on their usual bench, Nathaniel holding her hand.
He said, ‘Look at these people.’
She looked, but couldn’t see what had drawn such a tone of despair from him. One or two of the passers-by were overweight, perhaps. Some were badly dressed.
Then she got it. ‘They all look so miserable, don’t they?’
‘Exactly.’ She could tell he was pleased with her. ‘And why?’
‘I don’t know. They – don’t like their lives, I suppose.’
‘Yes. They’re worried about money, their relationships, their jobs. They’re suffering, but there’s no purpose behind it. Without a greater purpose we’re just animals, dressed in our people clothes, trying to forget our dying bodies.’
She shivered in the cold wind. He didn’t sound like himself. Must be the philosophy teacher coming out.
He put his arm around her and pulled her closer. ‘I�
��m sorry to talk like this. I just feel sorry for them. For everyone who’s unhappy and can’t change it.’
She leaned her head on his shoulder.
‘I don’t want you to waste your life,’ he said.
She was startled at this, and turned to look at him. ‘Well, I don’t either. But like you said, there are lots of things you can’t change.’
‘What if you could change things for yourself in a way that other people can’t? What if there was a way for you to be happy?’
She kept her eyes on his face.
He said, ‘If you were offered an opportunity for real happiness, wouldn’t you be mad not to take it?’
‘Well – I suppose so,’ she said.
‘I see you, Stephanie. Remember that.’
She nodded.
‘And I love you,’ he said. ‘I’ve loved you from the moment you came over to wipe up my coffee spill.’
‘So romantic.’
He laughed. ‘I don’t know why I haven’t said it before – only I thought you must know.’
‘I love you too.’ Incredible, she thought, to say these words to a man and realize that for the first time you truly meant them.
‘I’m not going to let you waste your life. You’re too extraordinary for that.’
She looked ahead and tried to imagine the tunnel walls coming down, life spreading out before her in a wide, glorious sweep.
Nathaniel’s hand rested on her shoulder. ‘Are you ready for something better, my love?’
‘I think so.’
‘I want to take care of you,’ he said. ‘If you’ll let me. I’m going to do everything in my power to give you the happiness you deserve. I feel so lucky to have met you.’
She leaned forward to kiss him. ‘I’m the lucky one,’ she said.
5
There was no getting away from him these days. Judith could always sense him before he arrived: a prickle in the air, her mum taut as a stretched string.
He brought them both presents. For her mum, a thin little book with a glossy cover that she wouldn’t let Judith read; two long skirts, one dark blue and the other green, to replace the jeans she usually wore; and a silver ring which she now wore on the fourth finger of her right hand.
