‘The sieve, Rosie.’ I unhooked it and took it over to him.
‘It really is a passion for her, this ballet. And for you too, I know.’
He drained the rice and served up while I sorted out the table. Shame it had started raining outside: I would have preferred not to sit and eat dinner under Ali’s demanding gaze.
‘You like it?’ he asked.
‘It’s delicious.’
‘But you’re not eating the meat. It’s good for you Rosie, you need the iron, stop you fainting in Peter’s arms. I can’t have that again.’
‘You make it sound like I did it on purpose. And I am eating the meat.’
‘Good girl.’
He told me how on the Friday we’d be having dinner with his Brazilian friend Matheus and his English girlfriend; it would be the first time that we’d go anywhere as a couple.
‘I’ll clear up, I’m good at that,’ I said, taking the plates. ‘It’s stopped raining, we could go and sit outside again.’
But he’d taken his wine over to Emma’s ballet shrine.
I put the plates in the dishwasher, dealt with the remaining food. Wondered what he would make of the display. And guessed correctly.
‘It’s the men, isn’t it. You like these romantic princes and half-bare male Gods.’
‘No! We’ve got favourites among the ballerinas too. The dancers have different strengths, you get to know their characters. And some are much better actors than others.’
‘And some are more handsome than others. This man, he’s an Adonis. Don’t tell me you care how well he acts.’
‘Rowan. Yes, we’ve got a soft spot for him, but because he’s a fine dancer that can’t seem to find his confidence – too overawed by all the foreign stars around him.’
‘While you’re too overawed by the size of the lump in his trousers.’
‘Well Emma did point that out, yes.’ He didn’t look amused, even though he had no cause to feel intimidated in that respect. ‘But... they all look like that really – they have to wear a padded belt thing to protect their bits and pieces.’
‘These guys are gay,’ he said, pointing to a Ukrainian and two Spaniards.
‘I don’t know. They don’t tell you that in the programme, unfortunately.’
‘Unfortunately? So this is what you discuss at dinner after the show?’
‘No! Well yes, a bit. Look of course we notice the men, but actually we often choose which performance we’re going to see based on the ballerina. This Argentinian one, and this young Brazilian actually, are two of our favourite –’
‘And this man, this animal, who looks like he eats a ballerina for each meal in the day, you like him?’
Like him? I love him. But not in the way I love you. ‘He’s probably the best male dancer in the company. Huge leaps. Very good in the darker roles.’
‘And here he is again. Alejandro Cortés. Spanish?’
‘Cuban.’
‘He can talk too, it seems. Are you just after his body, or are you interested in what he has to say?’ he asked, tapping the In Conversation flyer.
And I could have said, if I was just after his body, I could have had it, all of it, last Monday. I was starting to feel giddy with this juxtaposition, seeing the two of them stare at each other with matching moody expressions.
‘I’m after his dancing. Look, you’ll understand when we go in September. It’s beautiful – musical, dramatic, erotic... an experience like no other.’ I put my arms round him. ‘Well, perhaps like one other.’
***
We were dozing and woken by my mobile again, this time trilling for attention.
‘Mum.’
‘Oh, hello again.’
‘Again? Mum, you’ve got to talk to Dad about Friday.’
‘Friday?’
‘Yeah, look I told you, ages ago, I’m DJing at Tom Lansbury’s party.’
‘Tom... do we know him?’
‘He’s a friend of a guy in my maths class. Why d’you have to know him?’
‘Where does he live?’
‘It’s just along the A27. Not as far as Eastbourne... well, just outside...’
‘That’s a hell of a way.’
‘Basically, Dad needs to pick me up from Ollie’s and take me there to get set up at about six-ish.’
‘And then?’
‘Pick me up on Saturday morning about eleven.’
‘No, you’ve got the drama workshop on Saturday morning, Seb.’
‘I’ll have been DJing for five hours – I can’t possibly go to fucking school in the morning.’
‘Well then you can’t possibly go to the fucking party in the evening.’
Ricardo looked at me with horror; he wasn’t a fan of swearing at the best of times, and when your son’s seven-and-a-half you don’t imagine you’ll ever be talking to him like this.
‘Why did you book this shit for me?’
‘You said you wanted to do it – and we laid out two fifty so you could.’
‘You don’t understand... I’m not going to the party, I’m DJing at it. He says he’ll give me fifty quid. And you know how I’ve been working at this.’
Did I? He certainly spent a lot of time working at driving us frantic with his over-bass-ended brainless music. ‘Well what can I do? I’m here until Emma gets back next Sunday, you know that.’
‘Talk to Dad. He says we can’t expect Grandpa to drive that far. Why can’t he just change whatever he’s doing and take me?’
Obviously seeing Sarah. Fair enough. ‘Only he can answer that. If he’s said no, he’ll have his reasons.’
‘The only reason is he can’t be fucked. Neither of you can be fucked.’
‘Look, if you’re going to talk like – ’
‘Actually why can’t you come down and take me? You can go back on Saturday and feed the cat – she doesn’t need babysitting.’
I wasn’t going to miss the dinner with Ricardo’s friends, our only allies, the first time we could arrive together somewhere, be a couple. ‘I can’t, I’ve something on... and anyway, there’s Saturday – ’
‘I’ll tell you what, it’s not the driving or the Saturday drama, it’s Kenny’s fucking dance class isn’t it. Dad doesn’t want him to miss it to come and pick me up. Kenny the dance star. Kenny fucking Astaire. Dream on. It’s pathetic. Fuck you both.’ The phone went dead.
I considered ringing him back, felt a bit sorry for him. But at the time it looked like there was nothing I could do.
‘Sounds stressful,’ Ricardo said, rubbing my shoulders.
‘It is. You’ve got all this to come.’
‘But with you, an expert by then.’
‘I don’t think I’ll ever be that.’
‘How about a bath, some tea, and then we go for a walk round what might be our neighbourhood?’
***
Uh. How was I going to get up? Would it be like this all week? Five times in less than twenty-four hours, including the six o’clock sperm-count-higher-in-the-morning invasion of my semi-conscious body before he left for work. It felt like a hangover. A love-over. A fuck-over, I thought defiantly, knowing how he hated the word.
I went for a difficult pee and then flopped through to the kitchen for some coffee, which he seemed to have hidden. Ha! I’d show him, sit next to him at lunch with two cafetières on my tray. But he was only trying to help, increase our chances.
He’d reset the alarm for me, put out a bowl and spoon, a tea bag in a Royal Ballet mug. Made a heart of chocolate raisins on the table. Margot looked up at me, utterly bereft. You had to love him.
***
Wednesday: half way through the week. It was going too quickly. But then, how much more sex could I take? He was so sweet, so cuddly, but so – there’s no other word for it – insatiable. If he didn’t calm down a bit once we were together I’d have to talk to him about it. It suddenly didn’t seem quite so unreasonable that he’d only recently stopped having sex with Ana. I tried to go back to sleep until
the alarm went off but... Ana. I was still reeling from Ricardo’s bombshell in the restaurant the night before: without asking him she’d given in and promised Gabriel that they would visit our garden on its Open Day.
It was turning my stomach thinking about it. I hauled myself out of bed, but couldn’t face standing up; I wondered if I was coming down with something. I considered what I was going to have for breakfast and then realised it wasn’t going to happen. I needed less food. In fact, I needed to be sick.
***
‘How are you feeling now – are you ready to eat something?’ Ricardo asked.
‘Mm... Maybe. What time is it?’
‘Half two.’
‘Oh God, I meant to just have a short doze and go in...’
‘I’m sure the contact lens infection world can manage without you for a day.’
He brought me some porridge, even though he’d never made any before. Lay on the bed next to me and stroked my hair. He was a very sweet nurse. Like Jez – but I didn’t want to remember that.
‘Has Alvin called?’ he asked.
‘No.’
‘Perhaps he called when you were asleep – you should check.’ He picked up my phone, looked like he was going to open it, but probably felt uncomfortably reminded of our row in the hotel and passed it to me.
‘Nope. No missed calls and no texts. Perhaps he’s still not sure.’
‘Or he didn’t take your number to work, won’t call until he gets home. Anyway, there’ll be other flats we could rent.’
‘I know, but just imagine.’ He took off his clothes and got into bed next to me. ‘Hey, I’m on sick leave.’
‘I’m going to make you better.’
***
‘I think you’ve totally cured me,’ I said, yawning myself awake, opening my eyes and stretching my arms and legs. ‘I wonder what I had last night that – ’
‘Have a shower and get dressed.’ He was sitting in the chair with his phone in his hand, looking out into the street. He looked deadly serious; I thought he was playing a game with me.
‘He called, didn’t he,’ I asked, expecting him to break into a smile.
‘Who?’
‘Alvin. We’re going round, aren’t we.’
He continued to look out of the window. He seemed to be doing very well with the acting.
‘If he’d called, Rosie, it would be on your phone.’
I couldn’t understand what he meant; surely Alvin also had Emma’s landline.
‘Happy for me to answer your phone, are you Rosie?’
‘Yes...’ And then I noticed that the phone in his hand was mine. A feeling of ice ran through my veins, a roaring in my ears. I’d managed to resist, I’d been faithful; I was – as much as any woman could possibly have managed – innocent. But perhaps, somehow, that was why I hadn’t remembered to delete Ali’s texts.
He’d got up and was coming towards me. My heart began to pound.
‘And is that because you’re stupid, or because you want me to find out you’re having sex with this man, you little bitch!’ He had my upper arms clenched in his hands. ‘Why have you done this, when you know what I’m giving up, know how much I – ’
‘I’m not, I haven’t, I can explain... Ow! Listen!’
He let go and sat down on the bed. ‘Okay Rosie, I’m going to listen. Let’s see, we’ll start from the beginning shall we?’ He’d opened my phone, tapped the buttons. ‘I don’t want what happened to be a problem. We are wonderful together, teacher and pupil. There’s not a thing in the world that can mess this up.’ Tuesday morning after your lesson.’
‘Oh... I was late, we argued because I thought he was too cross. ‘There’s not a thing in the world’ is from that film Team America – ’
‘Fall on me any time, Ali, and two kisses.’
‘I was... leaning over to write something in his book and lost my balance a bit. It’s just a joke.’
‘And this...’ he said, his voice faltering. ‘Last Saturday. ‘I wear my shirt today, is soft, like a special communication from you to me.’ Why would you give him a present?’
‘I didn’t, I just tumble dried it.’
‘His wife could do that.’
‘She wasn’t there.’
He started nodding. ‘Yes of course not. Obviously. And something else you lied about.’
‘Look, we’re just friends. Why can’t you believe me? Why would I – ’
‘Because you’ve lied about him before, put him in front of me before, and – ’
‘I haven’t, I’m telling you the truth.’
‘Are you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you sure Rosie?’
‘Yes, I – ’
His fingers dug into my upper arms, pinning me to the bed, his wild eyes inches from mine. ‘You’re lying! He’s just texted, wants to play for you on the phone again – you said it was Seb, why would you do that?’
‘I thought you’d be cross.’
‘Tell me the truth about him, I’ve got to know. Now!’
‘Nothing happened... Let go, you’re hurting – ’
‘You’re not going anywhere until you tell me everything.’
The pain was becoming intense. ‘Okay... I’ll tell you.’
I watched his face turn from anger to anxiety. He loosened his grip.
‘He tried to kiss me... put his hands under my blouse... I told him to stop, and then he was sorry. That’s it.’
He looked to one side; I saw tears in his eyes.
‘You get so jealous, I’m scared to tell you things.’
‘But if you could stop lying, maybe I’d trust you.’
‘Why would I have sex with him, when we’re trying for a baby?’ He let go and put his head in his hands. ‘And he knows about you. Look – you’ve missed out a text.’ I picked up the phone from the floor and scrolled through. ‘Ricardo is lucky man.’ And then my reply.’
He took the phone from me and looked, then put it on the bedside table. Glanced at me briefly. Stood up and went to the window. ‘I’m worried about us, Rosie. Worried about what you’re doing to me, making me become. Maybe we shouldn’t be together, we don’t deserve it, it’s not meant to be.’
‘What?’ I said, rushing to stand up and put my arms round him, ignoring the sudden dizziness. But he held me at arms’ length.
‘I can’t go on like this.’
‘But... no! We just need to be together, then we’ll be okay.’
‘What we need is for you to start being honest with me, all the time. Even if it’s difficult.’ He put his arms round me and I sank into him, sobbing.
‘Yes... Yes okay.’
Then he gently pulled back, looking into my eyes. ‘Now think Rosie, is there anything else you should tell me? I promise to listen.’
***
‘I shouldn’t have brought you out, you’re still not well.’
‘I’m okay. And we had to celebrate – ’
‘I don’t feel like celebrating, not after...’ he reached over the table and stroked my upper arm, his eyes wide and sad.
‘Look I understand,’ I said, putting my hand on his. ‘And it’s just as much my fault. Let’s put it behind us.’ He was gazing at the candle, face in hand. ‘Just picture that gorgeous turquoise bathroom we’re going to be using in a couple of months’ time.’
He looked up and smiled. ‘I think we should use the bedroom with the doors out onto the decking, even though it’s smaller.’
‘Definitely.’
***
Thursday morning. Only two days left: early on Saturday morning Ricardo would have to go back home. Presumably to make his house look like he’d been living in it all week, before Ana returned in time to get Gabriel ready for a party in the afternoon.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked.
‘I’m coming in early with you. I never get back to sleep anyway. I can catch up a bit after being off yesterday.’
‘Perhaps come home early.’
&
nbsp; ‘Yes, start dinner.’
‘No, I’ll help you with that. I’m teaching you cozido remember?’
‘Oh God. I mean, great.’
He laughed, squeezed me. ‘Come on, you’ll have to hurry, I need to leave in fifteen minutes.’
A frantic shower, half a bowl of cereal. ‘That’s not enough. Take two bananas.’
‘Okay.’
A quick whizz of the toothbrush.
‘Come on, Rosie.’
‘I am coming on.’
‘Got everything?’
‘Er... yes.’
‘Good. Let’s go.’
Of course I didn’t have everything. I practically never have everything at the best of times, and certainly not when I’ve had to rush. I was soon to discover that I was missing my watch and iPod. And my phone.
But I didn’t immediately realise I’d forgotten it. Perhaps if I had, as soon as I got to work, I would have had time to go back to the flat and look for it, then guessed where it was and gone to fetch it. ‘Yes, I grabbed it for you when we were leaving then forgot to give it to you,’ he would have said. I would have thanked him, had a quick kiss and a cuddle in his office or the corridor leading to the wards and then gone back to my desk. In time to receive the text.
31.
‘Nice and early Rosie! You better?’ Damian asked.
‘Yeah, ate something funny. I’m okay now.’
‘And how’s your flat mate?’
‘What?’
‘Your furry charge. Was she a comfort to you? Miserable being ill on your own.’
I decided to ignore him: I hadn’t hauled myself out of bed early just to make stilted conversation with insect-man, even if he had made big strides forward in humanisation under Lisa’s spell. I finished deleting the backed-up non-applicable emails and opened my letters. The phone rang. Jez.
‘Hi Doc. What’s happened to your mobile this time? Honestly, you need to put that bloody thing round your neck. Look I can’t remember if we handed in that thing about Kenny’s Isle of Wight trip, it’s got to be in by today. Can’t find it anywhere.’
‘Yes. Unbelievable I know but I actually sent it back the day we got it. Have they confirmed Linda or another assistant’s going with him?’
‘I was going to check today. You’re in very early.’
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