The Lie of You: I Will Have What Is Mine

by Lythell, Jane

  ‘I’m sorry to have disturbed you. I’m just so surprised to hear it’s her mother who’s ill. I assumed it was her father; he has a heart condition, you see.’

  Now I was feeling sorry for him, left high and dry. He had come to the office because he was worried and had heard nothing from her. I felt an odd sense of kinship with him. We were both victims of her secrets and her icy coldness and I found myself wanting to help him.

  ‘I’m just thinking, I do have Heja’s application for the job here. There might be more details on that. It’s worth a look.’

  I got up and went over to my desk and pulled open the filing drawer.

  ‘This is very kind of you,’ he said.

  I flicked through the files until I found her job application and scanned it quickly.

  ‘No, I’m sorry. It’s just the address in Blackfriars.’ I looked at the second page.

  ‘There’s a number here for her reference; now, that might be a Helsinki number.’

  ‘Can I see?’

  ‘I probably shouldn’t be doing this...’

  I showed him that bit of the form.

  ‘Ilkka Laine. Can I take the details down?’

  I wrote down the name and number of Ilkka Laine on a Post-it note and gave it to him.

  ‘Just between us,’ I said.

  ‘Of course. Thank you very much. I appreciate you doing that.’

  And then I saw him look at my photograph of Billy and Markus, which I have on my desk. I’m sure I saw a flash of recognition in his eyes. He saw that I’d noticed him noticing the photograph and tried to cover that with a question.

  ‘Is that your son?’

  ‘Yes, Billy. It was taken a few months ago. He’s nearly one now.’

  ‘He looks very interested in the world.’

  ‘He is!’

  I walked him to the door. He gave me his card and I saw that he was a psychoanalyst. We stood there awkwardly as if there was much more we could both have said.

  ‘I do hope you can find something out.’

  ‘I hope so too. I would very much like to support Heja through this crisis if I can.’

  We shook hands and he left.

  I was shaken by this meeting with Robert. He had recognized Markus; I know he had. And he didn’t want to acknowledge that to me. But how could he have recognized him? Does she have pictures of Markus in her flat? Could he have met him? And did he know that they were lovers for nine years? No, I didn’t think so. She would have her secrets from him just as Markus had his secrets from me. He wanted to help her and she had just left him hanging. She and Markus were alike: they gave so little and they both held the most important bit back.

  And I wondered why I hadn’t asked him more about her. He has been her lover for months and he’ll know stuff about her. I think what stopped me saying more was that it’s obvious he’s crazy about her and I could not have concealed my hatred of her.

  Aisha had gone to lunch so I locked my office and went for a walk up to Hampstead to try to calm myself. What is it about her? When I think of Heja I feel my face go all hard and my lips tighten as if there is something very bitter in my mouth. I don’t want to feel like this any more. I want to get back to how I felt on the walk to Botallack, with the sweet-smelling heather stretching out on either side of us, the sun high overhead, Markus at my side and Billy on my back. How I was before I saw that photograph of them. I was happy then and didn’t know it.

  Happy? I was living in a fool’s paradise. There is this one lie, Markus not telling me about Heja when I first told him we’d hired her. At first it is only a single lie, but that one lie creates a chain reaction and it affects everything around it. That lie meant that Markus could never talk to me about his life in Finland. That lie meant that a distance gradually grew between us. It was the fault line running through our relationship, which I had begun to feel after Billy was born. But of course the trouble had already started when I was six months pregnant and we appointed Heja. That lie destroyed the intimacy and the pleasure we’d enjoyed in the early months of our relationship when we both felt we had been gifted a new beginning. That lie meant that every time I spoke to Heja, or passed her on the stairs, or gave her an article to write, she had this other knowledge, this other conversation running in her head. She knew what I did not know. She knew that Markus had lied to me. And Markus built another lie on the first one when I asked him about Heja and her job in television. Then one day the lies rise to the surface and bob in front of your eyes like pieces of excrement floating on greasy water. The lies spread and rot and destroy and it is immaterial that I found out that day in Botallack, or that Robert found out today about Markus and Heja. The lies could not have lived on much longer.

  Today was truly horrible. Philip Parr got back from his holiday and was in early and Heja’s poison is spreading.

  His first meeting was with Victoria. While she was in with him I was going through my emails and saw that one had come in from Hector Agapito. We’ve invited all the contributors to the launch party, as well as the press and travel writers. I opened it at once and Hector had written that he was definitely coming to the launch, was looking forward to it. He was also going to be in London next week and wondered if we could meet for lunch. He hoped I was fine and that Billy was thriving and to let him know if we could meet. It was a really friendly email and his photos are going to be a big feature at the launch. We are planning to put a big screen up and we’ll play a sequence of the best photographs blown up to magnificent size. Some of his shots have been chosen for this presentation.

  My first instinct was to say no to the lunch with Hector. I’m a changed person since we met in Lisbon in June. My marriage is in difficulties and I’m filled with feelings of jealousy and inadequacy. Then I remembered our lunch of moules and how easy it had been to talk to him and how warm he was. And, oh, I needed some warmth at the moment. So I emailed him back that, yes, we should meet for lunch, that this time it would be my treat and I knew where we could get some great fish and chips. The phone buzzed on my desk and I jumped for some reason. It was Philip’s PA, summoning me to his to office to report on what had been going on in his absence.

  As soon as I walked into his room I could feel his aggression. He barely answered my polite enquiries about his holiday, grunting a response and waving it away then asking in a nasty tone of voice, ‘What’s this I hear about Heja leaving?’

  ‘I was about to tell you. Heja came to see me a couple of weeks ago and had to leave at once to go to Helsinki. Her mother’s very ill and—’

  ‘Why didn’t you clear this with me?’ he barked.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Why didn’t you consult me? I wasn’t on the moon. I was at the end of a phone.’

  ‘What was there to consult about? Heja virtually demanded that she leave at once. I offered her compassionate leave. She said no she wanted to resign with immediate effect; that she couldn’t work out her notice. She’d booked a plane ticket for the very next day!’

  ‘There’s something not quite right here,’ he said in an accusing tone of voice.

  I could feel fear and anger building in me in equal measure. I felt simultaneously wronged and in the wrong.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Why would Heja give up her job just like that?’ He snapped his fingers in an aggressive way near my face. ‘She told me she liked working here. But she didn’t like the team dynamics. Were you having a difficult relationship with her?’

  ‘Philip, I object to the way you’re talking to me. You seem to be accusing me of something.’

  ‘While you were on holiday Heja made a few criticisms of the heritage guide, quite sensible criticisms, as it happens. She felt she couldn’t talk to you about them.’

  ‘This is the first I’ve heard of this.’

  ‘Precisely,’ he snapped at me.

  ‘This is too much! Heja demanded to leave because her mother is very ill. If you want to accuse me of being a bad manager
then go ahead and do it.’

  Philip backed off at this point. ‘I’m just saying it’s very unfortunate to lose someone of Heja’s abilities.’

  ‘And good looks,’ I hissed back.

  I turned and walked out of his office. I was buoyed up by my rage.

  Some time later Victoria came to see me. I had a great pile of papers on the floor and had been going through them, tearing up old articles and letters and stuffing them into my waste bin in fury. I was going to leave the magazine. I couldn’t work with Philip Parr. I’d had enough. Before Botallack I would have called Markus and told him what had happened and asked his advice. Things had changed and I could not call him now – and certainly not to discuss Heja!

  Victoria stood at the threshold of my office and raised one eyebrow as she said, ‘I’ve been sent as the messenger of peace. He knows he went too far. He doesn’t want you to resign too, just before our big launch.’

  ‘He’s outrageous. He accused me of driving Heja away.’

  ‘Look, Heja was a difficult woman. No one liked her.’

  ‘Except Philip...’

  Victoria knelt down on the floor next to me with a sigh.

  ‘He fancied her, for God’s sake. You know Philip. And she made moves on him while you were in Cornwall. Went to lunch with him and he probably thought he was in with a chance.’

  ‘It’s so like her to go behind my back. How do you put up with him? He’s vile and I would like to leave; just pack my stuff and go!’

  ‘Don’t, Kathy. You’re a bloody good editor and we’re about to launch your guide. It’s your baby.’

  ‘Bloody monster baby! And he said that Heja was critical of it.’

  ‘She thought we shouldn’t do all the sites. She was scathing about some of the minor sites.’

  ‘So we should do a survey but leave things out!’

  ‘Hey, I’m on your side! Come on, come out for a coffee with me.’

  ‘Sorry, yes, let’s get out of here.’

  As Victoria and I walked through the office the place was charged with emotion. Word must have got round that Philip and I had had a big bust-up.

  When Hector arrived at the office in the last week of September I hurried down to meet him in the foyer. I’d dressed with care that morning and had put on a summer print dress with sunflowers on it and a short yellow cardigan. Then I’d felt a bit awkward wearing the pretty dress all morning, even though the day was sunny. Was it too obvious that I wanted to look nice? At least there had been no Heja there to look at me with mocking eyes. Hector was in jeans and a white linen shirt and looked tanned and relaxed. He hugged me, kissed me on the cheek and complimented me on my dress.

  We walked to a café I liked and found a table in the corner. Our tablecloth was red gingham and cheerful.

  ‘They do good cod here but the haddock is great,’ I said.

  ‘I’m in your hands, Kathy.’

  I ordered two haddock and chips with a side order of mushy peas and two giant gherkins.

  ‘Mushy peas...? That will be a new experience. How are things?’ he asked, giving me one of his direct and warm looks.

  ‘OK; maybe a bit better than OK...’

  ‘I sense a “but” there...’

  I looked around the café and there was no one in there that I knew. To be on the safe side I slipped into Portuguese.

  ‘My boss is a difficult man.’

  ‘Bosses often are.’

  ‘Yes. I haven’t been editor long, only since April, and I’m still on probation. He makes me feel insecure. And when I’m insecure I make mistakes. And we had a bad bust-up last week.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘He took his temper out on me because a member of my team he fancied had resigned while he was on holiday.’

  ‘He sounds a prick.’

  ‘He really is. I’m still feeling sore about it.’

  ‘But you’re about to launch your guide.’

  ‘Yes. I did honestly think about leaving the magazine. I’ve calmed down a bit now.’

  ‘Do you like the rest of your team?’

  ‘Yes, they’re a great bunch. You know as editor you have to keep yourself a bit aloof.’

  ‘I don’t think I could ever work for a company,’ he said. ‘I’ve been freelancing all my life and it suits me fine.’

  He smiled at me so warmly and it felt easy talking to him.

  ‘And how is your Billy?’

  ‘Just wonderful and on the point of walking. Then watch out, I won’t have a minute to myself.’

  ‘I kind of envy you that.’

  ‘You don’t have any children yet?’

  ‘No, to the regret of my parents! They’ve made it clear they expect grandchildren some day soon.’

  ‘Parents do that to men too, do they?’

  ‘Oh yes!’

  ‘I was in this relationship for about six years, before Markus. My mum in particular gave off this unspoken longing that I produce the next generation.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘We split up, eventually. Eddie drinks, you see. Not all the time, but he is a problem drinker. I adored him and wouldn’t see it for what it was. I kept hoping he would sort himself out.’

  Hector nodded, his brown eyes warm on me.

  ‘That must have been painful.’

  ‘It was.’

  We ordered a second round of tea and coffee. I didn’t want the lunch to end and Hector seemed keen to talk on.

  ‘I made the final break and then I met Markus soon after and got pregnant really quickly. It’s sort of left me reeling really, everything happening so fast.’

  I sipped my tea, hoping I hadn’t implied too much.

  ‘I’m not surprised; and a prick of a boss too...!’

  I giggled.

  ‘That’s enough about me. Are you with someone?’

  ‘Not now. I was. I was with Lucia for about five years but it didn’t work out.’

  ‘I’m sorry. What went wrong?’

  ‘She couldn’t stand that I had to travel so much to do my work. We moved in together quite soon after we met. And she wanted me to be there all the time. Her neediness drove me crazy. It drove me away in the end. It was hard because I had really fallen for her.’

  ‘Do you keep in touch?’

  ‘No. She is married now and happy with a husband who does not go away. You don’t realize when you’re starting out and falling in love just how important it is to find someone who fits with you, who has similar expectations. I could never be happy long term with a needy woman. I tried so hard to make it work with Lucia though.’

  We all have these failed relationships, I thought. Why is it so difficult to get it right?

  ‘We’re both battle-scarred,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, we are both veterans! Thanks for today, Kathy, it’s been fun.’

  ‘It’s been great.’

  I paid the bill, in spite of Hector’s protests. We walked out onto Camden Parkway and I pointed him to the tube at the bottom of the road. I was going to get a taxi back to Primrose Hill. I’d been out of the office nearly three hours.

  ‘See you at the launch,’ he said, giving me a proper hug.

  He turned to walk away and then turned back just as I was stepping into a taxi.

  ‘Kathy...’

  I looked up.

  ‘You can always call me if you need to talk to a friendly, you know, veteran.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  In the taxi going back to work I felt better about things for the first time in weeks. Seeing Hector had made me feel more hopeful. And then I realized what it was. Hector made me feel like I was a good person after all.

  Heja

  OCTOBER

  The river is grey today. The sky is overcast and the wind is driving ripples across the surface of the water. The slope of the ripples has been growing steeper all day so the wind must be getting up. This is my last day in this, my beautiful room. The last time I will be able to stand at my large window and
look at the river and the bridge. I have grown to love this view. Markus stood here when we saw each other again for the first time after our seven years apart. He always wanted to live by water. When he was a student he told me that one day he would have a place with an unbroken view of sea and sky. He told me that when we were first together and at that stage of telling each other everything we wanted from life. The psychic undressing you do when you start a love affair; the psychic undressing that is more important than the actual taking off of your clothes.

  We were lying in bed in his bare student room. He lived in a commune and his room was at the top of the house. It was a noisy house. There were no carpets. You could hear his flatmates thundering up and down the stairs. His room was immaculate. He had painted the floorboards with white gloss paint. The bed linen was all white too. He had a table, a chair, a good radio and an old-fashioned built-in cupboard. That was it. He had stuck some of his architectural drawings on the walls. We talked about the house he would design and build for us one day by the edge of the sea.

  Last week I received a handwritten letter from Philip Parr. He said that he hoped his letter would reach me as he knew I was in Finland. He was so sorry to hear of the trouble in my family. If he could do anything to help I was to contact him. He was also very sorry I had decided to leave the magazine. I had made a great contribution to it and if I changed my mind there would always be a role for me on his staff.

  I am sure there would be. What would be the point of that? I have expended so much energy getting that job and working in her team. And what has it achieved? I may have caused her some uncomfortable moments. I may have dented her. All that effort has not brought her down. She has depths of resilience that she can draw on. And I no longer have the time.

  I have kept the answering machine on for the last few weeks and this morning there was a message from Ilkka Laine. I have not spoken to Ilkka for many months. He said that a Robert Mirzoeff had been in touch, had asked him for my parents’ address and should he give it to him? I called him back.

  ‘Heja, it’s wonderful to hear from you. I wasn’t sure if you’d even get my message. I thought you might be here. How are things?’