‘Oh Lucy!’ She put her hand on mine and I pulled it away. ‘Don’t look so upset! Luce!… Lucy!…’
I could hear her voice but it felt very far away. She went on about how it wasn’t for another six months, and that they would need to sort his divorce out and the finances. There was his house to sell… and that would probably take forever… All I could think was that I was losing the one and only person in my life, really. There was no one else, no one I cared about… not since…
‘Anyway, haven’t you got a relation in Australia or somewhere?’
I sniffed and nodded. ‘Perth, yeah—’
‘Well then!’
‘Well then, what?’
I bit the inside of my lip, hard, and fiercely brushed the stinging tears away.
‘It’s so not like you!’ She rummaged in her bag for a tissue as I struggled to collect myself.
‘Ignore me, really.’ I took it, dabbing my face and blowing my nose. ‘Too many awful prisoners telling me too many awful things, that’s all. A shitty day, that’s all.’
‘You never have shit days, Luce. Oh, apart from…’ she reached forward and extracted a bit of tissue from my lip ‘… when you look like you’ve got snot on your face.’ She made me laugh and almost set me off again. What was this all about? Why was I so upset? Was it just the thought of the months, probably years without her, or had Gould got to me more than I thought? A surge of emotions tumbled one after the other. I hated being up here again; I saw my old life spooling out behind me: old wounds, old shames that dogged me wherever I went.
I’d have to deal with it sooner or later.
Emma downed the rest of her drink and glanced at her watch, nodding at my glass. ‘Are you ready for the other one now?’
‘One?’ I pulled myself together. ‘Tell them I’ll have the whole bottle.’ I gave her a watery smile to show just how fine I was. ‘Are we eating here?’ I glanced round. ‘It looks okay.’
‘Christ Luce, I’ve just realised what an arse I am—Err… Like, I said I’d meet Connor,’ she winced apologetically. ‘I know I should’ve said… you probably assumed, quite rightly that—’
‘Stop, Em.’ I put my hand out and she paused. ‘Honestly, you seeing Connor tonight is no problem. I’d say if it was – I really would.’
‘Would you, though? You look a bit teary—’
‘Well that was just the shock announcement of you moving to the other side of the world,’ I felt my chin wobble again but managed to halt it and give her a crooked smile. ‘You’re right; it’s months away yet, we’ve got loads of time, and absolutely, I should take the opportunity to visit and go and see my brother.’
‘You sure?’
‘More than,’ I patted anxiously under my eyes. ‘God, what a sight I must be. I bet I’ve gone all mottled.’
She tipped her head on one side and peered at me. ‘Nah, only… um… a bit corned beef-y.’
‘Thanks for the frank assessment,’ I laughed, grabbing my bag and looking for the loo. ‘I’ll go and re-grout the gaps. Watch that lot, will you?’
I left my briefcase and coat on the seat and headed for the Ladies’, squeezing past a couple of guys in suits, muttering the usual sorry, sorry, hoping they wouldn’t notice my wrecked face, and then got the weird feeling I was being watched.
There was a man leaning against the bar. He caught my eye and looked away shocked, as if he knew me. I instinctively paused: lop-sided face, slanted mouth, long nose. Did I know him? Then I realised, awkwardly, that I didn’t. How embarrassing! I felt his darting gaze as I leaned into the door to make a swift exit.
Shunting the lock across, I sank down onto the toilet seat and rested my head against the paper dispenser. Its cool metal edge dug into my temple: hard and soothing. Why the hell was I so rattled? It wasn’t just Emma, or Simon bloody Gould, it was being back in this town: this whole damn area. I’d watched all those names – Bramham, Tadcaster, Towton – on the road signs skimming by the taxi window, bringing back places I didn’t want to remember, things I’d tried so hard to forget, but his place wasn’t going to let me. It had to remind me of all the crosses I was supposed to bear, the weight of them dragging me down further and further, forcing me to see myself and the people I thought I’d left behind.
People like my mother.
The sadness of her face the day I left. The shame of my behaviour scouring my cheeks into red rawness. How could I have just gone like that? But I knew I had to for my own sanity. I made the telephone calls to home the same time every week: the duty ones, asking the right questions and carefully listening to the answers, offering up all the right noises, but giving nothing of myself. But now here I was – having to see her and face it all again.
And then there was Louise. Mustn’t forget Louise. Only five years older but it always felt like fifty. My big sister with that look plastered on her face, the ‘soyouthinkyoucanwaltzinherewithyourfancyclothesandposhaccentdoyou?’ expression. My big sister, who finely combed through every conversation for details to be brought up months or maybe even years later – looking for those deliberate intonations and slights to prove what a truly selfish, self-absorbed bitch of a daughter I really was.
What would I say to either of them? That I’m sorry, Lou, for leaving you to deal with everything. And I’m sorry, Mam, for abandoning you, even though you haven’t got a fucking clue who I am now and you were never really interested in me in the first place…
I pushed the hair out of my eyes and sat up straight. None of it made one hoot of difference. I couldn’t have stayed, anyway. There was no option. I had to leave Yorkshire. I had no choice.
Dan had seen to that.
Threading my way self-consciously back through the bar, I made my way back to my seat, glancing once to see if the bloke was still there. He wasn’t. I was almost disappointed. No one had taken a second look at me in a very long time. Emma was sitting at the table trying to put her lipstick on using a chrome salt cellar as a mirror.
‘Jesus, Em!’
‘What?’ She smacked her lips together decisively. ‘Oh, you look brighter! Less corned beef, more ham on the bone.’
I poked my tongue out at her, snatching a quick look back at the bar as I sat down.
‘Someone caught your eye?’ she squinted playfully.
‘No.’ I flicked my hair back. ‘I just went to the loo, that’s all.’ I picked up my drink and made a ‘cheers’ motion. ‘To new beginnings, then?’ I grinned and she chinked her glass against mine and grinned back.
‘You could do with someone in your life again, you know.’
‘Could I?’ I took a sip, aware that she was studying me. ‘I feel far too old for all that.’
‘You’re only thirty-bloody-four!’ she barked a laugh like a seal. ‘There’s plenty of men about! They’re a bit like shoes: you buy a pair, find they’re a bit tight, or too loose, or go saggy after a while…’
I laughed. ‘Yeah, alright! I get the picture, it’s just a bit visual!’
‘So you go and get more, don’t you? Forget that last bloke, what was his name again… Dan, wasn’t it? Dan, Dan, the complicated man.’ She shook her head. ‘We’ve all had one of those. They appear to be one kind of person but actually they’re another.’