“I don’t know.” I shrugged, looking at the floor. My grandmother put her hands on my cheeks and lifted my face so that my eyes met hers.
“Tell me, nuh?” she insisted.
“I don’t know. I feel weird.” I moved her hands from my face.
“Have you eaten?” she asked, pursing her lips.
“I’m not hungry,” I told her, moving from the porch into the house.
“I didn’t say are you hungry, I said have you eaten?” My grandmother’s lips were tighter, but still she managed to speak.
“No, I can’t. Can I just go to sleep?” I said, going to walk up the stairs.
“Food first. I put some fish fingers on for you,” my grandmother told me, and pointed toward the kitchen. Food Is Love is my family’s unofficial motto. Pity that the motto is also Have You Put on Weight?
My grandmother and I sat in the kitchen, Diana and Maggie’s chattering in the living room occasionally broken up by my granddad begging that they “stop being so loud. Please!” and my grandmother barking, “Stop being miserable, let them live!” through the wall.
As I forced fish fingers and soggy toast down, I wondered if I should tell her about what had happened with Tom. I couldn’t bring myself to offer the information, so decided to wait until she brought it up. I was surprised she hadn’t asked already.
Diana came in to rummage for food, which prompted my grandmother to jump up and start preparing her a three-course meal, so I took the opportunity to sneak upstairs. Needing to watch something for distraction, I pulled my laptop out of my rucksack, and swore as the contents of the bag came out with it.
“Do. Not. Swear. Me teach you fi swear?” My grandmother had crept up the stairs.
“No, sorry. Sorry for making a mess,” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Get into bed. Here’s a hot water bottle, and here’s your nightie. I washed it for you.” She handed me a white calf-length nightgown speckled with lavender flowers. Lace frills overwhelmed the bust and sleeves.
I removed my clothes shakily and put it on as she picked up the various bits of crap that I carry around daily from the floor.
“What’s this?” she asked, unfolding a piece of paper.
I leaped over to her and grabbed it out of her hand. “Nothing.”
She looked at me and pursed her lips.
“Get some rest. You’ll feel better in the morning.” She turned the light off and left me standing in the dark.
“I won’t sleep, it’s nine o’clock!” I called out after her, getting into bed and hugging the hot water bottle to my stomach.
It’s over, I thought, Tom’s words bouncing around my brain. How can it be over? I fell asleep almost immediately.
* * *
As always, at my grandmother’s house, I woke up not knowing where I was, but immediately recognized my surroundings when I saw the moonlight shining onto a painting of the Virgin Mary on the wall opposite the bed.
THE CORGIS
Queenie
It’s more bad news, corgis
Queenie
Tom has a new girlfriend
Queenie
Turns out he thought we were over all along
Queenie
He said “When you said we should revisit things in three months, I guess I thought you meant we should see how the other is”
Queenie
????
Queenie
And I’ve just been here waiting for NOTHING while he’s been moving on
Queenie
I don’t know how much more of this I can take, you know. What next?
I slid out of bed and wedged my feet into my childhood slippers. I went over to the door and turned the doorknob almost imperceptibly slowly so as to make as little noise as possible.
“Queenie? What’s wrong?” my grandmother shouted, and I jumped out of my skin.
“Nothing, I’m just going for a wee,” I whispered, creeping along the hallway.
“Mind the stairs,” she shouted.
“I’m going in the opposite direction to the stairs!” I whispered.
“But it’s dark,” she replied. I wonder how much sleep my granddad gets on average? I sat on the toilet, feeling for the toilet paper in the dark.
“Do you feel better?” My grandmother turned the light on. I squinted and covered my eyes.
“I don’t know, it’s the middle of the night. Go back to sleep, Grandma!”
“Do you think I sleep, with all of you to worry about? I don’t think I’ve put my head on the pillow and slept a full night since 1950.”
I got back into bed, my grandmother shuffling downstairs to get me some water. She came back up and put a glass on the bedside table.
“Move over.” She climbed in next to me and I turned to face her, putting my head on her chest. She wasn’t as plump as she used to be. She felt smaller, frail, underneath the weight of my head, so I lifted it and hovered it slightly above, letting my neck take the strain.
“You think I can’t take your weight? I carried you when you were a baby, and I could carry you now. Try to sleep, Queenie.”
chapter
TWENTY
THE CORGIS
Kyazike
What do you mean, he’s got a girlfriend?
Queenie
I mean I went back to our old flat and he was there with his new girlfriend, he was topless, she’s so small she was drowning in nothing but one of his T-shirts
Queenie
And he literally said the words “Anna is my girlfriend” to me
Kyazike
Excuse me? How has he already got a whole girlfriend with official labels? It ain’t been that long?
Darcy
Oh, Queenie, I’m so sorry xxxx
Darcy
Why didn’t he tell you before you went there and found out?
Queenie
I’ve been trying to recall our last conversation? I’m sure it wasn’t clear that we’d broken up? I’m SURE of it
Queenie
What if I just heard what I wanted to?
Kyazike
Nah, he should have made it clear, fam. BUT at least this means you haven’t been cheating on him these last few months
Queenie
I mean, I guess? Thanks, Kyazike
Kyazike
What’s she like? She a mzungu?
Darcy
Sorry Kyazike; I looked that up on Urban Dictionary but it’s not there . . .
Kyazike
LOL, mzungu is my language. It means white girl
Darcy
Thanks! I should have been able to figure that one out
Queenie
Course it’s a white girl. But we knew it was going to be, didn’t we
Kyazike
Fam. We knew
* * *
As Darcy and I stood in the kitchen, the fridge beeped angrily, louder than ever, and the neon light flickered dramatically.
“I looked her up on the way home,” I said, showing Darcy pictures of “Anna” on my phone. “I knew I recognized her. Look, she works in his office.” I navigated the girl’s profile, showing Darcy bits of information I’d seen so much that I’d memorized. “I fucking told him he needed a white girlfriend. Just never thought he’d get one WHEN WE WERE ON A BREAK.”
“I’ve just had a thought. Do you think that they were—” Darcy said, her hand flying up to her mouth.
“If you’re going to suggest that they were seeing each other before we broke up, then please don’t.” I swallowed down rising dread. “I think you know that I can’t handle that in my current state.”
“Well, at least if that were the case, I guess it would mean that you could start properly hating him. And hating someone is a vital stage when it comes to getting over them.” Seriously, there was nothing Darcy couldn’t find a solution for.
“Whatever,” I said, putting my phone away. I’d looked at enough pictures of Anna to paint her from memory. “I need to suppress that for now. Got a meeting with Chuck.” I left the kitchen and went over to Chuck’s desk, feeling very managerial when I asked him to show me his progress.
“Okay, so, this new layout,” he started eagerly. “I’ve printed all of the examples that you’ve sent me and thought we could talk them through? Right, so—”
My phone buzzed, and when I pulled it out to look saw the beginning of a message from Cassandra flash up on the screen.
Cassandra
If I say we can talk about it this evening, will you st
I walked back to my desk, sat down, and opened the text.
Cassandra
If I say we can talk about it this evening, will you stop sending me messages? It’s getting tiresome, you chasing me.