‘Thanks.’ She pulls off her coat and hangs it over the end of the banister. ‘So where’s Vicky?’
‘I haven’t got a clue. Her mobile’s switched off.’
‘That’s odd,’ she says to his back. ‘I’m really sorry I didn’t get the message.’
Tom switches the kettle on and turns round. ‘It’s not your fault. You were working, weren’t you? You wouldn’t have been able to come anyway.’
She has always been nervous on her own with Tom but until now she’s never analysed it. But, she muses, there’s always been an undercurrent. She puts her hands on the table in front of her and clasps them.
‘Didn’t she tell you where she was going today?’ The kettle clicks and he pours boiling water over the teabags, adds milk and stirs.
What is she supposed to say? She and Vicky never discussed this scenario. ‘No, but I was in such a rush to get to work this morning we didn’t have a chance to chat. How mysterious though.’ She adds. ‘Perhaps she’s got a lover.’ It’s pure mischief, she knows that, but no more than Vicky deserves.
‘Yeah, right.’
‘What? You don’t think she’s attractive enough?’
She’s teasing but he doesn’t pick her up on it. He’s obviously not in the mood. He puts the tea in front of her. She doesn’t really want it but at least it’s something to do with her hands. She steals a glance at his face and tries to ignore her bolting pulse.
‘I expect she’ll be back soon. She’s—’
‘Has she told you about the social workers?’ he interrupts.
The sense of possibility evaporates and she answers smoothly, disappointed. ‘Yes, she has. It must have been horrible.’
‘I don’t understand it. Do you think people heard what had happened to Josh and wanted to make trouble?’
‘I don’t know. I expect it was motivated by jealousy. These things usually are.’ She gives a small sigh. ‘I just worry …’
He glances at her. ‘About what?’
‘Well, about what it might do to Vicky’s state of mind. I’m worried she might have a breakdown if she goes on like this.’
‘A breakdown?’ He looks horrified.
‘Sorry, I’m probably going way over the top. But she is fragile at the moment.’
He buries his fingers in his hair and groans. ‘I’m feeling pretty fucking fragile myself.’
Tennyson Road at one o’clock is a busy hub of mothers, prams and small dogs. There’s a café called Boiled Eggs and Soldiers about halfway down and when I walk past its windows I see Jenny inside with two other women. They are engrossed in their conversation but as I hesitate Jenny catches sight of me and gestures at me to join them. I smile and shake my head.
The first thing I see when I unlock the front door is Polly’s school bag and coat in a heap at the bottom of the stairs and, next to them, Tom’s motorbike helmet. I freeze, confused, my mind trying to put two and two together and finally, painfully, realizing that I have a problem. In the kitchen my husband and best friend are sitting at the table, Josh on the floor, playing at Amber’s feet. He crawls over, stretching his arms towards me and bouncing on his bottom.
‘You’re back,’ Amber says.
‘What’s happened?’ I pick Josh up and shush him. ‘Where’s Polly? And Magda? She should be here.’
‘Polly’s in bed,’ Tom says. He picks up his keys, jangling them between his fingers.
‘Well, is she all right?’ I start to go upstairs but he grabs my hand.
‘Magda had to leave an hour ago. Where have you been?’
I ignore the question. ‘She said she could do until one thirty. What do you mean, she had to leave?’
‘She isn’t well either,’ Amber says. ‘She hasn’t completely kicked that bug and it looks like she may have given it to Polly. I’m so sorry I didn’t get the message in time to stop them calling Tom, but I had my phone on silent. I came as soon as I could. I was going to take over so Tom can get back to work, but you’re here now.’
I listen to all this with bemusement. Tom is anxious to leave and obviously irritated. I pick his helmet up and come to the door with him.
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘I was in a meeting, Vicky. You didn’t tell me you were going out.’
‘It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.’ I cannot think of an excuse. I pass him the helmet and hope he won’t press the point.
He does. ‘So where were you?’
‘I went to Southbank to see the Barbara Hepworth exhibition. Then I went for a walk along the river. I needed to get out of the house.’
He looks puzzled. ‘Right. I’ll see you later.’
I go back in to find Amber pulling on her jacket.
‘You don’t have to go straight away, do you? Stay and have some lunch.’
I run up to Polly but she’s sound asleep. I lay the back of my hand against her forehead. Her teddy has fallen off the bed so I tuck him under her arm and kiss her hot cheeks, then leave the door open in case she wakes.
I heat up some shop-bought carrot-and-parsnip soup and pour it into bowls. Amber saws a couple of slices of bread from the loaf, butters them and arranges them on plates. We sit opposite each other with the salt and pepper pots between us.
I pick up my spoon and set it down again. I’ve lost my appetite. ‘I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I?’
‘That’s your perception. You inconvenienced Tom, but he doesn’t know anything. You must hold it together, Vicky. He’s starting to worry about you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s worried you’re too fragile.’
‘He said that?’ I look her straight in the eye and she recoils. I didn’t mean to sound combative, but I absolutely hate the idea of the two of them discussing my sanity over a cosy cup of tea in my kitchen. ‘Does he mean mentally or physically?’
She doesn’t respond at first so I snap at her. ‘Amber!’
‘Oh God, Vicky, I don’t know. It wasn’t exactly a conversation I was comfortable having with him.’
‘Was that what you were talking about when I came in?’
‘No. He was telling me about the visit from Child Protection. He’s really cut up about it, isn’t he? And I’m not surprised. I couldn’t bear to have someone come into my house and make those ugly insinuations.’
When I flinch she reaches over and pats my hand. ‘Come on. Cheer up. No one knows about it. Tell me how it went with Mr Lover-man.’
‘Fine. We said goodbye and it was all very civilized. He’s a lovely guy.’
‘And what about you?’
I lean my head back and stare up through the windows as a crow flies over the house. ‘I don’t know. I’m glad I did it; it would have been like leaving an open sore if I hadn’t seen him, but it was rough. The right decision though. Thank you for persuading me.’
22
Easter Holidays Saturday, 27 March 2010