The rich aromas of grilled meat and fried onions hit me as I walk in. The only time I ever come here is when I’m with the children, and without them it’s a lonely business; the bright colours and jolly paintings jar. I buy a burger, fries and a Coke, find a table away from the window and sit down with my back to the room.
I occasionally bring the children for their supper when I’m feeling lazy, but I haven’t been in months. I don’t have anything generally; just a cup of tea and the slices of mustard-smeared gherkin I’ve peeled off their hamburgers. I look around and I see us as we were: me and Tom with our polystyrene mugs; Josh in his high chair smearing ketchup on the table; Emily and Polly engrossed in the contents of their Happy Meal boxes. The woman that is me steals one of Emily’s chips and earns a telling off and Polly offers one of hers and insists on putting it in my mouth herself, like she’s posting a letter. Josh bangs the table with his fists, demanding attention. The image fades and I turn back to face the wall. We were happy once upon a time.
Where am I going to go?
I eat the last few cooling French fries, finish my Coke and contemplate spending the night in the car. It’s easily big enough, but I reject the idea as too horrible and decide, with misgivings, to try Jenny. I don’t know what else to do. I put my rubbish on the tray and take it to the bin and as I turn the doors open and David North walks in. He has his daughter with him. Not Hellie though, thank God.
David breaks into a smile but it leaves me cold. Beside him, Astrid clutches his hand and gazes up at me.
‘It’s Miss Vicky,’ Astrid says, as if I’m an interesting freak, which, out of the context she knows, I suppose I am.
‘Hello, Astrid. Have you had a lovely holiday?’ I avoid David’s scrutiny but I can feel his eyes burning my face.
‘How are you?’ he says.
‘I’m good. I was just leaving.’ I edge past him but he leans forward so that only I can hear what he says. His warm breath touches my cheek.
‘You look gorgeous.’
I frown at him. Not only is it highly inappropriate, but I have never felt less gorgeous. Under my jacket sweat prickles between my shoulder blades. I don’t want to talk to him at all, and certainly not with his daughter staring at us. He is oblivious to my discomfort, eager only for a flirtation. I mean nothing to him. I broke my marriage for a man to whom I was merely one in a million females to take his fancy.
I smile at Astrid, ask her which school she’s going on to, and say goodbye.
‘I can’t meet you, darling,’ Amber says. ‘I’m working. Can you get a taxi?’
She holds the phone between her shoulder and her jaw while she pulls open a drawer and searches for her prettiest underwear. Her body is still warm from the bath and fragrant with scented moisturizer.
‘Of course I can.’
Robert is disappointed but she’s beyond caring. ‘OK then.’
‘I just thought it might be nice. I’ve got some good news. I won the contract.’
‘Really?’ She pushes the drawer in and holds the phone properly, standing naked in front of the mirror. ‘That’s fantastic. Is there much money in it?’
He laughs. ‘Yes. I drove a hard bargain.’
‘How much?’
‘Let’s just say, getting a deposit together is no longer a concern. The upfront money will be in my bank account by Monday morning.’ He names a figure so wildly far from what she was expecting that she sits down, stunned. After all that, he’s done it. Working quietly and patiently in his cramped home office, he’s pulled it off. She feels bad that she never had faith in him. But it’s too little, too late. Things have moved on, decisions have been made.
‘Amber? Love? Are you still there?’
‘Yes.’ She feels a sudden urge to giggle.
‘I thought I lost you.’ He laughs and she cringes.
‘Look, Robert, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow. And well done. You deserve a break.’ She’s genuinely delighted for him. It’ll help soften the blow.
‘We both do,’ he says. ‘It’s for us.’
‘Yes, of course.’
She kisses him down the phone and hangs up. She looks around at the shoddy room with its magnolia wallpaper and oatmeal carpet. This flat has been home for six years but she feels no emotion towards it; not even hate any more. The trouble is, she can imagine herself moving, but not with Robert. She’s fond of him and grateful. He saved her but he can’t expect to keep her for ever, and in her heart she knows he never has.
She chooses a perfume and sprays it into the air then walks through the mist. Her life is about to change. She stares at herself, at her delicate shoulders and collarbones, at her toned arms and flat stomach, her long legs. Even good men have a limit to the amount of provocation they can resist. This is the endgame. After tonight, Vicky’s perfect life will be gone and Maggie will see the devastation she’s caused. It isn’t Katya’s fault this has happened. None of it is. Katya is just a child in search of protection and love. Katya wouldn’t have to take it if it had been given to her honestly. Katya will steal what she wants through the back door, through Tom and his weakness. His lust. And Amber will make him love her because that’s what she does best.
‘Darling, you’re shivering,’ Jenny says. ‘Come into the kitchen. I’ll make you a hot drink. You can tell me what’s happened.’
I explain as best I can, following her inside and taking off my coat. I hang it over the back of a chair and stand behind it, not sure whether or not to sit. She switches on the kettle then asks if I’d prefer something alcoholic.
My overenthusiastic, ‘Yes please!’ earns a raised eyebrow.
‘Jenny, I am so sorry to do this to you, but could I stay with you tonight? I wouldn’t ask unless I was really desperate.’
She doesn’t answer immediately. This is a different Jenny, not the chatty mum, but the professional who knows how effective silence can be in eliciting confidences. It feels as though she’s tunnelling inside my psyche, winkling things out of me that I never thought I would divulge. It would be unnerving if she wasn’t such a kind person. She pours me a generous glass of wine.
‘Listen, don’t worry. I know it’s asking too much. I’ll go to a hotel.’
She must have read the despair on my face because she takes my bag out of my hand and puts it back down at my feet. ‘Don’t be silly. Of course you can stay. Goodness, it’s eight o’clock. I’d better say goodnight to the girls.’
‘The girls?’
‘Yes, Sophie Collins is sleeping over. I’ll be down in a sec. Go and talk to Simon.’
I don’t because, at that moment, Amber rings. I wait before I pick up, then jam my finger on the accept icon.
‘I don’t know what came over me,’ she says. ‘I am so sorry, Vicky. Please forgive me.’
‘What are you talking about?’