‘Enough! I’m not discussing this fanciful idea any further. Now, was there anything you wanted or did you ring up just to have another argument?’
‘I wanted to speak to Luke,’ I say, sensing I will get no further on the subject of Patrick tonight.
‘Luke’s taken the girls for their swimming lessons. Of course, if you were at home you’d know that,’ she says, with no sign of the frost thawing. ‘Hold on a moment, Alice is saying something.’ I hear muffled voices and guess Mum has put her hand over the receiver. She comes back after a moment. ‘Alice wants to speak to you. I’ll pass you over.’
I try to protest that Alice, or rather Martha, is the last person I want to speak to, but the receiver exchanges hands before I can speak and then I hear Martha.
‘Hello, Clare,’ she says. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m fine,’ I say. ‘Look, I’m quite busy, did you want anything important?’ My skin tingles, as if a thousand ants are making their way around my body. I close my eyes and focus my mind, throwing away thoughts of my sister that may betray me.
‘Mum says you’re in America,’ says Martha. I can hear the acoustics change and assume Martha is moving away from the kitchen, or wherever she took the call, to find a more private space, away from Mum. The sound of a door closing confirms this.
‘That’s right,’ I say. I can take this conversation one of two ways. I opt for keeping up the pretence for now. I don’t want this all to come to a head in the UK while I’m stuck over here in the States. ‘I was going to stay with a friend up in Cambridgeshire, but changed my mind at the last minute.’ I keep the facts to a minimum.
‘Cool. Where exactly are you? Anywhere near my neighbourhood?’ There’s a light-hearted tone to her words, but I suspect this is false. Martha is wary.
‘No. No. I’m in New York.’ I close my eyes and hope Martha doesn’t notice how quiet it is. ‘I’m in my hotel room at the moment,’ I add to counter the lack of background noise of a busy city.
‘Is that so?’ she says. ‘Of course, if you were in Florida, I’d be wondering who you were talking to. Whether you were hanging out at any of the places I used to. Talking to my friends and all.’ She gives a little laugh. And I mean little.
I return the laugh. ‘Oh yeah, I could, couldn’t I? And that wouldn’t do at all.’
‘No, that wouldn’t. But then, you shouldn’t believe everything everyone says. You, of all people, should know that,’ says Martha. There’s an awkward pause and I can feel the tension crackle up and down the line between us. ‘Knowledge is a dangerous thing.’
‘Knowledge is power,’ I say.
‘I’m also of the mind that ignorance is bliss,’ she retorts, her voice dropping an octave, her words slower as each one is emphasised. ‘That way no one gets hurt.’
‘That’s true. Anyway, I need to get on, got some legal stuff for work to check.’
‘Sure, I wouldn’t wanna keep you from your work.’
‘See you Wednesday.’
‘I’ll look forward to it. You can tell me all about your trip.’
‘Yeah. Sure.’ I hang up and close my eyes for a moment, recalling the conversation with all its subtext. It does nothing to settle my already-fragile nerves. I need to get home. I need to protect my family – I’m not entirely sure what from. I can’t pin it down to one thing or one word, all I know is that they are surrounded by lies and deceit.
An hour later, my phone rings and I’m sure it is Luke. However, Leonard’s name is on the screen.
‘Hello, Leonard. Everything all right?’ I find myself asking this question more and more often. Every time the phone rings, I think something has happened. I am becoming a nervous wreck.
‘No. Everything is not all right. When I said take gardening leave, I meant stay at home with your family. Get to know your sister and sort your marriage out. I didn’t mean jet off to America.’
‘Hello to you too. Yes, I’m fine. Thanks for asking. Oh, there was something you wanted to chat about, was there?’ I can’t help myself. Leonard has all the subtlety of a Chieftain tank at times and thinks he can ride straight over me. I swear he forgets I’m a grown woman. An adult. A business partner.
‘Didn’t realise I had to do the polite chit-chat with you, Clare,’ comes the retort, which has the tiniest thread of attrition.
‘And while I’m at it, since when did I have to answer to you as to what I choose to do with my spare time? Spare time that I didn’t want, I might add. Either I’m working and am accountable for my hours or I’m on gardening leave and can do as I bloody well please.’ I feel quite proud of myself for standing up to Leonard.
‘Well, that’s me told,’ he says. I imagine him looking rather startled at the telephone for a moment. ‘So, are you okay?’
‘Yes, I’m fine, thank you,’ I say, the indignation leaving me and experiencing genuine appreciation of the obvious concern in his voice.
‘What exactly are you doing in America?’
‘I needed to sort a few things out. Please don’t worry. I’m flying home tomorrow night. How did you know I was here, anyway?’