‘It’s okay, Mum.’ Ella flashes me a look. ‘She’s not bothering me.’
‘What did she want then?’ She crosses her arms and purses her lips together, waiting for an answer.
‘To thank me for dropping off Charlotte’s mobile.’
What? I look at her in surprise. She was the one who put the phone through our front door?
‘Is that so?’
‘Yes,’ I look back at Judy. ‘It was very kind of Ella and the least I could do was thank her in person, seeing as I was in the area anyway.’
Judy uncrosses her arms, rocks back on a stiletto heel and looks me up and down. ‘You’ll be going now then?’
Ella nods, ever so slightly. She’s begging me not to ask any more questions. To go quietly.
‘I’m going. Nice to see you again, Judy. Ella.’
The mobile phone issue will have to wait. There’s somewhere I need to go first.
Friday 8th June 1991
Jess, the bar manager, rang me on Wednesday night to ask whether I was over my ‘flu’ yet and hinted, without actually spelling it out, that if I didn’t make it into work on Thursday I’d lose my job.
I had no choice but to go in. What little savings I had are long gone and my rent’s due next week and I’m not sure how I’m going to pay it.
My first shift started badly – I dropped a bottle of wine, snapped an optic and overflowed the drip tray when I was changing the bitter – but it was only 6.30 p.m. and the bar was empty and Jess had gone up to the office to work on the accounts so there were no witnesses to my ineptitude. I kept glancing towards the door. James only ever came into the bar on a Sunday and, according to Steve, he hadn’t done that for at least a month so why I was so terrified he’d walk in, I don’t know.
But then he did.
It was half past eight. The interval had ended fifteen minutes earlier and I was clearing glasses and ashtrays from the tables. He didn’t notice me at first, he was too deep in conversation with Maggie, the Abberley Players director, her arm looped through his, but then, as they approached the bar, he glanced up and our eyes met. The colour drained from his face and Maggie, who was in full flow, stopped talking and looked to see what had startled him. Her face fell when she saw me and she pulled on James’s arm, stood on tiptoes and hissed into his ear. Her voice was low but I caught the words ‘go somewhere else’. James put a hand on her shoulder and, for a second, I thought he was going to angle her out of the bar but then he glanced at me, patted Maggie on the shoulder and headed towards a table at the far end of the room.
I ducked down and clanked a few glasses around in the dishwasher.
‘Hello, Susan.’
I looked up, smiled. ‘Maggie.’
‘We haven’t seen you for a while.’
‘No,’ I had to fight the urge to glance over at James. ‘I haven’t been well.’
‘Oh dear.’ It was a good job she was a director and not an actor because her attempt at sincerity was as real as the silk fern in the corner of the room. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
I was about to ask how she was, whether they’d decided on the next play yet and when she’d want me in to measure up when she said—
‘Did you get my answerphone message?’
I shook my head. She hadn’t rung me once since James and I had split up.
‘Really?’ She faked surprise. ‘That is strange. I could have sworn I had the right number. Anyway, sorry again that we won’t be using you for the costumes any more but a friend of mine recommended this wonderful warehouse near Croydon where they stock a lot of ex-BBC wardrobe. Renting them works out a hell of a lot cheaper than making them from scratch. Anyway,’ her eyes flicked from mine to the fridge behind me, ‘cheers for all your help. You were fabulous. A bottle of Chardonnay and two glasses please.’
The sound of Maggie’s tinkling giggle and James’s low rumbling laughter filled the room and I ran from the room and fled to the ladies’ loo in the foyer. I bowled into a cubicle, certain I was about to be sick and bent over the toilet. Other than a few dry retches, nothing came out. I stayed there for a couple more minutes then, terrified that Jess would return to the bar and find me missing, I checked my reflection in the mirror, patted my cheeks with toilet paper and opened the door to the foyer. Maggie might have taken my unpaid job away from me but I was buggered if I was going to let her take away the one that paid my rent and—
‘Ooof.’ I smacked straight into something tall and solid.
‘I’m sorr …’ The words dried in my mouth as James gazed down at me. His hands were on my shoulders from where he’d caught me.
‘Are you okay?’ His brow was knitted with worry, his voice soft with concern. ‘I saw you run out and I …’ He put a hand to his forehead. ‘Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking coming after you. I’m not your boyfriend anymore, I shouldn’t care.’ He turned to go.
He made it as far as the bar door then turned back.
‘No, fuck it.’ He put his hands on my shoulders again and craned his neck to look down at me. ‘I’ve missed you, Suzy. I’ve missed you like I’ve missed a part of me. Like my shadow had disappeared, or my arm or my heart. I tried everything to stop myself from missing you. I tried raging against you, blaming you, cursing you and hating you but none of those things worked,’ he thumped at his chest with his closed fist. ‘Not a day has gone by where I haven’t regretted what happened. I hate myself. Actually hate myself for hurting you like that but I had to do it, Suzy. When you looked at me in the doorway of your flat I knew it was time to leave. There was no light in your eyes anymore, no love. You looked miserable and I knew it was because of me. That’s why I left you, so you could be happy again.’