someone I don’t trust – to let myself take it in. Nevertheless, questions bombard me at every turn.
Was it a full-blown affair or just the once? Do I know him? When did it start? Do you love him?
I can’t face them–not yet.
Alexa is checking her watch, looking like I’m wasting her time. I have to remember that her hostility comes from a desire to protect you, her younger sister. She’s been like a hissingsnake from the moment I came into your life. When we left London, she waited six months and, lo and behold, she found a ‘nice little flat’ in Portsmouth and ended up sixteen miles away.
‘The argument,’ I say, attempting to re-engage her. ‘Do you know what it was about?’
‘Dad. Mum’s treating him like a helpless child.’
‘Is that all?’
She shrugs. ‘Yes.’
‘Has Diane been in touch with you since yesterday?’
‘Not personally – look here,’ she taps the screen, ‘she says she’s
taking time out
,’ she enunciates each syllable as if I’m mentally impaired. ‘She wants space – from everything, by the looks of it. She’ll get back to us when she’s ready.’
I’m taking in what she’s just said. ‘You said –
not personally
.’
‘She’s posted a few bits on Facebook and Twitter – all very bland – she doesn’t say where she is.’
‘Really? Why didn’t you tell me?’ I pat my pockets. It hasn’t occurred to me that you might get in touch in such an impersonal way. ‘I didn’t check. What did she put? What did she say?’ I’m holding my phone, but don’t know how to find what you’ve posted. I don’t use social media.
‘Like I say, just generic stuff. About the dog you’re looking after. A film. Nothing important.’
Getting information from her is like trying to open a can of soup with my fingernails. ‘Has she said anything else to you, recently?’
‘About the pregnancy?’
‘Or about – anything else?’
‘I didn’t know she’d conceived – for a start.
She
didn’t know.’
‘What about other things – has she mentioned…anything bothering her?’ I really want to know if they’ve discussed some other man, but I daren’t venture into that territory just yet. I’m still reeling after the phone call. I don’t know how I’ll react if Alexa admits you’ve been seeing someone for months. Nevertheless, my question could lead there and I can’t imagine Alexa has any desire to protect me.
‘No – she hasn’t said anything.’ I’m still hovering over her as she remains seated at the small round table, sipping her drink. I didn’t get around to buying one for myself and now it feels too late. An onlooker would assume I’m hassling her and she wants me to leave.
‘Tell me the instant you hear from her.’
‘The same goes for you,’ she says, making it sound like I’ve insulted her.
It seems rude to leave so soon, but it was a mistake to meet here; a place where one would normally sit back, relax and catch up with friends. I never do any of those things when Alexa is around.
On the way back to the cottage, near impossible though it is, I force myself to keep the call from the hospital at arm’s length. I believed you when you said you hadn’t been with anyone else. I wanted my specialist to be wrong and for my infertility not to be absolute. I thought that
must
have been what happened. If I allow the words ‘negative test results’ to sink in, they will blast apart my will to live. Instead, I must stay strong to work out where you’ve gone. I need to think about those few words you’ve left on Alexa’s phone. They’re all we have of you and the only shred of substance I can hang on to:
Sorry – a bit stressed. Taking time out XX
.
Something about the wording doesn’t ring true for me – I’ve never heard you use the phrase
take time out
, for starters. I can’t hear your voice in my head saying it. I try to rationalise my doubt. We’re different people depending on who we’re with; perhaps you use
Was it a full-blown affair or just the once? Do I know him? When did it start? Do you love him?
I can’t face them–not yet.
Alexa is checking her watch, looking like I’m wasting her time. I have to remember that her hostility comes from a desire to protect you, her younger sister. She’s been like a hissingsnake from the moment I came into your life. When we left London, she waited six months and, lo and behold, she found a ‘nice little flat’ in Portsmouth and ended up sixteen miles away.
‘The argument,’ I say, attempting to re-engage her. ‘Do you know what it was about?’
‘Dad. Mum’s treating him like a helpless child.’
‘Is that all?’
She shrugs. ‘Yes.’
‘Has Diane been in touch with you since yesterday?’
‘Not personally – look here,’ she taps the screen, ‘she says she’s
taking time out
,’ she enunciates each syllable as if I’m mentally impaired. ‘She wants space – from everything, by the looks of it. She’ll get back to us when she’s ready.’
I’m taking in what she’s just said. ‘You said –
not personally
.’
‘She’s posted a few bits on Facebook and Twitter – all very bland – she doesn’t say where she is.’
‘Really? Why didn’t you tell me?’ I pat my pockets. It hasn’t occurred to me that you might get in touch in such an impersonal way. ‘I didn’t check. What did she put? What did she say?’ I’m holding my phone, but don’t know how to find what you’ve posted. I don’t use social media.
‘Like I say, just generic stuff. About the dog you’re looking after. A film. Nothing important.’
Getting information from her is like trying to open a can of soup with my fingernails. ‘Has she said anything else to you, recently?’
‘About the pregnancy?’
‘Or about – anything else?’
‘I didn’t know she’d conceived – for a start.
She
didn’t know.’
‘What about other things – has she mentioned…anything bothering her?’ I really want to know if they’ve discussed some other man, but I daren’t venture into that territory just yet. I’m still reeling after the phone call. I don’t know how I’ll react if Alexa admits you’ve been seeing someone for months. Nevertheless, my question could lead there and I can’t imagine Alexa has any desire to protect me.
‘No – she hasn’t said anything.’ I’m still hovering over her as she remains seated at the small round table, sipping her drink. I didn’t get around to buying one for myself and now it feels too late. An onlooker would assume I’m hassling her and she wants me to leave.
‘Tell me the instant you hear from her.’
‘The same goes for you,’ she says, making it sound like I’ve insulted her.
It seems rude to leave so soon, but it was a mistake to meet here; a place where one would normally sit back, relax and catch up with friends. I never do any of those things when Alexa is around.
On the way back to the cottage, near impossible though it is, I force myself to keep the call from the hospital at arm’s length. I believed you when you said you hadn’t been with anyone else. I wanted my specialist to be wrong and for my infertility not to be absolute. I thought that
must
have been what happened. If I allow the words ‘negative test results’ to sink in, they will blast apart my will to live. Instead, I must stay strong to work out where you’ve gone. I need to think about those few words you’ve left on Alexa’s phone. They’re all we have of you and the only shred of substance I can hang on to:
Sorry – a bit stressed. Taking time out XX
.
Something about the wording doesn’t ring true for me – I’ve never heard you use the phrase
take time out
, for starters. I can’t hear your voice in my head saying it. I try to rationalise my doubt. We’re different people depending on who we’re with; perhaps you use
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