The Breakdown(80)

I look at my watch; I have five minutes to decide.

In the end, I decide to meet Rachel. I use the walk there to prepare for every eventuality, that John will be with her, that he won’t be, that Rachel will tell me about her and John, that she won’t say anything about him at all. If she doesn’t, should I tell her my fears about John?

But even to my ears they seem nonsensical, far-fetched.

By the time I arrive, the pub is so busy that it’s just as well Rachel was there an hour earlier or we wouldn’t have got a seat.

‘Couldn’t you have found a quieter table?’ I attempt to joke, because we seem to be surrounded by a huge group of French students.

‘I’ve only just arrived,’ she says, giving me a hug, ‘so we’re lucky to have a table at all.’

I hear the lie and something inside me stirs.

‘I’ll get some drinks,’ I offer. ‘What would you like?’

‘Just a small glass of wine, please, as I’m driving.’

The wait at the bar gives me the chance to work out what I’m going to say when she asks me why I wanted to meet because I no longer need her help in tracking down my silent caller. Unless it isn’t John, unless I’ve The Breakdown





305


taken what the shop assistant told me and have woven


a whole intricate story around it.

‘So, what do you want to chat about?’ she asks once I’ve sat down.

‘Matthew,’ I say.

‘Why, what’s the problem?’

‘No problem, just his birthday coming up. I’d like to do something really special for him. He’s had a lot to put up with recently, one way or another, and I’d like to make it up to him. I just wondered if you had any ideas about what I could do. You’re so good at things like that.’

‘It’s not for another couple of months, is it?’ she frowns.

‘I know, but I’m not exactly good at keeping on top of things at the moment. I thought if you could help me plan something, at least you’d be able to remind me what it is.’

She laughs. ‘All right. What sort of thing were you thinking of? A weekend away, a flight in a hot-air balloon, a sky-diving experience, a cookery course?’

‘Any of those sound great, except perhaps the cookery course,’ I say, and for the next half-hour she comes up with idea after idea, all of which I say yes to because my mind is elsewhere.

‘You’re not going to be able to give him all of them,’

she says, exasperated, ‘although, as money is no option, I suppose you could.’





306


b a paris


‘Well, you’ve certainly given me plenty to think

about,’ I tell her gratefully. ‘What about you? Any news since Sunday?’

‘No, same old,’ she says, pulling a face.

‘You never got round to telling me about the chap

from Siena, you know, the brother.’

‘Alfie.’ She stands up. ‘Sorry, I need the loo, I won’t be long.’

While she’s away, I decide that I’m going to have

to somehow introduce John into the conversation and take it from there. But when she comes back, instead of sitting down she stays standing.

‘You don’t mind if I abandon you, do you?’ she says.

‘It’s just that I’ve got a busy day tomorrow and I need to get home.’

‘No, go ahead,’ I say, surprised that she’s going so soon. ‘I would leave with you but I need a coffee before driving home.’

She stoops and hugs me goodbye. ‘I’ll catch up with you later in the week,’ she promises.

I watch her curiously as she goes, pushing her way

through the throng of French students, because I’ve never known her to leave in such a hurry before. Has she gone to meet John? Maybe he’s waiting for her somewhere, in a different pub. As she reaches the door, a shout goes up from a one of the French students and I realise that she’s trying to call Rachel back.

‘Madame, Madame!’ she cries. But Rachel has gone.

The student begins to grapple with one of the boys next The Breakdown

307

to her and, losing interest, I turn to a passing waitress and ask her to bring me a coffee.

‘Excuse me.’ I look up to see the French girl standing in front of me, a small black phone in her hand. ‘I am sorry but my friend took this from your friend’s bag.’

‘No, that’s not hers,’ I say, looking at the phone. ‘She has an iPhone.’

‘ Si,’ she insists. ‘My friend there—’ she turns and points to the boy she’d been grappling with ‘—he took it from her bag.’

‘Why would he do that?’ I frown.

‘It was a défi, a dare. It was a very bad thing to do, I try to give it back to her but he would not give it to me. But now I have it so I give it to you.’

I look over to the boy she pointed out. He grins back at me and, pressing the palms of his hands together, gives me a little bow.

‘He is very bad, no?’

‘Yes,’ I agree. ‘But I don’t think it belongs to my friend. Maybe he took it from someone else.’