Our House(92)

Bram, Word document

At Gatwick, I bought a return ticket to Geneva with cash. (My thinking: a return is less suspicious than a single. On the other hand, is cash more suspicious than card? Then: neither is suspicious. Millions of people fly out of here every week and airport staff have seen every last quirk of traveller behaviour. Get a grip, Bram.)

I used the self checkin, got through passport control without any trouble, and bought a mix of Swiss currency and euros with the cash I’d amassed.

With no time left for self-doubt, I proceeded to the gate.


‘Fi’s Story’ > 02:47:37

As it turned out, it was I who got the pesky work call, when we were back in our room after breakfast gathering a few things for a guided tour of Winchester College.

‘Where’s the Spirals brief for the agency?’ Clara asked, her degree of panic suggesting it might have been building for some time.

I frowned. ‘Didn’t you send it to them yesterday?’

‘No, they’ve asked for a briefing in person and we scheduled it for this afternoon. But it’s not on the server. I’ve had IT down to look and they can’t find it anywhere.’

Calling me was her last resort, plainly. I saw exactly what was going on here. In my absence, she’d sensed an opportunity to present the work as her own. (Yes, irritating, but if you’re good at your job, you have no need to feel threatened.)

‘Don’t worry, it’s on my hard drive at home. I’ll see if I can get it sent over to you.’

‘We really need it this morning, Fi. Early afternoon at the latest. The meeting’s at three.’

‘Three?’ A crazy slot to have agreed for a briefing, last thing on a Friday. I did not point out that she was a little slow in noticing the file’s absence – not to mention in rehearsing her presentation. I hadn’t worked on it since Tuesday evening.

‘Let me call you back. Meanwhile, have another hunt. I might have used a different file name.’

‘What is it?’ Toby asked, glancing up from his own phone.

‘Just a presentation I must have forgotten to put on the work server before I left. It’s on my laptop at home. Clara’s only just noticed.’

‘Can’t she wait till Monday?’

‘No, she’s presenting it today. Not to worry, my neighbour Kirsty’s got keys to the house so I’ll ask her to find it. I’m just trying to think where I left it. Maybe in my bedroom . . .’

‘Why not ask Bram?’ Toby suggested. ‘Didn’t you say he was working from home today so he can pick the boys up from school?’

‘That’s true.’ I dismissed uneasy thoughts of the last time Bram had been granted access to my bedroom and dialled his number. ‘How weird, it’s saying his phone’s out of service.’

‘Really? That’s not very helpful, is it?’

‘Let me try Kirsty. Otherwise I might have to head back a bit early.’

Toby watched with dismay as I scrolled for Kirsty’s number. It was flattering that he wanted me to stay, to eke out our time together. You know, there were many things I was enjoying about the sapling relationship, but the one that sprang to mind there and then was control. Balance. I was the one cutting short the break, I was the one deciding what came first – in this case my duty to my colleagues. And, yes, it did cross my mind that I was also the one who had strayed, but it wasn’t as if we had sworn exclusivity, was it? The point is it was all in glorious contrast to the uncertainty I’d felt during those last couple of years with Bram. It made me optimistic for our future, hopeful that we would be exclusive.

‘Kirsty? Hi, darling, are you at home by any chance? Could you do me a favour and use the spare key to pop into my place? What I need is – oh, really? Okay. No problem. I’ll see you later.’ I turned to Toby, frowning. ‘She says Bram asked her for the keys earlier in the week. He’d lost his, apparently. He didn’t tell me that, surprise, surprise.’

‘Fool,’ Toby said, with feeling.

‘I know. This is the kind of thing that drives me nuts. I know it was him who lost those car keys.’ Remembering the antidepressants, I curtailed further criticism; perhaps the medication had impaired Bram’s memory? (Well, if he was at home that afternoon when I returned, it would be the perfect opportunity to broach the subject.) ‘I’m sorry, but it looks like I’ll have to shoot off early and save the day.’

‘Are you sure your laptop’s not at the flat?’ Toby said.

‘What difference does it make?’ I’d noticed that since the assault he often asked about the bird’s nest logistics, presumably wary of bumping into the Neanderthal ex again. ‘There’s no need for you to come with me. If you don’t fancy the college tour, we’ve got that table booked for lunch, you could still go? Then head back in time for your drinks thing.’

He surprised me then by crossing the room to kiss me. ‘At least stay a bit longer,’ he murmured, his fingers in my hair.

‘It’s already ten o’clock, I really can’t.’

‘Come on, what’s twenty minutes?’

When I finally made my exit, the taxi waiting to take me to the station, he kissed me again with such feeling the cabbie averted his eyes.

‘How long does the train take?’ he asked, finally releasing me.