Our Kind of Cruelty(15)

She turned to me and her eyes were sparking. ‘That’s the best present anyone’s ever given me,’ she said.

Angus might be able to buy her more diamonds than I could, but I doubted very much he was as thoughtful as I am. I doubted very much that he even knew her well enough to be as thoughtful as I am.

The days I spent at work were becoming unusually hard and I felt like we were wading through mud towards the finish line. Not completing the deal simply wasn’t an option and I made sure everyone in my team knew as much. Kaitlyn put her head round the door at the end of the day and I looked up and realised most people had gone home already. I glanced at the clock on the computer and was surprised to see it was nearly eight.

‘I’m just about to head off,’ Kaitlyn said. ‘Wondered if you fancied a drink on the way home?’

I opened my mouth to deliver a ready excuse, but was struck by the length of the evening ahead of me. All I would do if I went straight home was stop again at the deli and eat on my own, and the thought seemed suddenly desolate. And Kaitlyn was fine, nice even. ‘OK. Give me ten minutes.’

We took the tube to Clapham and went into a pub on the High Street. Kaitlyn sat at a table and I went to the bar to get us both a pint.

‘Thanks,’ she said, as I sat back down opposite her. I raised my glass to her in mock salute. ‘So, how’s Hector going?’

I rubbed my hands across my face. ‘Slower than I expected.’

‘Yes, I heard you weren’t happy.’

I looked up at her. ‘What do you mean you heard?’

She coloured. ‘Oh, nothing. You’ve just looked quite stressed.’

‘Have I? I haven’t felt that stressed.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s OK not to be Mr Super Cool all the time, you know.’

I gulped at my drink and felt the alcohol releasing into my blood stream.

‘Where are you from, Mike?’ Kaitlyn’s eyes were fixed on me.

‘You mean where was I brought up?’ She nodded. ‘Well, all over really.’ I nearly stopped myself from saying any more, but Kaitlyn was smiling and sometimes it felt good to talk, as the adverts always say. ‘I was born in Luton, but I was taken into care at ten and I didn’t get a permanent home until I was twelve. That was in Aylesbury.’

Kaitlyn’s smile had fallen. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’

I shrugged. ‘Why would you?’

‘Why were you taken into care?’

I drained my glass. ‘Usual story. Alcoholic mother, abusive boyfriend, absent father.’

‘That’s awful. I had no idea.’

I laughed because why on earth would she have any idea. I am not the sort of person you would look at and think they had been in care. ‘Would you like another?’ I held up my empty glass.

Hers was half full but she stood up. ‘My turn, let me.’ I watched her go to the bar and order our drinks. I noticed that she took one of her feet out of their killer heels and let it rest on the cool metal footrest.

When she came back she had recovered her smile. ‘So, you were adopted at twelve. Who by?’

I shook my head. ‘Not adopted. But I went into permanent foster care. A really nice couple called Elaine and Barry. They were great.’ And as I said Elaine’s name I could have been sitting at the kitchen table with one of her stews in front of me. It was funny to think of her like that, out of context, and it made me feel like I had a hole in my stomach.

‘So do you still see them then?’

‘Yes.’

‘And what about your mum?’

‘Oh God, no, not for years.’

‘Well, they must have done a pretty good job, your foster parents. I mean, you’ve turned out well, haven’t you?’ She laughed lightly.

I knew my hand was tight around my pint. ‘It was Elaine who made me realise I was good with numbers,’ I said. ‘I was really struggling before I went to live with her but she put everything into perspective for me.’ The atmosphere in the pub had become very close, almost as though we were underwater and running out of air. I knew I had heard that phrase ‘putting everything into perspective’ before, but I couldn’t quite place it and I couldn’t work out why it made me feel so uneasy. And I also couldn’t quite remember what Elaine had done or what I had struggled with before.

I have always had pockets of unsettling memories which I can’t be entirely sure are connected to me – the open mouths of shouting adults near my face, kicking heels, blood on the ground, pain in my chest. I pulled a breath into my stomach and concentrated instead on the feel of Elaine’s hand on top of my own, Barry’s cheer as I scored a garden goal, the warmth of the fire in their front room. I heard her say to me as if she was right by my ear again, ‘You just need to channel it, Mike. You’re good with numbers, why not see what you can do with them?’

‘Are you OK?’ Kaitlyn asked and I was almost surprised to see her sitting opposite me.

‘Yes, fine.’ I checked my watch. ‘But I should probably get going.’

‘I’m sorry if I asked too much,’ she said, her face as pale as the moon.

‘No, no, not at all.’

‘We’re quite alike actually, Mike. I mean, I wasn’t adopted or fostered or anything. But we’re both outsiders.’