Our Kind of Cruelty(43)

Kaitlyn’s sitting room was almost as white as she was. It was also very sparse, so you got the impression that everything in it had been chosen with care and consideration. The only bit of colour, if you can call black a colour, were the calligraphed words stencilled above the couch. I twisted round so I could read them: Blame it or praise it, there is no denying the wild horse in us.

‘Virginia Woolf,’ Kaitlyn said as she handed me a glass of wine.

V hated any type of slogan and I took to buying them for her as jokes whenever I saw them on cards or embossed on fake metal signs. Her favourite four were:

Dream as if you’ll live forever. Live as if you’ll die tomorrow.

The pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity. The optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.

No matter how long you have travelled in the wrong direction, you can always turn around.

We are punished by our sins, not for them.



Does anyone actually believe this crap, she’d say. I mean, do these random words put one in front of another by a moron make anyone feel better?

‘Who’s your favourite writer?’ Kaitlyn asked, sitting next to me. Snowdrop immediately leapt on to her lap and she began to pet him under the chin. I hoped she was planning on washing her hands before serving the food.

‘I don’t know. Verity likes Virginia Woolf though.’ I couldn’t remember the last time I’d read a book. V used to sometimes jokingly call me a philistine and I felt hot suddenly as I wondered if Angus liked to read. If they read to each other in bed.

‘You said you were on the verge of working things out,’ Kaitlyn said.

I looked over at her expectant face and wondered what it must be like to live in such an unattractive body. ‘We’re talking. I’m confident we can work it out.’

‘How long have you been together?’

I pretended to consider this. ‘Nine years.’

‘So you met at university?’

‘Yes.’ We both sipped at our wine. When you are asked a question you should reciprocate, V told me. ‘What about you? Any significant others?’

She laughed. ‘Well, maybe. Early days, you know.’

‘I’ve only ever lived with Verity,’ I said.

She turned back to me. ‘Yes, but that’s all you need isn’t it, one person?’ I smiled because of course I totally agreed. ‘Sometimes I wonder what it’s all for, all this making money, I mean. I could have bought a large family house with my bonus last year but I didn’t, because what would be the point, rattling round some big old thing, just me?’

I thought of my own house and it made me feel itchy. ‘You could invest it.’

‘I could,’ she said, although her tone was harsh.

A faint smell of burning reached us and Kaitlyn jumped up. ‘Come into the kitchen. We can eat there.’

I followed her through to another white room, with white units running along one side of the wall and a round white table encircled by white chairs in the centre.

‘Open another bottle.’ She motioned to a laden wine rack in the corner. I went towards it and picked out a fine bottle, easing the cork out with a satisfying sigh.

We sat next to each other again, with the plates of steaming shepherd’s pie, and I filled our glasses. It smelt as good as home.

‘I’m thinking about jacking it all in actually,’ Kaitlyn said. ‘Buying a business on the coast somewhere and living a better life.’

‘Whereabouts?’ V had taught me not to blow on my food, so I was waiting for the steam to subside.

She shrugged. ‘I don’t really care. I fancy the sea.’ It smelt too good to wait so I forked at the food, bringing it to my lips. Kaitlyn did the same, blowing hard on it before putting it in her mouth. ‘Why are you smiling?’ she asked.

‘I was always taught not to blow on my food.’

‘My mum told me that as well. But, you know.’

‘What business?’ She looked better animated, I thought.

‘I don’t know that either.’ She laughed. ‘An old-fashioned sweet shop maybe, selling things like white mice and rhubarb and custards, in those big glass jars. And you have to scoop them out and weigh them.’ The food was as good as I had expected and it landed in my grateful stomach like a kiss. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about jacking it all in?’

‘I plan to retire by forty-five.’

‘But that’s ages away.’

‘Fifteen years.’

‘Exactly.’

And it did sound like a long time when she put it like that.

‘Did you know anyone when you went to New York?’

‘No.’

‘How was that?’

‘Awful.’ There was something about Kaitlyn which made being honest with her very easy.

She laid down her fork even though her plate was still half full. ‘Why was it awful?’

‘Mainly the loneliness. I missed Verity terribly.’

Her cheeks coloured slightly. ‘I don’t understand why you went in the first place. I mean, if she couldn’t go with you.’

‘I … We …’ But I stumbled over the words, not entirely sure what the answer to that was. I had momentarily forgotten why V had thought it such a good idea. ‘I don’t know. It was good for my career.’