Sometimes I Lie(37)

‘Congratulations, which hospital?’

‘King Alfred’s.’

‘That’s near me,’ I say. He smiles.

‘And your girlfriend, does she work in London too?’

‘She does, but in the city centre. What with my shifts and her work schedule, I don’t get to see her as often as I’d like. There’s no food menu here, you get what you’re given, I’m afraid, but it’s always good.’

‘What if I don’t like what I’m given?’

‘I’m pretty sure that you will.’

I listen to him talk about his work. He always wanted to be a doctor and now he is. I think it was one of the things I found so attractive about him when we first met. He wanted to help people, wanted to save them. He doesn’t talk about it for long, he’s too modest for that, he keeps changing the subject back to me. My stories seem shallow and empty in comparison. What I do doesn’t save lives. I do what I do to help myself.

The meal is the nicest food I’ve eaten for a long time but, as my wine glass is refilled, I can’t stop myself from prodding at the perfect evening.

‘Does your girlfriend know you’re out with an ex tonight?’ I ask.

‘Of course! Doesn’t your husband?’

I don’t say anything and he laughs at me. I don’t like it.

‘That was a long time ago, we’ve both moved on and grown up a lot since then,’ he adds. I feel foolish and old, past my ‘best before’ date.

He says no to dessert, so I do the same. As he talks, I can’t help remembering when we were together. He struggled to keep his hands off me then but that was over ten years ago. He might look the same, but I don’t. Despite the new clothes and make-up, I’m still the old me and not the one he remembers.

‘I’ll walk you to Waterloo,’ he says.

‘There’s really no need, I’m perfectly capable of getting there myself.’

‘I’m sure you are, but I’m new around here remember? I might get lost, so I’d appreciate the company.’

He offers me his arm as we leave the restaurant and I see no harm in taking it. I can feel the warmth of him through his coat and notice the way women seem to stare at him as we stroll to the station. We walk along the concourse and I scan the departure boards through tired eyes, anxious not to miss the last train home.

‘Platform Thirteen for me. Thank you so much for a lovely evening.’ I kiss him on the cheek.

‘We must do this again some time.’

‘I’d like that,’ I reply, not entirely sure that I would.

He takes my hand in his and I feel instantly uncomfortable.

‘I have to go,’ I say, trying to retrieve my fingers from his grip.

‘No, you don’t. Come for one last drink. You can get the next train . . .’

‘I really can’t, I think this might be the last one.’

‘Then stay with me. We can get a room at one of the best hotels London has to offer.’ His grip on my hand tightens and I see a look in his eyes that I’d deleted from the memories of us. I pull my hand away.

‘Edward, I’m married.’

‘You’re not happy. You wouldn’t have come tonight if you were.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Isn’t it? I know you.’

‘The version of me you knew is several years out of date.’

‘I don’t think so. We both messed up before, but we can move on from that. I didn’t know what I had back then, but I know now, and I want it back. I think you do too. That’s why you came.’

‘I’m really sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression. I have to go.’

I walk away. I don’t need to look back to know he’s still standing there or that I’ve made a big mistake.





Before

Wednesday, 14th October 1992


Dear Diary,

Today was my birthday. I am now eleven years old. It was also Taylor’s birthday, but we did not spend it together. Today was officially the worst birthday I’ve ever had. Everything is broken and I can’t think of a way to fix it. Things went very wrong, very quickly, and then just kept getting worse. It wasn’t my fault, it really wasn’t.

I’ve been wearing Taylor’s bracelet to bed at night, the one with our date of birth engraved in the gold. It sounds silly, but wearing it felt like she was with me somehow and that made me happy. I was so excited this morning that I forgot to take it off before coming downstairs. It was a stupid thing to do.

Mum said I had to eat breakfast before I could open any presents. She thinks about food all the time and has got fat again, so fat this time that she had to cut the top of her leggings with the kitchen scissors because they were too tight. She saw the bracelet when I reached for the cereal and was calm at first, just asked what it was and where I got it. She looked at the inscription and read the words out loud. My darling girl. I didn’t want to get in trouble on my birthday, so I told her it was a gift from Taylor’s mum.

It was just a little white lie and I promised God that if he existed and made Mum forget about it, I would definitely give the bracelet back the next day. But God doesn’t exist or wasn’t listening. Mum just lost it and went nuts. Even Dad, who had called in sick again, told her she was overreacting, but that just seemed to make things worse. She told me to take it off, so I started pretending to fiddle with the clasp. Then she walked away and I thought it was over, but she picked up the phone on the wall at the other end of the kitchen.