The Forgetting(40)

Livvy took a sip of coffee, allowed herself a moment’s pause, balancing the tightrope between her divided loyalties. ‘I don’t think that’s entirely fair. We’re two parents, trying our best to juggle two careers and a young baby. It’s not easy.’

There was a moment’s silence. ‘Is that all?’

Something in Bea’s voice made Livvy hesitate. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Is everything okay with you and Dominic? Outside of the work stuff?’

‘Of course, everything’s fine.’

Bea studied Livvy’s face intently. ‘It’s just that, if it isn’t, you know you can talk to me. Whatever’s going on – with work, or with Dominic – I’m always here for you, you know that.’ Bea had tried to keep her voice neutral, but her articulation of Dominic’s name was chiselled at the edges.

Livvy thought about the first time she’d introduced Bea to Dominic – over dinner at Livvy’s old flat, three weeks after they’d met – and how she’d known, before she’d even served the main course, that Bea wasn’t impressed. Her sister had been polite, but Livvy had been able to tell from Bea’s quizzical expression that there was something about Dominic she instinctively disliked. And although Dominic had tried to be his usual, charming self, something had been off beam in him that evening too, as though he were going through the motions of ingratiating himself with Bea, but his heart wasn’t in it. Every encounter between the three of them since had been a variation on the same theme and now, eighteen months later, Livvy generally tried to keep her sister and her husband compartmentalised in separate areas of her life. ‘Look, I know you’re not Dominic’s biggest fan, but I honestly think you’d like him if you gave him more of a chance.’

‘I don’t dislike Dominic. I just don’t really feel I know him. I know he’s charming and confident and amiable. But I don’t really have any sense of what’s beneath all of that.’

Livvy laughed, but it sounded forced, strained. ‘Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps that’s it – that he really is just charming and amiable? Perhaps he’s just a nice man who really wants to get on with you and can sense that you don’t really like him?’

Bea rolled her eyes. ‘I’m never not nice to him. I just think . . . he seems to have some very fixed ideas about things, and when those things affect you and your promotion, I get annoyed on your behalf.’

Livvy thought about how the rhythm of her relationship with Bea had been altered by her marriage, as though it were a piece of music in which Livvy had moved into a different time signature and Bea was still playing to the old meter. ‘You don’t need to feel annoyed on my behalf. But it really would mean a lot to me if you two could get on.’

Leo cried out as he picked up the nectarine pot, found it empty. Livvy grabbed her phone to check the time, wondering if she could risk giving him a rice cake without spoiling his lunch, and found a message from Dominic. Opening it, she was greeted by a photo of their empty sitting room.

Great homecoming. I get up at the crack of dawn to drive back early and surprise you, and you’re not even here. Where are you??

Shoving the empty nectarine pot back into the change bag, she tapped out a quick reply.

Sorry – just popped out. Back v soon! Xx

She turned to Bea. ‘I’m really sorry, I’ll have to go. Dominic’s got home early.’

Bea shrugged. ‘Why does that mean you have to rush off? I’m sure he’ll cope on his own for half an hour.’

Livvy began strapping Leo into his buggy, knocking the chair of the person next to her and apologising for her clumsiness. ‘We haven’t seen each other all week – it can’t be much fun getting home to an empty house. I just wish he’d told me he was going to be early.’

‘What, so you could have cancelled me altogether rather than shooting off after ten minutes?’

Bea’s tone caused a flush of heat to creep around Livvy’s neck. She looked away, swung the change bag over the handlebar of the pushchair, shoved her cardigan into the well underneath. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, after we’ve been apart all week, it would be nice if I’m there when he gets home.’

There was a beat of silence. ‘Fine. But I’ll see you on Tuesday night – dinner at yours? I should be able to get away by half seven.’ Bea rested a hand on Livvy’s arm. ‘And don’t forget what I said. If there’s anything wrong – or anything you want to talk about – you know where I am.’

Livvy nodded, hugged her sister, thanked her again for saving her promotion. Angling the buggy out of the café, she waved through the window and sprinted for home, checking her phone and wondering why Dominic was yet to reply.





ANNA


LONDON

The house is unnervingly quiet. Logically, I know it is no quieter than on any other day. But the knowledge that Stephen will not be here for the next thirty-six hours seems to exacerbate the silence.

I glance down at my watch: just gone half past nine. On a weekday, Stephen would not be home for another ten or eleven hours. And yet today, knowing that he is two hundred miles away and will not be back until tomorrow evening, time seems to have stretched, each minute lengthened like a piece of plasticine rolled into a narrow line, so thin it is on the verge of breaking.