The Forgetting(49)
Over the course of the weekend, they had talked endlessly about the possible move to London. Hunched over their laptops, Dominic had shown her emails from the think tanks inviting her in for meetings when she was settled in London, and Livvy had not been able to deny the excitement she felt at the prospect of being employed by one of them. It was not the same as when Tom had shown her endless photographs of Thai beaches and Tibetan monasteries, expecting her to match his enthusiasm for backpacking in their mid-thirties. What Dominic was showing her were great professional opportunities.
Later, Dominic had opened links to flats and houses in London they could feasibly afford. He told her he’d already made enquiries with letting agents in Bristol for their current house and they’d assured him it would be easy to rent out. He’d given her more information about his job, about the interview process, about how invigorated he felt: ‘You know I’ve always been much more interested in the ideas – the philosophy – of construction than the practical reality. This will be so much more intellectually stimulating for me. I need a fresh challenge and this is perfect.’ His words had almost outrun his tongue as he’d listed all the ways in which it would be better to bring up Leo in London: more museums and galleries, greater diversity, better schools. It was as though, in Dominic’s mind, the decision had already been made, the wealth of opportunities spread out before them like roads paved with gold.
After Leo had gone to bed on Sunday night, she and Dominic had sat on the sofa, Dominic with a glass of red wine, Livvy with a slimline tonic. ‘So, what do you think? Can I make the call tomorrow and tell them I’m accepting the job?’ Livvy had thought about all she would be relinquishing – familiarity, security, proximity to family and friends, her job – and had almost told him that she couldn’t, it was too much to ask. But then his words from the previous morning had rung in her ears – Why do you have to be so unadventurous? – and it had felt like a depressingly repetitive soundtrack: first Tom, now Dominic. She had contemplated all the reasons it would be good to go, not just for her and Dominic but for Leo too. And before she had time to doubt herself, she had been nodding, agreeing, and Dominic had been flinging his arms around her, thanking her, telling her it was going to be the best move they ever made.
When he had left for Sheffield early yesterday morning – ‘Just think, sweetheart, only another seven weeks of this and then no more commuting. Just the three of us, together, in London’ – she had closed the door behind his disappearing car and felt as though the weekend had been like looking through the window of a speeding train, picking out a handful of landmarks while the rest of the scene hurtled by in a blur so that she wasn’t sure exactly where she had been, which locations she’d passed through, what she had seen.
‘Actually, I do have some news.’ Livvy steeled herself. ‘Dominic’s got a new job.’
Her mum’s expression widened into a broad smile. ‘That’s wonderful. So no more traipsing back and forth to Sheffield?’
Livvy hesitated, the right words reluctant to appear. ‘The job’s in London. We’re moving to London.’
‘London?’ Her mum said it as though it were the name of a newly discovered planet.
‘When did all this happen?’ Her dad clambered to his knees, sank into the floral-patterned armchair that her parents had owned since Livvy was a child.
‘He told me on Saturday. It’s a fantastic opportunity for him. I’ve never seen him so excited about work before.’ She tried to inject a shot of optimism into her voice, feared it may have fallen short.
‘But what about you and Leo? What about your promotion?’ The skin across her mum’s forehead creased into deep pleats.
Livvy paused, reminded herself of all the positive reasons for the move. ‘There are plenty of think tanks in London. A couple of them have already expressed an interest. I’ll have a lot more career opportunities there.’
‘But it’s so far away.’
Livvy was aware of a compression in her throat. ‘It’s only a hundred miles down the M4. Less than three hours by car. Half that by train.’ She could feel Dominic’s words parroting from her lips, had the sensation of being a ventriloquist’s dummy.
‘But how do you feel about this, love? Do you actually want to go?’ Her dad’s voice was calm, but Livvy could hear his unease.
‘Of course. It’ll be great for us to have an adventure together. And it’ll do me good to get out of my comfort zone.’ She smiled as widely as she could, hoped her parents would focus on the words she was saying rather than any ambivalence in her tone.
‘But we’ll hardly ever see you.’ Her mum’s voice wavered and it took all Livvy’s self-control to keep the muscles in her cheeks fixed in a taut smile.
‘Of course you will. You can come to London as often as you want. And it’ll be easy for Leo and me to hop on a train to visit. We’ll be back and forth all the time.’ Even as she said it, Livvy wondered how true it might be, particularly once she was working again.
‘It’s just so . . . unexpected. And I don’t care what you say. To me it’s a long way away.’ Her mum’s eyes drifted down to where Leo was rolling the red fire engine along the carpet in half-moon rotations.
Guilt pooled in Livvy’s throat. She thought about her mum’s joy when she’d first told her she was pregnant: how, in that moment, she had understood that until then, her parents had all but relinquished any hope of becoming grandparents. She thought about the hours they had spent with Leo since he’d been born: two, three times a week. And now she was taking him away from them. ‘We’ll still see loads of you. I wouldn’t want Leo growing up without you in his life. You know how much I value your relationship with him.’