The Girl I Used to Be(17)

When I saw the two bottles of Barolo, I winced. Two bottles. What would that be, twenty units? And I’d already had gin. I couldn’t remember how many of them I’d had. Quickly I took out my phone and found the bill for the hotel. They’d sent an automatic receipt once I’d paid my bill on that Saturday morning. I knew I’d put the bar drinks on my room tab. The receipt showed I’d had a double gin with tonic at seven fifteen P.M. and another at seven forty-five. I’d also had three bottles of water from the mini bar. At least I hadn’t drunk anything more when I got back to my room.

I frowned.

One thing I could remember was drinking a bottle of water when I woke up that morning. Red wine always makes me so thirsty. I’d taken another bottle downstairs with me and I’d drunk it by the time I got to the conference room. There’d been a table set out with hot and cold drinks and I’d picked up a couple of bottles then to last me the morning.

Had I drunk another in the night? When I woke that morning, light was streaming through the gap in the curtains, so I could see everything quite clearly. I’d been desperate for water then. Surely I would have noticed a bottle of water on the bedside table?

I remembered standing by the door holding my overnight bag as I left the room. There was a waste bin by the door and I remember throwing the glass bottle into it and flinching as it hit the metal. I’d looked into the bin, to see if it had smashed. There hadn’t been another bottle in there.

But then I saw sense. My clothes from the night before had been strewn around the room and my handbag had tipped over. I’d probably had a bottle of water when I got in and left it on the floor.

I switched my phone off and put it back in my bag and tucked the receipt back into the inside pocket. I was so glad I hadn’t drunk anything since that night. I didn’t want to ever get in a state like that again.





ELEVEN


Saturday, July 22

CAITLIN STAYED OVER that night in the spare room, which had virtually become hers since Ben was away so often.

When I woke automatically at seven o’clock, the house was dim and quiet. Joe lay beside me, his body heavy and unresponsive. I knew he’d lie there like that until I got up with Rory; I was well used to that. When I heard the familiar sound of Rory jumping out of bed and coming onto the landing, I sat up to call him into my room, then heard Caitlin say, “In here, sweetheart. Let’s give Mummy a rest, shall we?” and quickly lay back down again.

I love that woman.

Caitlin said, “Anyone for pancakes?” and the sound of Rory’s cheers rang through the house. I snuggled down next to Joe, who hadn’t woken at all, and tried not to think about the fact that he hadn’t had to wake; he’d known Caitlin or I would take care of Rory. I had to grab whatever time I could with Rory.

I forced myself to stop thinking like that. I knew that resentment corroded a marriage. I closed my eyes tight and made myself think happier thoughts, and the next thing I knew sunlight was streaming through the curtains and my bedside clock showed it was ten o’clock. I could hear Rory in the garden and the sound of Caitlin calling to him. Joe lay beside me, silent and still, as though he was determined not to be the first to get up. True to my suspicions, when he felt me get out of bed, he yawned and rolled over, stretching out across the bed.

“I won’t be long,” he said, and gave me a lazy smile. “Unless you want to come back?”

“Right,” I said. “Because ten o’clock isn’t late enough?”

“Oh no, is that the time?” He got out of bed and stumbled into the en suite. “I’m meeting Mike for a run.”

“Don’t forget I’m working later.”

He nodded, though I don’t think he was taking much notice, and turned the shower on.

I put my dressing gown on to go downstairs. Caitlin and Rory were in the garden, watering his little patch of vegetables. He was earnestly showing her the pots of herbs he was growing and she was admiring his work.

She looked up and waved as she saw me. “Good sleep?”

“You’re an angel,” I said. “Thank you so much.”

Rory rushed over to me, planting a huge kiss on my cheek. “Sit down, Mum, we’re making you breakfast!”

I didn’t need much persuasion. By the time Joe came downstairs I was sitting at the patio table, eating pancakes with strawberries, and drinking coffee and orange juice, all courtesy of Caitlin and Rory.

“Look at you with your servants,” said Joe. He leaned over and kissed me. “You’re a lady of leisure.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m living the dream. You’ll be back by eleven thirty, won’t you?”

He looked at his watch. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to work! I said I’d be there before twelve.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” he muttered. “That only gives me an hour.”

“It’s okay,” said Caitlin. “I can stay with Rory till you get back. I’m not doing anything.”

I bit my lip, determined not to say a word. Caitlin was aware of this and Joe must have been, too, because he crashed around the kitchen, getting all his gear together, then gave a brief “I’m off, then,” before slamming the front door behind him.

“I don’t get it,” I said. “I’ve got to go to work—it’s not as though I’m just off enjoying myself.”