The Girl I Used to Be(44)
We had a number of things to get through in such a short time, and I watched Rachel organize everything that needed to be done that day. She was very efficient and fair, too, I thought; in the past I’d worked with people who, once they were promoted, refused to take on any of the boring or awkward jobs themselves, but she wasn’t like that.
“You did a good job today,” I told her, once the meeting was over.
She blushed. “Thanks.”
“It’ll be easier on the days when I’m not here,” I said. “The last thing you want is me watching you.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” she said, but I knew I was right.
* * *
*
JOE SENT ME a text at three P.M. telling me they’d just arrived at Holyhead. Within minutes I’d packed up my things, ready to go home.
“You’re in a rush!” said Sophie.
“I’m just desperate to see them.”
She smiled. “Have a lovely evening. See you on Friday.”
I’d picked up groceries in the supermarket at lunchtime, so I was able to dash back home to get dinner ready for Joe and Rory. It would take them a couple of hours to get home from Holyhead if the traffic was good, so I had time to cook for them. At the front door I took the post from the letter box and put it on the hall table. Everywhere still looked lovely after the cleaners had been there, and I wondered how long I’d be able to fool Joe that I’d done it.
* * *
*
THEY ARRIVED HOME at five P.M. I heard the car pull into the driveway and ran out of the house to greet them. Rory gave a shriek of joy when he saw me and flung himself into my arms when I opened the car door. I held him close to me, rocking him as though he were a baby. I breathed in the sweet scent of his shampoo, felt his T-shirt rise up as my arms held him, so I could feel his skin, soft and warm and damp from the heat of the car.
And then Joe was behind him, his arms around both of us.
“We’ve missed you.”
My throat tightened. “I’ve missed you, too.” I thought of the loneliness I’d felt since he’d gone, the worries I’d had. I’ll tell him, I thought. I’ll tell him tonight. Everything will be all right. He’ll help me sort it out. He hugged me tighter, and for that moment I truly believed everything would be okay. He was on my side.
In the house, dinner was ready for them. I took the roast lamb out of the oven and put it onto the counter ready to be carved. The gratin dauphinois was bubbling and golden and the air smelled of garlic and rosemary. The patio doors were open and the table was set for dinner, with roses in bud vases and our special-occasion glasses and cutlery shining on the crisp white linen tablecloth.
“Wow, this place is clean!” said Joe. He turned to me, a guilty expression on his face. “I’m really sorry it was such a mess when we left. How long did it take you to clean up?”
“Oh, you know,” I said. “I did it as I went along.”
“It looks brand-new!” Rory said, and promptly tipped his biggest box of Lego onto the rug.
“How are you?” asked Joe. He held me tightly and kissed the side of my neck. “Anything been happening while we were away?”
I hesitated. “There’ll be lots to talk about. Let’s get Rory fed and bathed first, eh?”
We sat at the dining table to eat our dinner. Joe lit candles around the room, though it wasn’t yet dark, and he poured us a glass of wine and a cup of juice for Rory and they told me what they’d been up to in Ireland.
After dinner I let them go upstairs ahead of me, as I wanted to hear their reaction to the rooms up there. The cleaners must have spent hours putting everything back in drawers—my husband and son were so messy and favored the floor for everything. As they walked upstairs I noticed the mail that had arrived earlier in the day. There was a bowl of white roses on the hall table and a couple of petals had fallen onto the envelopes. I picked up the mail and gave it a cursory glance. A renewal for our car insurance. A takeaway food leaflet. A letter from a credit card company we’d never used; I assumed it was junk mail. At the bottom of the pile was a padded envelope addressed to me. I was just about to open it when something about it made me stop in my tracks. I knew I hadn’t ordered anything lately. Was he sending something to my home? But how would he know where I lived?
Even as I raised that question, the answer was there. I knew that if I Googled myself, my home address could be easily discovered.
I heard Joe’s exclamations as he saw how tidy and clean everything was upstairs and then his footsteps as he came to the top of the stairs. Before he could come down, I shoved the envelope into my bag and zipped it shut.
“Yes!” I called as I ran upstairs toward them. “I’ve been really busy!”
THIRTY-THREE
IT WAS HOURS before I could check the envelope. I left my handbag downstairs by the front door when I went up to Joe and Rory. I knew that otherwise I’d be looking at it all the time, willing them to go away so that I could open it. We stayed upstairs all evening. Rory had his bath; I’d so missed doing that each night, missed his warm, sweet body as he’d stand up in the bath ready to come out, his body slippery with bubbles. As usual he soaked me as he leaped out, but that night there were no recriminations, just gratitude that he was back home. A little voice at the back of my mind kept saying, This is how it would be, not seeing him for days at a time, and the fear of that just kept me frozen, stopped me from saying anything to Joe. After I’d read Rory a record-breaking number of stories, he finally dozed off. By then I’d changed into my pajamas as I was so wet after his bath, and Joe had had a shower.