The House Swap(46)

‘Thanks. You too.’ His hands are running up and down my sides, as if they have minds of their own. It wouldn’t take much to peel this dress over my head and have me where he wants me, and for a crazy moment I wish he’d do it, right here in the station, with the sun beating over our heads through the glass roof. ‘Let’s go and get something to eat,’ I say instead. ‘I’m really hungry.’

He takes my hand as we walk out on to the street and head for the covered market. I hardly ever come to this part of town, and it’s taken me the best part of an hour to get here, but that’s its attraction. No one knows us here. We’re just a couple, scanned idly by strangers, accepted and dismissed.

I lace my fingers through his more tightly, unable to stop the spread of happiness and excitement pulsing through me. This feels like a treat. It’s the first time we’ve ever had a day off together and, although I need to pop back home and collect Eddie from nursery at five, I’ll be back with him again by eight. I’ve earned this, I tell myself. I’ve been a good wife all week. Made Francis’s dinner, cleaned up after him, listened to his ranting. Kept our son away from him when he’s too out of it to see him. I think of these things and a savage surge of entitlement steals my breath for an instant. I look at Carl tipping his face up to the light as it glints off his sunglasses, relaxed and at ease. Right now, this is what I want. Just this. I won’t think about anything else.

‘So how is it in the new office?’ I ask as we wander around the stalls, trying to decide what to buy. ‘New lease of life?’

He shrugs. ‘The work’s the same, to be honest. No Steven spouting random crap all day, but beyond that it’s not much different.’

‘And you said the people were friendly?’ I probe. ‘Who are you sitting next to?’

He glances at me. ‘A girl.’ His expression is serious, but the corners of his mouth are twitching. ‘She’s very friendly, and quite ugly.’

Laughing, I press myself up against him, the embarrassment at being rumbled outweighed by the pleasure that he can see through my unreasonable jealousy so easily. ‘You know me too well.’

‘Yes, I thought you might like that.’ He kisses the top of my head, pulling me closer. ‘Seriously, though, it’s OK, but I can’t say I’m getting a lot of work done. I probably shouldn’t spend so much time messaging you, but it’s hard to resist.’ He shoots me a quick smile as he draws back, but I think I see confusion flare briefly in his eyes. I’m reminded of the strange, queasy feeling I had when we said goodbye a couple of weeks ago, the sense of this having slipped out of my control. It’s the first time it has occurred to me that it’s the same for him. There is no one steering this ship. In our different ways, we’re both wildly out of our depth.

‘Well, like Steven always says, you can resist anything but temptation,’ I say lightly, trying to dispel my unease. ‘Though I’m not sure he said it first.’

We eventually buy a couple of wraps from a Mexican stall and wander up to the nearby park to eat them, settling down in the full glare of the sun. Carl lies down on his back, pillowing his hands behind his head, and I lie next to him, feeling his heartbeat where my head rests on his chest. ‘This is nice,’ I say quietly after a while. ‘Nice not to have to rush off.’

‘I know.’ His chest rises and falls in a sigh. ‘Sometimes,’ he says, ‘I wish we could just stay in one evening and, I don’t know, watch TV. Get a takeaway. Normal stuff.’

‘Well, we could do that.’ I know exactly what he means but, even as I speak, I know it probably won’t happen. Our time alone is precious, too short. We spend most of it in bed, and it feels like the opposite of normal.

He doesn’t answer but strokes my hair, his hand running idly up and down its length and gently pulling, teasing his fingers through the strands. ‘There’s a couple at the new office,’ he says at last. ‘They’re in their twenties, think they’ve only been going out for a few months. It’s funny, they hardly ever talk to each other at work. Don’t often go out for lunch together, even. It made me think there’s no way I’d be able to stay away from you, in that situation.’

‘You managed it OK,’ I say, ‘when we did work together.’

‘Well, not really,’ he points out, snorting briefly with laughter. ‘Not by the end. Anyway … it doesn’t matter. I just couldn’t help looking at them and thinking, you know. It wouldn’t be like that for me.’

I scratch my fingernails lightly down his abdomen, thinking about what he is saying. These days, more and more, I find myself trying to imagine what it would be like if we were a real couple. I think about the routine trips to the supermarket, the household chores, the aimless, rainy days when there’s nothing to do. ‘It wouldn’t be like this, either,’ I say. ‘You know that.’

I feel him breathing deeply, thinking. ‘No,’ he says finally. ‘I’ve got no idea what it would be like. To be honest, I don’t tend to second-guess stuff too much. I just take things as they come. You know – work, family, friends … my life’s not so complicated, really.’

I angle my cheek inwards, resting it against the warm rise and fall of his chest. ‘Apart from me.’