After You Left(86)

We go into the one bar that has people spilling out on to the road. ‘Just to finish what we were saying,’ Sally says, as we order a drink. ‘Maybe your mother sent you your father, given you lost her and you lost Alan. You know . . . if the dead can affect the lives of the living. Maybe she sent him because she knew you’d lost Justin and you needed a silver lining.’

‘Maybe,’ I say, rather than brush it off. I suppose it costs nothing to think positively about the situation, but far more to think negatively. Evelyn would no doubt approve.

‘Anyway, on another topic . . . I meant to tell you, there’s a nurse. A male nurse. At the care home . . .’ I’m only saying this because I’m drunk. ‘I quite like him.’

Sally looks blown over by a feather. ‘Oh my God! Alice has got a new man already!’ She raises a brandy glass. ‘I wouldn’t have thought that even you could manage that so fast.’

‘I’ve not managed anything! I’m not interested in him! Not like that! I just . . . I like him.’

She grins. ‘I think those are two of the same thing! But go on . . . What’s he like? Describe.’

It’s just mindless conversation. ‘Hmm . . . He’s kind of, well, Italian. Or, half Italian—’

‘Which half?’

‘His father.’

‘Thank God.’

‘He looks a bit like a young Mark Ruffalo—’

Sally’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘So he’s one of the sexiest men on earth?’

‘That might be a stretch,’ I chuckle. ‘But he’s got nice eyes. Big, kind, brown and soulful.’ I can see them right now. ‘And he’s funny, in a dry kind of way. He’s not particularly tidy. He’s got loads of sisters. A warm personality. I love the tender way he treats Eddy, and he seems a little in love with Evelyn, which is cute.’ I sigh.

‘You’re crazy about him and you don’t yet know it!’

‘Oh! I knew I shouldn’t have said anything! You’ve got the wrong idea. Completely.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with having someone else lined up. He sounds charming.’

‘He’s four years younger than me. He is charming. And he’s not lined up.’

‘Uh-oh.’ Sally makes a thumbs-down gesture. ‘A toy boy!’

I know when I’m being teased. I take a sip of her drink, mainly because I’ve finished my own. ‘If anything is to happen, it won’t be for a very long time. I know you think I bounce back fast, but this time’s different. My heart is still very confused. But it gets a tiny bit less confused every day. I suppose the good thing is, despite what I said about being back with Justin and making it work with his baby, I’m not sure I’m cut out for that, to be honest – even if it were an option. To be with a man while his ex hovers on the periphery of our lives . . . And even on the topic of children, I do want to have one of my own – if I can. When I said it didn’t matter and we could adopt, I think I lied. I mean, I think it was just desperation talking.’

I draw breath. This is new insight into myself. I’m gaining it as I speak.

‘And all this is to say . . . ?’

‘That I’m not unhappy with my life.’ I plonk her empty glass down.

Sally studies me, and her face suddenly changes. ‘I am unhappy with my life.’

I stare at her, unmoving. ‘Say again?’

‘I said, I am unhappy with my life. Very unhappy with it, actually.’ She looks down into her lap, briefly, before giving me a pleasureless smile. ‘Or, I should say, with aspects of my life. But this particular aspect happens to be a big one. In fact, I think we need another drink.’ She lands the barman’s attention and orders us another round.

‘What aspect are we talking about, exactly?’

‘Exactly? John.’

‘John?’ I was sure she was going to say work. The anti-social hours. The endless client dramas. It’s a regular lament.

‘I’m going through a phase. For a while now.’

A crowd of punters arrives at the bar, so we have to crush up. ‘What kind of phase?’

‘A “have we run our course?” phase. I thought it would pass if I never mentioned it. I thought that mentioning it would somehow make it self-fulfilling. But it happened again right before your wedding. I got that horrible feeling that your life with Justin was just beginning, and mine with John was somehow over.’

‘What?’ I could not be more astonished. ‘But you never said!’

‘Naturally, I didn’t want to say anything ugly and pessimistic about marriage to an upcoming bride. Then, after your honeymoon, well, Justin disappearing tended to eclipse the fact that my marriage has lost its sparkle.’ Sally looks across the room, disconsolate again, for a second or two. ‘I feel I’ve known him for so many years, Alice. And that’s because, well, I have. It’s been practically all of my adult life! He’s the only man I’ve ever slept with, and I love him with my whole heart, but I love him like I’d love my brother. And I don’t want to have sex with my brother. I don’t even want to kiss my brother. Frankly, I don’t want my brother curled up on the sofa with me watching telly every night. To be honest, I just want rid of my brother. That’s all.’