Haven't They Grown(74)

‘Well, you’ve come to the right place. I’m always happy to give true answers to true questions. But let’s hold this Q and A in my office, where we can have some privacy – in case this turns out to be like the drinking games we used to play. Remember those? Share a sordid secret or down one more shot.’

Something about his manner makes me wonder if he’s prepared for this. Did he expect that one day I’d come here and appeal directly to him? Did he take steps to make sure I soon ran out of other options, relishing the prospect of using his charm to turn Beth-the-problem into Beth-who’s-no-threat-at-all?

I laugh and try to look impressed and amused, knowing that’s what he wants. I need to choose my words carefully – to make this The Beth Leeson Show, directed by me and not Lewis, unlike every other interaction I’ve ever had with him.

‘I haven’t brought any alcohol with me, but we could maybe play a variant of that game,’ I say as I follow him along a gleaming white corridor.

‘Without the best bit? How would that work? Would there be any refreshments at all? I’ve got the wherewithal to make us some beautiful mint tea in my office.’

‘Great. So the new game can be sordid-secret swapping,’ I say smoothly. ‘We can drink mint tea and swap secrets.’ It’s not as hard to talk like this as it would be to anyone who wasn’t Lewis. I’d forgotten this about him: in order for a conversation with him to work, you often had to imitate his manner, and you hoped no one heard you doing it.

‘I refuse to believe you have any sordid secrets, Beth.’ We’ve stopped. He opens a door and gestures for me to go in.

‘Maybe not sordid, but I do have secrets,’ I say, staying where I am, in the corridor. ‘Doesn’t everybody?’

‘I don’t think so. Imagine that.’ Lewis looks serious suddenly. ‘Imagine having none at all. Wouldn’t that be horrible?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Nothing that you’d mind everyone knowing about you, nothing that you keep just for you and maybe a few trusted friends? I’d hate it.’

Don’t ask him to tell you his secret. Not yet. It’s too soon.

‘Am I your trusted friend?’ I say instead.

A grin spreads across his face. ‘I could slip easily into people-pleasing mode and say yes, but you said you wanted true answers, so. I don’t know, Beth. You and Dom disappeared from my life in kind of a weird way. What was that all about? Flora would never tell me. She wanted me to believe we’d all drifted apart but I don’t think that’s what happened, is it?’

‘No.’

‘No. I told Flora I didn’t believe that story, so she made up a better one, hoping I’d like it more: some nonsense about you cutting up a photo of our children.’

‘That’s true. I did. But I don’t think that’s why our friendship ended.’

‘It’s true?’ Lewis laughs. He looks delighted – as if it’s the best news he’s heard in a long time. He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. The doors at the far end of the corridor open and two women appear. Lewis waves in their direction without really looking at them, then gestures again through his open office door. ‘Come on in,’ he says. ‘I haven’t got long, but I want you all to myself for the time we do have. Something tells me you and I are going to have fun today.’





20


There’s a framed photograph on Lewis’s desk: of him, Thomas and Emily sitting outside a beach-front restaurant, under a green-and-white-striped awning. All three of them have lobsters in front of them and they’re all laughing.

‘No Flora?’ I say, pointing to it. ‘No Georgina?’

‘In that particular photo?’ says Lewis. He moves over to inspect it more closely. ‘I’ve never seen either of them, and I work next to that photo most days of my life. But let me know if you spot something I’ve missed. Mint tea? Once I’ve made it, I’ll take the photo out of its frame and you can cut it up if you like. It’s okay, I’ve got plenty more.’ He grins to make it clear he’s joking.

‘You didn’t want a reminder of all four of them on your desk?’

‘I’m fascinated by these questions.’ Lewis arranges white square mugs in square saucers at the drinks station beneath his huge, metal-framed window. ‘I change the picture all the time,’ he says. He sounds gleeful. If he wishes I hadn’t turned up in his new American life, he’s doing an excellent job of concealing it. ‘This week it’s Thomas and Emily’s turn in the frame. Everyone gets a turn. Just like, at home, I change my colleague picture regularly. On the mantelpiece in the lounge, I currently have a framed photo of Aaron and David from Marketing.’

I laugh. I think it’s convincing.

‘So, when does the secret-swapping start?’ Lewis asks, handing me my tea.

‘Soon as you like. I’ll go first. I cut up a family photo Flora sent me – one that came with a Christmas card. Actually, I didn’t cut it up completely. I just cut Georgina out of it.’

I watch Lewis’s face to see if anything changes when I mention her name. It doesn’t. All I see is intense curiosity and relish, no discomfort or guilt. No sadness either.

‘Go on,’ says Lewis. ‘I’m intrigued.’