Authors: Emily Barr
She approached the woman anyway, smiling to show that she was harmless.
'Bonjour
,' she said. 'Um.
Hôtel, s'il vous plaît?'
22 June
I lay down on my bed, feeling happier than I had for ages. Yoga had been lovely. Anna was lovely. My baby was kicking like a small puppy.
I was still half tempted by the idea of a weekend in France. Part of me was desperate to go, but I was trying to be sensible. I was nearly thirty-four weeks pregnant. My life was a mess. I was longing to go away, but I didn't want to put myself in Helen's debt. I was a grown woman, and I couldn't accept a minibreak paid for on someone's father's credit card. Helen didn't seem to be taking offence, and I was glad. The sun was shining, and it was the weekend. The yoga class had helped me to put most of my worries to the back of my mind.
I yawned. It was definitely time for a little nap.
Several hours later, I woke up to the sound of screaming in the street outside. Someone was yelling, barely pausing for breath. I jumped out of bed, picked up my phone, and ran to the window, ready to call the police.
When I looked down, I saw Anna, outside her house, doubled over with pain. She looked small and vulnerable from up here, though she sounded like a cow being slaughtered. Jeremy was holding her arm and looking worried.
'Jaaaayy-soooos!' she shouted. 'Get me to the fucking hospital!'
I took the stairs two at a time, and galloped across to them in an ungainly fashion. I had no shoes on. It was pure luck that I was even wearing clothes.
By the time I reached them, an ambulance was pulling up.
'Anna!' I called, grinning. 'Is this it? You're having the baby!'
She didn't even look at me.
'Get her to fuck off,' she said to Jeremy, between screams.
I stepped back, confused.
A paramedic came to Anna's side and gently touched my elbow to move me out of his way.
'Jeremy?' I said. He didn't look at me. 'Jeremy, will you let me know when the baby's born?'
He looked at me, then away again. His lips were pursed. He shook his head tightly.
Anna was in the ambulance. He got in after her. I stood on the pavement, barefoot and bewildered, and watched them drive away.
As I went inside, through all the doors I'd left open in my excitement, the phone was ringing. I went up as quickly as I could, to answer it. As I did so, I told myself that Anna and Jeremy were just focused on the baby.
I picked up the receiver.
'It's Julie,' she said. She sounded cold, and sharp.
I yawned. 'Hello, Julie,' I said. 'How are you?'
'Oh, fine and dandy, thank you, Liz. Fine and dandy.'
There was a challenge in her voice. She clearly knew what had happened when Roberto visited, but she sounded as if she was blaming me.
'What's going on?'
'Oh, you know. The usual. Baby's kicking. Flat-hunting. Boyfriend carrying on with his sister.'
'Your boyfriend? Roberto?'
'Yes.'
'Carrying on?'
'Which is a polite way of putting it.'
'With his sister? As in ... me?'
'Yes.'
I tried hard to process what she was saying.
'You think I've been ... me ... and Roberto?' I laughed. 'Julie, are you crazy? What are you talking about?'
Her voice was icy. 'Yes, I can quite see that you'd want to deny it now. Bobby's taking the same approach. Were you drunk when you sent me that text then? You really shouldn't do that. It's
very
bad for the baby. But
in vino Veritas
, as they say.'
'What text?'
She sighed. 'The text you sent me. In which you confessed everything and said it meant nothing. Or have you forgotten?'
'I haven't forgotten because there's nothing to forget. I don't have a clue what you're talking about.' I was so desperate to be believed that I knew I was sounding horrifically guilty. I tried to sound sincere. 'I haven't sent you a text for ages,' I added. I was sounding worse by the second.
Julie put on a false-pleasant voice. 'Would you like me to read it to you? Refresh your memory?'
'It can't have come from my phone. Go on, then.'
'Here goes.' She read it in a sing-song voice. '"Hi Julie. I have to tell you this because I feel so bad. Roberto and I kissed when he came to mine. We couldn't stop ourselves. It meant nothing. Sorry. Love from Liz."'
'I never wrote that.'
'You did. It came from your phone.'
'It can't have.'
'Shut up,' she said. 'I don't care what you've got to say now. I just called to say that that is the most disgusting thing I have heard in my entire life. So does Sue. So does your dad.'
I tried to hold back the tears that were springing to my eyes. 'But it's not true. It's someone messing around. Roberto's denying it because it's not true. I wound Roberto up, and he snapped a bit and pushed me against the wall. It got pretty scary. Then I shoved him. It was aggression all round. Nothing else.'
'Yeah, he says that too. You've done a good job of cooking up a story together. He says you pushed him over a chair. I bet you did. He likes a dominant woman.'
'You've got it all wrong. Somebody's—'
She hung up.
I was wretched beyond anything. None of this made any sense. I wondered whether I should call Roberto, but worried that, if he was with Julie, a call from me would make us look guilty. But if I didn't call him, that might look worse. Julie had told Dad and Sue. I prayed that they wouldn't believe her.
It was hard to do anything after that. I wandered around the flat, listless. I tried going back to bed, but I just lay there and cried. I was suddenly scared that the baby wasn't moving, but when I ate some chocolate, it jigged around as usual. I wished Helen was home. I desperately wanted somebody to talk to.
I began to reconsider escaping to France.
The week went on, and it got worse. On Monday, I noticed that Anna and Jeremy were home, and tried to talk myself into knocking at their door.
'Go on,' Helen said. She was fiddling with a handwritten letter that had just arrived for her. 'If they were a bit weird when you saw them leaving, that's only natural. They were getting in an ambulance. You can't blame them for not noticing you.'
'But it wasn't that,' I told her. 'Anna told him to tell me to fuck off.'
'Yeah, and she's, what is she? Mexican?'
'Venezuelan.'
'Yeah, exactly. So she can say things like that because she feels like it. Latin women are tempestuous, aren't they, and she was in labour.'
I was not convinced. I watched Helen opening the letter and easing it out of its envelope.
'I went to yoga with her in the morning and she was fine,' I said. 'We had a great time and she even said she thought things might be starting. She was having mild contractions. We talked about it for hours.'
'So go and see her! She's the one with the new baby. It's not up to her to come to you, is it?'
I nodded. 'I guess you're right. Will you come too?'
Helen frowned, and put her letter down. 'Anna hates me. Are you sure?'
I felt pathetic. 'I just need some moral support. Just in case. I couldn't take it if they turned on me, too.'
We stood side by side on the doorstep, and knocked at their red front door. Anna and Jeremy lived in the whole house, not a flat, and I envied them.
Jeremy answered. I noticed him looking Helen up and down, in her tiny pink dress, before his eyes fixed on me and he frowned.
I handed over the flowers I'd brought. 'Hi, Jeremy.' I was speaking quickly. 'These are for Anna. So, the baby's been born?' He didn't immediately respond, so I carried on. 'Is it a boy or a girl? Did everything go OK?' I heard a funny, squeaking little wail from inside the house. It hit me in the chest. That was the sound of Anna's child. 'Can I come and say hello, or is it a bad time?'
Jeremy shook his head. 'It's a bad time,' he said curtly. 'Always will be, I'm afraid.' He started to shut the door. Helen spoke quickly.
'At least tell us about the baby,' she pleaded.
'Girl,' he said. He smiled in spite of himself. 'We've called her Gabriella Rose. She knows how to use her lungs, but she hasn't quite worked out the sleeping part yet.'
Helen grinned. I tried, but I couldn't work out why he was being horrible to me.
'Congratulations,' Helen said. 'Is she a good weight?'
'Oh, absolutely. She's a chunky little thing. Nine pounds two,' he said proudly.
Anna's voice came from inside the house. 'Jeremy? Who is it?' she demanded. He looked worried.
'Sorry,' he said, looking at Helen rather than me. 'I can't actually stay and chat. I'm not supposed to be talking to you.' At this point, finally, he looked me in the face. 'You can say what you like about people,' he said, 'but you can't get away with it. Maybe you were having an off day, or maybe Anna annoyed you. I don't care. We don't need people like you around us. Leave us alone.'
'But I have
no idea
what I said about them,' I wailed. 'I didn't say anything!'
Helen stroked my arm. She looked uncomfortable. 'It must be a misunderstanding,' she said.
'I know, but why? They're my friends. They took me to hospital. What am I going to do? Anna and I are both having babies. She was going to be my lifeline.'
'I'm sure she'll come around,' Helen said. She was obviously out of her depth, emotionally. 'Just give her a bit of time to get over the birth. If you haven't done anything, it can all be sorted out in time.'
I wiped my eyes. 'I guess you're right.'
'You know I am. And in the meantime, you've got me. You've got your family. You've got other people. Actually, that reminds me. There was a woman in the café asking for you on Saturday.'
'Yeah?'
'Nice-looking woman. Used to be a man, Matt said.'
At this, I brightened. 'Rosa? What did she say?'
'She knew that I knew you. I guess from Matt.'
I was feeling cautiously happier. 'He's a terrible gossip, your boyfriend.'
'I know. So she asked if I knew you, and then said you should get in touch with her because the two of you have things to talk about.'
'Did she? Did she leave a number?'
'No. Matt might have one for her, though. I'll ask him.'
'She should call me. She's got my details. She knows I haven't got hers.'
Helen fiddled with her cup. 'What was it about, then? She seemed very keen.'
I smiled. 'It's a long story. I hope she gets in touch.'
'Try me.'
'Try you with what?'
'The long story. I'm a good listener.'
I considered it for half a second.
'Not yet,' I said. 'I'm not really ready to tell anyone. It all depends on what she's going to say to me.'
Helen looked at me for a while, then picked up our teacups, washed them up, and went upstairs.
'Got to get ready,' she said. 'It's date night.'
She went out half an hour later, looking far more subdued than normal. The long dress and cardigan she was wearing suited her far better than the sexy stuff she normally wore. These clothes covered up her bony arms and her match-stick legs. Her hair was silky, tucked behind her ears.
'You look lovely,' I told her. 'Seriously. You look absolutely beautiful.'
She beamed at me. 'Oh, thank you,' she said. 'I don't look frumpy, do I? Only I read something that said you shouldn't dress provocatively on a first date. I'm trying to do this properly.'
While she was out, she got a phone call. This intrigued me, because nobody ever phoned Helen.
It was a young man.
'Is that Tom?' I asked.
'No,' he said. 'It's Adrian.'
It took me a while to place him. I always thought of my ex-husband when I heard the name.
'From her old flat,' he prompted.
At this, I pulled myself together. I was spoiling for a fight, and this one would be perfect.
'Well, Adrian,' I said, 'I'm surprised that you've got the nerve to call. But then again, I know that she never spelt it out to you. She didn't dare. But she was on to you, Adrian. She knew what you were doing.
That
was why she moved out: you were spying on her. She
certainly
doesn't want to speak to you. Don't you dare call again. Understood? Or I will phone the police.' I waited for a response. There wasn't one. 'You see?' I asked triumphantly. 'You don't know what to say, do you?'
He cleared his throat. 'Er, you're right. I have no idea what to say.'
'So, piss off.'
He sounded strangled. 'But I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about. I didn't spy on Helen. Did she say that?'
'Yes she did. In no uncertain terms.'
There was silence. I made myself keep quiet.
'Oh, fuck,' he said suddenly. 'I think I know what she meant. That Sunday. When she moved out. I popped my head round her door to see if she'd like a cup of tea. It was nearly lunchtime, you see. I was being friendly. But she was on her bed, and she didn't have any clothes on. I jumped back out of the room pretty sharpish, but it obviously made her uncomfortable. I had no idea it had upset her that much. It was an honest mistake.'
I shook my head. 'Yeah, but I don't think it was just that. There were other things.'
'What other things? I would never spy on anyone. I had no idea that was why she left. I cooked her Sunday lunch. It's true that she didn't seem very happy, but I thought she was hungover. Then she vanished and we haven't seen her since. She didn't say anything in the note she left, just that she was leaving. We've filled her room. Got a new flatmate. I just wanted to make sure her direct debit was cancelled. Where is she? Is she at the café?'
'You cooked her Sunday lunch?' I tutted. The poor girl needed to learn to assert herself.
'Um, it sounds as if I owe her an apology. Can you tell her I'm truly sorry?'
I opened my mouth to respond, but decided to hang up instead.
22 June
I sat across the table from Matt, and played with my napkin. We were in an Indonesian restaurant. It was small and dimly lit, and although the tables were close together, it felt as if there was nobody else in the room. I wanted to appear highly sophisticated. I had never been to an Asian restaurant of any sort before. In France, I ate French food, provided by Mother, or I cooked for myself, which meant sandwiches and crisps, or nothing. Where I came from, there was French food, there was English Sunday lunch, or there was pizza. There were a few Vietnamese and Chinese restaurants dotted around rural France, but I had never been into any of them. None of my family had. It would not have occurred to us. Now I lived in London, and in London you could pick any country from the whole world, and get on the Tube and go to eat the food. We could have had Ethiopian, Malaysian, or Ghanaian food tonight. I chose Indonesian because I liked the word
Indonesia.
It sounded like somewhere I would never go.