Under One Sky

Chapter 6

6

Kate plonks the keys in the bowl on the little table next to the front door and removes her scarf. It’s late March, and there’s a distinct feeling of spring, having taken a long time coming, starting to lift the veil of grey from the lawns and the faces of the people in Claresham village.

Kate looks at her reflection in the long mirror. She didn’t realise when she joined the WI that she would come away from meetings and get-togethers feeling like the dowdy one. Her small face looks both young yet mumsy, as if she might have looked this age since her teens but has now caught up with herself. Her narrow shoulders, wrapped in a navy long-sleeved jersey top under the hug of a black cardigan, belie her soft stomach and doughy bottom half, squeezed into black boot-leg trousers that she knows won’t fit for much longer.

Unless I do something about it.

Her brown hair is tied in a scrunchie, and remnants of washing-up liquid that bounced unmentioned on her fringe this morning now make Kate think she walked through a spider’s web somewhere between Claresham Church of England Primary School, having deposited two embarrassed daughters and one cuddly boy into their classrooms, and the village hall.

How embarrassing! They must have noticed.

Kate mats her fringe down to hide traces of webbing and wonders what she would look like with red lipstick on. Would George find her sexy in red lipstick, or would that repel him too? She can’t think of an actual event she would wear red lipstick to. Perhaps the PTA summer social, if she can drag George along. He so hates these things and acts like a spoilt child in the weeks running up to them if Kate ever reminds him that it’s happening, and that so-and-so will be there. But when he’s there he seems to enjoy them and gets stuck in.

Kate takes her phone out of her cardigan pocket and slides it onto the telephone table. She remembers the text received by mistake this morning and feels discomfort in the pit of her hungry stomach.

Can’t wait for lunch X

Rewrapping her cardigan around her, Kate decides to leave the empty breakfast bowls for a bit longer, kicks off her shoes, and goes upstairs to their office. A little study at the top of the stairs that overlooks the satisfying neatness of their garden.

It was the neatness of the garden that won them over when they were looking at family homes in Suffolk. Kate and George were renting a one-bedroom flat in Blackheath when Kate fell pregnant with Chloe. George’s family were in Dorset and Kate’s were in Norfolk, but George relented and said Suffolk was as close as he could be to Kate’s sister and parents. They looked around many villages and towns, but Claresham made do, with its nice village green, strand of essential shops and decent schools. The house was a new-build in a cul-de-sac and Kate and George didn’t mind that it lacked character – the sixteenth- century cottages that lined the green were far too dark and pokey for a growing family. This greige house on The Finches was perfect: detached, functional, low maintenance. A good family home. The fittings were nice, the garden was spacious enough, if not very verdant, but that would come with time. There was a garage and space on the drive for two vehicles and, most importantly, it was a short car journey away from the train line to Liverpool Street where they both commuted to, working in the offices of Digby Global Investors in the City. Nowadays, Kate rarely goes further than the village.

Can’t wait for lunch X

Kate looks out onto the garden and sees a goldfinch on the bird feeder, but it doesn’t hearten her as it usually would. Her rumbling tummy makes her feel both fat yet hollow, and the agitation coming from within it gives her an urge to delve. She sits down at the desk and randomly taps a button on the keyboard to awaken the computer.

X.

Lights flicker and the machine twinkles at the attention. Desktop, dock, documents… Kate clicks on the tab that says ‘Google calendar’ and looks at the colour-coded diaries. George’s diary is blue. Kate never cares to look at it; she’s usually busy in the default family diary, which is colour-coded yellow, full of Brownies, Beavers, birthday parties, dancing and gymnastics. She looks at today, then clicks on George’s blue box.

Dentist 0830. Stand-up with Swiss team 1100. Meeting AIA 1130. Lunch B 1300. Toby appraisal 1530. Chloe school 1930.

Lunch B.

It must be Baz from the Sydney office. Of course; why would she think anything else? Kate blows a sigh towards the computer and sees her black muted reflection in the screen. Drawn and tired.

Maybe I will try the red lipstick for the PTA summer social. I’ve got four months to practise applying it.