Chapter 42
FORTY-TWO
When I saw Luke’s reaction to seeing Rachel, my first instinct was to comfort him. But I didn’t get the chance: the two of us stood there, frozen, for just a few seconds, our drinks forgotten in our hands, before Luke moved away from me. Hesitantly at first and then more purposefully, he edged his way through the crowd towards the window where she was standing.
I could see Rachel’s friends nudging one another, their whispers inaudible to me over the music. I knew what they were saying, though – He’s here. He’s seen her. Shit, he’s only turned up with his new girlfriend.
As I watched, Luke put his hand on Rachel’s shoulder. She turned to look at him, the purple and orange lights from the balcony illuminating her face. Whatever had been there before – the smile, the bravado – had vanished and she looked small and vulnerable, the swell of her belly beneath her white dress seeming almost too heavy for her slight frame to support.
She sketched a gesture with her hand – Shall we go outside? – and Luke nodded – Sure. Even from the back of the room, I could feel the blast of cold air as she opened the door and the two of them stepped out.
Then the wave of self-doubt that had been held back by shock overwhelmed me. Had he known all along – lied to me by omission to lure me into a relationship in spite of still having one with his pregnant ex-girlfriend?
But that didn’t make sense. Luke wasn’t like that – I didn’t want to believe he could be like that. Nothing about the way he’d treated me or his reaction to seeing Rachel suggested anything other than total shock and disbelief. For those few long moments, I’d almost forgotten that I existed, but now I became conscious again of my own presence in the room, alone and superfluous, the eyes that weren’t fixed on Luke and Rachel watching me curiously.
What’s she going to do? Is she going to dump him?
I wasn’t. But, pathetically, I felt as if I’d already been dumped: as if all the months of closeness and laughter and sex between Luke and me might as well never have happened.
There was no one there I could talk to. No way of fronting it out, having another drink, shrugging and saying they’d find a way to figure it out.
Luke and Rachel were still out on the balcony, still talking intently. His back was to me, so I couldn’t see his face, read his reaction. Abruptly, my mind turned to self-preservation. There was no place for me here in this room full of strangers. Any moment, someone might come over to me and ask me if I’d known, how I felt, whether I was okay.
I wasn’t able to deal with any of those questions – I didn’t know the answers.
I turned, feeling as if I was in one of those dreams where however much you try to hurry, you’re moving in slow motion, as if through water or syrup. I went into the kitchen and put my cup down among the litter of bottles and crisp packets. Then I let myself out of the flat and, as if released from the dream by the cold night air on my face, I almost ran down the stairs, out of the front door and into the street.
Clumsy in my high heels, which had felt perfectly comfortable when I’d left the house on Damask Square, I hurried back towards the Tube station, my feet skidding on the fallen leaves that blanketed the pavement, taking a wrong turn down an unfamiliar street before getting my bearings again.
Like an animal fleeing to its burrow, all I wanted was the safety of the house, the calm reassurance of Orla’s presence, the hum of the kettle and the purring of the cat.
It was almost eleven when I reached Damask Square, but the light in the kitchen was still on. I could hear the clink of Orla’s teaspoon in her saucer and her voice as she chatted nonsense to Maud.
Relieved, I stepped through the hallway, ready to make myself comfortable and unburden my worries to Orla. But then I stopped, paused in my tracks by a wave of horrified guilt.
Orla herself had had an unplanned pregnancy. She hadn’t mentioned the child’s father, but of course there had been one – perhaps a man who’d abandoned her, making it impossible for her to keep her baby. All these years later, she was still living with the trauma of that decision.
There was no way I could confide in her about what I’d learned tonight, or ask for her advice on what to do about it.
Praying that she hadn’t heard me, I turned and crept up the stairs to my room. I took off Orla’s grandmother’s dress and placed it carefully on a hanger, feeling a pang of sadness as I remembered the giddy excitement with which I’d put it on earlier in the evening. I couldn’t wash off my make-up without Orla hearing me in the bathroom and realising I was home, so I did my best with a handful of wet wipes, put on my pyjamas and got into bed.
Then I waited. I heard Orla coming up, the usual near-silent pad of her footsteps as she got ready for bed, the click of her light switch, and then the lighter, quicker tap of Maud’s paws as she joined Orla on her bed.
It was another hour before Luke got back and I had almost given up hope, convincing myself that he was going to stay with Rachel in her North London flat. Relief washed over me when I heard his key in the lock, immediately replaced by a churning lurch of apprehension when he tapped softly on my bedroom door.
I got out of bed and opened it. ‘Hi. Thank God you’re back. Are you okay?’
‘Hi.’ He pulled off his absurd vampire cloak and sat down, reaching for my hands but not meeting my eyes. His shoulders were slumped beneath his black jumper. ‘I’m fine. But… Liv, I’m sorry.’
‘Sorry for what?’ My mouth was dry.
‘Sorry that happened to you. Sorry I didn’t notice you leaving and come after you. Sorry I didn’t text you.’
Not, Sorry I’m going back to Rachel. That was something. But the weary set of his shoulders and the look in his eyes – resignation or perhaps even defeat – told me he was anything but fine.
I said, ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’
He half-shook his head, but it turned into a nod. ‘First of all, I had no idea. Genuinely. Do you believe that?’
I had no reason to doubt him. ‘Yeah, I guess so.’
‘Rachel said – she told me that when she found out, she couldn’t make up her mind what to do. She thought about – you know. Terminating the pregnancy. She had an appointment booked and everything. But she couldn’t go through with it. And then she thought she’d just go ahead with having the baby on her own.’
If only she’d stuck to that , I thought. Then I realised how deeply selfish that wish was.
‘So she waited until tonight for you to find out,’ I said.
‘I don’t really get why.’ Luke shrugged. ‘But she was nervous, I suppose. She’s always had a bit of a sense of drama. And she wanted her mates there, in case I went off on one.’
Which was basically what I’d guessed, in those few moments before Luke had left my side and gone to her. ‘But you didn’t.’
‘What would be the point? It’s done now. There’s no going back. She’s having the baby. And I…’
‘You what?’
‘You know, Liv. It takes two to tango. It’s not like she made this happen on her own. I’ve got to take some responsibility.’
I felt tears begin to spring up in my eyes and grabbed the handful of grubby make-up wipes, pretending I was dealing with a stray mascara smudge as I dabbed my lower lids.
‘What are you going to do?’ I asked.
‘Rachel said it’s up to me. She’s going to want money – at least, the child’s going to need it. This isn’t his fault.’
‘It’s a boy?’
He nodded. ‘She found out a while ago. Anyway – she says I can be involved or not.’
‘And do you want to be?’ My voice was calm, but the sick churning was back in my stomach. I didn’t know what Luke’s answer would be, but I knew that tonight had changed everything.
Or rather, not tonight. A night months ago, before I’d even met Luke, when he and Rachel had lain together in bed in the flat they’d shared, and an accident of biology or a moment of carelessness or a deliberate decision on her part had decreed that what was happening tonight would happen.
Inexorably, between then and now, time had been moving towards this moment, and I’d had no idea.
It’s so unfair! my mind screamed. But there was no point in thinking that way.
‘Liv, I… I’m going to be a father, one way or another.’ He lifted his shoulders then let them drop back down, squaring them as if he was bracing himself for something. ‘I can be a shit, deadbeat one who sends money here and there, or I can do my best to be a good one. There’s nothing between me and Rachel any more, but I want to be part of my son’s life.’
‘I understand.’ I felt a rush of admiration for him – already, he’d made the decision. He’d chosen to do the right thing and not the easy one. He knew what it was like to grow up without a father and he didn’t want that for his own child.
‘Liv, I don’t want this to change anything between you and me.’ He was speaking in a rush now, as if he was desperate to convince not only me, but himself. ‘I’ll have to get a job. A proper one – either for a construction company or… something else. I can’t make art pay, anyway. I might have to find somewhere else to live – somewhere closer to Rachel and the baby. But I still want to be with you.’
But it won’t be the same. The knowledge lay heavily on my heart.
I heard Luke take a breath, and as he released it, he said, ‘I love you.’
I reached for him and held him close, able at last to offer the comfort I’d wanted to give him back at the party.
My voice muffled by his shoulder, I said, ‘I love you too.’
But already I was wondering how many more times I would get to say it before we weren’t able to love each other any more.