Chapter 36 #2
‘Oh, no – I’m sorry,’ I say, rising and making my way to the fridge.
I try to remain as gentle and as small as possible.
The bottle opener is already out on the side.
I take one of his special IPAs and crack it open.
When I turn to hand it to him, he has moved.
Now he’s stood in front of my laptop, leaning forward, staring into the screen.
‘Was it nice to be back in the office?’ I ask. ‘The team must have really missed you.’
‘You’ve done 3,812 words,’ he says. He must remember yesterday’s word count off the top of his head. I have underestimated him. ‘Not quite your target.’
‘I know.’ I pass him the bottle. He keeps his eyes on the screen as he takes it. ‘But I’m really happy with what I’ve written.’
He nods. I watch him roll his shoulder a little as he scans through the document, trying to loosen a knot. ‘I’ll look properly later. Is everything done?’ he says. There is something in his voice that spikes my awareness. Its flatness. ‘For your mother?’
‘Yes. Bedding washed. Pillow mist sprayed.’ I smile. He doesn’t. ‘Ocado delivery done. Dinner prepped. Wine in the fridge.’
‘I saw that on the receipt. Not for you, I hope.’
‘Sorry?’
‘The wine.’ His tone is cold, the warmth of this morning completely evaporated.
He isn’t even pretending. It makes me immediately on edge, throwing my intuition off balance.
I can’t tell if I should try to close the distance between us or make it larger.
It is as if broken glass has been scattered across the floor: one wrong move and he will be alerted to what I have been doing.
That I am still lying to him. ‘No – of course not for me. For Mum.’
‘Good. You can’t be drinking.’
‘No.’
He takes a sip of his beer and exhales. Finally he meets my eyes. ‘We lost the deal today.’
A sharp heat moves through my body. ‘Sorry?’
‘The deal, Mal.’ His voice is hard. ‘Getting the rights to the book.’
‘The book?’ Which book? He told me the other day... Shit. I should know...
‘Jesus Christ.’ He shakes his head. ‘Yes, Mallory. The book I have been working to acquire for the past four months. We lost it. Today. Sony took it. And they offered less money. It’s not good.’
He turns away from me, rubbing his face again. There is a density in the air. A volatility. Something I have not felt for a long time. A pressure inside him, moving out into the air between us.
‘Oh, Ronan – I’m so sorry.’
‘I just...’ He glares out of the Crittall double doors, into the garden. ‘I just hope it’s all worth it,’ he says under his breath.
‘All of what?’ I immediately wish I hadn’t asked. I know what. Here. Him. Looking after me.
‘I had to meet with Theo after it fell through. He wasn’t happy. At all.’ Theo. His boss. The big boss. Oh, God. ‘He told me he thinks that me being away from the office for the past two weeks has contributed to the loss of the project.’
I watch him chewing his lip. Agitated. Restless. ‘Oh.’
‘Yes,’ he says quietly. ‘Oh.’
‘Well,’ I say gently. ‘I thought you being at home had been working out OK... They didn’t say anything?
I thought they encouraged it. Surely it can’t be the only reason?
’ I ask hopefully. As I watch him picking at the label of the beer bottle with his thumb nail, I remember the book.
Killing Me, about a girl who is used by a gang to smuggle drugs across county lines.
He said the author was too heavy-handed.
That she was a shit writer. ‘If I remember rightly, you said the money people made an error on the Zoom call with her – that they came across too strong? Could it not have been something to do with that?’
His slides his thumbnail through the wetness of the label on the glass, drawing a line straight through it. ‘Maybe.’
‘Ronan—’
‘We can’t both be jobless, Mal.’
‘Well, we won’t be. This won’t affect anything. They love you there.’
‘It affects everything. I have worked so hard.’
‘But—’
‘Mal, stop.’
‘I just—’
‘Mallory – stop.’ He slams his fist on the countertop, silencing me. The shock of it nearly winds me as the echo ricochets around the starkness of the kitchen. I hold my breath, unaware of what to do, or how to respond. He keeps his head down, looking at the marble, his fist still clenched.
‘Ronan...’ I say tentatively. ‘I know things have been a bit stressful...’
He shakes his head, making a thin, condescending laugh. ‘Things have been a bit stressful? Jesus Christ, Mal.’
‘I know. I know I’ve been a lot to handle—’
‘You have this incredible ability to make everything about you,’ he says.
‘Today was important. For me. And because I’ve had to be here, I lost something that was extremely important to my future.
To how other people view me. I need you to see that.
I need you to recognise that your actions have consequences.
I am trying to be responsible for both of us – but it’s not easy.
I can’t hold your hand through everything, Mal.
I know that’s what you need, but you have to start to look after yourself. I am sacrificing too much.’
I take a tentative step towards him. ‘Ronan, I’m sorry.’
‘Try and put yourself in someone else’s shoes for once.’
‘I really truly am sorry.’ I reach my hand out, to take his. Gentle. Careful.
He pushes it away. ‘Don’t. I’m not in the mood.’
‘Ronan, please.’ I try to take it again, but he grabs my wrist, hard. ‘Ow – Ronan—’
‘I don’t want you touching me.’
‘Ronan, let go—’
‘Hello?’ Mum’s voice. Through the letter box. From the front door. ‘Ronan? Mallory?’
He lets go.
Turns toward the sound. ‘Get the door,’ he says quietly.
‘Hi, Mum!’ I shout back. Voice shaking. Steady. Steady.
In the hallway, I catch my reflection in the circular mirror on the wall. Make sure my hair is messy in the way it should be.
I pull open the door. ‘Hi, Mum!’ Bright. Cheerful. That’s what she appreciates.
‘Hello, Mallory.’