Chapter 3 #2
Abi is careful to keep looking straight at him as she says, ‘Look, I had no idea you lived in Waverly, no idea you were Rosie’s husband.’
‘Bullshit.’
Rage takes her then, shakes her body and pushes her in the last direction her fear wants to move: even closer to him. ‘You piece of shit. I have just as much right to be here as you.’
‘Why the hell are you here?’ he demands, tiny flecks of spit exploding from his mouth.
‘Because this insanely privileged fucking bubble of a town is my chance to change my life. Waverly happens to be the best opportunity for my kids to live somewhere beautiful. Where people bitch about slugs in their allotments and their biggest issues are dog shit and potholes. OK?’
He looks startled, appalled perhaps that she is a person with a life, responsibilities, desires. He starts breathing quicker then, hyperventilating, heaving around his words. ‘I have children, too. A wife. God. I could lose everything.’
Abi stands back as he bends forward, hands on his knees, his breath coming in painful-sounding gasps.
She watches him fight to control his breathing.
When he looks up, there’s sweat on his brow, spittle at the corners of his mouth; his face has turned an unnatural red, just a shade lighter than the scar on his upper lip, the scar that had given him away in Rosie and Seb’s warm kitchen.
Abi is worried he’ll need an ambulance if he doesn’t calm down. She pulls out the nearest dining chair.
‘Sit,’ she says, ‘for God’s sake.’
He does as he’s told, elbows on knees, starts sobbing into his hands, making a quiet choking sound.
Abi glances out of the window to where Lotte is now shrieking at the poor traffic warden.
They still have a couple of minutes. Abi turns back to Seb coming undone in front of her, wishes she could simply leave him here, walk away.
But the rubble of his life is now mixed up with the rubble of hers. She has to stay.
‘Listen, Seb,’ she says as clearly as she can, ‘I haven’t come to Waverly because you’re here. I have no interest in hurting you. I’m not going to blackmail you or cause any trouble for you or your family. What happened between us was… well, it’s in the past.’
He looks up at her, his eyes swollen and raw. ‘What do you want, then?’
‘Like I said, I just want the same as everyone else. The opportunity to change my life. To be someone else.’
Listening to herself, she realizes how badly she wants to be here, to be part of something. It is only now, living in Waverly, that she appreciates how painful life was in London, always on the periphery.
‘I tried your phone– your old number,’ Seb says weakly.
‘I don’t use that number any more.’
‘So, you’ve totally changed?’
She wants to scream at him. But she knows she can’t. Not here, not in the fresh Waverly air, not with him in the clothes where he probably has a snack for his kids in the coat pocket, or when he can still feel the press of Rosie’s mouth on his cheek.
Abi knows better than to say ‘never’, so instead she shrugs and asks, ‘You?’
Seb stares at her, grinds his jaw. He swallows and says, like it absolves him of everything, ‘I love my wife.’
Abi doesn’t point out that that wasn’t what she asked.
He looks at her, brow furrowed, disgust twisting his mouth. It’s a look Abi knows well. Revulsion. Still, she’ll just about take it over pity. ‘Don’t you dare look at me like that.’
Seb hangs his head again and says, ‘Look, I’m sorry.
I’m sorry. All I want is to understand why you’re here.
What it means. Obviously, no one knows.’ He glances again at her, hoping she’ll let him off, but she won’t.
She’s been letting men off for years. She stares at him to make him keep talking and he does, but so quietly she can barely hear.
‘No one knows about us.’
‘Same here.’
He looks at her, startled. ‘What about your friends, your family?’
She could tell him the truth: that her only friends are her kids and an unpredictable Mexican chef who is also now her boss, and that her mum, still living on the estate where Abi grew up, hasn’t spoken to her for years.
But she won’t tell him any of it because there’s already sorrow rippling across his brow and the truth would probably tip him over the edge.
Just because she can cope with her story doesn’t mean other people can.
She just shakes her head.
‘Why are you here– in Waverly, I mean?’ he asks again.
She motions to the restaurant. ‘Like I said, for the opportunity. For my girls. For all of us. It was just time for me to move on. Just like you.’
He nods slowly, taking it in, taking the time to process the startling fact that she is just, well, ordinary.
‘What did you tell Rosie?’
He breathes out quickly and for a moment Abi thinks he’s going to start hyperventilating again, but he manages to keep himself steady. ‘I told her I had a migraine, that I had to lie down.’
‘She believed you?’ Abi knows the answer; Rosie isn’t stupid. Seb shakes his head.
‘After you left, she knew something was off. She asked if I knew you. I told her there was an issue with your daughter at school– a confidential thing– that you’d had a disagreement with one of the teachers and, well, that we’d had an awkward email exchange.’
‘Oh God.’
‘What was I supposed to do?’
‘Don’t bring my children into it!’
‘I’m sorry. I was in shock; I wasn’t thinking straight.’
‘She won’t believe it. I would have mentioned something like that to her before meeting you.’
It is clear then that Seb might be many things, but he isn’t good at lying.
‘Rosie messaged me this morning,’ she continues.
Seb looks up. ‘What did she say?’
‘She invited me and the girls over on the weekend and, no, I haven’t replied yet.’
‘What are you going to say?’
‘I’m not sure yet.’
‘Don’t– please don’t be flippant. This is my life, our lives we’re talking about.’
Abi’s about to ask whether he’s referring to him and her or to him and Rosie, but her eyes catch movement outside the window. The traffic warden is walking away from Lotte now, shaking his head, Lotte waving her arms, still ranting behind him.
They don’t have long.
Abi closes her eyes briefly. The veil between her old and new worlds is, in this moment, gossamer thin. She needs this to stop.
‘Look,’ she says softly but clearly, ‘we’ve got the same problem. It would be better– much better– for us both if no one finds out what happened.’
Seb nods. ‘I agree. I completely agree.’
Cool relief washes through Abi’s body.
‘I need you to distance yourself from my wife.’ Seb adds, ‘Please. No more messages, no more walks and no more invites to dinner.’
Anger ripples through her. She hates him, hates any man, especially this kind of man, dictating what she can and can’t do, but she concedes with a bow of her head.
Friendship with Rosie– real, true friendship– is no longer possible anyway.
How could it be when she’d previously washed her husband’s semen from between her legs?
Another wasted relationship to add to the pile. But Rosie isn’t Abi’s focus now.
‘What about Lily, school?’
Seb puffs out his cheeks, glances briefly at the ceiling. ‘I’ll be professional.’ He looks Abi in the eye as he says, ‘I promise I won’t treat Lily any differently because of all this. She’s a good kid, talented; she’s got nothing to do with any of this.’
Abi looks back at him and for the first time she thinks she might cry; kindness has always moved her more than cruelty. But she reminds herself now, looking at Seb, that kindness can be just another act.
‘Don’t ever tangle my girls up in another lie.’
He nods. ‘I’m sorry I did that. I won’t do it again.’
Then he lifts his hand to his face, and he starts to sob again, little whimpering sounds.
The whimpering turns into a kind of growl before he does something unexpected: he moves closer, towards Abi.
‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’
She’s confused. What’s he apologizing for?
For the unfair distribution of luck? Or is he apologizing for something more mundane, more familiar to Abi; is he apologizing for the ugly thoughts he has about her?
Or for wishing she didn’t exist, because the very fact of her reminds him of what he’s capable of, his duplicitous nature, the part of himself he has to work so hard to smother in all his fucking goodness?
She doesn’t know and, really, it doesn’t matter. Let his thoughts be his own. She wants nothing more to do with him. They both turn to see Lotte walking back towards the restaurant, her face gripped in anger, a yellow parking ticket twisting in her hand.
Abi takes a step back, away from Seb. ‘OK.’
She wants him to leave now but he asks again, needing more reassurance, ‘You won’t say anything?’
She looks at him one last time, directly into his pitiful, scared eyes. ‘No, Seb, I won’t. Just know that I’m protecting my children in this– not you. Is that clear?’
He nods and she’s glad he can’t say anything else even if he wanted to because Lotte’s back, a ball of spitting outrage as it turns out the laws of the land also apply to her and her Land Rover.
Neither Seb nor Lotte notices as Abi walks away from them both, back into the cool darkness of the kitchen.