Nick
Nick
One lunchtime Kate tells him that, somewhat inexplicably, she’s never been to London.
‘Never?’ he says, shaking his head in amazement.
‘Never felt the need,’ she says, as they pack away their gear. She pauses, one hand on her locker. ‘I don’t know if I’m being unfair but I really feel as though I wouldn’t like it.’
‘Huh,’ he says.
‘Well, do you like it?’ she asks, smiling at him.
He thinks of Canary Wharf, the time he spent living in the soulless tower. But then his heart is pulled towards the memory of Greenwich Park, the view across the city from the top of the hill.
‘Some bits,’ he says. ‘Some bits are alright. Listen, Kate, why don’t we go? This weekend? I’ll take you to my favourite part.’
She nods, smiles.
‘OK, you’re on.’
*
They take the clipper ferry from Waterloo Pier to Greenwich Pier, Nick trying to ignore the memory that keeps re-emerging, of the time he saw on Facebook that Beth had done the exact same journey with that arsehole of an ex-boyfriend. What was his name?
Paulo. That was it. Paulo the twat.
When they get off at Greenwich, he walks her past the Cutty Sark and the Old Royal Naval College and he’s amazed at the crowds. So many more than he remembers. How can London have got so much busier in the time he’s been away?
‘What’s the date today?’ he says, swallowing.
‘I don’t know,’ she replies, glancing at him. ‘6th? 7th? Not sure.’
It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t need to know. It’s better if he doesn’t.
They turn into Greenwich Park but he stops short.
‘What is it?’ she asks, squeezing his hand.
‘Let’s go somewhere different,’ he says. ‘The Point. It’s a steeper climb but the view will be better.’
It’s true but it’s also disingenuous. He doesn’t want to climb the hill in the park with Kate because one of his favourite memories is of the day he did it with Beth. He’s not sure how many years ago now – five or six? More? Either way, that day stands out as something precious, a rare jewel in a time in his life that was otherwise filled with blackness and confusion and insomnia.
When he looks back on that time, he pictures himself as a hamster running on a wheel, compelled by an illogical urgency. Knowing that if he dared to stop at any point, he would be thrown off by the force he had already set in motion.
‘Bit too early for the sunset,’ Kate says, as they reach the summit and take a seat on the bench. ‘But I bet it’s something.’
Nick’s eyes try to take it all in: the expansive skyline, an ever-changing city.
‘It’s pretty impressive no matter what time of day,’ he says, and she rests a head on his shoulder and they sit there for a few moments in silence.
As always when they are allowed some space, his thoughts wander to Beth. Hoping that she’s OK. He’ll text her later, make a plan to meet up. It’s so comforting to know that she’s close by again.
It feels a little disloyal, sitting here with Kate and thinking of Beth, but he pushes the feeling away. They’re just friends.
Eventually, Kate shifts on the seat beside him and stands up, stretching her arms across her head.
‘This would be a good place to do yoga,’ she says.
‘You’re not the only one who thinks that,’ he says, and he gestures to a small cluster of women grouped beneath a tree, mats rolled out in front of them.
‘Oh,’ she says, and she smiles.
*
As they make their way to the queue for the return ferry, Nick feels a sharp tap on his shoulder.
He turns, confused, and it takes a few seconds before he recognises the woman standing behind him.
She’s clutching the hands of two children: one tall, one small.
‘Oh my God, I thought it was you!’ the woman cries, and that’s when he realises who it is.
Rosa.
‘Parker!’ she says, dropping the children’s hands and taking a step forward, as though to embrace him. ‘I can’t believe it! I saw your back and I thought that hair looked familiar…’
Kate moves away slightly.
‘Hi,’ he says, stunned. ‘Rosa. It’s been…’
‘Forever,’ she says. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you moved out of London after the…’ She lowers her voice, glances briefly to the side. ‘The divorce.’
‘I did,’ he says. ‘Just up for a day trip.’ He gestures towards Kate. ‘Showing Kate the sights.’
Rosa gives a tight nod.
‘Oh right, hi,’ she says, looking at Kate for the first time. Rosa holds out a hand, which strikes Nick as awkward and formal and almost a bit aggressive. ‘Kate. Wow, you look young. I’m Rosa. I was at university with Nick. Well, briefly…’
She tails off and Nick’s legs begin to feel unstable.
‘Briefly?’ Kate says, shaking Rosa’s hand politely. ‘That sounds intriguing.’
‘It’s a long story,’ Nick says, shooting Rosa a warning look.
‘Mummy, I want an ice cream,’ the little boy whinges, tugging on her arm.
‘I told you, in a minute,’ Rosa hisses. ‘This is mummy’s old friend. Let me talk to him for a second, for God’s sake. It’s been all about you kids all bloody day.’
She turns back to Nick.
‘It’s good to see you looking so well,’ she says. ‘I was worried about you… You stopped replying to my messages.’
‘Did I? I lost my phone a couple of years back,’ Nick fibs, wishing he’d never had this stupid idea to come to this stupid park today. ‘Also, well, you know… life. Haven’t these two grown?’
He nods at the two children. The youngest is staring mutely up at him with huge round eyes. They both have their mother’s dark hair but they have something else that she doesn’t have, that he’s not sure Rosa ever had: innocence.
‘We should try to go for dinner sometime, have a proper catch- up,’ Rosa says. ‘But in the meantime, let’s get a photo? Here, Fabian, take a picture of mummy and her friend for me will you?’
She hands the older boy her mobile phone. He’s clearly well trained and he holds it up as she nestles an arm around Nick’s shoulder with inappropriate intimacy and shoves her cheek towards his.
‘Say cheese,’ the boy says, and surprisingly Nick finds he does as he’s told, all the while wondering why on earth Rosa would want a picture of them together.
‘Lovely,’ she says, examining the shot. ‘That’ll give Daddy a nice surprise won’t it? Perhaps he’ll think twice next time he says he’s too busy to come out with us.’
Nick frowns. The boy glances somewhere to the left, his expression unreadable. Christ, these poor kids. Rosa is as awful as he remembers.
Why on earth was Anna ever friends with her?
The answer brings a pang of pain to his heart. He knows why. Because Anna was nice. Anna was kind, caring, loyal. They’d grown up together and Anna must have known something about Rosa that made her see past her bad behaviour.
Or perhaps Anna’s death made Rosa like this.
Anna never lived long enough to do anything wrong, to fuck anything up. She’s immortalised at eighteen, too young to be culpable of anything, like a saint.
‘The ferry’s here,’ Kate says, softly, tugging on Nick’s arm.
‘Oh, are you going back by ferry?’ Rosa says. ‘That’s cute. Proper tourists.’
‘It was nice to meet you,’ Kate says, smiling at her.
‘Oh, you too,’ Rosa says, and then she pauses. ‘Keep an eye on this one won’t you? He was always… a bit. Well, a bit of a mystery. We never could quite figure him out.’
*
‘She was weird,’ Kate says as they sit together on the ferry.
‘Yeah,’ is all he can offer in response. ‘She always was. Sorry about that.’
‘That’s OK,’ Kate says. ‘Is she an ex or something? Why would she want to take a photo with you?’
‘I have no idea,’ he replies, but his answer isn’t strictly the truth. He does have an idea. ‘I think perhaps she wanted to make her husband jealous. But no, she’s not an ex.’
Kate shakes her head.
‘Some people are so odd,’ she says, simply. ‘I’m glad we’re not like that.’
He squeezes her hand, wishes he could see the world through her eyes: as a place of promise, hope, and opportunity.