Chapter 42
Nigella is on her best behaviour as I drive her home. There’s no seatbelt strangulation or stalling. She also doesn’t spit out the CD I listened to.
My legs ache as I climb the stairs to my flat. All the swimming I have been doing is good for my mind but it’s hell for my muscles.
Oliver isn’t home when I get in. After making myself some beans on toast, I sit with Lenny on my chair and think about my aunt and Hilary.
I want to sit down and talk to my aunt about what I’ve found and ask her why she’s not replied to Hilary.
She has probably been trying to forget about her, but from what I saw earlier, Hilary is still on her mind.
The vision I see whenever I touch Aunt Polly is bugging me as well.
For years I have assumed the silver bracelet with the padlock belonged to Sandra; now I am wondering whether it’s Hilary’s.
The problem I have is that my aunt gets defensive whenever I talk about Hilary and right now, she’s going through a tough time, and I don’t want to cause her any more pain.
Perhaps when she’s in remission I could take her for a long walk on the beach and talk to her.
I still haven’t read Mum’s notebook. With everything that has happened with my aunt and Hilary I feel emotionally and physically spent. It will keep.
Oliver is not home by the time I go to bed. I try to stay awake, but exhaustion takes hold of me.
CRASH. I sit up in bed with a thudding heart. What was that?
The flat door slams. I can hear someone staggering up the hallway. The bedroom door bangs open and Oliver bursts through and falls onto the bed, knocking over the pillow wall. I can smell beer.
Anger floods my body. ‘Oliver,’ I yelp. ‘You said you wouldn’t wake me up in the middle of the night.’
‘Fucking Rory,’ he slurs, rolling onto his back. ‘I hate him.’
‘Oliver, I need to go to sleep.’ The clock is telling me that it’s half past one in the morning.
‘I hate Rory.’
He’s so drunk. I can’t sleep here. I snatch a pillow and get out of bed.
‘Where are you going?’ Oliver groans.
‘I’m not sleeping here.’ I stride across the bedroom. ‘You’re drunk and you’ve ruined the pillow wall.’
‘Nelly, I’m not that drunk. I had two pints.’
‘Oliver, we both know drinking is not one of your strengths.’
He rolls over onto his back. ‘Rory made me angry.’
‘This is not healthy, Oliver.’
‘Tell Rory that.’
I turn to him. ‘Oliver, you need to sort out your issues with Rory because this is not right.’
‘What’s not right?’
‘This…’ I point to him. ‘You should be focused on Alfie, not Rory.’
He sits up and rubs his face. ‘Rory is playing happy families with my son. I want to…’ He falls back on the bed and shuts his eyes. His words fade and are replaced by loud snores.
I can’t sleep. I’m so angry at him for doing this. I stupidly assumed he was dealing with his issues. I hug my knees and sit in my chair.
My anger subsides after a while.
* * *
‘Nelly, wake up,’ says Oliver. ‘Your alarm is going off.’
I wake up in a fright. I must have fallen asleep here in my chair.
He’s standing opposite me, and he’s dressed. He’s even tamed his hair. What’s going on?
I watch him scratch his stubble-coated chin. ‘Nelly, I let you down last night and I’m sorry. I woke up an hour ago.’
I rub my eyes. ‘You’re dressed.’
He nods. ‘I’ve decided to go back to London. Living here hasn’t worked out.’
My heart grinds to a halt. The words hit like a slap. ‘What?’
‘Last night I got in a fight with Rory.’
I gasp. ‘A fight?’
‘Yes. I was drunk. He had put this video of Alfie on Facebook…’
‘What was the video?’
He bows his head. ‘Alfie was calling him Daddy.’
A lengthy silence descends upon the both of us. I know that must have caused Oliver pain.
‘All I’ve done since I moved in is hurt you, Nelly, and annoy Rory. It’s time for me to return to London.’
I stare at him. ‘What about Alfie?’
He shakes his head. ‘I will see him when I can.’ I watch as he bows his head. ‘Thank you for everything, Nelly. It was…’ His voice cracks.
Tears rush to my eyes. ‘You’re leaving?’
‘I’m sorry for everything,’ he says with watery eyes.
I watch him head for the door and pick up a bag. ‘I have sent you money for two months’ rent via my bank account. I have also you texted you my address in Acton. My flat hasn’t sold, which is a sign. I need to go back.’
‘But what about us?’
He looks back at me. ‘I can’t hurt you any more, Nelly.’
After he leaves the flat, tears stream down my face. This must be what heartache feels like. The urge to go to get a bowl of cereal, return to my bed, switch on daytime TV and stay there for the rest of the day is strong. However, I have a job.
The bookshop is busy, which is a blessing as it keeps me from stewing over Oliver leaving.
I see a few sad customer visions, but I am already feeling low, so I don’t pay much attention to them.
Seeing Oliver’s books on the display table makes my chest ache and I quickly blink away my tears.
At lunchtime, after a little cry in the back room, I google the opening hours of the local swimming pool and decide to pay a visit after work.
What I have learnt over the past few weeks is that water can help me.
The day goes by quickly and soon there is only fifteen minutes left till closing time. I am looking forward to going home, grabbing my swimming costume, driving to the sports centre and entering the water.
‘Hello, Nelly,’ says a familiar voice. I look up to Henry. He’s smiling, and for a few fleeting moments, I forget about my heartache. ‘I was wondering whether you fancied meeting up one lunchtime this week. We could try the new coffee house which has opened on the high street.’
I want to hide away and feel sad about Oliver leaving. ‘Thanks, Henry, but I’m—’
He interrupts me. ‘Please let me take you for a coffee. I want to make it up to you after I told you about our mothers arguing.’
His eyes have a sorrowful look about them. He’s an old friend and if it wasn’t for him asking me to keep hold of Margo’s book I would never have gone back to swimming. Perhaps he could cheer me up – or at the very least provide some respite from my thoughts about Oliver.
‘I will come,’ I say. ‘When?’
He takes out his phone. ‘Tomorrow – Friday?’
‘Sounds good.’
With a smile he nods. ‘I’ll come in about midday, and we can go from there.’
I watch him leave the shop and then I inform Miranda I’m leaving a few minutes early. The water is calling me.