March #2
‘Well, it looks a lot brighter, for one thing,’ said Frank, pointing to the sky, which after cleaning had turned from yellowish green to bluish white.
I followed his gaze as it slid down to the grassy dunes.
‘And more realistic now that you can properly see all those highlights and shadows.’ When he turned his attention to the church tower, his gaze hooked on the tip of the spire, the point of which seemed sharper and polished to a shine.
‘I’m glad you approve,’ I said, dipping my head at him and standing back to get a better look myself.
My shoulders were stiff from spending the day hunched over the panel, and when I raised my arms towards the ceiling to stretch them out, my fingers interlinked, there was an audible crack.
A couple of years earlier Noah had tried to persuade me to buy one of those foam cushion supports, and had held up his hands in defence when I’d reminded him how old I was.
Now I was beginning to wonder whether it was time to place an order.
Frank cleared his throat, probably out of habit, though perhaps to remind me why he was here.
‘Sorry,’ I said, letting my arms rest back down by my sides. ‘Want to take some paint samples now?’
‘No, you’re all right, just keep doing what you’re doing.’ He held out a flat palm, which I tapped with my own. ‘I’ll come back in the morning.’
He did, and the morning after that. By the third morning, I’d reached the sea.
Like the sky, it was visibly disfigured from a build-up of varnish and overpaint.
The paint handling where the waves ran perpendicular to the beach was rough and patchy.
I dipped a cotton swab in the solvent mixture and touched it along the horizon line, working from left to right.
I was about halfway when it happened. Again, more recent restorations began to dissolve along with the discoloured varnish.
Roughly in the middle of the line where the sea and sky met, dark specks started to appear.
I kept at it, moving the swab in concentric circles, and soon the specks formed a rough human figure.
A human figure hovering on the horizon. Walking on water.
Once more, I could feel a stiffness settling across my shoulders, but this time I found myself unable to look or move away.
I replaced the stained cotton swab with a clean new one and carefully turned my attention to the patch immediately to the figure’s right.
Steadily, a triangle began to emerge, a shade darker than the figure.
I was following its curve skywards when someone appeared by my side – the lingering scent of smoke and liquorice let me know that it was Frank.
‘How goes it?’
I could tell from the tone of his voice – flat, even – that he wasn’t seeing what I was seeing. The rustle of paper suggested he was reading, probably the culture section. He and Douglas liked to keep on top of what was showing at the theatre ; I got all my recommendations from him.
‘Frank?’
‘Hm?’
Still reading.
‘I think I might have found something.’
More rustling.
‘Frank?’
‘What on earth?’ He was leaning forward, his face almost level with mine, the paper fallen to the floor.
At last, I put down the swab and sat back to get a better look.
For a few seconds, neither of us said anything, our eyes taking it in. The seconds turned to minutes and still we stayed silent, each of us turning over in our mind the possible outcomes and what it could mean.
Then : ‘Frank?’
‘Yes?’
‘There weren’t windsurfers in the sixteen hundreds, were there?’
I looked at my phone as I walked to the Tube.
I had one email from my mother floating the idea of us spending the May bank holiday weekend in Norfolk to coincide with her seventieth birthday, another from Noah about an invitation to have dinner at Daniel and Griz’s place next week ( Yes, no, maybe? ), and three WhatsApps from Anna.
The latest : Just checking you’re getting my messages …? xx
Before that : We won’t be late, just having dinner down the road with one of Caleb’s colleagues and his dull wife, lol. Trust me, I would get out of it if I could!
And before that : Hello, I don’t suppose you’re free this evening, are you? Babysitter bailed. ARGH. And she waited until now to tell me, why???
Noah was out that night – a monthly pub quiz with colleagues – and I was looking forward to having the flat to myself. I’d planned to put on my pyjamas and watch one of those personal trauma documentaries that I love and he hates. For dinner, I’d thought I might treat myself to a takeaway.
I could see that Anna was online, watching, waiting.
She would be able to see that I’d finally picked up her messages, those fickle ticks turning from grey to blue.
While I was staring at the screen, a fourth message landed : I’ll put a bottle of wine in the fridge AND order you some Ottolenghi (please?)
I paused at the top of the stairs that spilled down to the Tube, deliberating, then realised I was blocking the way of blinkered commuters and quickly joined the descent.
I supposed having Anna and Caleb’s house to myself wouldn’t be all that different from being home alone.
The pyjamas might have to wait, but that I could cope with.
I actually fancied something a bit greasier than Ottolenghi, but I couldn’t complain.
And Theo was such an easy kid. The last time I’d babysat, he hadn’t made a noise all night – to the extent that I’d felt the need to check on him every twenty minutes, just in case.
I started typing : Sorry, yes, I’m free
Anna : Thank you!!
Me : Be there in about forty-five minutes x
Anna : WINE IS IN THE FRIDGE
Theo was already in bed. Literally.
‘We’ve just started putting him down in his bed rather than the cot,’ explained Anna, quietly, holding her hand to her chest and smiling, a cocktail of happy and sad. ‘He’s had a couple of tumbles, but fingers crossed he’ll sleep through tonight.’
‘Wow, he’s growing up.’
‘He sure is,’ said Caleb, less quietly, walking down the hall in black jeans and a sleek grey shirt and giving me a kiss on each cheek. ‘Cathy, hi, sorry you’ve been roped into this.’
When he and Anna first got together, I was sceptical – of his good looks, his expensive, white-soled trainers, and the amount of time he spent alone in his studio with beautiful young women.
But I was wrong. Caleb’s kind and caring and, to be honest, just the right amount of cool.
When I’d told Anna I thought so, she’d pretended to be disappointed : Wait, so you don’t think he’s a player, not even a little bit?
‘No need to be sorry, it’s my pleasure,’ I said, laughing as he raised his eyebrows. ‘I mean it.’ Turning back to Anna, I told her not to worry. ‘If Theo wakes up, we’ll be fine. You know, I’m pretty good at doing the voices in his storybooks.’
‘Thanks,’ she said, shaking her head as if she was, in fact, erasing her concern. In its place, she applied some rosy lipstick.
‘Hey, I hear my wife told you the good news?’ As Caleb grinned, his ears lifted a smidge. One was pierced with a tiny gold stud.
I glanced at Anna, or rather her reflection ; she was looking into the large, round mirror by the door, and when she caught my eye, she smiled and nodded while rubbing her lips together.
‘She did,’ I said. ‘Congratulations!’
It turned out a test had swiftly confirmed Anna’s hunch.
‘I take it you guys haven’t changed your minds?’ asked Caleb.
Anna laughed out loud, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand, eyes flashing towards the stairs, wood painted white with a stripy blue runner.
When Theo didn’t make a squeak, she returned her lipstick to her handbag and her attention to Caleb.
‘Oh, yeah right, you know they’re not interested. ’
Her words nicked my skin, sharp and pointed like barbed wire.
‘That’s not true,’ I said, before I could stop myself, my self-doubt rearing up at her decisiveness.
I tried to keep hold of my voice, which, to my embarrassment, was shaking slightly ; I clumsily cleared my throat and continued, hoping they hadn’t noticed.
‘We love hanging out with Theo, and Dan and Griz’s kids. Both of us.’
‘Of course, I didn’t mean that,’ she said, still smiling, but with a faintly furrowed brow. In comparison with mine, her voice was steady and self-assured. ‘I just meant you don’t want children of your own, especially Noah. Imagine!’
The nicks dug a little deeper. I rubbed my arms. I’m not sure what bothered me more, what she said or the certainty with which she said it.
We’d all spoken about children before, so it’s not like it was a secret that Noah and I didn’t want them.
Maybe it was the fact that she’d had these conversations with him herself, back when they were together.
I felt my face redden – after eight years of marriage, I should have moved on from how we met.
I tucked my hair behind my ears and surreptitiously, I hoped, touched my fingers to my flushed cheeks.
Oblivious, Caleb swore under his breath. ‘Wine. I’ll grab a bottle from the rack, then we should make a move.’
As he went stomping off towards the kitchen, Anna shushed him. ‘For fuck’s sake, you’ll wake up Theo!’ Then she turned to me, without a hint of a smile : ‘I’m sorry, Cathy, is everything all right? I really didn’t mean—’
‘It’s fine,’ I said, still feeling flushed. I realised I hadn’t taken off my coat and added, ‘I think I’m just overheating!’
She clearly wasn’t convinced, even when I started to unbutton my coat, my fingers fumbling over the buttons, because she didn’t stop talking. ‘Did I say something wrong?’
I looked down at the tiled floor then back up at her eyes, which like indicators were flicking left and right, searching mine for some form of explanation. Still grappling with it myself, I waved away her question with a flick of my wrist. ‘Ignore me, please.’