Chapter Fifty-Four
Early evening drinks with Nick and his mother are truly hideous. Actually I’m not sure that hideous is the right word, it sounds too pedestrian, like the worst understatement in the history of humanity.
I remember Nick’s mother from my own world. I’d never been good enough for her baby; not attractive enough, or well bred enough, or wide enough in the hips to bear her the number of grandchildren she was angling for.
The Mrs Ingram senior in this world is even worse, evidently emboldened by six years of treating her daughter-in-law like shit and getting away with it. I spend the entire three hours wanting to smash my drink into her face. In the end I have to sit on my hands to stop myself.
In the car on the way home, Nick is quiet, his jaw clenched as if he’s about to say something but is holding back. But after ten minutes, he can’t help himself. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you, Bethany?’
‘What?’ I reply.
‘What? Are you shitting me? You’re like an entirely different person since the hospital.
Rude and abrupt.’ He pauses for a moment, as if collecting himself and his anger.
I gird myself for the next accusation. ‘And since when have you drunk gin and tonic?’ His hands clench on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.
What? I love a gin and tonic. All that delicious bitterness and the hit of the alcohol at the back of the throat.
Cesca and I drank an inordinate number of those premixed versions from M he’s the only one who might be able to figure out a way to fix everything. Without him I’m trapped here.
Luckily for me, Instagram is the best tool for wannabe stalkers and it doesn’t take me long to piece together enough information about Tyler’s life to figure out he’ll be going to the gym in Clapham before he goes to school this morning.
I have an hour to intercept him, but only if I can be on a train in fifteen minutes.
I can’t risk waking up Nick by going into our room and so I pull on the same outfit I wore yesterday, giving the top a tentative sniff to check I won’t instantly repel Tyler.
It’ll have to do. My body is heavy from lack of caffeine as I walk down the stairs and slip out of the front door into the morning sunlight.
When Tyler exits the gym, he finds me waiting on the wall outside, two coffees in my hands.
I jump up when I see him and I’m about to run to him when I remember he doesn’t know me.
In every other world I was his nemesis, the person on the periphery of everything he did professionally.
But here I am literally a stranger, a housewife from Reigate who he has never met.
‘Hazelnut latte with sugar-free syrup but extra cream,’ I tell him as I pass him one of the cups. I’m trusting that, whoever he may be in this world, he’ll still have a sweet tooth and a soft spot for fancy coffees.
He narrows his eyes as he looks at me, his hand instinctively reaching for the cup. ‘Do I know you?’
I swallow the bile rising to my throat as I realize just how much is on the line with this encounter. ‘I’m the one who sent you that email yesterday.’
‘Oh.’ He snatches his hand back, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket.
‘I promise I’m not crazy. Or a threat. Or some kind of scam artist. I’m just a woman who needs your help.
And trust me when I say that if there was anyone else in the world I could ask, then I would and I’d leave you alone.
But there isn’t. So here I am.’ The words come out in a rush, sentences merging together.
I want to get it all out, lay everything down so quickly he doesn’t have time to turn me down.
He stares at me for what feels like an eternity. Then he nods. ‘Okay. I have half an hour. But I’m not drinking that.’ He motions to the cup in my hand. ‘You never take a drink from a stranger, however elaborate their story might be. You must know that. Even my youngest students know that.’