Chapter Twelve
Abbey
I sat on the plane to Melbourne by myself, Friday at midday, having booked my flight two hours earlier than Nick’s. I planned to sort out Jack Fife without Nick and get back home before dinner.
As I sat, staring at the safety leaflet and the tray table ‘in the upright position’, I could not stop thinking back on the week that was. As far as weeks of my life where everything was a fucking nightmare went, this one was right up there.
Tuesday had been awkward after the family dinner. I spent the day avoiding him, only for him to amp up his charm. He was funny, smart and intoxicatingly beautiful. At work he listened to my opinion like that of an expert. I felt intelligent and important.
In the afternoon, a phone call came through from Ella’s school, asking me to submit the paperwork for the junior student exchange program. The principal was a lovely lady in her early sixties and, because Ella never got in trouble, we had an uncomplicated relationship.
‘Hi, Sue. I’m so sorry I haven’t returned them or the deposit. I’ve been busy at work, and it slipped my mind.’ In truth, I’d had to wait for a pay cycle to come around to scrounge together half of the deposit.
‘Abbey, that’s no trouble. One of the reasons I’m calling is to let you know that we’ve had a donation from a business, who is offering to cover the costs of the program in full.’
‘What? Really?’
‘Yes. The school always delights in finding benefactors.’
‘That’s amazing, Sue. You guys must be thrilled. Which business?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Which business donated the money? Did they just cover Ella’s?’ I turned and looked through the glass at the man sitting at the desk behind me. No way he did this. Right?
‘It was an anonymous donation, Abbey. And, no, it wasn’t just Ella. They covered another student as well.’
‘I see. Well … I’ll get those forms to you, Sue. But now I’ve got to get back to work.’ I hung up and stood. I was rigid with a fury I didn’t believe I had ever felt before.
First, I did not need to be fucking rescued by him, or Kate, or Gran.
It pissed me off that they thought I was weak.
Second, paying for my kid to take a life-changing trip because he was worried I couldn’t afford it …
told me there were feelings. More than that, it told me there was love.
And it was pissing me off that he would not admit it.
I walked into his office without knocking, marching straight past his desk into the kitchen. It was that or the bathroom, the only places in the office that would afford me the privacy I needed. I walked to the back wall and leaned my head against the cool marble surface.
‘Abbey, are you okay?’
‘Did you pay for Ella’s student exchange program?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘You heard me, Nick.’ I spun around to look at him accusingly, my arms folded against my chest.
‘Abbey, I …’ His eyes were shining, but he was not cleanly shaven and he looked tired, as if he hadn’t slept.
I had the urge to feel him, to feel his breath on me, to feel his lips on me, yet at the same time I wanted to rage at him – such was the nature of our relationship.
‘Yes, I did,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean for you to find out.’ He leaned against the bench behind him, sagging a little on it.
‘Why?’
‘Why what?’
I took three purposeful steps towards him. ‘Why did you do that?’
He swallowed and looked up at the ceiling, avoiding my gaze. ‘Because I can.’
‘Can you hear yourself? The things you say and the things you do tell me different things, Nick.’ I closed the gap between us, placing myself in front of him.
I put my hand on his heart and felt it thud comfortingly underneath me.
‘I do not want your money. I do not need saving or to be rescued by you.’
He breathed out and shook his head before placing his forehead on mine. ‘I know that, Abbey.’
‘Then tell me why, Nick? Let me in. Tell me why you do these things. For me.’
He put his hand over mine on his chest and we stood there for an age, simply looking at each other. He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, leaving his hand there, and I leaned into it. But I could not make him speak.
‘I need you to stop.’ I stepped away from him and left the office.
***
After work, I brought Gran home for dinner. Her and Kate’s chatter was sufficient to keep my mind entertained as I chopped salad and popped crumbed chicken into the air fryer. But it wasn’t sufficient to lift my mood.
‘Abigail, how is that lovely man of yours? I’ve not seen him this week.’
‘I’m not sure who you are referring to, Gran,’ I said. The absolute last thing I wanted to do was to think about him. I took a sip of wine.
‘You know, he came by a few times.’
‘Yes. They don’t have any family left. I think he just wanted to feel close to a family.’
‘You seem sad, Abigail.’
I turned around to them, heat in my cheeks and my heart rate thumping in my chest. ‘I am sad. I’m in love with him.
He does not love me. Or he does and won’t admit it.
Are you happy?’ I put my wine down on the bench.
‘So I have two choices: leave my job or put up with him and this situation until Ollie returns. It’s just …
you know, difficult for me to be near him and not be with him. ’
‘But, Abbey, you have the date with Sebastian. And, honestly, he is a significantly better option than Nick. I mean he is taller, more handsome, a doctor,’ Kate said. ‘He’s not a total commitment-phobe with more money than sense.’
‘Maybe you should date him then, Kate,’ I offered, sick of her shit and feeling exhausted.
She didn’t respond.
‘Abbey, you know, in the Duke’s Dark Desire: The Adventure to India – not my favourite, but still – the heroine, the Honourable Romola Le Monde, implements a set of rules to resist the duke’s brother Rufus St Morten. Perhaps that’s what you need?’
‘Rules?’
‘Yes, Abbey. Rules. The attraction, when it is so strong, is an exceedingly difficult thing to combat. I certainly felt it for your grandfather, Harry, while I was still married to his best friend, Ray. It felt stronger than anything I’ve ever felt, then or since, like somehow the earth had made two people who were meant to fit together, whose souls would call to each other no matter the circumstances. ’
‘Did you have an affair, Gran? With Grandad? I don’t think I’ve ever asked.’
‘No, child. It has never been my style. I was married, and that felt permanent. Ray wasn’t blind, though. It is difficult to hide from destiny, I’m afraid.’
‘He died in a car accident, didn’t he?’
‘Ray? Yes, child. I married your grandfather a fortnight later.’
‘Were people shocked?’
‘No one that mattered.’
I pulled out plates and the cutlery, while my grandmother continued her lesson.
‘Now, Abbey. Rules. You must implement lots of rules to ensure you don’t accidentally have sex.’
Ella walked into the kitchen at that exact moment and, without pausing, turned straight around and walked back to her room.
‘Rule number one … no skin-to-skin contact. No angsty, prolonged hand touching or grazing of fingers as you pass each other things.’
It was as if she had been a fly on the wall.
‘Rule number two …’ Gran took a sip of her wine. ‘No confined spaces. If you are in his office, keep the door open. If you are in a lift together, opposite walls.’
‘How does that work while I’m on a plane?’
‘Abbey, the last time I checked, it was your job to book the travel. Sort it out.’
I had been dreaming of our bodies being in close proximity, but the truth was that I would fly economy and he would not, so it would not have happened, anyway.
‘You must avoid extended eye contact. Holding a man’s gaze too long can suggest that you want him, the same as looking at his lips. It will not do. You must remove all of the period-drama tropes, my dear girl.’
I sighed. ‘I love those.’
My sister drank her wine and rolled her eyes at me.
‘Also remember, the less time you spend alone together, the less chance there is of having sex. Unless you want to add additional partners, in which case other people around might still make you want to have sex. I must say, Abbey, I tried group sex in between marriages during the eighties and found it highly overrated.’
Oh, my God.
***
On Thursday night, I’d had the rescheduled date with the hot doctor.
I made the bare minimum effort for my dinner with Sebastian. I had agreed to go, but, beyond that, I knew deep down my heart wasn’t really free to find love or even companionship with another. Still, a girl had to at least pretend to move on.
He had picked this dodgy-looking Turkish restaurant in Alexandria, which looked awful but served the tastiest food. The tables were the 1950s aluminium kind, and the chairs were in mustard and orange vinyl, which reminded me of my mother’s Tupperware drawer in 1987.
Sebastian was confident, intelligent, funny, apparently carrying these personality traits with a grace and humility that defied his handsomeness and his profession.
He was dressed in jeans and a Henley shirt in a soft caramel colour, which suited his eyes and fitted against his firm, gorgeously muscled chest. Other women could not help but stare at him, which was vaguely disconcerting, especially since he didn’t seem to notice.
He reached over the table to touch my hand when he was making a point about something. And when he drove me home, he got out and walked me to my door, before planting a kiss on my cheek, which was sweet but didn’t alter my pulse.
Kate was waiting expectantly in the kitchen; a weird nervous energy radiating off her.
‘Well, how was it?’
‘Where’s Ella?’
‘She’s doing her English assessment in her room.’ Kate was packing her bag for work and stopped to fill up her drink bottle, which was absolutely enormous. How she drank that much water in a day was frankly bizarre. All I could think was that I would constantly be on the loo.
‘How was it? He’s lovely, right?’
‘It was fine.’
‘Fine?’
‘Yeah, um, nice … I guess.’
‘Nice? You guess?’