Tami’s up in her office working on her latest project that’s going to transform the image of some small or even large company from ‘very nice looking’ to ‘extremely slick and stylish’, while Scotty’s messing about on his computer somewhere.
I wonder if something’s happened?
The taxi driver continues on his route to my house.
I’m not sure what could have happened on a Thursday evening in Hove that would cause them to go to bed so early, but if something has, I’m sure I’ll find out about it soon enough. Nothing stays secret on the Close for long.
Tami
Fifteen years ago
‘Are you sure?’ Scott said to me.
‘Yes. I wouldn’t have told you if I wasn’t sure, would I?’
‘And you’ve done a test?’
Reaching out, I picked up my cloth bag, delved inside and pulled out the white sticks to show him. ‘Try six tests. And, funnily enough, they all say the same thing.’
He brought the heels of his hands up to his face, pressed them on his eyes. ‘Ah …
Man
!’ Scott had just watched his dreams of continuing to better himself with an MBA disappear in a cloud of nappies, late-night feeds and Babygros. While watching his future plans disappear he was also wondering if he did in fact love me, if he’d made a mistake about that and how it might be possible to get out of it.
I sat with my bag on the floor between my feet, the tests burning a hole in my hand, watching him go through the same process I had done hours earlier: I had watched my next promotion to head of the Corporate Communications department shimmer and disintegrate in my mind’s eye, then had questioned my feelings for him. That had lasted for seconds, a minute at the most, certainly less time than his questioning seemed to last.
‘I thought you were on the Pill,’ Scott eventually said, his accusation buried deep in his tone, but plain in his phrasing.
‘I am. But that’s only ninety-nine per cent effective. Meet the lucky one per cent. I should buy a lottery ticket.’
‘This isn’t funny.’
‘Actually, it is.’ He sat in the only armchair he had in his bedsit,his legs curled up under him, his face chiselled from stone. ‘It’s bloody hysterical. It’s going to get a whole lot funnier if you ask me if I’m sure it’s yours.’
He redirected his line of sight, even though his face remained like stone, telling me I was right, he had wanted to ask.
‘You’re a bastard, you know that?’ I said. ‘I can’t believe I fell for all that talk of love when you’re just a complete bastard.’
Leave, Tami, just leave
, I told myself.
Get out of here and start to make your plans.
I carefully laid the six white sticks on the edge of the bed, picked up my bag while I stood up and pulled myself together. ‘I’ll see you around,’ I threw at him, knowing I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t see him again. Even if he did try to change the course of this, if he did try to make things right, I wouldn’t want to see him again. ‘Maybe.’
When the front door to his flat clicked shut behind me and wasn’t immediately whipped open again by him asking me to come back, my heart fell. I stood for a few seconds, gathering myself together again. I had to have lunch with my family, I couldn’t go there in a state, I had to strengthen myself against this. I had to ignore the hollow space where my heart should be, concentrate on the future that was growing inside me instead.
In the darkness of the room, I stare out of the window, the unsynchronised breathing of Cora and Anansy the soundtrack of my thoughts. I watch a taxi turn into our road and then move at a snail’s pace up towards Mirabelle’s house. I’m sifting through my life, the mine of my memories, trying to find that imperfect jewel that has been hidden in my past, mostly ignored, but holds the vital clue as to why he is in a police cell and I am in a life that feels a lot like hell.
Fifteen years ago
‘I can’t believe you forgot to get chips for me,’ Sarto said,
I wonder if something’s happened?
The taxi driver continues on his route to my house.
I’m not sure what could have happened on a Thursday evening in Hove that would cause them to go to bed so early, but if something has, I’m sure I’ll find out about it soon enough. Nothing stays secret on the Close for long.
Tami
Fifteen years ago
‘Are you sure?’ Scott said to me.
‘Yes. I wouldn’t have told you if I wasn’t sure, would I?’
‘And you’ve done a test?’
Reaching out, I picked up my cloth bag, delved inside and pulled out the white sticks to show him. ‘Try six tests. And, funnily enough, they all say the same thing.’
He brought the heels of his hands up to his face, pressed them on his eyes. ‘Ah …
Man
!’ Scott had just watched his dreams of continuing to better himself with an MBA disappear in a cloud of nappies, late-night feeds and Babygros. While watching his future plans disappear he was also wondering if he did in fact love me, if he’d made a mistake about that and how it might be possible to get out of it.
I sat with my bag on the floor between my feet, the tests burning a hole in my hand, watching him go through the same process I had done hours earlier: I had watched my next promotion to head of the Corporate Communications department shimmer and disintegrate in my mind’s eye, then had questioned my feelings for him. That had lasted for seconds, a minute at the most, certainly less time than his questioning seemed to last.
‘I thought you were on the Pill,’ Scott eventually said, his accusation buried deep in his tone, but plain in his phrasing.
‘I am. But that’s only ninety-nine per cent effective. Meet the lucky one per cent. I should buy a lottery ticket.’
‘This isn’t funny.’
‘Actually, it is.’ He sat in the only armchair he had in his bedsit,his legs curled up under him, his face chiselled from stone. ‘It’s bloody hysterical. It’s going to get a whole lot funnier if you ask me if I’m sure it’s yours.’
He redirected his line of sight, even though his face remained like stone, telling me I was right, he had wanted to ask.
‘You’re a bastard, you know that?’ I said. ‘I can’t believe I fell for all that talk of love when you’re just a complete bastard.’
Leave, Tami, just leave
, I told myself.
Get out of here and start to make your plans.
I carefully laid the six white sticks on the edge of the bed, picked up my bag while I stood up and pulled myself together. ‘I’ll see you around,’ I threw at him, knowing I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t see him again. Even if he did try to change the course of this, if he did try to make things right, I wouldn’t want to see him again. ‘Maybe.’
When the front door to his flat clicked shut behind me and wasn’t immediately whipped open again by him asking me to come back, my heart fell. I stood for a few seconds, gathering myself together again. I had to have lunch with my family, I couldn’t go there in a state, I had to strengthen myself against this. I had to ignore the hollow space where my heart should be, concentrate on the future that was growing inside me instead.
In the darkness of the room, I stare out of the window, the unsynchronised breathing of Cora and Anansy the soundtrack of my thoughts. I watch a taxi turn into our road and then move at a snail’s pace up towards Mirabelle’s house. I’m sifting through my life, the mine of my memories, trying to find that imperfect jewel that has been hidden in my past, mostly ignored, but holds the vital clue as to why he is in a police cell and I am in a life that feels a lot like hell.
Fifteen years ago
‘I can’t believe you forgot to get chips for me,’ Sarto said,
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