The Love of Her Life (33 page)

And with that, she turned on her heel, something she had always wanted to do, and strode out, feet clacking loudly on the wooden floor, and for the first time in her life she felt like Charly must have felt, walking away from all those situations, totally in control, and it meant nothing to her, nothing at all. She carried on walking, oblivious to the sound of Charly calling her name.

Kate caught the tube to Holborn that evening. She was meeting Francesca in Exmouth Market, and she was early. She walked through Bloomsbury, hands sunk deep into the pockets of her jacket, and she looked around her as she went. The streets were busy, as always in Bloomsbury. Students, tourists, old couples, people sitting outside the Brunswick Centre under heated lamps. She walked around the edge of Coram’s Fields, through the sedate, quiet Mecklenburgh Square, and crossed Gray’s Inn Road. She loved the fact that, in this part of town, it seemed as if every other house had a blue plaque on it, marking the presence of some worthy who had lived there. Often they were incredibly famous and you stopped and said, ‘Huh! Thomas Hardy lived here? Wow!’, surprised that one of the greatest novelists in the English language had chosen to live in an OK but not that nice Pooterish villa overlooking the train tracks leading into Paddington. Just as often, however, they were people of whom Kate had never heard, but she liked that too, liked knowing that at 21 Mecklenburgh Square lived both Sir Sayeed Ahmed Khan, a nineteenth-century Muslim reformer and scholar,
and
R.H. Tawney, British historian and writer
(but not at the same time). Kate’s own favourite, as a late convert to karaoke, was David Edward Hughes (1831–1900), who had lived at 4 Great Portland Street. He had invented the microphone, and she would always be grateful to him for that.

It had been a long day, and a longer night, but now she knew her time in London was coming to an end, she owed it to herself to keep on going. Things kept falling into place, these last couple of days. Not necessarily the way she would have liked, but perhaps the way she might have predicted. Mac had said she kept her heart locked away. Well, if that’s what it took to get her through that strange afternoon with Charly, then fine. She thought about Charly, about how she couldn’t see past her nose, how she hadn’t altered at all, apart from the baby growing inside her. Kate saw now, the way she never had before, that they were totally different in that respect. Charly had seen it, she hadn’t. For Kate had changed outwardly, because she dressed better and had nicer hair and bought flowers for her flat and could talk to people at parties, more than when she was twenty-two. But that didn’t mean she was different. She was the same, just more grown-up. Same Kate. That, after all, was what was happening to them all, like it or not.

But she knew the next stage, where she felt all of this more deeply, would hurt her when it happened. She hated leaving London with her relationship with Zoe still so formal. She didn’t know how to cross the final divide that separated them. Perhaps that had been what forced her to drive Mac away. And she couldn’t think about that, yet.

So she didn’t, she walked instead, and she watched people go by, and when she got to Exmouth Market she was early, so she walked a little further, up to Sadler’s Wells, where
Rigoletto
was on that night. The audience was just starting to mill into the theatre. She stood for a while watching them
all, the excitement of the pre-theatre crowd, the pretty fairy-lights that hung in the trees outside. From her position on the opposite side of the road she could see people’s expressions, could tell if they were tired or excited or apprehensive, or if they’d had a bad day; the deliciousness of observing others unconscious of it. She felt totally alone, a unit of one, and it felt good to be on the other side of the road, watching from the sidelines.

When she reached the Ambassador on Exmouth Market, a few doors down from Moro, she decided to go in, even though she was still a little early. It was a sparse, frugal place, with white walls, floorboards, and a collection of junk-shop furniture, but the menu was all fresh, local produce, and the wine list was great, and Francesca loved it there. But as Kate opened the door, someone else behind her held it open for her.

She turned around.

‘Zoe?’ Kate said in surprise. ‘What are you doing here?’ She kissed her, in the doorway, and they got tangled up in each other’s arms, until Zoe pushed her friend firmly over the threshold.

‘I’m here to meet you,’ said Zoe. ‘Francesca’s not coming.’

‘What? Why?’ Kate said.

Zoe’s expression was set. ‘She rang me. We had a talk. And I’m here instead.’

‘Right,’ said Kate, and she felt guilty.

‘Francesca told me about Mac,’ said Zoe, propelling Kate firmly to a rickety table and chair. She pushed her down on the shoulder, and sat down opposite her.

‘Oh,’ said Kate, waving to signal for a waiter. ‘What – what did she tell you?’

‘That you slept with him, and he ran out this morning.’

Kate felt nervous, Zoe looked furious. ‘It wasn’t like that. Look, Zoe, I didn’t tell you because –’

The waiter appeared. ‘Goodeveningladies.’ He rubbed his hands together, impishly. ‘Well, well. Can I –’

‘Can you give us a moment,’ said Zoe firmly. ‘Just a little while. OK?’ She nodded at him. ‘Oh. Tell you what. Bring us a bottle of white wine in about five minutes.’ She turned back to Kate. ‘Where was I. You, Mac … um you … Yes.’ She crossed her arms. ‘You didn’t tell me. And you didn’t tell me that you came back last summer, and you didn’t see any of us.’

‘Well – I did, you see I –’ Kate faltered.

‘Oh, I know about that too,’ Zoe said. ‘You and Mac. Oh, Kate.’

‘Zoe –’

Zoe looked around the room, which was pretty empty, and she said in a clear voice, ‘She told me about Charly and Sean, too. You saw them today. And about the letters.’

Kate’s heart was racing. Zoe was being scary. She hadn’t seen her like this since – since when.

‘For god’s sake Kate, why didn’t you tell me any of this?’ said Zoe. She looked down, and smoothed the gnarled varnish of the table with her fingers.

‘About what,’ said Kate, helplessly.

‘Exactly,’ said Zoe, shaking her black hair. ‘Exactly. About everything, Katy, why don’t you tell me anything any more?’

‘You’ve got enough on your plate,’ Kate said, taking her hand. ‘I can’t bother you with all of that, I don’t want to after everything that’s happened –’

‘That’s
exactly
it.’ Zoe banged her fist on the table. ‘You’re my best friend!’ she said. ‘We tell each other stuff, OK?’ She looked down. ‘Well. We
should
tell each other stuff, anyway,’ she said, quietly.

‘I can’t ring you up and tell you about Charly and Sean, not after what I did to you,’ Kate exclaimed. Her throat felt thick. ‘I can’t say, Oh by the way, I saw my ex-fiancé today,
and his pregnant girlfriend, who’s been writing me weird letters, and neither of them seems to care, and it’s all my fault …’

Her voice grew louder. The waiter watched them, openly curious, and Kate dropped her voice instead.

‘I said to Mac this morning …’ she said. ‘I told him too … I don’t think you understand what happened that day.’

‘I do,’ said Zoe. ‘Kate –’

Kate held out her hand. ‘He saved my life. He pushed me out of the way. I was the one running away. I always run away. And Steve was the one who saved me.’ She swallowed. ‘
And it should have been the other way round
.’

‘No,’ said Zoe.

‘It’s true.’ Kate balled her fingers into her eye sockets. ‘It was my fault. I should have died. It was my fault.’

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Zoe cried, interrupting her. ‘Kate, it wasn’t your fault! There’s something I’ve never told you.’

There was silence.

The two friends looked at each other.

‘It’s not your fault,’ Zoe said, covering Kate’s hands with hers. She spoke softly, leaning in. ‘Look at me.’

Kate kept her hands pressed to her eyes. She found it impossible to look at her friend.

‘Oh god.’ Zoe said something under her breath. ‘I should have done this a long time ago. Kate, oh Kate.’ She pulled her fingers away from her face, staring at Kate, her eyes ablaze. ‘It’s not your fault! Look, you are not to blame for this, and I can tell you that till I’m blue in the face but you have to believe it yourself.’

‘You told me to go,’ Kate said softly.

‘Of course I did!’ Zoe cried. ‘It was the funeral, I’d lost my husband six days before and I was five months’ pregnant! Of course I told you to go, I was crazy! Because you kept coming round and trying to help, and no one could
help me,
no one
, and you just didn’t get it, and I – I –’ she shook her head. ‘I’m
not
going to cry. I wanted you out of my hair for a bit. You know? And you were so busy hating yourself I think you thought you were unclean, or something, and better out of it and so you left without even saying goodbye! And I hated you for leaving!’ She banged her fist on the table again. ‘You were my best friend, I just lost my husband, and you ran out on me when I was about to have another baby!’ Her voice cracked. ‘I needed you, Kate, more than anyone else then I needed you. And you left.’

‘You never said,’ Kate tried to justify herself, but even to her ears it was weak.

‘Neither did you,’ said Zoe. ‘Neither did you. And it’s all so ridiculous, Katy. Because if it’s anyone’s fault it’s mine, you know. I’m the one who should hate myself.’

‘What?’ said Kate, almost laughing. ‘You? Are you joking?’

‘No, no,’ said Zoe, and she leant in again. Her eyes bored into Kate’s, a clear, unflinching gaze. ‘This is what I mean.’ She swallowed. ‘It was never your fault. It was mine, if anything. You know. You see… I knew about Charly and Sean.’

It was quiet in the restaurant; Kate stared at Zoe, unblinking, till she could feel her eyeballs dry. She didn’t know what to say. ‘You knew – you knew they were having an affair? You –’ She trailed off.

‘Yes.’ Zoe nodded, her eyes never leaving Kate’s. ‘I knew. Steve told me. We had huge rows about it. I wanted to tell you. But I didn’t know what to do. I thought perhaps it would burn itself out. I couldn’t destroy your world. You were so happy, you’d been such a shy, unconfident thing, and now there you were –’ she smiled at the memory. ‘You were suddenly all grown-up, all happy and glossy and successful, and you had this wonderful life, and you
adored
him. You just adored him.’ Kate opened her mouth to speak,
but Zoe held up her hand, to stop her. ‘I couldn’t destroy all that for you. So I kept trying to get Steve to work on her, get her to see what she was doing.’ She grimaced, biting her lip, and her voice was unsteady. ‘Or to talk to Sean, make him understand how stupid he was being. I thought it might work out … you’d never need to know. So I never told you.

‘We knew what Sean was doing. We knew it was going on. Steve’s the one who took the decision to drive round there that day. I had lunch with you to distract you. And you know, I can’t help thinking – if Steve or I had told you, months earlier, none of this would have happened. You see? You’re the last person who should be blaming yourself. He …’

And then Zoe’s face crumpled, and she slid her tiny hands over her face, fingers pressed furiously to her skin, and she cried.

‘I was so wrong,’ she sobbed. ‘It was all my fault. I was so wrong, and I’ll live with that for the rest of my life. Without Steve, for the rest of my life. Oh god. I’m so sorry, Kate.’

Kate pushed her chair out and stood up, she crouched on the ground next to her sobbing friend, and threw her arms around her, and they stayed like that, not speaking, just holding each other, for a long time. Out on the street people carried on walking by, and Kate watched them, unseeing, as she hugged Zoe tightly, the view blurred with tears. She couldn’t speak.

‘She said we needed to talk,’ Zoe sobbed, dashing tears away from her cheeks.

Kate cleared her throat. ‘Who said that?’

‘Francesca. She said we were both being stupid … We have been, haven’t we?’

Kate nodded. She brushed a tear away from Zoe’s cheek
with her thumb, and sat back down in her chair. ‘We have,’ she said. ‘Not any more, but we have.’

This was their reckoning, the build-up of everything that had needed to be said for two years and more, and strangely there was little else to say. Zoe sat back and breathed out heavily.

‘Pff!’ she said, smiling rather soggily. She blew her nose loudly on the paper napkin. The waiter looked up at the noise; these crazy girls who burst in to a nice quiet gastropub, started yelling at each other and then sobbing hysterically, were they going to order something, at last, finally, at last? He clutched his notebook hopefully.

Kate wiped her cheeks with her fingers. They were both silent, staring at each other, as the waiter approached carrying a bottle of white wine and some glasses.

‘Are you ready for the wine?’ he said, a little nervously.

‘Ooh, yes,’ said Zoe. ‘Yes please.’ As he retreated, she said, ‘Well. Well well.’ But they both ignored the wine.

Despite herself, Kate opened her mouth, to ask Zoe something, and then she shut it again, and smiled at her friend. It was all retread, and it would always be there for discussion. She was just relieved that it was all out in the open; what a day, what a day, she thought.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘gosh.’

‘Indeed,’ said Zoe.

Kate grabbed her best friend’s wrist. ‘Look. We’re OK now, aren’t we?’

‘Of course we are,’ Zoe said, crossly. ‘We were before, if you hadn’t been such an ostrich about it. We’ve always been OK, I love you Katy, it’ll take a lot more than Charly Willis and Sean Lambert to shake us. Urgh,’ she said, her mouth a wavy line of distaste. ‘I can’t believe it. I bet he cheats on her, too. You mark my words.’

Something stopped Kate from telling Zoe this was true. She didn’t know why, she just knew she didn’t want to be involved with them any more, didn’t want to poison Zoe’s life with anything about them either. Best to walk as far away as possible from it all, that was it. As the waiter set some bread down on the table, she said instead,

‘Who’s got the children?’

‘Mac,’ Zoe replied briefly.

‘Oh right.’ Kate poured the wine. ‘That’s nice.’

‘Very nice of him to come over twice in two days, but that’s Mac for you,’ said Zoe. She exhaled deeply again. ‘Phew, I feel about ten years younger.’

Kate raised her glass. ‘You look it.’