Chasing Innocence (3 page)

Saturday mornings after the pool she waved farewell to her dad, walking through the park to the library where she stayed until it closed. Who could blame her for not returning to that flat? The afternoon she spent drifting in and out of shops and returning to the park, where she sat on her coat reading a book. If it was raining then she would tuck herself in the corner of a coffee shop, counting her money for the shake and big cake, studying her puzzles and busy writing her hopeful stories.

Simon knew her routine better than she because she did not comprehend routine. He knew what she would choose to do in any given circumstance, after weeks of watching her, studying the streets of this market town, the ebb and flow of the people, their attitude and attention to detail. Planning his routes of escape, his long journey home.

A pink figure appeared in his rear view mirror and slowly grew. Her hair was wet from the pool. He watched her walking along the path, expectation slithering inside as she scuffed past, those weary boots kicking through leaves. This was not the place. Like the flat there was always someone watching and too much he could not control. He knew where though. Andrea collected her dad’s prescription on Saturday afternoons and waited for him in the mouth of the alley.

THREE

Adam waited as Sarah locked her car, draping his arm across her shoulders as she drew level. They walked through the open car park to a narrow alley, its dirty red brickwork curving away to shadow, empty bags drifting in small circles at the entrance.

‘Where to first, Mrs Sawacki?’ he asked her.

She looked sideways up at him. ‘The Pine Store, we need somewhere for all your books and magazines.’

He groaned. ‘A bookcase! Where on earth would we put it?’

Sarah gave his question serious thought, as if she had not already measured and knew exactly where it would go. ‘In the corner, behind the armchair.’

‘Is there space?’

‘I think so.’

‘Maybe we could check out the estate agents first?’ he offered hopefully.

She stopped, stunned. ‘Adam, you’re kidding? We’re not buying somewhere bigger just because you don’t tidy. The last thing we need is a move.’

‘I wasn’t thinking move away, just somewhere…’

‘Like a house,’ she finished for him, studying his face. ‘You’ve thought about this?’

‘A little.’

She pushed her hands into her coat pockets, not sure what to think. ‘I don’t want change, not yet. I love where we are, not just Hambury but the flat, our life now. We’re anonymous here, just faces in the crowd.’ Perplexed, she walked away, still talking, ‘What would be the point, can’t we just be happy in this life a while?’

They emerged from the alley into the High Street, a busy human tide surging in all directions.

‘You know I want the same things, Sarah, but…’

‘But what Adam?’ She knew of course what the
but
meant, that you put more than books into houses. Families lived in houses, a topic they almost always silently avoided.

Adam was not about to provoke an ice age. ‘OK! I’ll do you a deal. We take a peek at the estate agents and I’ll be your obedient shopping buddy.’

‘We simply can’t afford…’ Her voice trailed away, her eyes on his, calculating. ‘OK, let’s check your estate agents. You have any in mind?’

‘There’s some by the station.’ He was wary at her sudden turn. ‘You sure?’

‘Yes, Adam, if it’s important to you. We’re only checking them out. Then we can go buy the bookcase, and I need a new suit for work. Then we’ll feast in the market square and you can tell me all about that surprise you’ve been going on about all week.’

Which now felt far from the gleaming beacon it had. She reached up and affectionately swept the hair back from his forehead. ‘Cheer up.’

He smiled back and they started towards the station.

FOUR

Several estate agent brochures were now buried at the bottom of Sarah’s bag. The bookcase had been chosen over coffee from a shortlist compiled as they filed between stores. It was being delivered Tuesday. Adam had then spent an hour waiting outside various changing rooms while Sarah toiled over trousers and loose suits, all part of her ceaseless quest to break the pull of eyes to her body. A difficult illusion, always undone when she moved.

It was after two by the time they were seated in their favourite pizzeria. Adam’s menu lay on the table. He rarely varied his choices. Sarah was studying hers, tapping a finger against her chin, as if its contents were entirely unknown to her. He shifted his attention from her considered expression to the dynamics of those around them, couples and parents and excited children, barely-contained teenagers, sun-dried grandparents and pink-cheeked babies. The cacophony was laced with shuffled cutlery, the crash of stacked plates, and espresso steam. He craned sideways to see if two men were holding hands.

‘Five o’clock.’

He jumped. ‘Sorry?’

‘Five o’clock,’ she repeated.

He turned in his chair, following her gaze to the door. A thirty-something woman was communicating with a waiter using expressive hand gestures.

Adam turned back. ‘Wow.’ He sneaked another look as the woman took her seat by the window.

Sarah leaned in. ‘Who’s she meeting?’

‘You first,’ he returned.

She studied the woman. ‘That’s a polished look, but she’s out for the day, not meeting a man.’

‘Really?’

‘Yup,’ Sarah said confidently. ‘Definitely not meeting a man. Possibly a girlfriend but that’s a lot of razzmatazz. I’d like to see the girlfriend.’

Their waiter arrived, his pen poised. Adam ordered and then, after further consideration, Sarah made her choice. They were soon alone again.

‘Your turn,’ she said.

‘Hang on.’ He gave the woman another look; her elbows were on the table, her chin resting on steepled fingers as she stared out of the window.

He looked back at Sarah. ‘It has to be a first date, maybe a second.’

Sarah groaned loudly and heads on adjoining tables turned in their direction.

‘Sorry Sarah, I didn’t hear you?’

She reached across and smacked him on the shoulder. ‘You’re embarrassing me, Adam.’

‘I’m embarrassing you? I thought you were doing quite well by yourself.’

Smiling, Sarah rested her elbows on the table, mirroring the posture of the window woman. ‘So you think she’s meeting a man?’

‘All that effort isn’t going to be wasted for no reason.’

‘No, Adam, you would dress up to go on a first date. Maybe the second, if I recall correctly, but then you’d revert to type.’ Delivered imperiously. ‘But that whole look could be a misdirection, all that mechanism in her appearance could be designed to hide something.’ Sarah paused and contemplated. ‘Maybe a scar or something.’

‘Phew, that’s a lot of deduction from glossy hair and sparkly earrings.’

She grinned at him and took a sip of her wine. ‘In fact there’s something a little sinister about her, don’t you think? She’s deflecting attention from something.’

‘Possibly.’

They both leaned back as their food arrived. Sarah picked up her fork, using it to re-arrange the aubergines on her plate. They ate in silence, lost to individual thought while listening to the ebb and echo of the restaurant.

‘So what’s this big surprise?’ Sarah eventually asked, idly pushing her last piece of torn chicken around the plate.

The question completely wrong-footed him. He spent seconds grasping at the plausible rationale he had rehearsed.

‘Well, it’s not really that important.’

‘Really?’ She looked at him, wide eyed. ‘It’s been the big secret all week.’

‘I know, but it can wait.’

‘It bloody can’t, tell me.’

‘I’ll tell you when we get home.’

‘You will tell me now or lose me forever.’

Her eyes were sparkling, her mouth soft and smiling. Her obvious ease in the moment gave him a fool’s hope.

‘Well, you know how work gave me a new client?’ he began, cautiously.

‘The bank?’

He nodded. ‘They also offered me more money.’

‘Really, oh Adam that’s great.’ Then she leant forward and whispered, clandestinely, ‘How much?’

‘Twenty.’

‘
Thousand
?’

He nodded, and the air in her lungs escaped in one long burst, washing warm across his face with a hint of Valpolicella.

‘God, Adam, that’s amazing. That’s almost what I earn in a year. What made them do that?’

‘They hadn’t given me a rise for three years.’

‘I know, but from nothing to that, after so long. There must have been a reason?’ She studied his face, expectant.

There was a reason, of course, which was the detail he was worried about. He had thought about lying, but he considered lying to Sarah to be on par with taking money from children.

So he breathed in and told her. ‘I resigned.’

‘You did what!’

Heads turned in their direction. He lowered his voice, attempting to compensate for the rise in hers. ‘I resigned; but it’s cool. I knew they would come back.’

‘But…our flat.’ Scarlet crept up her neck for a second time that day as she tried to hold on to the moment. ‘What if they hadn’t come back, Adam?’

‘But they did, Sarah. It’s not like I’m unemployable if they hadn’t.’

‘You risked everything without saying anything to me?’

‘Sarah, I didn’t risk anything. I knew they would offer me a rise, they as much as told me so and I wanted it to be a surprise. I thought you might be happy.’

‘I am, it’s just, well, Adam!’ She looked away, then realised the obvious. ‘So this is why the interest in estate agents?’

‘Well kind of, I’m not trying to pressure you…’ He reached forward and drank some of his beer, making sure he got the next bit right. ‘It just seemed this was as good a time as any. We could check what’s out there, no rush or anything.’

Sarah stared at him thoughtfully. ‘You’re throwing me off centre, Adam. I’m perfectly happy where we are. We finally get ourselves settled after all that mess and you want to change everything. We don’t have to spend the money, we could save more.’

All that mess! He thought to himself, he knew she meant more the aftermath.

‘There’s a little more, kind of,’ he said.

‘There is?’

‘They also offered me an extra day working from home.’

Sarah rolled her eyes. ‘What is your fascination with not going to work, you should go out and meet people, you know.’

‘I meet plenty of people, Sarah.’ Frustration was eroding his reserve. ‘If I only have to commute twice a week that’s good with me. Besides, one day we might be grateful one of us can be home during the week.’ As soon as the words left his mouth he wished he could have pulled them right back.

Sarah went very still. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Having placed himself on the precipice it was now crumbling. ‘Well, you know, if we ever…’

‘Started a family. That’s what you’re going to say, isn’t it?’ Suddenly she had difficulty knowing where to put her hands. ‘You know I won’t, Adam, I can’t, not a child. Not into this world.’ She gestured as if the evidence surrounded her. ‘I just can’t. Why would we want to change what we have now, after everything? You said you were indifferent about kids.’ Her last comment was loaded with hurt, as if he had lied about the one thing she valued above all.

It had been a hard day skipping around his wife’s frailties. ‘I was indifferent then, Sarah, but that was five years ago.’

‘There is no way I’m bringing a child into this world. Not me, Adam.’ She scraped back her chair and stood, her arms hanging awkwardly at her side. Her mouth opened as if she were about to say something else, but she stopped herself. Instead she grabbed her bag and turned to the toilets.

FIVE

Adam spent most of the following minutes wondering how the conversation had gone so bad. He watched Sarah walk back to their table, her movements now devoid of their usual poise and fluidity. She rested her hands on the back of her chair.

‘Look, I’m going to go and cool off.’

‘Sarah, sit down, I’m sorry.’

‘No Adam, you’re fine, we both know who’s the fuck-up in this relationship.’ Her voice was raw and full of emotion.

‘That’s nonsense. Sit down, please!’ He tried keeping his voice quiet but they were increasingly the focus of surrounding tables.

Sarah shook her head. ‘Give me an hour or so.’ She checked her watch and pulled on her coat. ‘I’ll meet you outside the alley at four thirty.’

He looked blank, so she elaborated. ‘The alley next to the car park, Adam, beside Boots!’

‘OK. Sarah?’

She did not answer, lifting her bag as she left, the door slowly closing behind her.

Sarah turned left outside the restaurant, heading across the square with no particular purpose or destination in mind. Just walking, hoping momentum would ward off her thoughts. She threaded between the stream of shoppers, went past the church and over the bridge, drifted along the High Street before stopping and turning back to the bridge. She climbed down the steep steps to the towpath, passing bars that backed on to the canal and a chorus of leering cheers. She entered the park, which was almost empty, only a man and a young boy untangling a kite and a mother with a monster pram heading at speed towards the town.

Sarah flopped down on a bench facing the canal, losing her thoughts in the water and the overcast sky reflected in its ceaseless movement. A few swans showed interest before realising a lost cause.

She was tired, exhausted from combating this gnawing torment at every turn. The fear and anger was always coiled inside, waiting to be set free. Why did Adam have to push now? Just as she was relaxing into this new life. She and Adam were good together. The men in her previous relationships had quickly grown frustrated by the need she created in them that she could not satisfy. Adam struggled, she knew that, but his nature was too caring and gentle to pressure her. He was the constant and reliable presence in her life that she gravitated around. Except the same qualities she cherished the most were now leading him towards wanting a family. The thought of a child petrified her, the fear that her child might suffer even a small part of what she had been through. She could never live with herself. She would never let it happen.