The Best of Times (61 page)

“No. No, I wasn’t.”

He did look at her now; she was very pale suddenly, and very still, her eyes darker.

“Go … go on,” she said. Her voice was strange, rather breathless …

“And … well, it just went on from there. Our relationship. It developed so quickly. It sounds kind of … well, cheesy, I know, but I couldn’t seem to help it. Neither of us could. We saw each other a few times, not many at all, but we did decide … well, I … I was going to tell you that night.”

“What night?” she said. Very slowly.

“The night your father died, I was waiting for you, and then while I was waiting your mother phoned, and of course I couldn’t … then.”

“No. Well, that was … very good of you.” Her voice wasn’t breathless now; it was low and very level.

“I know I’m a shit, Amanda. I know I behaved badly. Terribly badly. But … well, I did want to take care of you while you were so unhappy.”

“Yes, I see. And … what about her? Emma. While I was so unhappy?”

“I didn’t see her. Of course. We agreed it would be very wrong.”

“Nice of you both.”

He was silent; then he said, “Anyway, it’s over. For what it’s worth. Finally, I mean. She … finished it. She said it mustn’t go on.”

“Right. Well, that was very noble of her.” There was a silence while she looked round the room, rather wildly, as if she was seeking an escape, her eyes brilliant with tears. Her voice wasn’t tearful, though; it was still very level. “Yes, Barney. Very noble. I don’t suppose it occurred to her that it shouldn’t have gone on while you were engaged to someone else. Or occurred to you …”

“Amanda, I know that, obviously. Of course it shouldn’t have gone on. I can’t justify it or even explain it. I just didn’t seem to be able to help it.”

“No. So you keep saying. Anyway, it’s … it’s over, is it? Have you seen her since?”

“No. I haven’t. And yes, it is over. But … well, that doesn’t quite alter what I feel for you. Now.”

Another silence; he could feel her gathering her courage to go on.

“And what’s that?” she said finally.

“It’s not the same, Amanda. It just isn’t. It doesn’t feel right anymore. It used to be so perfect, and now it isn’t. I still love you very much, but—”

“Oh, please. So all that time while I was so wretched over Daddy and his funeral and even Christmas, you were thinking about her?”

“Well … in a way, yes. I was. But—”

She was crying now. “But it was her who finished it?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Well, good for her. At least she has some sense of right and wrong. I suppose you thought you’d just let it go on and on, enjoying both of us … or maybe you weren’t enjoying me. Just staying with me because you were sorry for me. God, Barney, that’s so horrible.”

“Amanda, I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough. I do still love you. Very much.”

“Yes, you keep saying. But … you … you don’t want to marry me, is that it?”

There was a long silence; it was the most difficult thing he had ever done, but he managed it.

“Yes, Amanda,” he said. “I’m so sorry, but that is it.”

• • •

When he heard the car finally pulling away from the house he picked up the phone and called Tamara.

“You cow,” he said. “How dare you, how dare you do that.”

“Do what?”

“You know perfectly well fucking what. Tell Amanda about me and Emma.”

There was a long silence; then she said, “Barney, I didn’t. I really, really didn’t.”

“But”—now he really was going to throw up—“but she knew. She said you told her.”

“I didn’t tell her about you and Emma, Barney. I told her about Toby and what he’d done to you. And me. That’s all. I swear to you, that’s absolutely all.”

CHAPTER 48

“Mummy, I want to go and get some sweets and my magazines.”

“Daisy darling, I’m awfully busy. I’ve got these plans to finish for someone.”

“You’re always busy now.”

This was true; it was the only way she could distract herself.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. Maybe when I’ve finished … Oh, no, Granny’s coming to take you all to the science museum.”

“Again? Boring.” This was Charlie.

“Charlie, don’t be rude. If you can’t find anything to interest you there, then I’m sorry for you.”

He shrugged. “So? It’s boring.”

“But, Mummy,” said Daisy, “I so want my magazines. Especially
Animals and You;
it’s got a free necklace. I could wear it to the museum and show Granny.”

“Daisy, I just haven’t got time.”

“It’s not fair. You never have time anymore.”

“Yes, darling, and I’m sorry. After this job, I won’t be so busy. Promise.”

“You said that last time,” said Charlie.

“Charlie, will you please stop being so difficult.”

“I’m not. I’m just telling the truth. And why shouldn’t Daisy get her stuff if she wants to?”

“Could Charlie take me?” said Daisy.

“I’m not taking her,” he said.

“Charlie, that’s not very helpful.”

“So? I don’t want to; I’m going to go on the computer, look at my Warhammer stuff.”

“Charlie, you are not going on the computer.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m about to need it, that’s why.”

“That is just so mean. Anyway, I’m not taking her to get her stupid comic.”

“It’s not a comic.”

“Daisy, it’s a comic.”

Laura suddenly lost her temper.

“Charlie, stop being so difficult. Now, get your coat and Daisy’s and take her to the shop.”

“No.”

“I hate you,” wailed Daisy. “You’re so mean.”

“Charlie, I’m not telling you again. If you don’t take her you don’t get your pocket money, and then you won’t be able to buy any more Warhammer stuff.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“I don’t care. Go and get the coats. And, Charlie, look after her properly; don’t walk miles ahead.”

She’d at least get ten minutes’ peace. And maybe if she finished sooner, she could go and meet them all at the science museum for tea.

It was a difficult job, this one: a very dull modern flat that the owner had requested be given “some character. Only not too modern. Maybe a bit pretty, even. Curtains, not blinds, that sort of thing. But still contemporary; I don’t want it to look like something out of the seventies.”

Such instructions were fairly common.

Charlie and Daisy walked along the sidewalk, Daisy chattering, Charlie kicking a stone, ignoring her.

• • •

“Charlie, if I got a kitten, which I think I might—Mummy said just possibly—what shall I call it?”

He shrugged.

“I thought Paddypaws would be a nice name.”

“It’s a stupid name.”

“It’s not. It’s sweet. Well, what would you call it?”

“I don’t want a stupid kitten.”

“Kittens aren’t stupid.”

“Course they are.”

“Well … what pet would you like?”

“I don’t want a pet.”

“Everyone wants pets.”

“I don’t. Well, maybe a boa constrictor.”

“What’s that?”

“A snake.”

“A snake! You couldn’t have a snake; where would you keep it?”

“In my room.”

“Charlie, you’re so stupid.”

“Oh, and you’re not, I s’pose. Look, here we are. I’ll wait outside. Be quick; don’t start looking at all the other comics.”

“They’re not comics.”

He shrugged.

She came out, clutching several magazines and a bag of sweets.

“OK. All done.”

He began to walk faster; Daisy had to half run to keep up with him, and dropped one of her magazines.

“Charlie! Wait for me!”

“Well, buck up then.”

“I can’t buck up. I’ve dropped one of my magazines.”

He stood, arms folded, elaborately patient, while she picked everything up, then set off again.

“Look, here’s a picture of a kitten—look, isn’t it sweet?”

“No.”

“It is. And … Charlie, please wait; you’re doing it again. I can’t keep up …”

“Well, walk faster then …”

“I am walking faster. Oh, no, now the cover’s ripped off; it’s got the necklace on it. Charlie, wait, wait …”

But he didn’t wait; and he didn’t see the crumpled cover of the
magazine caught by the wind and blown across the road; nor did he see Daisy dashing into the street after it. He only heard things: a car, driving fast, faster than usual down the road, a scream, a screech of brakes, a hideous silence. And then he turned and he did see: the car halted, slewed across the street; a man, not much more than a boy his face distorted with fear, getting out of it; and Daisy, lying horribly, horribly still where it had flung her, facedown, her long, fair hair splayed out, one small hand still clutching her bag of sweets, and her pastel-coloured magazines filled with pictures of smiling little girls fluttering away down the street.

• • •

They were sitting there in Emergency together when Jonathan arrived: Lily and Charlie. Lily hurled herself at him, crying, “Daddy, Daddy, do something, please, please, make her better, make her better.”

Charlie was sitting, arms folded, shoulders hunched, his head somehow sunk down into his body. He didn’t look up.

A young man with a shaven head was sitting two chairs away from them; he was a greenish colour.

“Where’s Mummy?”

“In there,” said Lily. She nodded towards a set of double doors. “With Daisy.” Her blue eyes were enormous with fear.

“Charlie, what happened?”

“She … she ran into the road.”

“Into the road. But … how, why …”

The young man stood up, came over.

“You the dad?”

“Yes.”

“I hit her,” he said.

“You hit her. With your car?”

“Yeah. I’m … well, I’m sorry. She just … ran out. I couldn’t help it. I really couldn’t; I’m sorry. Really sorry. I …” He started to sob himself, like a child.

“Yes, all right, all right.” Jonathan could feel a steely professional calm taking over; just as well, they couldn’t all be hysterical. “Try to pull yourself together. How … how bad is she, what sort of injuries?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. I didn’t … well, I didn’t go over her, if that’s what you mean. Just hit her.”

“The ambulance man said internal injuries,” said Charlie. His voice was hoarse, odd. Then he suddenly leaned forward and threw up.

“Poor old chap. Don’t worry …”

A weary-looking woman came over, looked at the pile of vomit, and sighed. “That’ll need clearing up.”

“Yes, indeed it will. Maybe you could find someone to do it,” said Jonathan. “Look … Charlie, go into the toilet; have a wash … I must go and find Mummy. And Daisy. Lily, you stay here. I—Oh, look, here’s Granny. She’ll stay with you. Hello, Stella. Could you get Charlie some water? He’s just been sick.”

“Yes, of course. How … how is she; what’s happened?”

“I don’t know. I only just got here. I’m going to try to find out.”

“You can’t go in there,” the woman on reception called to him as he pushed open the double doors Daisy had indicated. “That’s for medical staff only.”

“I am medical staff,” said Jonathan, and disappeared.

• • •

Laura was standing outside a curtained cubicle, very pale, very calm. She looked at him and almost smiled.

“Hello.”

“Hello. How is she?”

“We don’t know. Internal injuries, that’s all they’ll say. A doctor’s with her now.”

“Is she conscious?”

“No.”

“Has she been? Since it happened?”

“Not … not really. Well … a bit, in and out. Mostly out.”

“Oh, God. Jesus. Laura, how—”

“It was my fault. Really.”

“Yours?”

“Yes. She wanted to go to the shop, get some sweets. I didn’t have time.”

“She didn’t go alone?”

“No, no. She went with … with Charlie.”

“Charlie!”

“Yes. Don’t look like that; he’s taken her before. And Lily. Several times before … Well, you know he has, it was you who said he could in the first place.”

It was true. He had. It had been a huge adventure … for Charlie. They had watched him from the gateway as he had walked carefully and proudly down the road, never taking his eyes off Lily, calling her back if she went so much as five yards ahead of him. They had had to keep ducking out of sight, in case he saw them; when the kids were nearly back Laura and Jonathan both fled into the house, laughing—Laura to the kitchen, Jonathan to his study—and pretended they hadn’t even heard them come in, expressing huge surprise when Charlie called out, “We’re back.”