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Authors: Alice Peterson

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BOOK: You, Me and Him
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CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

‘What’s happened? Josie?’ I had been banging on Clarky’s door. When he opened it I rushed in, out of breath and talking so fast he couldn’t keep up with me. ‘I’ve left him … left him …’ I was saying. I had to gasp for air. ‘Didn’t pick George up from school … got days mixed up … Finn went mad. I can’t cope … can’t cope.’ I stop. ‘Oh, God, I’m sorry.’ The table is laid for supper. There are candles and the room is dark, lit by a couple of dimmer lights. I can smell curry coming from the kitchen.

‘Is Aggie coming over? I’d better go,’ I say, but make no attempt to move. I can’t even feel my feet.

‘Shh, it’s OK.’ He leads me to the sofa and I tell him again what happened. My mobile rings. It’s Finn.

‘Is George OK?’

‘No, he wants his mum.’

‘Tell him I’ll see him tomorrow.’

‘So, you’re coming home then?’

‘No. You’ll have to take George to school.’

‘I can’t.’

‘You have to.’

‘This is ridiculous. I can’t be late for the hospital. My ward round starts at eighty-thirty.’

‘I don’t care.’

Finn is in shock. For once he has full responsibility for George. Good.

‘When will you come home?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘So you’re staying with Clarky?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘J, I deserve this, I understand that. I’m so,
so
sorry about tonight, you have to believe me, but please come home. We’ll work this out … I’ll …’

I’m about to cry again. ‘Tell George I love him.’

‘Josie, wait!’

I hang up. ‘Honestly, it’s such a mess.’

Clarky is holding me close when Aggie walks into the room wearing a bright pink coat that clashes with her hair. She’s holding a stripy umbrella. ‘It’s so wet … oh, hello.’

We spring apart like an adulterous couple. Clarky walks over to her and they kiss quickly on the cheek. ‘Hi, Josie. What’s going on?’ asks Aggie.

‘She’s had a bad argument with Finn. I said she could stay. You don’t mind, do you?’

‘Oh, right.’

I want to disappear. I shouldn’t have come. She shakes her hair loose from its ponytail. ‘Shouldn’t you be talking to Finn, not Clarky? You’re eight months pregnant. This stress can’t be doing you any good, and what if your waters break tonight? Hot spicy food brings on a baby, doesn’t it?’ She looks at my enormous bump.

‘Aggie, can we talk?’ Clarky pulls at her arm and leads her out into the hallway.

‘I arranged a babysitter for El tonight, I thought we were going to talk about our plans?’

‘I know, but look at her. She needs someone.’

‘I understand that, but why does it always have to be you?’ she asks in a hoarse whisper. ‘What about Tiana, or someone else?’

‘That’s not fair. We’re like family to each other, that’s all.’

‘Family! How long are you going to pull that one off? I really like Josie, she’s my friend, but this is
exactly
why I get so funny about you two.’

‘Why are you making me feel as if I’m betraying you? We’re old friends, how many times do I have to tell you? I will not let her down,’ Clarky says with finality.

‘Well, then, I’m going,’ Aggie states.

‘Why can’t we all have supper together?’ he insists. ‘I’ve made plenty of curry. I don’t want you to go but we have all the time in the world to talk about our future. She needs me right now. Don’t make a scene, please.’


Me
not make a scene? What about Josie! She’s eight months pregnant, what the fuck’s she playing at? Now’s no time to be falling out with her husband or leaving herself with no roof over her head. She can’t always rely on you. This was our night!’

‘What are you doing?’ they both snap at me as I walk past.

‘You’re right, Aggie. What am I doing? I can’t always rely on Clarky. I’m sorry.’ I’m struggling with my case and trying to unlock the door.

I feel a hand on mine. ‘You’re in no fit state to leave,’ he says.

Aggie stands with her arms firmly crossed, still dressed in her long bright pink coat.

‘I’m going,’ I tell Clarky. ‘I’m sorry I barged in, Aggie.’

‘It’s all right. You can stay if you want,’ she adds reluctantly.

‘I would never have come if I’d known you’d planned something.’

She’s tapping one foot against the carpet. ‘Sorry for getting so arsey.’ Aggie’s tone has finally softened, like rock-hard butter beginning to melt.

‘Look, I’m going home, I’ll be fine,’ I assure Clarky. ‘Aggie’s right. I need to sort this out with Finn.’

‘OK, but I’m calling you a cab,’ he says.

*

I get into the taxi. Clarky kisses me goodbye. ‘I’m sorry about Aggie.’

‘Don’t be. Go and make it up to her. She’s only just met you, it’s natural she wants to spend time with you.’ I smile, holding back the tears. We look at one another. What do I want from him? Is it possible to love two people? Don’t cross the friendship line. Yet the line is so blurred I can’t even see it anymore.

‘Go and enjoy your curry. Don’t wait out here, it’s raining.’ He closes the cab door with a slam. I wave goodbye to him. I have to let him go. I have no right to be holding on so tightly.

‘Where are you going, love?’ The driver revs up the engine.

‘Anywhere you want,’ I say, looking out of the window, tears now flowing down my face. He gives me a strange look before I tell him to take me home.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

‘I can’t leave, Mum. I could have the baby any day now. It could be a week, or three, or it could be tomorrow. Or today. All I want to do is come home, see you and Dad, but I can’t. I’m stuck.’

‘Have you got everything ready for the hospital?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, you have to stay put. You can’t take any risks at this stage.’

‘I know.’ I twist the telephone cord tightly. ‘I wish I could leave Finn but he has to work. He can’t look after George, and if I did leave, I don’t know what he’d do. I have to do what’s best for my son and he can’t take time off school anyhow. But Finn made me so cross, Mum.’

I tell her about our screaming match and she listens quietly, taking it all in. I don’t tell her about the complication with Clarky. Am I in love with him? I can hardly look Aggie in the eye when we pick our children up from school. I told her how sorry I was about the other night and brought flowers as a peace offering; tulips which I know are her favourite. She’s been quiet, pretending that she has to get home to finish her cooking. The last thing I want to do is hurt anyone, let alone Aggie who has already been let down in the past. I need to get a grip on my life. This has gone too far.

When I finish telling Mum about the argument she says boldly, ‘He takes you for granted. He always has. I like Finn but he makes up his own rules, that boy.’

‘I’m about to have a baby, Mum, and I’m terrified. This isn’t how I imagined it would be.’

‘Do you want me to come and stay? Would that help you?’

The offer is so tempting. All I want to do is see her. I yearn to go home and find a hot water bottle in my bed and the smell of Dad’s fresh coffee in the kitchen. ‘Can I come and stay with you after the baby’s born? It’ll be George’s summer holidays then. I know we talked about you coming to London but I need some time away. Can I do that?’

‘You don’t have to ask. Your father and I set aside the month anyway. We’ve already bought a cot.’

*

It’s George’s Sports Day today. School term has nearly ended.

Finn and I are trying to build bridges. I’m glad I didn’t race home. I can’t run to Clarky; I shouldn’t hide behind my parents. Finn and I need to sort this out. We’re sleeping in separate rooms, mainly because I am so uncomfortable at night and can’t sleep. However, if anything, our argument has made things better.

I was working late in my studio last night on David’s project when Finn sat down on the stool next to my desk and looked at the screen, telling me in great detail why he liked the pink and white floral image. ‘I can see that on a perfume bottle. It’s eye-catching. I mean, I like the green one with the pretty leaves, but, no, it’s not quite as effective. The pink one is more French, more sophisticated somehow. Show me how you do that?’ he’d asked, leaning in closer. ‘You’re so clever.’ I’d been playing around with the size and colour of the image.

‘It’s simple when you know how.’

‘It’s not. I couldn’t do it.’ From the corner of my eye I could see he had something in his hand that he’d wanted to show me, but I had to get my work finished. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’

‘Finn,’ I’d called out as he was walking out of the room.

‘Yes?’

‘What’s that?’

‘Just a boring medical journal, has pictures of the conference.’

‘Show me. Is there a picture of Alessia?’

‘Yes, think so.’

‘Can I have a look?’

He’d smiled, handing it to me.

There was a group picture near the middle of the magazine. ‘Is that her?’ She was standing in the front row. Average height, neat figure, dark hair, a cute smile, but … ‘She’s not what I expected,’ I’d said.

‘Don’t you think she’s pretty?’

‘Yes.’

‘What did you expect?’

‘I don’t know. Someone beautiful, I guess. You know, one of those people who just are so good-looking they’re another breed altogether. She’s, I don’t know, kind of like me. Normal.’

‘But you’re gorgeous, J.’

‘Hey!’ I’d called, touched by his comment and ridiculously relieved that at long last I’d seen a picture of her. If only I’d seen one a year ago. ‘Don’t go. Are you featured in there?’

‘There might be something.’

‘Let me see.’

‘Middle section, page eighteen.’

I must have almost laughed. The photograph of Finn was terrible.

‘I blinked when the flash went off,’ he’d said, trying to snatch it back from me. Underneath it read, ‘Finn Greenwood is a promising young doctor with an exciting future in medicine.’ It went on to describe his department at the hospital. ‘Finn, that’s great.’ I’d sighed with pride and our faces were so close; I wish I’d kissed him then instead of turning away.

*

The other day he came home with some supper; he had been to the fancy butcher and bought us some delicious steak. He’s pledged that he will start cooking at least once a week and at the weekends, especially when the baby’s born. He’s also been bringing me tea in bed before he leaves for work. And George and he made me breakfast last Sunday. I had to move back into the main bedroom so George didn’t notice the sleeping arrangements. The breakfast was pretty disgusting as usual – soggy toast and scrambled eggs – but Finn had bought some pink roses too. The only sad thing was he’d asked George to put them in a vase, but what he hadn’t seen was his son cutting the stems off so short that the roses had looked beheaded, bobbing up and down in a cereal bowl. ‘They’re like Henry VIII’s wives,’ Finn said, smiling and putting the tray on my lap. During breakfast George had turned on the radio and Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ started to play. It’s a house rule to dance to this song. If we don’t, bad luck will follow. We hadn’t heard it in months.

Finn had lifted the tray from my lap with an encouraging, ‘Come on, we can’t break with tradition, especially now. We need all the luck we can get.’

We’d stood in a line, me attempting to kick my legs to the music but looking like a fat baboon. I could hardly lift my feet off the floor. We’d all started to laugh so much that it hurt. I’d clutched my stomach and collapsed back down on the bed. I’d watched Finn and George as they pulled faces at me, George dancing manically on his thin little legs.

It is moments like these, of pure happiness, that I love; that make it all worthwhile.

Finn took George to the car-boot sale after that breakfast, telling me to rest and watch movies. They’d arrived home carrying a terrifying mask which came complete with a tube of fake blood to smear over it.

‘How much for this?’ George had quizzed his favourite car-boot lady.

‘For you, Billy Whizz, one pound fifty,’ she’d said.

‘I’ll give you ten pence.’

‘Why did you let him buy it?’ I’d cursed Finn when they returned home, watching him cover his face with it and make strange haunting noises. ‘Stop it!’ I’d quavered. ‘When he’s at school, I’m putting it straight into the dustbin.’ Finn had laughed at that and I’d pulled the mask off him and held his face firmly in my hands. This time there was no looking away. I’d kissed him.

We also took George swimming last weekend. Uncle Ed had joined us. ‘I can see such an improvement in his style,’ Finn had said incredulously, all of us watching from the shallow end.

‘It’s Frédéric. He’s able to see through George’s condition and appreciate his talent because he bothers to look hard.’

‘Watch, Mum! Dad! Uncle Ed!’ George proceeded to do at least five metres backstroke. He’d kept his legs beautifully straight and kicked them in time with his arm action. We’d all clapped furiously.

It had been the first time Finn had seen George’s lessons paying off, and just to see him look so happy and to act like we were a family felt good. No, it felt
great
.

Finn has promised George he will be at his Sports Day. Last year George came last in the 100 metre sprint because he was waiting for his dad to turn up. Everyone had laughed and pointed at him, still standing in front of the starting line. George’s mood has brightened considerably because Finn will be watching him swimming again then. ‘Don’t let him down,’ I’d warned. ‘It’s better to say no than to lead him on.’

‘I will be there,’ Finn had promised. ‘What race is he in?’

‘Front crawl and backstroke.’

I have every faith he will come this time. Something feels different. Like we’re making a new start and I’m falling in love with him all over again.

*

I’m making the bed when the doorbell rings. Rocky starts to bark. I slowly walk downstairs, irritated that I have been disturbed. It’s an effort to move at this stage. The baby’s weight bears down on me. I feel like my unborn child is lumped between my knees, not in my stomach, just hanging there between my legs like a huge sack. Finn kindly likes to tell me it looks as if I have swallowed an extra-large basketball. I can’t possibly get any bigger, can I? Where will the baby go, for God’s sake? George can’t believe it. ‘It’s got to come out soon,’ he keeps on saying.

I unlock the door.

Clarky doesn’t brush his shoes against the mat as he always does. ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask.

‘I’m going mad.’ He walks into the sitting room and starts pacing, just as Finn does when he has something on his mind.

‘Clarky?’

‘No one else is here, are they?’

‘No.’

‘No one really understands our friendship, do they?’

‘What’s wrong?’

He scratches the back of his head and laughs. ‘Aggie. After you’d left that night she was questioning me about us again.’

‘God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come over, it was a mistake.’

‘Well, she won’t let it go now. Why was I always the one you ran to? Why, why, why? Can I be honest?’ He doesn’t wait for me to say anything. ‘You’re my best friend and I want you to be happy, but there’s this tiny side of me that rejoices when you and Finn argue. It gives me hope. I’ve always believed that maybe, one day, you’ll see that you can’t live without me.’

‘I can’t,’ I say simply. ‘You’ll always be a part of my life.’

He lets out a frustrated groan. ‘But not in the way I mean. Why do you act so innocently when you …’

‘I know what you mean,’ I say quietly.

‘I don’t want to be someone who lives their life hoping a marriage breaks up, especially yours. What kind of person would that make me? But do you know what it’s like, loving someone and knowing you can never have them?’

I bite my lip. I can’t believe he is saying this and it’s my fault. ‘No.’

He laughs drily. ‘I ought to run courses, at least make some money out of you. Come and subscribe to, “All you need to do to get that person out of your head”.’

‘Clarky, you’ve met Aggie. I’m having Finn’s baby. I love him.’

‘I know, and I love Aggie.’

‘Good, so don’t ruin it.’

‘But …’

‘But what?’

‘She’s not you.’

‘Clarky, you’ve got to stop this, OK? You need to calm down, think about this properly. I love you …’

‘But only as a friend,’ he finishes impatiently. ‘That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it?’ He follows me into the kitchen. I lean against the table, tired and out of breath.

‘It’s George’s Sports Day today. I have to go in a minute.’

‘What time?’

‘It starts at two but George’s races are later.’

He looks at his watch. It’s midday. ‘I’ll come with you.’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. Finn will be there. He’s making a real effort, he promised to be there for George today.’

Clarky is looking at the blackboard. Finn has written on it, ‘Remember, George’s first race, three o’clock.’

‘Is everything fine between you now?’

‘Clarky, we can’t do this! We have to let it go. I’m married; you’re in a relationship. This is stupid, it’s leading nowhere except to hurt people.’

‘I can’t let it go.’

‘You have to. I shouldn’t have come round that night,’ I reiterate. ‘And I’m hugely to blame. I shouldn’t depend on you so much. It was hard seeing you with someone when I’ve always had your undivided attention. But that’s me being selfish and childish. Coming round that night finally made me realise that. Aggie deserves a lot better than this.’

‘Where are you going?’ There’s panic in his voice.

‘To the bathroom. Jesus, Clarky!’ The phone rings. ‘Can you get that?’ I call.

‘I’m afraid she can’t come to the phone. She’s gone to the loo … I came over to see Josie … I’m just answering your question. Right.’

I open the door. ‘What did Finn want?’

‘The times of George’s races.’

‘I told him this morning. Do I need to call him back?’

‘No, it’s on the blackboard. He was only checking.’

‘Oh. Good.’

‘I want to come,’ he says. ‘I’d like to support my godson.’

‘I’m calling Finn.’ But before I even make it to the phone the doorbell rings. That will be Mrs B.

She walks in wearing a long red skirt with a tight frilly shirt, her long hair plaited and coiled into a bun. She stops when she sees Clarky. ‘What’s he doing here?’

‘He’s going to drive us to school, aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Right. How are you, Justin?’

‘Very good, thank you.’

‘Not working today?’

‘Clearly not. If I was I wouldn’t be here, would I?’

‘Right. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.’

When his back is turned she nudges me. ‘Why’s he always hanging around here?’ she huffs like Finn’s granny. ‘There’s something about him I don’t trust.’

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