Slack-Tide, page 13
He took his time doing it. In the kitchen, I began to slice an onion but he heard me and ran down. He wanted to cook, he said. It was the christening of his new equipment, and it would be a pleasure for him. He asked me to talk him through the recipes, then he tied his new apron on, and I left him.
While he worked, I went around the apartment hiding the chocolate eggs I’d bought. In three of the places I chose, I found eggs he’d already hidden, and realised why he’d been so long with the model houses.
He was still chopping, so I stayed on the mezzanine to Skype my brother and his family. In Norfolk, the sun was shining. Will carried his iPad into the garden, where the children were hunting eggs, the two of them chasing and screaming and jumping into flower beds, so that Will’s wife ran from the house, laughing, and told them not to step on her azaleas.
‘Where are you?’ Will called out. ‘Are you with your deal-maker? Freeze any eggs yet? Can we meet him?’
‘Don’t call him that,’ I whispered, frowning.
I took my laptop to the kitchen, and Robert had his first conversation with my family: aproned, red in the face, and chewing on a carrot, he stared at my brother. ‘Who he?’ he said.
‘Oh! I’m sorry. Will, this is Robert. Robert, Will.’
My brother grinned, then just as Robert began to say ‘Hello’, he disappeared from the screen, tackled to the ground by his younger son, Albert, who jumped back up and asked me if I’d found all my eggs yet.
‘Not quite. Let’s go see if we can find the last one, hey?’ I left Robert in the kitchen, and carried the laptop back upstairs. I showed Albert one of the eggs I’d hidden for Robert, and put my fingers to my lips. ‘Don’t tell.’
‘Who’s that?’
‘Who?’
‘In the photo, Auntie Lizzie. On the bookshelf.’
I’d forgotten about Lena. I reached behind me and put the photo of her and Philippe face down. ‘Oh, just a friend of Robert’s,’ I said, swinging the laptop away. ‘No one important.’
Later, after we’d found our chocolate eggs, and eaten our feast, Robert said he wanted to FaceTime Philippe, and asked, would I mind taking a short walk?
‘Now?’
‘Yep.’
‘On my own?’
‘It’s just less complicated that way, you know.’
‘What way?’
‘If you’re somewhere else. I usually show him the apartment when we FaceTime, if he asks.’
As I let myself out, I heard the call begin.
‘Oh, hey, nothing much,’ Robert said. ‘It’s just a lazy Sunday. I took a look at a market this morning. It was fun. Bought myself a present. Then I came back and hung out, made myself some lunch. What about you, dude? Are you with your mom?’
The week after Easter, I had a small operation. A tiny internal tear had opened up in my stomach wall, roughly at my midriff. Some days, it hurt a little, and from time to time, there was a sort of ‘pop’, and a piece of muscle emerged which shouldn’t have done. By pressing it lightly, I could push it back in. On seeing a surgeon, I’d been told that either I could live with the sensation and forget about it, or, and this was his advised course of action, I could have a small piece of mesh inserted, and held in place with permanent stitches. As long as I was aware of the risk of leaving it, which was that, one day, the opening might increase enough for part of my intestine to become strangulated, and cause my death, the choice was mine.
My operation was booked for the middle of the month.
‘It’s minor,’ I told Robert on the phone in Canada.
‘But what’s it called?’ he shouted. He was at the side of the road, somewhere north of Alberta. ‘It must have a name. Why didn’t you tell me about it before? This is kind of short notice!’
‘Oh. It’s an umbilical hernia. It happened when I was born, apparently, and it’s opened up again. They don’t know why. It was arranged forever ago. Yes, it’s open surgery, and yes, it’s a general. But it’s no big deal, really.’
He said I should find out everything I could, nonetheless, and make an informed decision about whether to go through with it.
‘Of course I’m going through with it! Are you crazy?’
In the days leading up to the surgery, Robert sent me YouTube footage of the procedure. I watched two minutes of the first clip, and asked him not to send me any more.
‘I’m just trying to help, honey. You should be as clued up as possible about what they’re going to do to you in there!’
‘Yeah, but I don’t need to actually see it. It’s like a horror movie, that thing you sent. How could you?’
‘I was trying to help. I feel bad. I’m so far away.’
‘Well, don’t feel bad! Or come back and help, if you do!’
He took me at my word, and flew in the day before.
Assuming I would want him to escort me to the hospital and collect me, he went ahead and booked a cab. When I told him I’d prefer to take Magali up on her offer of coming with me, and taking me back to stay at hers for the night, he insisted.
‘How’s she going to do that? What about Olivier? What about the club?’
‘Olivier’s a grown-up. He’s cool with it. And the club has staff, you know!’
We argued a little, and he insisted.
When I came round from the anaesthetic I was taken to a side room, where I fell asleep again. Later, I opened my eyes to find Robert’s phone in front of my face.
‘Smile.’ There was a click, and I blacked out again.
Waking a second time, I was too spacy to say anything to him about the camera. He looked crestfallen, and told me the nurse had asked him not to take photographs.
‘I’m not surprised,’ I said quietly. ‘Are you?’
When he emailed the image to me, a few days later, I looked like all of my friends had, in their new-baby photos from the delivery room: the hospital gown sat lightly on me, and I was bleary-eyed and pale. The only difference was the absence of a child, and the fact I looked frightened, rather than happy.
I didn’t acknowledge his email, and he never asked about it. That day, as soon as I’d peed, we were allowed to leave the hospital. At the apartment, he paid the cab driver, and helped me in. When I was settled on the sofa, wrapped in Lena’s fur throw, he said he was going out and would be back in half an hour. ‘Definitely no more than one hour, max, or two. You just call me, honey, if there’s anything you need!’
‘You can’t leave!’
‘We need food.’
‘No, I mean you actually can’t leave. That’s the whole point. That’s the deal. I came round from a general exactly three hours ago. You signed a form to say you’d stay with me for twenty-four hours. That’s the only reason they let me –’
‘We just need a few things, for dinner. For breakfast! We need milk, and I should get some soup for you. Something light, for when you’re ready to eat.’
‘You didn’t think of going before?’
‘Before what?’
‘Before you came to get me from the hospital.’
‘I was at the office. Actually, I need to stop in there now, if that’s OK. There’s a conference call I should be on. It’ll be quick, I promise. Then I’ll go to the store and come back. Please don’t be dramatic about it. There really is no other way.’
When he’d gone, I called Magali.
‘Why didn’t you stay with me, honey?’ she said. ‘Shall I come over right now? I can come over. You need to think about this guy, seriously. Is he the guy you want to be with? Is he the guy you want to have a kid with?’
‘Hey. Easy.’
‘I’m sorry. I don’t want to break your balls, sweetie, but if Olivier ever did something like that to me. Oh boy. You want me to come over right now?’
‘No.’ By now I was crying. ‘I’m OK, I guess. Maybe tomorrow, if Olivier’s around to cover.’
‘Sure thing. No question. Tomorrow, noon. I’ll pick you up and bring you here. We’ll get you right, and get you home, then, babe, you know what?’
‘You’re going to quote a musical at me, aren’t you?’
‘I haven’t quite said this before, girl. I’ve bided my time, seeing you try so hard to make this work. But here goes.’ She was singing then, and I laughed a little. ‘You’ve got to wash this man right out of your hair.’ She sang the rest, then she said, ‘He doesn’t make you smile, you know? He doesn’t make you laugh.’
I went to Magali’s the next day. Robert was due to fly to Alberta again, in any case. As I was packing my bag, he said he’d be back the following weekend, and would book us a table for lunch.
‘I’ll take you somewhere special, honey. A recuperation date.’
When Magali arrived, he smiled, and seemed not to notice that she’d kept her sunglasses on and wasn’t smiling back.
In the mornings, Magali was in her office on the top floor, working through menus and accounts, putting in food orders for the club. Olivier cooked lunch for the three of us, then in the afternoons, I slept. While one of them was at the club, I watched movies with the other, and went to bed early.
One evening, I helped Olivier to wash up.
‘You stayed with this man for a child, right?’
‘Is that what Magali told you?’
‘We don’t see why else. He talks about his wife as though he’s still with her. He doesn’t make you laugh. And he tells you what to do the whole time.’
‘I’ve been lonely, these years.’
‘Magali said you sounded lonely, when you called her to come and get you.’
‘I was. He had to work. It was a misunderstanding.’
‘It would be hard, I think, to have a child with someone who doesn’t know how to care for anyone.’
‘He has been loving. I mean, he’s in love with me. It’s been nice.’
‘And he wants to control you, I think. Magali tells me that. I can see it for myself, but she tells me. Is it time to stop with this man, do you think? Why would you want to be with someone like that?’
I could think of nothing to say, and didn’t answer. He apologised, and said perhaps he’d gone too far. He held me, and I told him not to be sorry.
‘Now what?’ I said.
‘A movie? Some tea? What would you like to watch?’
‘I think I’ll just fall asleep. But yes, let’s. You choose, I’ll watch with my eyes closed.’
After five days, I asked Olivier to take me home.
I still wasn’t comfortable walking, so I took a cab to the small Italian restaurant Robert had booked for us in Marylebone. As I pulled up outside, and saw him standing on the pavement, I decided to break things off.
At first, we were strangers.
‘It’s my stitches,’ I said, shying away from his embrace.
By the second course, though, he had made me laugh, and soon I was asking him to stop.
‘They’ll come undone. Please, stop.’
Soon, I had forgotten everything, and was enjoying the new distance. Maybe, I thought, this was all that had been needed. A standing away, and a recalibration.
Afterwards, we waited for the bill, and he handed me a small object.
‘I wanted to keep it back, you know.’
‘What is it?’
‘It’s a gift. Open it.’
‘Here?’
‘Right here.’
It was a bottle of expensive scent, the kind advertised by movie stars, in heavy-paged haute couture magazines. It was a scent I’d never owned, and it was the first time a man had given me anything like it.
‘Thank you. I mean, it’s gorgeous. What do you mean, keep it back?’
‘I wanted to see how things went today. You seemed kind of mad at me last week, after your op. I didn’t know if it was the drugs you were on, or what. Do you know, I was even kind of worried you were going to tell me you didn’t want to see me again!’
‘We do need to talk, Robert.’
‘Now?’
‘No. I’ve booked a cab. It’ll be here any minute. I can see you tomorrow, if you want. There are some things I need to say to you. I don’t think I can do this any more.’
‘This?’
‘Us.’
‘What do you mean, us?’
‘I’m so sorry,’ then the waiter was telling me my cab was outside, and Robert was standing to help me. ‘You know it won’t work, Robert. We both know it.’
He held the restaurant door, and shook his head. ‘Don’t do this, Elizabeth. Not now. Not like this.’
‘Goodbye, Robert.’
‘You said you’d see me tomorrow. Will you come over?’
‘Let’s meet in town.’ I was in the cab now, drawing my feet up, holding his gift against my stitches. ‘Somerset House. There’s a coffee shop, just where you come in. The top corner of the courtyard. I’ll be there at eleven,’ then we were pulling away, and he was waving.
I slept badly. My stitches hurt, and when I looked, the bruising had spread, and was yellowing. I sat at the dining table and looked out. There was a couple by the launderette, kissing, for what seemed like forever. The woman pulled away, then the man pulled her in again and she laughed, and they began again. When the street was empty, at 2 a.m., or 3, I went up and tried once more to sleep. I was wide awake, though, bothered by the memory of my conversation with Olivier, when I’d helped him with the washing-up and he had asked me why I wanted to be with someone who controlled me.
That evening, I had been unable to find an answer to his question.
Now, though, thinking about the couple outside the launderette, kissing, and imagining myself being alone again, without Robert, I found my answer, with a horrible, startling clarity. I wanted to be with Robert, not only despite his need to control me, but also because of it. It made it easier, being controlled. It made it easier to be sure I was loved. If someone was always there, wanting me there, wanting me to be a certain way, and wanting me to be with them wherever they went, there was no doubt about their feelings for me.
At 5 a.m. I woke from a dream about Robert, and was scared, suddenly, that if I told him I’d changed my mind, and asked him to have me back, he might refuse.
At 6 a.m. I texted, knowing his phone would be off and he’d read it when he got up.
Had an idea. I’ll swing by yours and pick you up. You’re on the way, anyway. So don’t go. Don’t go until I get there.
I stopped at the flower stall opposite my apartment.
‘Is it for a special occasion?’ the boy said.
‘Yes.’
‘Who for?’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘Try me. It’s my job. It’s for a guy, right?’
I blushed, thinking of Magali and Olivier. ‘Yesterday he was my boyfriend.’
‘Aha.’
‘I told him I didn’t want to see him any more.’
‘I’ll see what I can do. These, I think, miss. These are a good place to start.’
An hour later, instead of using my keys, I rang Robert’s bell. He buzzed me up but when I reached his apartment and knocked, he didn’t come. I waited, then I knocked again and saw the door was ajar.
There was music from the bedroom. I stood in the doorway and watched.
He was on the bed, sewing on a button. His foot was tapping, and he sang along, quietly.
I phoned Magali in the afternoon. I said it had nearly killed me, finding him like that.
‘He was like a boy,’ I said. Taken unawares, I explained, he’d seemed so gentle, and so content. ‘That was when I knew.’
‘Knew what?’
‘I just knew. I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to lose him.’
‘It was deliberate,’ she said. ‘He set it up!’
‘How? He didn’t even know I was there.’
‘He buzzed you in. He left the door unlocked. He chose the music. Sewing? Since when have you ever seen Robert sew on a button? You are so completely gullible, Elizabeth. This guy is playing you like a guitar. That’s all he’s ever done. Think about it!’
‘I guess,’ I said. ‘So –’
‘So?’
‘It still nearly killed me.’
‘Elizabeth. Please.’
‘What?’
‘Please don’t tell me you screwed him.’
I put my hand over the phone.
‘Elizabeth? Say something!’
Watching him sew his button, I had made a noise. He’d turned, and smiled. Standing up, he took the white roses.
‘Come,’ I said, and he followed.
On the mezzanine, he undid my dress.
‘You’re wearing the perfume.’
‘I’m wearing the perfume.’
He sat up on the daybed and lifted me onto his lap, barely touching me.
‘It’s fine,’ I said. ‘I’m not made of glass.’
‘I’m being careful. I’m trying to be careful.’
He undid my bra, and cupped my breasts. He was inside me then, and his face was at my neck. Barely moving, I came. He held me, and stayed quite still.
‘Honey?’ I whispered. ‘Did you –?’
‘It’s OK. I don’t want to hurt you.’ He placed a hand on my belly, just above my stitches, then he laid his head on my shoulder. ‘Thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘Thank you for coming back to me.’
I stayed with him that night. On the sofa, before we went to bed, he told me that when he’d learned to pilot a plane, he was told that the most important rule, the one that would save his life, was this.
Your instruments are your window on reality.
In order to survive, you need to understand the data they provide, and ignore any sensory message which suggests otherwise.
‘That’s what I learned. Following my heart would literally kill me. This is a terrifying situation to be in. I’m going against everything I’ve learned.’
Later, we slept together in his bed. I was most comfortable curled up on my side, my hands on his back, him facing away from me.
‘You are my lighter,’ he whispered.
‘Your what?’
‘I am a yacht at harbour. You are a small boat attached to me by a little length of rope. You’re how my captain goes to and fro, if he wants to walk on land.’
