فصل 39

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Ed

All these years, and he didnt know his own sisters number by heart. She had been living in the same house for twelve years, and he still had to look up her address. Ed seemed to have an ever-growing list of things to feel bad about.

He had stood outside the Kings Head as Ronan left for the Tube station and a nice girl who made soup, whose presence in his life had given him a whole extra dimension. Ed knew he could not go home to an empty flat, surrounded by boxes.

It took six rings for her to pick up the phone. And then he heard someone screaming in the background before she actually answered.

“Gem?

“Yes? she said breathlessly. “Leo, dont you throw that down the stairs!

“Does that offer of Spaghetti Bolognese still stand?

They were embarrassingly pleased to see him. The door of the little house in Finsbury Park opened and he walked in through the bikes and the piles of shoes and the overloaded coatrack that seemed to extend the entire way along the hall. Upstairs, the relentless beat of pop thumped through the connecting walls. It competed with the cinematic sounds of a war game on some kind of games console.

“Hey, you! Her sister pulled him to her and hugged tight. She was out of her suit, wearing jeans and a jumper. “I cant even remember the last time you came here. When was the last time he was here, Phil?

“With Lara, came the voice from down the corridor.

“Two years ago?

“Wheres the corkscrew, love?

The kitchen was filled with steam and the smell of garlic. At its far end two clothes horses sagged under several loads of washing. Every surface, mostly stripped pine, was covered with books, piles of paper, or childrens drawings. Phil stood and shook his hand, then excused himself. “Got a few e-mails to answer before supper. You dont mind?

“You must be appalled, his sister said, plunking a glass in front of him. “Youll have to excuse the mess. Ive been on late shifts, Phil has been flat out, and we havent had a cleaner since Rosario left. All the others are a bit pricey.

He had missed this chaos. He missed the feeling of being embedded in a noisy, thumping heart. “I love it, he said, and her eyes scanned his swiftly for sarcasm. “No. Seriously. I love it. It feels—

“Messy.

“That, too. Its good. He sat back in his chair at the kitchen table and let out a long breath.

“Hey, Uncle Ed.

Ed blinked. “Who are you?

A teenage girl with burnished gold hair and several thick layers of mascara on each eye grinned at him. “Funny.

He looked at his sister for help. She raised her hands. “Its been a while, Ed. They grow. Leo! Come and say hello to Uncle Ed.

“I thought Uncle Ed was going to prison, came the cry from the other room.

“Excuse me for a minute.

His sister left the pan of sauce and disappeared into the hall. Ed tried not to hear the distant yelp.

“Mum says you lost all your money, said Justine, sitting down opposite and peeling the crust from a piece of French bread.

Eds brain was desperately trying to marry the awkward, reed-thin child he had last seen with this tawny miracle who stared at him with faint amusement, as if he were a museum curio. “Pretty much.

“Did you lose your swanky flat?

“Any minute now.

“Damn. I was going to ask you if I could have my sixteenth birthday party there.

“Well, you saved me the trouble of a refusal.

“Thats exactly what Dad said. So are you happy that you didnt get locked up?

“Oh, I think Im still going to be the family cautionary tale for a while.

She smiled. “Dont be like naughty Uncle Edward.

“Is that how its being pitched?

“Oh, you know Mum. No moral lesson left unlearned in this house. You see how easy it is to end up on the wrong path? He had absolutely everything and now—

“Im begging for meals and driving a seven-year-old car.

“Nice try. But ours still beats yours by three years. She glanced toward the hall, where her mother was speaking to her brother in low tones. “Actually, you mustnt be mean about Mum. You know she spent all of yesterday on the phone working on how to get you into an open prison?

“Really?

“She was properly stressed about it. I heard her telling someone you wouldnt last five minutes in Pentonville.

He felt a pang of something he couldnt quite identify. So deep in self-pity had he been that he hadnt considered how others would be affected if he was sent to prison. “Shes probably right.

Justine pulled a lock of hair into her mouth. She seemed to be enjoying herself. “So what are you going to do now that youre a family disgrace with no job and possibly no home?

“No idea. Should I take up a drug habit? Just to round it off?

“Ugh. No. Stoners are so boring. She peeled her long legs off the chair. “And Mums busy enough as it is. Although, actually, I should say yes. Because youve totally taken the heat off me and Leo. We now have so little to live up to.

“Glad to be of help.

“Seriously. Nice to see you, though. She leaned forward and whispered, “Youve actually made Mums day. She even cleaned the downstairs loo in case you turned up.

“Yeah. Well. Im going to make sure I do it more often.

She narrowed her eyes, as if she were trying to work out whether he was being serious, then turned and disappeared back up the stairs.

—

“So whats going on? Gemma helped herself to green salad. “What happened to the girl at the hospital? Joss? Jess? I thought shed be there today.

It was the first home-cooked meal he had eaten in ages, and it was delicious. The others had finished and left, but Ed was on his third helping, having suddenly reacquired the appetite that had disappeared for the last few weeks. His last mouthful had subsequently been a little overambitious and he sat there chewing for some time before he could answer. “I dont want to talk about it.

“You never want to talk about anything. Cmon. Price of a home-cooked meal.

“We split up.

“What? Why? Three glasses of wine had made her garrulous, opinionated. “You seemed really happy. Happier than you were with Lara, anyway.

“I was.

“So? God, youre an idiot sometimes, Ed. There is a woman who actually seems normal, who seemed to have a handle on you, and you run a mile.

“I really dont want to talk about it, Gem.

“What was it? Too frightened to commit? Too soon after the divorce? Youre not still hankering after Lara, are you?

He took a bit of bread and wiped it around some sauce on the plate. He chewed longer than he needed to. “She stole from me.

“She what?

It felt like a trump card, laying it down like that. Upstairs the children were arguing. Ed found himself thinking of Nicky and Tanzie, placing bets in the backseat. If he didnt tell somebody the truth, he might actually explode. So he told her.

Eds sister pushed her plate across the table. She leaned forward, her chin resting in her hand, a faint frown bisecting her brow as she listened. He told the tale of the CCTV, how he had pulled out the drawers of the chest to move it across the room, and how there it had been, sitting on some neatly folded blue socks his own laminated face.

I was going to tell you.

Its not how it looks. The hand to the mouth.

I mean, it is how it looks but, oh, God, oh, God—

“I thought she was different. I thought she was the greatest thing, this brave, principled, amazing . . . But fuck it, she was just like Lara. Just like Deanna. Only interested in what she could get out of me. How could she do that, Gem? Why cant I spot these women a mile off? He finished, leaned back in his chair, and waited.

She didnt speak.

“What? Youre not going to say anything? About my poor judge of character? About the fact that yet again Ive let a woman screw me out of whats mine? About how Im an idiot on yet another count?

“I certainly wasnt going to say that.

“What were you going to say?

“I dont know. She sat staring at her plate. She registered no surprise whatsoever. He wondered if ten years of social work did that, whether it was now ingrained in her to appear visibly neutral whatever shocking thing she heard. “That I see worse?

He stared at her. “Than stealing from me?

“Oh, Ed. You have no idea what it is to be truly desperate.

“It doesnt make it okay to steal.

“No, it doesnt. But . . . um . . . one of us has just spent the day in court pleading guilty to insider trading. Im not entirely sure that youre the greatest moral arbiter around here. Stuff happens. People make mistakes. She pushed herself upright and began to clear the plates. “Coffee?

He was still staring at her.

“Ill take that as a yes. And while Im clearing up, you can tell me a little more about her. She moved with a graceful economy around the little kitchen while he talked, never meeting his eye.

When he finally stopped talking, she pushed a drying-up cloth toward him. “So heres how I see it. Shes in trouble, right? Her kids are being bullied. Her son gets his head kicked in. Shes afraid itll happen to the little girl next. She finds a wad of notes at the pub or wherever. She takes them.

“But she knew they were mine, Gem.

“But she didnt know you.

“And that makes a difference?

His sister shrugged. “A nation of insurance fraudsters would say so.

Before he could protest again, she said, “Honestly? I cant tell you what she thought. But I can tell you that people in tight spots do things that are stupid and impulsive and ill thought out. I see it every day. They do crazy things for what they think are the right reasons, and some people get away with it and others dont.

When he didnt reply, she said, “Okay, so you never took a ballpoint home from work?

“It was five hundred pounds.

“You never forgot to pay a parking meter and cheered when you got away with it?

“That isnt the same.

“Youve never exceeded the speed limit? Never done a job for cash? Never bounced off someone elses Wi-Fi? She leaned forward. “Never exaggerated your expenses for the tax man?

“That isnt the same thing at all, Gem.

“Im just pointing out that quite often how you see a crime depends on where youre standing. And you, my little brother, were a fine example of that today. Im not saying she wasnt wrong to do it. Im just saying maybe that one moment shouldnt be the whole thing that defines her. Or your relationship with her.

She finished the washing up, peeled off the rubber gloves, and laid them neatly across the draining board. Then she poured them both a mug of coffee and stood there, leaning against the sink. “I dont know. Maybe I just believe in second chances. Maybe if you had the litany of human misery trudging through your working day that I do, you would, too. She straightened up and looked at him. “Maybe if it were me, Id at least want to hear what she had to say.

She handed him a mug.

“Do you miss her?

Did he miss her? Ed missed her like a limb. He spent every day trying to avoid thoughts of her, running from the direction of his own mind. Trying to dodge the fact that everything he came across—food, cars, bed—reminded him of her. He had a dozen arguments with her before breakfast, and a thousand passionate reconciliations before he went to sleep.

Upstairs in a bedroom, a thumping beat broke the silence. “I dont know if I can trust her, he said.

Gemma gave him the same look she had always given him when he told her he couldnt do something. “I think you do, Ed. Somewhere. I think you probably do.

—

He finished the rest of the wine alone, then drank the bottle he had brought with him, crashing on his sisters sofa. He woke sweaty and disheveled at a quarter past five in the morning, left his sister a thank-you note, let himself out, and drove down to Beachfront to settle up with the managing agents. The Audi had gone to a dealer the previous week, along with the BMW he had kept in London, and he was now driving a thirdhand Mini with a dented rear bumper. He had thought hed mind more than he did.

It was a balmy morning, the roads were clear, and even at ten thirty, when he arrived, the holiday park was alive with visitors, the main stretch of bars and restaurants filled with people making the most of rare sunlight, walking, laden with bags of towels and umbrellas, to the beach. He drove slowly, feeling irrationally furious at this sterile semblance of a community, one in which everyone was in the same income bracket and nothing as messy as real life ever intruded beyond the perfectly aligned flowering borders.

He pulled into the immaculate drive at number two, pausing to listen to the sound of the waves as he stepped out of the car. He let himself in and realized he didnt care that this would be the last time he came here. There was just a week left until he completed the sale of his London flat. The vague plan was that he would spend the remaining time with his father. He had no plans beyond that.

The hallway was lined with boxes bearing the name of the storage company that had packed them. He closed the door behind him, hearing the sound of his footsteps echo through the empty space. He walked upstairs slowly, making his way past the bare rooms. Next Tuesday the van would come, load the boxes, and take them away, until Ed could work out what to do with his stuff.

Right up until then, he supposed, he had plowed resolutely through what had been the worst few weeks of his life. Looked at from the outside, he seemed to be someone grimly determined, sucking up his punishment. He had put his head down and kept moving. Perhaps drinking a little too much, but hey, considering hed lost a job, a home, a wife, and was about to lose a parent, all in a little more than twelve months, he could have argued that he was doing okay.

And then he spotted the four buff envelopes propped up on the kitchen work surface, his name scribbled on them in ballpoint pen. At first he assumed they were administrative letters, left by the managing agents, but then he opened one and was confronted by the filigree purple print of a twenty-pound note. He extracted it, then pulled out the accompanying note, which said, simply, THIRD INSTALLMENT.

He opened the others, tearing the envelope carefully when he reached the first. As he read her note, an image of her sprang to mind and he was shocked by her sudden proximity, by the way she had been waiting there all along. Her expression, tense and awkward while writing, perhaps crossing out the words and reworking them. Here she would pull her ponytail from its band and retie it.

Im sorry.

Her voice in his head. Im sorry. And it was then that something started to crack. Ed held the money in his hand and didnt know what to do with it. He didnt want her apology. He didnt want any of it.

He walked out of the kitchen and back down the hall, the crumpled notes clutched in his hand. He wanted to throw it all away. He wanted never to let it go. He walked from one end of the house to the other, backward and forward. He gazed around him at the walls hed never had a chance to scuff, and the sea view that no guests had ever enjoyed. The thought that he might never feel at ease anywhere, belong anywhere, was overwhelming. He paced the length of the hallway again, exhausted and restless. He opened a window, hoping to be calmed by the sound of the sea, but the shouts of the happy families outside felt like a rebuke.

A free newspaper sat folded on one of the boxes, obscuring something beneath. Exhausted by the relentless circling of his thoughts, he stopped and absentmindedly lifted it. Underneath sat a laptop and a mobile phone. He had to think for a minute to work out why they might be there. Ed hesitated, then picked up the phone and turned it over. It was the handset he had given Nicky back in Aberdeen, carefully hidden from the casual view of passersby.

For weeks he had been fueled by the anger of betrayal. When that initial heat dissipated, a whole part of him had simply iced over. He had been secure in his outrage, safe in his sense of injustice. Now Ed held a mobile phone that a teenage boy who possessed next to nothing had felt obliged to return to him. He heard his sisters words and something began to open up inside him. What the hell did he know about anything? Who was he to judge anyone?

Fuck it, he told himself. I cant go and see her. I just cant.

Why should I?

What would I even say?

He walked from one end of his empty house to the other, his footsteps echoing on the wooden floors, his fist tight around the notes.

He stared out of the window at the sea and wished, suddenly, that he had gone to jail. He wished that his mind had been filled with the immediate physical problems of safety, logistics, survival.

He didnt want to think about her.

He didnt want to see her face every time he closed his eyes.

He would go. He would leave here and get a new place, and a new job, and he would start again. And he would leave all this behind. And things would be easier.

A shrill noise—a ringtone he didnt recognize—shattered the silence. His old phone, recalibrated with Nickys preferences. He stared at it, at the rhythmically glowing screen. Caller unknown. After five rings, when the sound became unbearable, he finally snatched it up.

“Is Mrs. Thomas there?

Ed held the phone briefly away, as if it were radioactive. “Is this a joke?

A nasal voice, sneezing “Sorry. Awful hay fever. Have I got the right number? Parents of Costanza Thomas?

“What—who is this?

“My names Andrew Prentiss. Im calling from the Olympiad.

It took him a moment to collect his thoughts. He sat down on the stairs.

“The Olympiad? Im sorry—how did you get this number?

“It was on our contacts list. You left it during the exam. I have got the right number?

Ed remembered Jesss phone being out of credit. She must have given the number of the phone hed given to Nicky instead. His head dropped into his free hand. Someone up there had quite a sense of humor.

“Yes.

“Oh, thank goodness. Weve been trying you for days. Did you not pick up any of my messages? Im calling about the exam . . . The thing is, we discovered an anomaly when we were marking the papers. The first question contained a misprint, which made the algorithm impossible to solve.

“What?

He spoke as if reciting a well-worn series of statements. “We noticed it after the final results were collated. The fact that every single student failed the first question was a giveaway. It wasnt picked up on initially, as we had several different people marking. Anyway, were very sorry—and wed like to offer your daughter the chance to resit. Were doing the whole thing again.

“Resit the Olympiad? When?

“Well, thats the thing. Its this afternoon. It had to be a weekend as we couldnt expect students to miss school to do it. Weve actually been trying to reach you all week on this number, but we got no response. I only tried you the one last time on the off chance.

“Youre expecting her to get to Scotland in . . . four hours?

Mr. Prentiss paused to sneeze again. “No, not Scotland this time. We had to take the space available to us. But looking at your details, I see this might work out better for you, seeing as you live on the south coast. The event is scheduled to take place in Basingstoke. Are you happy to pass the message on to Costanza?

“Uh . . .

“Thanks so much. I suppose these things are only to be expected in our first year. Still, one more down! I only have one more entrant to reach! The rest of the info is on the Web site if you need it.

An almighty sneeze. And the phone went dead.

And Ed was left in his empty house, staring at the handset.