فصل 33

33

I thought youd be headed off by now. Jakes asleep in front of Americas Funniest Home Videos. Greg walks into the kitchen bare-foot and yawning. You want me to put up the camp bed? Its kind of late to be dragging him home.

That would be great. Paul barely looks up from his files. His laptop is propped open in front of him.

What are you doing going over those again? The verdict is due Monday, surely? And – um – didnt you just quit your job?

Theres something Ive missed. I know it. Paul runs his finger down the page, flicking impatiently to the next. I have to check through the evidence.

Paul. Greg pulls up a chair. Paul, he says, a little louder

What?

Its done, bro. And its okay. Shes forgiven you. Youve made your big gesture. I think you should just leave it now.

Paul leans back, drags his hands over his eyes. You think so?

Seriously? You look kind of manic.

Paul takes a swig of his coffee. It is cold.

Liv loved that painting, Greg. And it will eat away at her, the fact that Im — responsible for taking it from her. Maybe not now, maybe not even in a year or two. But it will happen.

Greg leans back against the kitchen unit. She could say the same about your job.

Im okay about the job. It was time I got out of that place.

And Liv said she was okay with the painting.

Yeah. But shes backed into a corner. When Greg shakes his head in frustration, he leans forward over his files. I know how things can change, Greg, how the things you swear wont bother you at the start can eat away at the good stuff.

But –

And I know how losing the things you love can haunt people. I dont want Liv to look at me one day and be fighting the thought Youre the guy who ruined my life.

Greg pads across the kitchen and puts the kettle on. He makes three cups of coffee, and hands one to Paul. He puts his hand on his brothers shoulder as he prepares to take the other two through to the living room. I know you like to fix stuff, big brother of mine. But honestly? In this case youre just going to have to hope to God it all works out.

Paul doesnt hear him. List of owners, he is muttering to himself. List of current owners of Lefèvres work.

Eight hours later Greg wakes to find a small boys face looming over him. Im hungry, it says, and rubs its nose vigorously. You said you had Coco Pops but I cant find them.

Bottom cupboard, he says groggily. There is no light between the curtains, he notes distantly.

And you dont have any milk.

Whats the time?

Quarter to seven.

Ugh. Greg burrows down under the duvet. Even the dogs dont get up this early. Ask your dad to do it.

Hes not here.

Gregs eyes open slowly, fix on the curtains. What do you mean hes not here?

Hes gone. The sleeping-bags still rolled up so I dont think he slept on the sofa. Can we get croissants from that place down the road? The chocolate ones?

Im getting up. Im getting up. Im up. He hauls himself into an upright position, rubs his head.

Paul is indeed not there but he has left a note on the kitchen table it is scribbled on the back of a list of court evidence, and placed on top of a scattered pile of papers.

Had to go. Pls can you hang on to Jake. Will call.

He grabs his mobile phone and stabs out a text.

If you are over there getting laid right this minute, you owe me BIG TIME.

He waits a few minutes before stuffing it into his pocket, but there is no reply.

Saturday is, thankfully, busy. Liv waits in for the buyers to come and measure up, then for their builders and architect to examine the apparently endless work that needs doing. She moves around these strangers in her home, trying to strike the right balance between accommodating and friendly, as befits the seller of the house, and not reflecting her true feelings, which would involve shouting, GO AWAY, and making childish hand gestures at them. She distracts herself by packing and cleaning, deploys the consolations of small domestic tasks. She throws out two bin-bags of old clothes. She rings several rental agents, and when she tells them the amount she can afford there is a lengthy, scornful silence.

Paul does not call.

That afternoon she heads over to her fathers. Caroline has thrown you the most spectacular pot for Christmas, he announces. Youre going to love it.

Oh, good, she says.

They eat salad and a Mexican dish for lunch. Caroline hums to herself while eating. Livs father is up for a car-insurance advert. Apparently I have to imitate a chicken. A chicken with a no-claims bonus.

She tries to focus on what he is saying, but she keeps thinking about Paul, replaying the previous day in her head. She is secretly surprised that he hasnt rung. Oh, God. Im turning into one of those clingy girlfriends. And weve not even been officially together for twenty-four hours. She has to laugh at officially.

Reluctant to go back to the Glass House, she stays at her fathers for much longer than usual. He seems delighted, drinks too much, pulls out black-and-white pictures of her that he found while sorting through a drawer. There is something oddly grounding about going through them the reminder that there was a whole life before this case, before Sophie Lefèvre and a house she cannot afford and an awful, final day looming in court.

Such a beautiful child.

The open, smiling face in the picture makes her want to cry. Her father puts his arm around her. Dont be too upset on Monday. I know its been tough. But were terribly proud of you, you know.

For what? she says, blowing her nose. I failed, Dad. Most people think I shouldnt have even tried.

Her father pulls her to him. He smells of red wine and a part of her life that seems a million years ago. Just for carrying on, really. Sometimes, my darling girl, thats heroic in itself.

Its almost four thirty when she calls him. Its been almost twenty-four hours, she rationalizes. And surely the normal rules for dating dont apply if someone has just given up half their life for you. Her heart quickens a little as she dials shes already anticipating the sound of his voice. She pictures them, later that evening, curled up on his sofa in the crowded little flat, maybe playing cards with Jake on the rug. But the answer-phone cuts in after three rings. Liv hangs up quickly, oddly unsettled, then curses herself for being childish.

This is ridiculous, she tells herself. Hell call.

He doesnt.

At eight thirty, knowing she cant face spending the rest of the evening in the house, she gets up, pulls on her coat and grabs her keys.

Its a short walk to Gregs bar, even shorter if you half run in your trainers. She pushes open the door and is hit by a wall of noise. On the small stage to the left a man dressed as a woman is singing raucously to a disco beat, accompanied by loud catcalls from a rapt crowd. At the other end, the tables are packed, the spaces between them thick with taut, tightly clad bodies.

It takes her a few minutes to spot him, moving swiftly along the bar, a tea-towel slung over his shoulder. She squeezes through to the front, half wedged under somebodys armpit, and shouts his name.

It takes several goes for him to hear her. Then he turns. Her smile freezes his expression is oddly unwelcoming.

Well, this is a fine time to turn up.

She blinks. Im sorry?

Nearly nine oclock? Are you guys kidding me?

I dont know what youre talking about.

Ive had him all day. Andy was meant to go out tonight. Instead hes had to cancel just to stay home and babysit. I can tell you hes not happy.

Liv struggles to hear him over the noise in the bar. Im looking for Paul, she says.

Hes not with you?

No. And hes not answering his phone.

I know hes not answering his phone. I thought that was because he was with – Oh, this is crazy. Come through the bar. He lifts the hatch so that she can squeeze in, holds his hands up to the roar of complaint from those waiting. Two minutes, guys. Two minutes.

In the tiny corridor to the kitchen, the beat thumps through the walls, making Livs feet vibrate. But where has he gone? she says.

I dont know. Gregs anger has evaporated. We woke up to a note this morning saying hed had to go. That was it. He was kind of weird last night after you left.

What do you mean, weird?

He looks shifty, as if hes already said too much.

What?

Not himself. He takes this stuff pretty seriously. He bites his lip.

What?

Greg looks awkward. Well, he – he said he thought this painting was going to ruin any chance the two of you had of having a relationship.

Liv stares at him. You think hes —

Im sure he didnt mean –

But Liv is already pushing her way out through the bar.

Empty of anything, Sunday lasts for ever. Liv sits in her still house, her phone silent, her thoughts spinning and humming, and waits for the end of the world.

She rings his mobile number one more time, then ends the call abruptly when the answer-phone kicks in.

Hes gone cold.

Of course he hasnt.

Hes had time to think about everything hes throwing away by siding with me.

You have to trust him.

She wishes Mo were there.

The night creeps in, the skies thickening, smothering the city in a dense fog. She fails to watch television, sleeps in weird, disjointed snatches, and wakes at four with her thoughts congealing in a toxic tangle. At half past five she gives up, runs a bath and lies in it for some time, staring up through the skylight at the oblivious dark. She blow-dries her hair carefully, and puts on a grey blouse and pinstriped skirt that David had once said he loved on her. They made her look like a secretary, hed observed, as if that might be a good thing. She adds some fake pearls and her wedding ring. She does her makeup carefully. She is grateful for the means to conceal the shadows under her eyes, her sallow, exhausted skin.

He will come, she tells herself. You have to have faith in something.

Then she pulls an old blanket from the airing cupboard and wraps it carefully around The Girl You Left Behind. She folds it as if she were wrapping a present, keeping the picture turned away from her so that she doesnt have to see Sophies face.

Fran looks up as Liv approaches, with two mugs, then at the sky. It has sunk around them in thick droplets, muffling sound, ending the world at the rivers edge.

Not running?

Nope.

Not like you.

Nothings like me, apparently.

Liv hands over a coffee. Fran takes a sip, grunts with pleasure, then looks at her. Dont stand there like a lemon, then. Take a seat.

Liv glances around before she realizes that Fran is pointing towards a small milk crate. She pulls it over and sits down. A pigeon walks across the cobbles towards her. Fran reaches into a crumpled paper bag and throws it a crust. Its oddly peaceful out here, hearing the Thames lap gently at the shore, the distant sounds of traffic. Liv thinks wryly of what the newspapers would say if they could see the society widows breakfast companion. A barge emerges through the mist and floats silently past, its lights disappearing into the grey dawn.

Your friend left, then.

How do you know?

Sit here long enough you get to know everything. You listen, see? She taps the side of her head. Nobody listens any more. Everyone knows what they want to hear, but nobody actually listens.

She stops for a minute, as if remembering something. I saw you in the newspaper.

Liv blows on her coffee. I think the whole of London has seen me in the newspaper.

Ive got it. In my box. She gestures towards the doorway. Is that it? She points to the bundle Liv is holding under her arm.

Yes. She takes a sip. Yes, it is. She waits for Fran to add her own take on Livs crime, to list the reasons why she should never have attempted to keep the painting, but it doesnt come. Instead she sniffs, looks out at the river.

Thats why I dont like having too much stuff. When I was in the shelter people was always nicking it. Didnt matter where you left it – under your bed, in your locker – theyd wait till you was going out, and then theyd just take it. It got sos you didnt want to go out, just for fear of losing your stuff. Imagine that.

Imagine what?

What you lose. Just trying to hang on to a few bits.

Liv looks at Frans craggy, weathered face, suddenly suffused with pleasure as she considers the life she is no longer missing out on.

Liv stares along the grey river, and her eyes fill unexpectedly with tears.