Page 9 of This is Where I Leave You

“So my dear, have you had any symptoms at all?”

Cady shuffled in her seat, the hard plastic making her bottom ache. Her clothes were still very wet too, which made her feel even more wretched. She concentrated on one of the thick green striped curtains while she considered her own health. She had been in a bit of a blur recently.

“Do you have any symptoms?”

“Well, I have noticed I need the toilet more often, and I am a bit tired, but other than that, no, I don’t think so.”

Trudy nodded and made notes in her file. Her writing was long and loopy, Cady couldn’t make out the words from where she was sitting.

“And contraception?” She asked, ticking some boxes on a chart.

“Ah, no, well I was on the pill, but I stopped taking it.” Didn’t seem to be any point, they weren’t having sex anymore anyway.

“And did you have unprotected sex with your husband after this time?”

Cady brushed back her now damp and frizzy hair. In the humidity of this room, she estimated looking like Worzel Gummidge within the hour. She thought back over the last few months, there was only the one night, the Law Society dinner, 4 months ago.

It had been a good night, actually, best for a while. Cady brought her attention back into the room and looked at Trudy. Trudy was not looking at her; she was bringing the stick out of the pot and staring at it closely. If she got any closer she could touch it actually. Oh God, Cady thought. He’s done it to me again! Richard, you utter bastard, she shouted in her own head, you have done it again, and what was it this time? Parasites, syphilis, leprosy of the hoo-ha? She felt the lurch of her stomach and her heart pumped widely. She heard a sudden ringing in her ears, and everything distorted into a tunnel like shape.

“Er, only once, at Christmas,” she replied weakly. Her voice sounded strange in her own ears. She stood up, her hands shaking. Jesus, she was going to…to…and then everything went black and Cady hit the deck.

CHAPTER 11

Luke sat hunched over his desk, poring over plans for a 5 bed extension in Morley. His dad was a bugger for detail, and Luke wanted to leave nothing to chance. He already ribbed him constantly about ‘wasting’ his talent. Having studied Civil and Architectural Engineering at The University of Bath, with a prestigious placement at the Royal Academy of Arts in London, his parents had fully expected him to land a top job designing skyscrapers in America, or creating housing projects in Dubai. When he actually moved into an apartment and declared that he was destined to be an artist, or as his dad called it, ‘a penniless bum’ their enthusiasm had waned somewhat. Well, not Mum of course, she agreed with her husband and made all the right noises in public but told Luke regularly that as long as he followed his creative streak, and his heart, and was happy in life, than so was she. ‘After all,’ she would say, with a cheeky glint in her eye, ‘if you are not poor and tortured, then you are not a true creative spirit.’ Luke always remembered that, and even though rent was tough some months, and he couldn’t afford a car, he was thrilled with his life, and with Dad coming round to the idea and offering him more and more freelance work, things were getting easier. And as he always retorted to his dad when he snuck a sly dig in at his son’s expense, if he ever needed the money, truly needed it, he had kept his hand in, had an excellent education and could land a highly paid job pretty much anywhere. Till then, he loved his thrifty life, his apartment full of canvases and brushes, and his beans on toast diet.

He did pay into a good pension however, his dad had insisted on that, and having no debts, he figured he would be okay for a few years yet.

Checking and rechecking the plans again, he was pleased with his work. This project was going to be fun, he was almost sad to hand it over to the building team. The couple had asked for a post-modern, contemporary art deco feel, and his dad had visibly paled at the idea, and passed the plan making and finer details onto Luke with a grunting respect to his knowledge in the area. He could tell his dad had no idea what the thin couple dressed in scarves and ironic t-shirts were on about. It was a bit of a mish-mash of ideas, but Luke had made it work, they had agreed the initial plans, paid a deposit and set a date. It was to be their biggest project in years, Dad having slowed his company down a lot in his twilight years, paring down his once large company to a handful of trusted workers, and a couple of vans. He had given up his large commercial offices and now ran the business from his custom built home office, jutting off from the main house, all built from scratch of course. His mum had a studio at the bottom of the garden for her writing and painting and she was always locked away on some project or another, only emerging during daylight hours to feed her ‘boys’ which included all the workers, to tend the garden, or to read novels in the sun lounger, drinking wine, whatever the weather. It was fair to say his mother was unique. Luke smiled to himself at the thought, and hearing the coffee machine click off, he turned with his half empty mug of cold coffee to get a refill and jazz the brain up. He turned with the mug and….rammed it straight into a pair of tiny bosoms, promptly dumping coffee straight down the barely there cleavage.

“Aaahh!” Victoria screeched, shivering as the cold drops of Columbian blend spread into an ugly stain on her white cashmere v-neck.

“Oh shit, sorry I-” Luke stopped and stared, catching flies at the sight of his ex before him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh, Luke, that’s not nice now is it. Jesus Christ, my top is ruined. Still as clumsy as ever I see,” Victoria scowled, grabbing a tissue from the desk to futilely dab at the brown stain. Tutting loudly, she scowled at him. “Well. It’s jolly well ruined now, isn’t it. Thanks a bunch.” Crossing her arms at her sides, she whipped off the ruined top, flicking her platinum blonde hair back off her face in the same movement. Luke recognised the pendant round her neck. Now standing there in her white (also coffee stained) bra and tight black trousers, she noticed his flash of recognition at the object. Playfully, she smoothed down her bra using both hands to rub over her breasts. Luke flushed and looked away quickly. Damn, she still knew how to play him. It had been a while though. Luke felt a stirring in his pants and his face flushed further. Damn you penis! Show some taste. This woman is poison. Down, boy, down.

“I repeat my question. What the hell are you doing here?”

Victoria had the good sense to look ashamed.

“I know we didn’t have the best parting Lukie, but I am sorry…but as you can see,” she stroked the pendant, a pure black heart on a matching black string, “I have always kept you close to me.” At the last words, she moved her hand to her mouth, biting her index finger coquettishly. Luke shuddered inwardly. How did he ever fall for this woman?

Straightening up, Luke went to swill his cup out and filled it with strong black coffee. Not even bothering to add his usual bucket of milk and one sugar, he swigged at the treacle-like substance, enjoying the jolt from the caffeine hit.

“Funny isn’t it, Vic, how I made the heart black? It was almost as if I knew you were a cold hearted bitch from the beginning. Now if you don’t mind, I have work to do, so if you could take your breasts and yourself out of my office, I would be extremely grateful.” He strode to his desk and sat down with his back to her, swigging his drink.

Victoria opened her mouth to say something, but then her shoulders sagged, and picking up her top, she walked to the door.

“Oh, and Vic?” Luke said, his back still turned to her.

Victoria swung around, hopeful. “Yes, Luke?”

He swung around in his office chair, smiling broadly. She brightened, returning his smile.

“Don’t forget to send me the dry cleaning bill, will you.”

Luke smirked and turned around again. Ok, it was a cheap shot, and he hated to be nasty, it just wasn’t in his nature, but man this girl pushed his buttons.

Victoria half growled/screamed. “Gggrraarrgghh! Oh Luke, you really are a stubborn pig!” and she stampeded toward the door. Pulling it angrily, she came face to face, or rather breasts to face, with Luke’s dad.

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