Page 5 of Cuckoo

I immediately felt a little bit self-conscious. He was obviously some big, important City boy, but I just nodded. I knew the wine place he meant. I’d gone in once, seen the prices, paled, and left quickly before anybody tried to offer me any assistance. Some of those bottles cost hundreds.

‘Perhaps this one?’ I suggested meekly, holding up a bottle without any idea what it was. I hoped it didn’t taste like vinegar. I started getting those intrusive thoughts I always get, about him trying it and hating it and therefore hating me, but I tried to push them away using the techniques I’ve learned from my mindfulness app.

He peered at the label, then the price, and shrugged.

‘I’m sure it will do, it’s only business after all, and courtesy of the office credit card! You’ve saved my bacon with this, it must be my lucky day.’ He smiled at me and I swear his teeth twinkled like in a cartoon.

But actually it wasmylucky day. He turned to leave.

‘There’s a Chardonnay I quite like too,’ I added quickly, desperate to prolong our conversation. ‘It’s not quite as fancy as that one,’ I blushed, ‘but it’s very light and dry.’And I’ve even tried it, I didn’t say.

He looked at me with interest then, one eyebrow raised slightly. My insides turned to jelly.

‘Light and dry sounds good. Maybe I’ll take one of those as well, just for me.’ He smiled. ‘Is it your date-night go-to?’ he asked.

I could feel him looking at me intently and knew I was blushing, my cheeks doing their best to imitate a frying pan. I stared at my feet for a moment, trying to calm myself. ‘No, no! No dates… no date-night wines for me. I mean, I’m single.’ I trailed off and smiled at him, embarrassed.

‘Are you now?That’sinteresting,’ he said, and his smile curved into a wide, sparkling grin.

We ended up chatting for ages in that aisle. When he asked if I’d like to carry on the conversation over a coffee, I leapt at the chance. A tiny part of me could hear my mother sneering in my head.For God’s sake, Claire, darling, he’s making a fool of you. Why would a man like that want a girl like you?

But I shook her voice away. She’s gone, and I’m not going to let her hurt me anymore.

So we went to Costa and had a great time. Conversation was easy and low-pressure. We talked a little bit about what he did and what I did, and he seemed genuinely interested. He worked in banking, which obviously I don’t know much about, but he didn’t go into detail and I feigned enough interest to keep theconversation going. It all felt fated, as though after such a terrible week with everything that’s happened with Mother, I was owed this slice of happiness. I’ll try to play it cool. I know how these things usually go and have heard all the horror stories. But I hope I’ll see him again.

Claire

Chapter Five

I’m sitting in the waiting area of this pretentious office block, shakily clutching a glass of water. Sukhi has her arms wrapped protectively around me, and even Mr Donahue has paused his lunchtime excursion out of concern for my wellbeing. The new receptionist, Sandra, is crouching in front of me, holding some tissues. It takes me a while to realise they’re for me, and that I’m crying.

‘I’m sorry I can’t help any more. I just know that he resigned back in February, to go on to a better role. He signed an NDA, we put him on gardening leave…’ Mr Donahue is saying.

Gardening leave?My eyes are flitting back and forth, my brows knotted together in frantic search of a reasonable explanation.

‘Claire, did you really believe he was coming in every single day?’ Sukhi asks me quietly.

‘Of course I did! Where else would he be?’ I snap, my voice shrill. I let my spine collapse, slumping into the seat, not wanting to draw any more attention to myself as I notice even strangersoutsideof the office are gawking in at me through the glass walls with open curiosity. I must really look a mess. The heat of shame pricks the surface of my skin like needlesand I wipe the tissue over my puffy cheeks as Mother’s voice rings through my head.

Claire, darling, don’t you dare cry in public!

‘Sorry,’ I tell Sukhi, ashamed of raising my voice, of losing my cool.

‘Don’t be silly,’ she tells me, patting my hand.

Mr Donahue tells me, ‘I didn’t even know he was getting married. You think you know someone…’ He shakes his head sadly. ‘I have to rush now, I’m late for a meeting, but I hope you get… all of this sorted,’ he says with a vague flap of his wrinkled hand, before half-running away from my shambolic state.

The receptionist discreetly slips away, returning behind her desk to deal with the lengthening queue while I sit, staring at a spot on the ground, my eyes glazed. Occasionally a tear drips off my wobbling chin and I feel wretched and wild, pathetic and exhausted, all at once.

‘It makes no sense,’ I tell Sukhi quietly, my voice coming out thickly.

‘Look, let’s get ourselves together. I’m going to call the office, explain there’s been a family emergency. Let’s make sure you get home okay, then we’ll get this sorted. You can’t go back to the office today, not like this,’ she says, standing up with her phone out, already scrolling through her contacts for the office number. In that moment, I am immeasurably grateful for her friendship.

‘Hi, yes, it’s me, Sukhi,’ she starts, walking outside with her head low, her voice all business.

She’ll make a wonderful, no-nonsense mother, I think sadly.

Sukhi really wants a baby. I know this because she mentions it regularly, fretting about her body clock and her endometriosis, which has made it difficult for her to conceive naturally. I’m hopeful for them. She’s only thirty-four, which is still young in my mind. Plenty of time for her to have a baby. She has a brilliant doctor, to whom her husband is related, so she’s getting the best possible advice to help them along. I always change the conversation quickly when she starts worrying about it, because I never know what to say to her when she recounts the stats and data about eggs and miscarriages. I try very hard to listen but then panic and this stresses me out, which is selfish, I know, because she’s looking for comfort and camaraderie and I haven’t been able to give her that.

---