Page 53 of The Last Train Home
‘Something like that,’ she says, handing over her money for the salad. ‘Actually,’ she continues, clearly steeling herself for something as we leave the shop and enter the cobbled lanes, ‘Sean and I are moving to Singapore.’
I can feel my mouth try to say something, but nothing comes out.
‘Singapore?’ I say eventually. And then I mutter something between ‘wow’ and ‘why’ and it comes out as ‘wah?’
‘Wah?’ she laughs. ‘Because Sean and I are getting jobs out there, and we really fancy a change. That’s wah.’ She laughs, but I’m not sure if it’s at me or at her own play on my garbled words. ‘So I guess I’ll be needingyouraddress, so I can send you a leaving-party invite, or maybe I should email them out. I’m not sure.’
I give her the address of the house I’m moving to in Putney and she types it into her phone. ‘When are you leaving?’ I ask.
‘Sometime in May, we think.’
I can’t speak. Abbie is moving to the other side of the world. I breathe in and out, then I speak. ‘How long for?’
‘I’m not sure. It might be the start of some serious country-hopping or it might not be. Maybe until we have kids and need to settle them somewhere permanent.’
My voice goes up an octave. ‘Kids?’ I’m blindsided. She’s talking about having kids with Sean.
‘Yeah, children. You know those little things that walk and talk and, by all accounts, drain your finances. You’ve got one, remember? How is Teddy? Do you have a recent picture?’
We stop in the street and I pull out my wallet, opening it to show Abbie a picture taken at my parents’ hotel at Christmas. I’m in swim shorts and Samantha’s in a tiny little white bikini on the beach, and held between us is Teddy, done up head to toe in a sunsuit and matching hat. I’m so proud of my family.
‘Oh, he’s gorgeous. He’s grown so much.’
I look at her, waiting for her to acknowledge that she’s never once met him, having turned down all my invitations to the point where I gave up issuing any more.
‘You’ve done really well, Tom,’ she says and puts her hand on my arm.
I look at it. ‘Thanks. So have you.’
‘Thanks.’
We resume walking and I decide I’m not going to tell her I miss her any more. I tell her this far too often by email, and the last time I saw her in the pub around Valentine’s Day I told her. I thought it would reignite our friendship. It did, in a way, but Abbie is definitely keeping me at arm’s length. I can see that now. I need to let her go.
‘It’s good to see you, Abbie,’ I say as we enter the courtyard. She’ll turn right towards her office, I’ll go left to mine. And that will be that.
‘You will come, won’t you?’ she says suddenly, almost desperately.
‘Come where?’
‘To our leaving drinks. It’ll only be somewhere nearby on a Friday. I’ll give you plenty of notice. Please come.’
I’m not sure I want to. I’m not sure I want to see Abbie in the arms of Sean as they chat happily about how they’re leaving London, moving far away to be together.
I shouldn’t feel like this. I shouldn’t feel annoyed that she’s happy. I don’t have the right to feel anything. I’m with someone. She’s with someone. I have a baby. I should be happy that Abbie’s happy, but somehow I can’t summon that emotion.
‘I do want you there,’ she says. ‘I’ve really missed you.’
‘You wait until you leave to invite me to something. And you’ve only done it because I bumped into you in the street.’
She recoils in shock that I’ve spoken to her like that. ‘No,’ she says. ‘I was going to invite you anyway. It’s just …’
‘Youhavebeen avoiding me, haven’t you?’ I ask. I’m going for this. I’m going in hard because I have to know.
She sighs. ‘A bit.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. It’s still a bit raw.’
