Page 104 of The Last Train Home
We sit down to eat, and it’s lovely, casual, messy. Pizza grease coats our fingers as we discuss the new coalition government and how bonkers it is. And then Andy tells me about the children’s cartoon that he and Tom have been working on.
‘A cartoon?’ I ask. ‘That’s incredible.’
‘Tom’s my money man,’ Andy says, clearly proud of his friend. ‘The brains behind the operation. He set us up with investor meetings that paid off, and now we’re getting ready to record a pilot episode to take to market.’
I cast my gaze quickly in Tom’s direction, and he glances back at me, smiles. He looks genuinely happy. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him look like that. Tom and Andy continue telling me about how they’re casting actors to narrate the voices.
‘We don’t know if we should try to hire really famous people, throw some serious money at it up front,’ Andy says, ‘or keep the budget slim and hope the concept sells itself.’
‘Still to be decided,’ Tom responds, throwing me a quick look that says,The concept is going to have to sell itself, beforeAndy changes the subject and starts quizzing me about Singapore.
‘So you’ve only just met each other again today, after three years?’ Andy asks.
Tom nods, dropping a slice of pepperoni as he bites into his pizza. That’s not the whole story, though. He gives no detail as to why we haven’t spoken or seen each other and Andy doesn’t probe, and I think it’s best left that way. We sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Teddy and cut his cake, each being given a slice and some forks by Teddy and Oliver – our proud waiters.
Then Teddy opens presents, and Tom’s been thoughtful enough to buy Oliver one too, so he has something to open. The boys stay at the dining table and play.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t have anything to give him,’ I say as Tom and I clear the plates.
‘He’s had quite enough, believe me. Father Christmas will have nothing left to give him at this rate,’ he says.
Andy joins us in the kitchen and Tom says, ‘Can you look after the boys when I run Abbie home tonight?’
‘Sure. Teddy can come to ours for a sleepover, if you like, then you don’t have to rush back and I’ll take them both to pre-school in the morning.’
Tom looks grateful. ‘I can come in and say hi to your parents,’ he tells me.
‘They’d like that. Oh, crap, I need to tell my parents where I am. They live in permanent fear that I’m on my own somewhere giving birth.’
I grab my phone, answer my mum’s message, sent ages ago, about where I currently am with a very vague answer that assures her I’m safe. I can’t say, ‘I’m with Tom’ without having to then engage in a text-rally with her as she quizzes me about it.
‘So you moved to Singapore with a mate of Tom’s from work and then got married?’ Andy grabs a beer from the fridge.
I can’t help feeling him being so at home here is a good thing. Tom never seemed to have any real friends before.
‘Where’s your fella tonight then?’ Andy asks. ‘Couldn’t make it to Teddy’s birthday tea?’
‘He’s not here.’
‘Not in London?’ Andy asks.
‘Not in England,’ I say.
The boys are playing Transformers at the end of the table, moving the pieces around to form cars, and then moving them back again to form robots.
‘Not in England?’ Andy asks.
I glance at Tom. He’s looking directly at me, but he’s not speaking. At a guess, he’s waiting silently for Andy to keep asking questions.
‘No,’ I reply.
I was wrong about Tom, as he interjects sharply, ‘Why not?’
I’m not hiding anything. It’s no secret, but I feel very odd about saying it out loud. I feel even weirder saying it out loud to Tom while his friend is here. ‘Sean and I aren’t together any more.’
There’s no register of shock or anger or … anything on Tom’s face. Instead he lifts his water glass off the kitchen counter and drains most of it in one go and then puts it back down again. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. I force my gaze back to Andy, who I can see wants to probe deeper, even though he doesn’t even know me. And when no one speaks, the awkwardness really sets in like a stain.
‘We broke up,’ I clarify, ‘a couple of months ago. He wasn’t into having a baby. He was into it, before it happened,’ I ramble. ‘And then he wasn’t.’
