Page 72 of The World Outside My Window

The words hover in the air between them for a moment, Laura wondering why she’s said them out loud, Ben wondering whether he should acknowledge them.

Laura meets Ben’s eye and it takes everything he has not to turn away. He wonders whether she can tell how confused he is, how much he’s fighting his feelings.

As Laura looks at Ben, her mind is in just as much turmoil. She didn’t mean to say those words, but now she has she can see that they’re true. She and Jim were never right together. He’s always had control over the marriage, and she’s starting to wonder whether she’s mistaken a feeling of security for love.

Debbie was right: what sort of marriage is it when she doesn’t know anything about the man she’s married to? It’s just a shame it’s taken Jim walking out on her to make her realise there was something awry all along.

‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,’ Laura says eventually. She looks away.

‘It’s fine.’ What else can he say? He stands, suddenly aware he probably shouldn’t be here any more, alone with this woman. ‘I should be going,’ he says, clipping Rocky’s lead on. The dog wags his tail half-heartedly.

Laura stands too and they turn towards the door at the same time, bumping into each other as they do. They both stop dead. There’s barely more than an inch between them and the air hums with tension. Ben isn’t breathing, while Laura feels her breath coming in short gasps as they both wonder what’s going to happen next. It’s been a long time since Laura wanted a man to be this close to her, even Jim, and yet she can’t ignore the fact that she’s hoping for more. Then Rocky barks and breaks the moment, and Ben leaps away and opens the door, his face burning.

‘Thanks for the tea,’ he mumbles, looking down at his shoes.

‘Thank you for walking me home and – and listening.’ Then she leans forward, presses her lips to his cheek and closes the door, leaving them both wondering what on earth just happened.

24

THEN – FEBRUARY 1992

My eyelids felt heavy but I forced them open and the room slowly came into focus. I didn’t recognise where I was, and my chest began to tighten.

‘Hello, love.’ Jim’s voice was close by and I turned my head to see where he was. I found him sitting in an armchair – our old armchair – by a window, watching me. I pushed myself up to sitting and felt my head swim with the effort.

‘Are we here?’

He nodded. ‘We arrived about three hours ago but the tranquillisers the doctor gave you must have been strong because you’ve been knocked out for ages.’

I rubbed my eyes and took in my surroundings. I’d seen this room on the estate agent’s details many times, but it looked smaller in real life. This was the living room, which I remembered was at the front of the house. The flowery wallpaper was old-fashioned, and the paintwork was chipped, but none of that mattered, because we were here, and I no longer had to be terrified of my own shadow. Heavy net curtains hung at the window so I couldn’t see the street outside, but I wondered whether I’d be able to manage it. I stood slowly and wobbled my way over to where Jim was sitting, and he stood to take my elbow.

‘Take it easy, you’ve only just woken up.’

‘I want to see out of the window.’

‘Come on, then.’ He steered me the last few steps and I held my breath as he pulled the net curtain aside. I leapt back as if I’d been electrocuted, and turned away.

‘It’s okay, it’s closed,’ Jim said, squeezing my shoulders. I turned to face him. Worry lined his face and guilt pierced me.

‘I’m sorry. I’m just not quite ready. I’m sure it’ll be fine though.’ I didn’t dare tell him that the feeling I’d had when I’d looked outside just then was exactly the same as it had been from out of the London flat. I’d begged him to move here, and he’d agreed despite his reluctance. I owed it to him to try as hard as I could to make this work.

‘You sit down and I’ll make us something to eat,’ he said.

* * *

Even though I was glad Jim had taken two whole weeks off to be with me while we settled into the house, I couldn’t help feeling resentful whenever he went out. Each time he did he came back with news of somewhere else he’d discovered, a shop he’d found, or a neighbour he’d chatted to. It seemed as if Jim was settling in really well, and, although I should have been pleased, I just felt jealous and even more cut off from everything than I had before.

‘Come with me, love,’ he suggested time and time again, but just the thought of stepping outside the front door left me so crippled with panic I couldn’t move.

In fact it soon became clear that, far from helping me to overcome my agoraphobia, the move had only made it worse, because now I didn’t even live close to Debbie, the only other person I still saw.

As the day approached for Jim to return to work, I could feel my anxiety levels rising at the thought of being left alone, so when he was late back from a supermarket shop one evening and the doorbell went I actually screamed. I clapped my hand over my mouth and listened to my pulse thump in my temples, a pain shoot across my neck. Since we’d arrived nobody had rung the doorbell, and Jim would have taken a key. I had no idea how long I’d been sitting there, frozen in terror, balled up on the edge of the sofa, by the time I heard Jim’s key turn in the lock and the whoosh of cold air rush in with him, but that was where he found me.

He flicked on the light and I squinted up at him.

‘What’s going on? Has something happened?’ he said, stalking across the room and crouching down next to me.

‘I—’ I started. ‘There was someone at the door.’ It sounded pathetic even to my own ears.

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