Page 85 of Wild About You

He frowned. ‘No, you’re not.’

‘Trust me, I am. I’m a narky cow. I don’t like cooking nearly as much as you think I do. I don’t naturally have clear skin, I just wear make-up. I swear aloteven if it’s only in my head. Some days, I don’t shower. I prefer dogs to people.’ I looked at him, whirled my hand. ‘The list goes on, and on. All the things you don’t know about me. And that’s not all your fault. It’s partly mine. When we were together, I lost myself. No, I gave myself up – hands in the air.’

‘I never—’

‘I know you never asked me to. I just – did it. From day one. Saw what you wanted, and gave it to you. First date: Mexican food. I don’t really like Mexican food, but I wanted to please you so much I convinced myself I liked it.’ I handedhim a napkin. His eyes were getting moist. He’d need to blow his nose in thirty seconds.

‘You got one thing right though,’ I said. ‘I did pick you up when you fell. But what happened when I fell?’

He blew his nose.

‘And it was my first fall, Sean. When we found out I couldn’t have children. I’d worked so hard to keep things the way you liked them. Always to be strong, happy Anna – great at work, fun to be with, effortlessly efficient. Then I fell. It was a big fall, I get that. Huge. But you let go of me, the minute it happened.’ I had to pause, take a breath. ‘You let me fall into the gutter.’

‘It was hard for me too,’ he said.

That was the line I’d always played in my head – poor lad, imagine. But now something in me had hardened.

‘Not as hard as it was for me,’ I said, drinking the rest of my water. ‘You had options. One hundred of them, as it turned out. I didn’t.’

‘So you’re saying there’s no way back for us?’ His tears had dried. A tiny voice in the back of my brain noted how quickly his tears had dried. I could have wept for England when we split. I looked at him, taking in every detail of his face. He looked so – ordinary.

‘That’s the thing,’ I said. ‘I don’t think there is a way back.’

‘I see,’ he said flatly.

I stood up as he put the ring box in his pocket. I kissed him on the forehead as though he was a child – our child.Who would that child have been? I thought. Then I blinked away the tears that sprung into my eyes. And I left the Chandos coffee bar, and the life we had built together, him sitting there, looking at his empty cup. Until that moment, our life had still been waiting for us, an empty but furnished apartment, lights on, waiting for us to walk back in the door. But now, I turned the lights off, and the vans were coming, to empty it.

CHAPTER 25

As I walked into the tube station, I could feel my phone vibrating in my pocket, and I ignored it. I sat down in the hairdryer-like heat of the underground carriage and tried to calm myself. I was trembling. I’d been relatively calm when I was talking to Sean but now the numbness had worn off. I’d messaged Rose on the way to the tube and she’d insisted on meeting for an emergency debrief, but I didn’t want to dissolve into a jelly the moment I saw her.

My phone had hooked onto the underground’s wifi and I could feel it blowing up. What on earth? Sean wouldn’t be this persistent. Were seedbomb manufacturers really sending me excited emails at half seven in the evening?

TOBIASFi’s turned off her phone and I need to tell you guys something or I’m going to burst. It’s not life-threatening but it’s.

Anna hon pls call.

Anna please.

Banana.

BANANA BANANA BANANA

The moment I was outside of the underground station, I called Tobias. He answered in two rings. ‘Thank you!I was about to combust.’

‘What’s wrong? Has something happened?’

‘Er, yes.’ I heard the crunch of gravel; he must be outside Stonemore. He lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘I’m working late,’ he said. ‘I wanted to get the rotas done for the next three months to surprise Fi.’

‘You sound like a spy,’ I said. ‘Do you have to whisper?’

‘Yes, I do!’ he hissed. ‘She could be anywhere!’

‘Do you mean Lucinda?’

‘Yes!’

He continued: he’d been working late, Tally had been absent most of the afternoon after her run-in with Lucinda, etc, ‘that creep’ Darren had been working on one of the minor paintings.

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