Page 18 of A Midlife Gamble

‘Quite a lot of queueing,’ he smiled. ‘Yes.’

‘Queueing?’

‘Everyone queued, Caro.’ He shrugged. ‘For everything. Meat, butter, sugar, potatoes, rice, fruit, soap, washing powder. The kids started at five and the neighbours paid us. When they finished breakfast they came to take our place and we went to school. When we finished school, we got back in line for someone else. All the kids did it.’

Caro stared at him.

‘It was worth it though,’ Shook smiled. ‘I mean a DeLorean? Even if it is only on the screen. The only cars I knew then were Fiat Polski. Excuse me,’ he said squeezing her hand, ‘I must go to the bathroom.’

‘Fiat Polski! ’ Lawrence rocked back on his heels, laughing as Shook passed.

And just like that, it was only the two of them in the room.

‘He’s a funny fella.’ A corner of Lawrence’s mouth turned up in a sly smile. He dropped his head to one side and from under bloodshot, eyes, said, ‘Not really your type, I wouldn’t have thought.’

Caro glared at him.

He didn’t notice. He’d already crossed the room, was already sitting down alongside her. Very close. Too close. Leg to leg close. From the hallway she could hear laughter. Craig’s voice.Pull it down a bit!And then Lawrence’s hand was on her knee. Time stopped. Caro looked down at it. She felt as if she was looking at a scene which she was not a part of. She couldn’t move, and although her physical capacity had frozen, her mind raced.Don’t let Helen come in. Don’t let Shook come in. Don’t let Helen…

‘Caaro.’ Lawrence’s voice, dragging with alcohol, settled in her ear like a warm, heavy thing. ‘You’ve haad a hard time,’he slurred.‘Yoou know you can doo better…’ His hand inched higher up her thigh. ‘We’re the ssame, you and me. We’re the go-getters of thiss world.’

‘L—’ The letter stuck on her tongue, the weak flabby shape of the first letter of his name.

‘It’ss not too late,’ Lawrence whispered. ‘You sshhould have told me how you felt. I thought it was just a sshag between us, but ss’not too late.’

A peal of laughter rolled in from the hallway. And although Caro heard it, it was light years away from where she had been stranded. Another world.

‘Helen…’ Lawrence shrugged. ‘Sshhe doesn’t understand. It was a mistake. Twenty-five years ago, I made a mistake.’

Mistake.Now Caro looked at him, the word turning between them in slow wheels. Up it went.Mistake.Down and round again.Mistake.‘Your marriage,’ she said and left a long icy gap before continuing, ‘was amistake?’

Almost confused, Lawrence drew back, his smile so flabby, Caro had a moment to wonder how it stayed on his face. He turned his palms to the ceiling and shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

And although she knew that she should move away, that every fibre in her body was screaming at her to stand up and leave the room, she couldn’t. And she couldn’t, because to do so would have been a betrayal. All these years, so many of them, for better or worse, she’d watched Helen sacrifice herself, her dreams and ambition, almost everything, to make this house a home, to build a nest for her family, to create what, from the outside looking in, had seemed perfect and would, for those on the inside, have felt perfect…For this?For this man to dismiss it as amistake.Fury rose.

‘Now, now…’ Lawrence leaned in. ‘I’m talking about uss now,’ he slurred. ‘Yoou and me, Caro.’

His hand was on her leg again, but this time, Caro peeled it back and placed it on his own leg, watching him as he stared at it, her lip curling in distaste. A movement caught her eye. A shadow passing across the front window. Exactly as if someone had been standing in the open doorway, and had now backed away.

‘Caro.’ And for the third time, Lawrence’s hand was on her thigh.

This time she whipped it off. ‘You’re right,’ she said leaning into him, using a voice perfected over years. The voice she’d reserved for the junior in the office who went over her head, the visitor who mistook her for the secretary, the taxi driver who asked her male colleague for the fare. ‘All those years ago, one of us did make a mistake. But it wasn’t you, Lawrence. It was me. It was me who made the mistake of sleeping with you in the first place.’

Lawrence frowned.

Caro looked at him. She could hear the blood running in her ears. That reflected movement had spooked her. She was as jittery as she was doubtful, but above all she was determined. This stopped. Today. His entitlement, her vulnerability. Leaning in closer, she whispered. ‘I was never in love with you, Lawrence. Don’t flatter yourself. I may have once thought I was, but honestly?’ And reaching out, she patted his hand. ‘I was a twenty-one-year-old virgin. I’d have convinced myself I was in love with Boy George, if there was a chance he’d have taken me to bed. Confidence,’ she finished as she drew back, ‘is such a precious resource, don’t you think?’

He looked at her, his mouth slightly open, his right eye making an involuntary twitching movement.

Caro shook her head. ‘I had none, you see, Lawrence. None at all! And I didn’t know it, but I was looking in the wrong place thinking I’d find it by sleeping with you, especially when…’ And suddenly she stopped talking, pausing to stare across the room, as if she was waiting for something to reveal itself.

‘Especially when what?’ Lawrence was sneering now.

‘Especially when what I needed was what I already had. Friends,’ she murmured. ‘The only thing I needed, I’ve ever needed, was my friends.’

Lawrence stood up and went across to where he’d left his bottle. Filling his glass, he said, ‘You’ll be bored of him within a month. Face it.’

And at this, Caro allowed her head to drop to one side and smiled, as if she was looking at a lost sad puppy. ‘You just don’t get it do you? It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t work out with Tomasz. As long as I have my friends, I won’t be unhappy.’

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