Page 34 of The Lie
Michael’s slow, ponderous speech gave a weight to his words that made Romy self-conscious. He was still staring at her, his eyes willing her to take him seriously.
‘No, well …’ She didn’t want his apologies. But the moment felt dangerous, as if she were poised at a door, which, if opened, might lead her straight back to Michael’s side.
He must have seen her reluctance because he turned away on the pillow and she heard him give a short laugh.
‘Sorry, not the time for all this,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m a bit of a soppy old fool these days … but I meant what I said.’
Now Bettina was asking, ‘So he’s noticeably better?’
‘Oh, yes, definitely. But, God, it’s slow, Bet. I can’t see an end to it.’
‘Don’t say that,’ her friend said anxiously. ‘He’s not your responsibility any more, Romy. He’s really not.’ A pause. Romy knew what was coming and she knew Bettina was right. ‘I think you should start findingsomeone else to help Daniel, if he needs it. You’ve done your bit. You need to go home.’
‘Yeah,’ she said, feeling too tired to speak. ‘I know I do. And I will.’ It should be simple, but the thought of telling Michael she was going back to Sussex made her falter. ‘He’s still very weak,’ she added lamely.
Bettina was silent.
Romy took a deep breath. ‘But I’m going out tonight.’ She hadn’t yet told her friend about Finch. There had been nothing to tell until recently, and then there had been Michael’s stroke. So now she wanted to reassure her that she was not falling back into a relationship with a man Bettina had always been a bit wary of. Although she nearly hadn’t agreed to Finch’s invitation when he’d called.
‘I’m coming up tomorrow,’ Finch had said. ‘Got a couple of meetings. I thought I might stay over and we could have supper together.’
Romy had not answered immediately. She’d felt almost panicky at his request, as if even the possibility were too much for her to process. All she had in her head was Michael, Michael, Michael. So when she’d eventually replied, she’d said, ‘God, that would be lovely. But I’m not sure. It’s such a long process getting Michael settled at night and I’m always so knackered afterwards.’
There had been a very long silence, during which Romy felt she could hear Finch’s thoughts as if he had actually spoken them:Too knackered to have supper with me?
‘Pity,’ she’d heard him say, his voice determinedly light. ‘Another time, then.’
She’d known he was about to hang up and her palm was sticky on the handset as she rushed out the nextwords: ‘Oh, to hell with it,’ she’d said. ‘Of course I’ll have dinner with you. I’m getting so one-track, these days, I can’t see past the end of my nose … or Michael’s nose, more like.’ She heard him laugh dutifully. ‘I’d really love to see you,’ she’d added slowly, allowing her feelings for Finch to inhabit every word. And she knew he’d heard.
‘Good,’ said Bettina now. ‘Who with?’
Romy suppressed a smile her friend couldn’t see and replied casually, ‘Just a man.’
There was silence at the other end of the line. ‘Umm, what sort of just-a-man?’
‘The sort you go out with.’ Romy was enjoying herself; enjoying talking about Finch and not Michael; the future, not the past.
‘Wait … Are we talking about what I think we’re talking about?’
‘We are, indeed.’ Romy found herself giggling like a schoolgirl.
She heard her friend whoop. ‘Oh … my … God. You dark horse, Romy Claire.’ Bettina whistled softly. ‘And you didn’t think to mention it?’
‘I am mentioning it.’
‘Well, go on, then. Mention it some more.’
Unable to bear meeting Finch wearing either of the two pairs of jeans, or any of the tired old T-shirts she’d brought with her to the flat, Romy nipped out and wandered round the shops for half an hour. She came back with a wraparound jersey dress in green and gold. She very seldom wore anything except trousers these days – but it wasJune, and she’d been inspired by Wendy in her fetching summer dress. She wanted to look good for Finch.
She helped Daniel get Michael settled for the night, then showered and changed into her new dress and a pair of pumps, which she dug out from a box at the back of her old wardrobe – neither she nor Michael had cleared it out.
Feeling nervous and guilty – it was almost as if she were having an affair, sneaking out behind Michael’s back – she picked up her navy jacket, checked her image once more in the mirror, then opened her bedroom door. Finch had told her to meet him in Soho, at a trendy dim-sum restaurant she’d never been to. But as she began to walk down the corridor, the blasted bell sounded.
She hesitated.Don’t stop, urged a voice in her head. She had told Michael she was going out, but she was sure he would have forgotten by now. If there was a problem, Daniel could deal with it, now he was living in the flat full time. But she knew she would worry if she didn’t go to him.
Michael stared when Romy entered the room.
‘Gracious,’ he murmured. ‘You look stunning.’
