Page 93 of The Life She Could Have Lived
Anna looked at her watch. ‘Yes. It’s twelve twenty-five.’
‘Bit early for shots, don’t you think?’
Nia gave the barman a stern look and he held his hands up as if to say it was nothing to do with him. He was young, late twenties or just about early thirties.
‘Oh, guess what?’Anna squealed. ‘This is Julius!’
Nia smiled tightly. ‘Oh yes?’
‘Another please, Julius,’ Anna said.
The barman looked from Anna to Nia and back again.
‘No,’ Nia said sharply. ‘I’m taking her home.’
Anna wanted to protest but didn’t have the energy. She slid off the bar stool and felt suddenly much more drunk than she had when she’d been sitting down.
‘Have you eaten anything?’ Nia asked.
Anna shook her head.
‘Right.’
When they were at the door, Nia’s arm hooked firmly through Anna’s, Nia turned and looked at the barman again.
‘If she comes in again, don’t let her get this drunk.’
It was a five-minute walk back to Anna’s flat, and she let herself be pulled along the Balham streets by Nia. They didn’t say much. At Anna’s front door, Nia helped her find her keys and they went inside. Once Anna was settled on the sofa, Nia looked through the fridge and then said she was going out again.
‘I’m just nipping back to Sainsbury’s to get you some food. Don’t go anywhere.’
Anna had no intention of going anywhere, but soon after Nia left, she found that she was crying. Had she cried in the bar? Had she told that young barman everything? How she had thought she’d finally found her happy ending with Ben, only for him to have a heart attack and die on her less than four years later? She had no idea. All she remembered was heading out for a quick walk and then feeling herself pulled towards that bar, where she’d drunk with Ben a handful of times. She’d thought perhaps she’d go in for some lunch, but once she was inside, sitting on a bar stool, she had known. She’d gone in for one reason and one reason only, and that was to search for oblivion.
It seemed like no time at all had passed before Nia was back,a bag of shopping in each hand. She talked to Anna as she unpacked the bags in the kitchen.
‘Milk, tea, biscuits, bread, cereal, soup, cheese, eggs, potatoes, carrots, salad. This should keep you going for a bit. What would you like now, for lunch? Shall I make you a sandwich?’
Anna stood up and went through to the kitchen. ‘Why were you looking for me today?’
‘What do you mean?’
Anna shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I just… Don’t you have things you should be doing, with Jamie and Cara?’
‘Don’t do this,’ Nia said, pulling slices of bread from the packet she’d just opened. ‘Don’t shut me out.’
‘I don’t want to be a burden.’
‘And you’re not.’
They didn’t talk much while Nia made sandwiches and tea. They carried them into the living room, sat down on the sofa.
‘Have you thought any more about going back to work?’ Nia asked. ‘Have they been in touch?’
‘No,’ Anna said.
She thought about going back to the office. It was unimaginable at the moment. All those people there who relied on her, who expected her to make decisions and know what she was talking about. To focus. To sit at her desk for an entire day and not scream or cry or throw things. She wasn’t ready.
‘I can’t do it,’ she said. ‘I can’t imagine being able to do it.’
