Page 11 of Wild Swimming at Croftwood Lake
‘It was quicker than I thought it would be to get across town,’ she said.
‘Come in,’ he said, standing aside to let her pass. ‘Straight up the stairs.’
Nora climbed the stairs and emerged into a bright open-plan living room and kitchen with double doors that led onto a tiny balcony and overlooked the Avon gorge.
‘This view is amazing,’ she said, walking over to look out of the window.
‘It is,’ he agreed. ‘Coffee?’
‘Yes, please.’
She turned and took in the rest of the space, having been too drawn by the view to notice at first. Some of the furniture she recognised, more of it she didn’t. In particular, the old G-Plan sofa they’d had for years, that he’d insisted on having, was missing, replaced by a modern L-shaped slouchy thing covered in more cushions than she’d ever seen on one sofa before.
‘You’ve got a new sofa.’
‘The old one wouldn’t fit up the stairs.’
How the old one wouldn’t fit up the stairs if this mammoth sofa-cum-double bed did, she had no idea. She wanted to say that she would never have agreed to him having the sofa if there was any possibility he was going to get rid of it. Out of all their shared possessions, it had been one of the most contentious and now it appeared he hadn’t wanted it that badly anyway. But she fought the urge to say anything because she was glad not to have too many reminders of that life in her new one. If he gave her the sofa now, all she would remember was the time they bought it and all the times they’d laid out on it together. Times when they’d been happy. There was something about a sofa that held more memories – good and bad – than say, her favourite armchair, a chest of drawers or a table.
‘Shame. That was a good sofa.’
He did at least look guilty for a second and looked like he might be about to apologise, which, after all the arguing over the past few months, was a rare thing. But he didn’t say anything. He brought the coffees over to the sofa and put them down on a wooden board perched on top of one of those trendy massive footstools that was so big it would take up most of Nora’s lounge.
‘So how’s the new place?’ he asked.
‘Good, thanks. Still finding my way around the town, but it seems nice. How about you? This place is amazing.’
He looked guarded, and Nora had the feeling that she was missing something. ‘Yes, I mean it’s not ideal…’
‘It’s not what I expected, if I’m honest. You used to hate houses like this.’ It still niggled her about how he could have afforded it. A part-time art teacher’s salary, even topped up with sales of his pieces through local galleries, didn’t add up to this.
‘I have something to tell you. I didn’t tell you before because… well, we had a lot going on, with the house sale and everything. I’ve met someone else.’
Nora sat in silence for a minute, doing the maths. Even if she counted back to when she’d first suggested perhaps things weren’t working any more. Back to that time when she realised the problems they had were insurmountable after all. That wasn’t more than six months ago. He’d met and moved in with someone else in six months? After coming out of a twenty-year relationship?
‘You were seeing her before we split up,’ she said.
He gave her the same look he had a few minutes ago. Guilt mixed with a startled look that said he hadn’t expected her to work it out.
‘Nora —’
‘It’s fine. It’s nothing to do with me anymore.’ She gulped the coffee down and stood up. ‘I’d better go. Have you got my box?’ It wasn’t because she was upset. But she suddenly felt like an intruder. This was someone else’s house, and she didn’t want to be part of any of this.
Julian stood up and put a hand on her arm, which she shrugged away from, stunned that he would think she would find that comforting.
‘Nora. She’s not here. Anyway, she knows you were coming. She’s fine with it.’
‘I’m sure she is, Julian. She has all the information available to her to make an informed decision about what she’s comfortable with, whereas I feel a little blindsided.’
Julian stood up and stood in between Nora and the top of the stairs. ‘I know how it looks.’
‘How does it look?’ she retorted. ‘Because if you think it looks like you’ve moved on before the dust has settled on our twenty-year relationship and that you got rid of our sofa because of someone else, then yes, that’s what it looks like!’
‘The sofa wouldn’t fit up the stairs,’ he said weakly.
‘Oh, shut up about the bloody sofa! Give me the box so I can get out of your life, Julian!’ She was yelling now. All the feelings she’d been so careful to control over the past few months when she’d been aware that it was she wanting to end things. Feeling that she had no right to be the injured party when all the time, Julian had been seeing someone else. If she hadn’t called time on their relationship, what would have happened? Would he have been cheating on her? Had the relationship started before she had wanted to end theirs? Is that what had sent them into the downward spiral that spelled the end? These were all things she was desperate to know, but too proud to ask. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. As it was, she had come here for a box and was leaving with a whole lot more.
Julian gestured down the stairs. ‘The box is in the hall,’ he said.
