Rachel was obviously being impossible, but I kidded myself that Christmas would fix it. She’d be under
my roof for days on end, not flitting in and out like the other two. She’d be able to see how much I loved
her, even if we exasperated each other along the way. That was our dynamic, our seamless two-st
Ep I
felt sure she hadn’t forgotten the moves. How could she, when we’d practised tirelessly for so many
years?
It wasn’t like I hadn’t been thinking about Esther since the christening, wondering whether she was
going to need dealing with. But it still didn’t lessen the shock I felt that night. With Rachel out of the
picture, I had leftover love to give, and on this particular evening it took me to his office after hours, like
some kind of demented 1950 s housewife. Obviously I hadn’t cooked the chicken fricassee myself – I’d
picked it up from an overpriced French deli next to the final viewing of the day, a family home in Ealing
which a visiting American couple were going to be paying top dollar to rent after I’d told them they’d
likely be camping in Hyde Park come January if they didn’t make a snap decision. People ultimately
benefit from clarity, even if they don’t appreciate it in the short term.
The deli had a blue-and-white checked awning, stacks of Christmas treats piled up high in the window. I
queued impatiently behind well-heeled locals grabbing a bottle of Beaujolais to get them through the
night, then picked out a few glistening chicken thighs on top of a bed of potatoes. I even threw in a
bottle of wine of my own, just in case Nick had time for an office picnic between his endless calls.
The security guard waved me upstairs without bothering to call to announce me. I sw ept through the
corridors unimpeded, the rec eption desk deserted. When I got to his office, Nick was bent over his
computer, eyes narrowed in concentration, his aquiline profile illuminated like a pencil sketch by the
light it
was giving out. I watched him for a couple of seconds before I made my presence known. ‘Surprise!’ I
trilled, pulling the plastic boxes out of the carrier bag, adorned with pretentious twirly writing. ‘Extra
surprise!’ I said, reaching back in for the bottle of wine. ‘Oh God, do you even have a corkscrew?’ He
gave a quick, tight smile. ‘Not in my top drawer,’ he said. ‘We’ve reached our quota of drunks in this
family.’ I didn’t smile. ‘There’s probably one in the kitchen,’ he added.
He didn’t immediately move to go and get it. ‘This is amazing, Lil!’ he said, but his tone wasn’t selling
it to me. I was still standing, the two boxes marooned forlornly on his wide desk, the twinkly lights of
the city a backdrop to the whole strange tableau. I pulled up a chair so we were sat opposite each other.
‘I know you’re busy. Wine was a bit of a wild card. There’s some plastic cutlery in the bag.’ I reached
down to find it. ‘I just wanted you to know I appreciate you – we appreciate you – and we know how
hard you’re working to get everything done before Christmas.’
Nick’s mouth was ajar, like a sentence was waiting to be born, his eyes elsewhere. I turned around, and
there she was, standing awkwardly in the doorway. She was wearing a grey skirt suit, the fabric
crumpling unattractively around her hips, the size she’d picked off the rack clearly far too optimistic.
‘Hi, Lily!’ she said, a toothy grin splattered across her round face. ‘What a treat!’
‘Esther!’ I said, forcing my voice to sail upwards like hers had. ‘Come and join us. If you get a fork
from the kitchen, I’m sure this chicken will stretch three ways.’ The silence stretched out for a couple of
seconds before she shook her head. I like to think she blushed, but it’s probably wishful thinking. ‘I’m
just leaving, actually. I’ve only got a couple of weeks here, but hopefully you’ll be in again before we
finish up for Christmas.’
We. ‘Or come and see us over the break!’ I said. ‘The kids would be thrilled. We can definitely promise
you a mince pie or two.’
‘I’ll be back with my folks,’ she said, wriggling in the frame of the door like a specimen on a slide. They
were in Barnsley or somewhere. I could still hear that Northern lilt in her voice. ‘Definitely in the New
Year, though!’ ‘Esther was a bit short of Christmas cash,’ said Nick, jumping in. ‘So I said at the
christening we could do with an extra pair of hands here. Better than a temp agency.’
‘Good thinking!’ I said. Every utterance I forced out of my mouth came with an exclamation mark. ‘It
was a fab day,’ said Esther. ‘The baby’s a proper little poppet, isn’t she?’ A flash of Rachel, her cheek
pressed against the cold floor of the toilet like it was home. ‘I know,’ I said. ‘We’re very lucky.’ ‘So, are
you going to get that corkscrew?’ I asked Nick once she’d finally disappeared.
‘Coming right up,’ he said, popping up from his chair like a sweaty jack-in- the-box. Once he’d come
back and opened the bottle, I slugged back a plastic cup. It was expensive Chablis, but it didn’t taste that
way: it was warm and sweet, a soupy mess. I still went in for a second ‘glass’, poking at the chicken
with my plastic fork. It was hard to force a mouthful of it down my tight throat.
‘Esther looks well,’ I said casually, even though I thought she looked like an extra from the Australian
soap operas the kids used to crowd around after school. But then, I’m sure part of her charm was her
lack of sophistication. ‘Yeah, I’m glad to be able to help her out,’ said Nick, taking a more modest sip
from his own cup. ‘She’s been teaching English as a foreign language in Spain. She’s come back here,
and the only place she could afford sounds more like a doss house than a flat share. It’s in Turnpike
fucking Lane.’
‘It’s been a while since we saw her,’ I said, my tone as light as I could make it. ‘Yeah, it has,’ he agreed,
his tone k ept equally weightless. ‘It was nice that Josh invited her after all that time.’ He glanced down
at his watch. ‘This was great, Lily.’
I threw the remains back in the carrier bag, all gristle and bones. ‘Duty calls, I know,’ I said, tying up
the top of it. ‘You ke ep fighting the good fight, and I’ll see you back at base camp.’ He smiled up at me
from behind the desk. ‘Thanks for this...’ – he stumbled for a second – ‘unexpected pleasure.’ ‘I like to
ke ep surprising you,’ I shot back.
We both stopped dead. ‘Let’s get all the kids round this weekend,’ said Nick, recovering. ‘Do a Sunday
roast. Family time.’ ‘That’s a great idea,’ I agreed. I moved towards the door, carrier bag clutched in my
left hand, the wine sloshing around in my right. ‘Love you, Lily,’ he called after my retreating back. I
didn’t turn around.