Did The Earth Move? (20 page)

Big beams of July sunlight were splashing in the window as Eve sipped tea at the kitchen table. Every season was good, but for Eve, summer was the best. In the garden, where Anna and Robbie had already taken their toys out for the day, pink and orange flowers were bursting out of pots, corners and borders. The vibrant gladioli buds were emerging square-tipped from their sheaths like brand new lipsticks.

'Shall we invite the vet for supper?' Eve asked when Anna appeared at the door. Today, if he's free ... or maybe tomorrow?'

Anna considered this request carefully: she was suspicious of her mother and the vet. But maybe she should watch them at close quarters, try and work out what was going on.

'OK,' she said, not adding anything else to it.

Eve took the lack of comment as a sign that Anna suspected nothing. Oh, why should she? She was only nine.

'What are you and Robbie up to?' she asked with a smile.

'Oh the sandpit...' Anna gave a big sigh. 'I'm trying to build a water feature, but Robbie keeps knocking it down.'

'Ah.' A water feature?! In the sandpit? Eve was trying hard not to laugh.

Nils, sounding more than a little surprised to get her call, agreed to come round that evening. 'Are you trying me out one last time?' he'd asked.

'Something like that,' she'd told him. And this wasn't so far from the truth. She'd heard her father regret all the years he'd spent alone and taken a message from it about her own life.

Dinner out in the garden was lovely. Candles flickered, fairy lights twinkled, the children flitted up and down from the chairs, in and out of the house, providing a constant babble and distraction. Eve, dressed in a 'I'm really not
trying
to be this pretty' outfit of vest, flirty, flowery skirt, glitter pink toenails and sequined flip-flops, made a noodly vegetable approximation of chow mein, which everyone seemed to like. Then there were bowls of whipped cream studded with the warm raspberries the children had picked from the two canes she kept in the garden.

She laughed a lot with Nils and together they drank enough ice-cold white wine for her to feel relaxed and happy.

'So, that's the little people tucked up in bed,' she said, as she came back from the twenty-minute tussle of washing, teeth, stories, good-night kisses and last minute pleading requests to stay up 'just a bit later'.

She had a cardigan wrapped round her now because it was growing cool with a slight breeze.

'Shall we go to bed too?' she asked with a smile and sat herself down in his lap for the kind of kissing she'd been looking forward to all night.

'Well that was easy,' he said, putting his arms round her. 'I thought I was going to have to do a whole seduction routine... woo you... impress you.'

'No,' was her reply, 'I'm willing.'

She put a raspberry into her mouth then bent down to kiss him, bursting it against his tongue.

Tasting wine, berries and his warm mouth, she felt his fingers move under her skirt. She slipped arms round his neck and let him move into her pants and tease her there. Then she felt for his zip and wanted him, right here on his lap, to the sound of radio, chat and clanking dishes drifting over the garden from the neighbouring houses.

She held his earlobe between her lips, kept her eyes closed and her nose against his hair as he moved quickly inside her.

Later, she sneaked him into her bedroom where they peeled off each other's clothes intending to make love again, this time properly, slowly, soaking up every moment they had together.

But just as Nils was telling her to: 'Please say you're going to come soon . ..' the phone rang. Loud, insistent, threatening to wake up the children, so Eve leapt out naked into the sitting room to answer it.

Bloody hell. Why hadn't she remembered to turn down the volume and switch on the answering machine? She was so out of practice with the whole sex thing.

'Hello?'

'Hello, Eve, it's Joseph. How are you?'

Joseph? Joseph! Another timing masterstroke. Definitely regretting not having the answering machine on now. This was too weird.

'Hello,' she said as perfectly normally . . . chirpily as she could manage. 'I'm fine. We're fine. We're all OK.'

'And how's your dad?'

'He's really good. He's going to be fine.'

'That's great. So...' He was getting to the point now. For a moment it flashed across her mind that maybe he would want to talk about
that
night. She felt her stomach lurch. 'Eve . . . you know we talked about me looking after Anna and Robbie for a few days?'

'Oh yes.'

'Would you still like to do that? Maybe you'd like to take a weekend off, go to your dad's or your sister's ... I thought I'd look after them at your place, because Robbie would probably prefer that.'

A weekend off?!! For a moment, she imagined driving fast down an empty road without
Sesame Street's
Silly Songs blasting from the tape player.

'It's a great idea,' she told him, 'I'd really like that. But can I call you back tomorrow? I've got someone round at the moment.'

'Yeah, of course. Who is it?'

'Oh . . . no-one you know. Erm, from work. Someone from work.'

'Yeah, of course.'
Someone from work . . . at 11p.m.?
'Speak to you soon.'

'Yeah ... thanks for phoning.'

They said their goodbyes and she put the phone down, feeling odd... Why had they never talked about that night? Why didn't they want to figure out what was going on there? Or not going on... or
what???

She didn't get the chance to think about it any more because then Anna walked in.

'Mum, why are you naked?'

'Uirtmm. Why are you up?'

'I've had a bad dream.'

'Well, have a glass of water and go back to bed.'

'Why are you naked?' Anna asked again.

'I thought my pyjamas were in here . . . but they're not.' Pathetic, but the best she could come up with in the circumstances.

'Shall I look in your room?' Anna offered.

'No!'
Major panic, young, impressionable daughter walking in on naked vet. 'Water and back to bed.'

'All right, there's no need to be so huffy.' Anna was feeling hurt now; usually her mum dropped everything for a nightmare, tucked her in, cuddled up next to her for a bit, told her not to worry. But she went back to her room and Eve slunk into hers.

She'd always thought it was a serious design flaw that children didn't come with a pause button, so that when totally harassed and annoyed and driven wild by yet another toddler tantrum, demand, whatever, parents should be allowed to press pause. Even just for two minutes – any longer and it would be open to abuse. You'd have three-year-olds coming round ten years later to find they'd got all tall and hairy or children would figure out how to pause each other for a laugh. Well, OK, maybe it wasn't such a good idea.

Finger on her lips, she tiptoed across her room. The vet smiled, pulled the sheet over his head and waved at her to come and join him.

She got into bed.

'You're freezing,' he said and cuddled her up against him.

'You have to go,' she whispered.

'What, now, when you're so cold?' He brushed a hand down her back, pulled her in close against him. She could feel all sorts of interested perkings and stirrings starting up between them.

But still she said: 'No . . . I'm sorry. My daughter's having nightmares and wandering about the house. It's definitely time to send you home.'

He gave her one long, long final kiss and got out of bed.

She watched as he dressed himself.

This was the strangest affair she'd ever had. It was about friendship, laughter, sex, and not phoning very often. There was no longing, no passion, no chance of getting hurt. And, it occurred to her, the sex was of the athletic, we're all-grown-ups kind, not the let-me-look-into-your-soul lovemaking that, quite frankly, would scare her to death right now.

She really liked Nils, but if he disappeared tomorrow, it wouldn't matter to her. She wasn't going to let it matter.

'D'you want to come to the wedding with me?' she heard herself ask.
WHAT? Was she insane? Why was she doing this? Please say no, please say no.

'Your son's wedding?' Nils was asking back.

'Yes, on 17 August.' Maybe he would have something else planned for that day.

'Your son's wedding which is going to be attended by Dennis, the father of your older boys and Joseph, the father of your little ones, oh and Joseph's fiancee, not to mention all your friends, family and the new-in-laws?'

'Yeeeeeees.'
The vet must not come.

'I'd really like to be there, Eve.'
Oh my God.
'But I don't think I should. It's too important.' He sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. 'You don't want to distract people with your casual boyfriend.' His eyes were fixed on hers and he was smiling. 'You can come and see me any time, before or afterwards, if you need someone. But it's too important... Be strong,' he told her and touched her forehead with his finger. 'Go alone. Be proud to be alone.'

She suddenly felt a surge of teariness. Was she proud to be alone? Or was she too proud to be alone?
Or so proud she was alone?

'You're a good person,' she told him. 'I'm sorry I don't like you a bit more ... I mean, I'm sorry I don't
really
like you.'

'You don't really like me?' He was still smiling at her. He'd missed the nuance.

'No... no, I mean... I'm not in love with you. Well, you know that. But I feel sorry about it.'

'I'm not in love with you,' he said. 'Shall we not be in love together?'

She managed a laugh at this.

'No,' she said, serious now. 'We deserve better. We'll just have to keep looking.'

He nodded his head at her and as he began to do up the buttons on his shirt, she felt a pang of something. Regret? Loneliness? It still felt the more natural state to share your bed, to have someone live, human and warm, dressing, undressing, talking at your bedside. She could get used to this in an instant. It was being alone, making it up as you went along that was hard.

Joseph lay in Eve's little bed and found he couldn't get to sleep although he'd been up since six o'clock that morning when Robbie had burst in, but on seeing him, had screamed and run straight back out again.

It was only 11p.m., but he was worn out by his first full day with the children. His
children!
He had
two
children and this was the first time he'd been alone with them both. Up until now, Eve had never left him in charge of both Anna and Robbie before and it was
exhausting.

He had found his first day terrifying. Breakfast had started at seven and they had wanted complicated stuff like porridge, boiled eggs, apple-and-carrot juice made in the juicer. He was partly impressed that Eve was bringing them up so perfectly healthily, but partly infuriated by her as well. How did she manage all this stuff and get to work on time as well? Bloody perfect parent. He had stumbled round the kitchen, searching for coffee, but the strongest thing he could come up with was a decaffeinated Earl Grey teabag.

He'd forgotten about all the weird stuff she kept in her cupboards: black unsulphured apricots, packets of pumpkin seeds, organic popping corn, bags and bags of oats . . . did she have a horse somewhere he didn't know about? When he unthinkingly put his teabag into the rubbish, Anna had scolded him and he'd had to fish it out and put it in the composting bin. All the bottles and tins had to be washed out and piled into the relevant – admittedly overflowing – cupboards for recycling. How had he forgotten all this?

He thought about his life of dinners out, throwaway cups of coffee, plastic sushi lunch-boxes, wine bottles guiltily slung into the rubbish ... gas-guzzler of a car... Oh, she was infuriating him just with the contents of her kitchen. But here was the thing he couldn't let go of: she was quirky. She was an original. He'd never met anyone like Eve. She was still well and truly under his skin. And these lovely little people chomping their way through their wholesome, wholefoody breakfasts, they were his. They were well and truly under his skin too. Where he wanted them to be. He had taken them out for most of the day on a park crawl, with a visit to a cafe for lunch, and by the time they were back home at 5p.m. he had been desperate to lie on the sofa with them watching cartoons but instead, he'd had to cobble together some sort of supper. Even though it was his first night on duty and he had meant to cook himself, he was far too tired, he'd bought no groceries and he knew the freezer was bound to be stuffed with the neat little boxes, tubs and jars full of Eve's soups, stews and even puddings, so he'd guiltily pulled out a selection, emptied them into pots and heated them up.

Then at bath time there had been that conversation with Robbie who had suddenly piped up: 'What is a daddy?'

'Ermm,' had been Joseph's first attempt at an answer, as he wondered how much of a 'separated parent' explanation you could give three-year-olds.

'What does a daddy do?' Robbie had asked, looking up as Joseph tried to shampoo him without getting the stuff into his eyes.

'Ermm.'

'Do they play football?'

'Yes!' Maybe this wasn't going to be so hard. 'Daddies play football and read you stories and ... tickle you—' this got a giggle. 'And they give you piggy-backs.' Another giggle.

'OK,' Robbie said finally, with a theatrically deep sigh, as Joseph rinsed the shampoo off. 'You can be my daddy.'

Joseph helped him out of the bath and cuddled the little boy up in a towel.

Then Robbie added: 'Do daddies sleep in mummies' beds?'

'No. Not all the time.'

'But you're sleeping in Mummy's bed.' 'Well, she's not here... When she comes back, I'll go to my house.' 'Why?' 'Robbie, what about a game of hide-and-seek?'

Now finally, Joseph was in bed, noticing all the ways the room had changed since he'd lived here with Eve. She'd repainted it a deep, rosy pink and the gilt-framed mirror above the chest of drawers, all hung with beads and chains, was new. There was more space now that their large double bed had been changed for a smaller one and Eve had made it unashamedly girlie with fuchsia sheets and a bedspread and curtains of pink and gold saris.

He had not been able to resist opening her cupboard to look at the clothes: some he remembered but most were new. Apart from her black work suits, all lined up neatly on the left, she liked to buy cheap and update regularly. Tie-dyed pink, fake fur lined denim jacket, shaggy waistcoats, surfer girl tops – she was still totally hip. A forty-something market stall and Top Shop fanatic.

He'd looked through the bookcase and the pile on the bedside table to see what she was reading – a book by the Dalai Lama caught his eye – but he hadn't opened any drawers, knowing that was where she kept papers and diaries and all sorts of private things he had no right to poke into.

She still had the inch-high photo of him with baby Anna in his arms in an enamelled frame on her bedside table, he'd noted, alongside a bigger snap of Anna and Robbie and a faded primary school portrait of Denny and Tom smiling missing-toothed grins. The sheets and pillowcases were new on, but still when he lay back on the pillow he could smell lavender, sandalwood and rose, the droplets she sprinkled to help her sleep. And something else too, the musky vanilla which was her own particular smell. He buried his nose in the pillow and tried to breathe in a big lungful of it, but the harder he tried to smell it, the more elusive it became.

Best to lie back, breathe gently and catch it in little wafts.

He couldn't help but be impressed with her. She worked, she cooked, she decorated, she gardened, she looked good, she was bringing up the children so well and she did it all alone. He thought guiltily that she must be busy every moment of the day. His own weekday evenings were spent socializing, going to the cinema, going out for dinner with Michelle. In this household, he knew, evenings were a rota of baths, bedtime stories, loading the washing machine, folding socks and collapsing onto the sofa at the end of the day. He'd often wondered why she hadn't found someone else to take his place, and now he suspected that she didn't ever have the time. Why was thinking about sock-folding making him feel sad? And what the hell was that bleeping?

He had been lying there for about twenty minutes now and had thought the low bleep sounding every minute or so was coming from the street, but now he was sure it was in the room.

Bleep... bleep... he tried to follow the sound. He flicked on the sidelight, got up and walked slowly round the room.

Bleep ... under the bed? Lifting up the sari, he saw a small black pager with a flickering red light.

Hmmm . . . He flicked the back case off and removed the offending low battery. He didn't think she had one of these. Even the probation service had stretched to a mobile phone for Eve. He put the pager on top of the chest of drawers and went back to bed, not giving it another thought until the phone rang late the next evening and a heavily accented male voice, slightly disconcerted by Joseph, explained that he was a friend of Eve's and was she there?

'No, she's gone away for a few days.'

'I see ...'

'Can I pass on a message at all?'

'Yes ... are you a friend of the family?'

'I'm Joe – Anna and Robbie's dad.'

'Oh, I see . . . ummm.' Pause. 'Please tell Eve Nils rang and ... she won't be able to help right now . . . but I might have dropped my pager when I was round ... when I came to visit... a few days ago.' Awkward clearing of throat.

Joseph felt a surprising lurch of his stomach as he realized he was talking to Eve's lover. He had begun to suspect that there was a man floating around in the background. It wasn't something he'd had to confront until now. A dropped pager under her bed had given her away.

'Actually, there is a pager lying on the bookcase in the hall. A small black one. Maybe Eve found it and forgot to mention it to you before she went away.'

'Ah.'

'Do you want to come by and you can check if it's yours?' Joseph found his curiosity was hard to resist.

Nils sounded relieved and they agreed a time the following evening.

'The Dutch vet who looks after the cats. I think he wants to be Mum's boyfriend' – this was all the information Joseph could glean from Anna. Nils was not very different from how Joseph had pictured him. A chunky, blond guy with a big physical presence.

He took up the whole doorway and made the solid front door seem lightweight. The pager disappeared into his large hands and, after a quick check, into the pocket of his overcoat.

'Hello. How are your cats?' he'd asked Anna and Robbie who had come to the door to see him.

'Well, thanks then.' This to Joseph. 'Sorry to trouble you. How is Eve doing? Is she going to be back soon?'

'I'm not sure,' Joseph had told him, realizing he was taking some comfort from the fact that Eve hadn't told Nils where she was. They obviously weren't that much of an item . . . Oh for goodness sake. What did he know? What should he care? But he realized he did care and he wasn't sure what to make of the feeling.

When Eve phoned later that evening to speak to the children, after the long menu of the day's events she made him go through, he told her: 'A friend of yours came round to pick up something he'd left here ...'

'Oh?'

'Nils.'

'Oh ... What did he leave?'

'His pager. Anna found it in the sitting room,' he heard himself adding because he suddenly didn't want to hear anything from her about who this man was and what he meant to her.

'Oh,' Eve answered and, knowing perfectly well that Nils was never in the sitting room, wondered why Joseph wasn't telling her he'd found it in her bedroom. She couldn't help giving a little giggle.

'He isn't really a friend, you know,' she said.

'Oh,' from Joseph.

'Casual sex ...' she whispered.

'Oh!'

'I don't really want a relationship now ... But a bit of adventure, just once in a while . . .' Her voice had dropped to a whisper. Why was this giving him goosepimples?

'It's high time I got over you.' She made this sound jokey. But there it was, all naked and out in the open: she still had to get over him.

She took a steadying breath and added: 'How is Michelle?'

'Oh, fine,' was all he said.

'Good,' Eve replied and then asked to speak to the children.

As he lay in her bed now, Joseph found it hard to get the giggled, whispered line out of his head 'A bit of adventure ... just once in a while.' He didn't want to think of her having adventures with anyone else.

He didn't want her to share this room with someone else. He didn't want Anna and Robbie to grow up loving the man who would be sharing this room with her. So what the hell did he want exactly? He lived in another city. He was with someone else... he was getting married, for God's sake. What the hell had he expected Eve to do? Not get over him? Ever?