Everything and Nothing (22 page)

Ruth’s mother raised her eyebrow. Ruth took this to mean she should be doing the baking. ‘How wonderful of you. And I believe you’ve given up your room for us.’

‘Oh, it’s nothing, it’s fine.’

‘Well, it’s very kind of you.’

They had an uncomfortable lunch round the kitchen table with Hal refusing to sit down. In the end Aggie took his plate into the plastic house and said she’d sit with him there. When they came back the plate was clear but Aggie shook her head at Ruth, ‘Sorry, no luck again. I finished it as it seemed a shame to let it go to waste.’

‘Is he still not eating?’ asked Ruth’s mother.

Ruth didn’t feel strong enough for this today. ‘No, no progress. We went to see a nutritionist but it didn’t work out.’

‘Why, what did he say?’

‘The same as the GP. To start him on anything, like chocolate biscuits, sweets, anything and then move forward.’

‘Sounds damned sensible to me,’ said her father, pushing away his plate.

‘No, but it’s not.’ Ruth tried to control the whine in her voice which made her sound fourteen again. ‘Everyone knows that children have very specific taste buds. If they get used to something it takes them ages to get away from it. He could become addicted to sweet things and then I’d never get him to eat anything good.’

‘I don’t think that’s very likely,’ said her mother. ‘Children grow out of everything in the end. You don’t see many sixteen-year-olds sucking bottles or only eating chocolate biscuits or cuddling their favourite teddy or sitting on their mummy’s laps.’

Ruth’s smile was tight. ‘Maybe.’ Or maybe her mother hadn’t had to deal with a problem like this. Maybe her mother didn’t know what she was talking about. She changed the subject. ‘How do you two fancy taking Hal to the park? We could walk on and get Betty from school.’

‘Great,’ said her mother.

‘What about Hal’s sleep?’ asked Aggie.

‘I’m sure he could do without it,’ answered Ruth.

‘But it’s his party tomorrow, we don’t want him to be overtired.’

Ruth stood up. She felt that in a minute she was going to lose it, whatever it was; she supposed it must be worth hanging on to. ‘Don’t worry, Aggie. If he’s overtired I’ll deal with it.’ No one answered her this time.

Christian couldn’t concentrate at work. His mind kept drifting and he was unsure of everything he did. Soon his thoughts became too large and made him question every aspect of his life. He realised that Ruth had been saying all of this to him for a few years now. All those times she’d asked him if he thought they’d got it wrong and he’d been bemused by what she meant. Now he understood and saw her patience. It must have been like trying to communicate with someone from an Amazonian tribe. He couldn’t believe she’d stuck around for as long as she had.

He tried calling her at ten-thirty but she didn’t pick up. He tried again an hour later and when she still didn’t answer he left a garbled message. ‘I’m sorry, Ruth. Not for the Sarah thing, although obviously I am sorry for that as well. But for not being there all this time. For not understanding what you’ve been saying and what you needed. Maybe you’ve been right. I don’t know. Maybe we have got it wrong. Please call me when you get this, I want to hear your voice, I feel strange.’

And he did feel strange. Unsure of himself and cast adrift. His head felt too big for his body and his brain seemed to have lost the power to control his actions. If he’d been sure of his welcome he’d have gone home sick. Instead he called Toby, who surprised him by answering.

‘I’ve just got off the plane from Ibiza. I was about to give you a buzz about tomorrow. What time are we expected?’

‘I don’t know. I think three. Who’s we?’

‘Oh shit, I meant to ask. Is it okay if I bring Gabriella along? She’s this girl I met in Ibiza. She’s great.’

Christian envisaged the teenage model he would no doubt turn up with and for the first time in his life didn’t wish himself into another being. ‘Yeah, whatever. Listen, have you got a minute, I need to ask you something?’

‘What?’

‘I’ve been a dick.’

‘That’s not a question.’

‘I’ve been seeing a bit of Sarah. Not like that. Nothing happened, but she got the wrong end of the stick and went to see Ruth and told her I was leaving.’

‘Shit.’

‘I know.’

‘When did this happen?’

‘Yesterday. Fuck, it feels like about a week ago.’

‘How did Ruth take it?’

‘As you’d expect.’

‘You’re an arse, man.’

‘I know.’

‘Do you think it’s saveable?’

‘I don’t know. It has to be. I don’t know what I’d do without her.’ Christian surprised himself by hearing a catch in his voice. He hadn’t cried in years. Not since last time.

‘Look, I’m not going to lecture you because it sounds like you’re giving yourself a hard enough time, but shit, what were you thinking?’

‘I wasn’t fucking thinking, was I? Toby, am I a total dick?’

‘Is that what you’ve rung to ask?’

‘Yeah. Am I a selfish bastard? I’ve been looking at my life and some of the things I’ve done have astonished me. I don’t recognise myself. I’ve been repellent to Ruth. And I don’t just mean the Sarah thing, I mean I haven’t had any respect for her or listened to her or helped her. I don’t know what she’s doing with me.’

‘She loves you and you’re a fucking lucky bastard.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I’ve spent enough time with you two. You love her too.’ Christian heard Toby light a cigarette down the phone. ‘And you’re not a selfish bastard or a total dick. But you do sometimes seem to lack, what’s the word, maybe empathy. I have occasionally wondered if you’re slightly autistic.’

‘What?’

‘Look, don’t take this the wrong way. But Hal reminds me of you so much. Sometimes neither of you get the nuances of life. When we met in the pub just after Sarah had first got in contact with you again I knew you were going to end up seeing her and I also knew that you couldn’t see what was wrong with it.’

‘Yeah, but I do now.’

‘But I bet you said that to Ruth. I bet you kept on about how nothing happened as if that made it all right.’

‘Yeah, I did.’

‘And she flipped, right?’

‘Yeah. Look, I get it now, I really do.’

‘Okay. Well, if you want my advice, you have to keep telling her that. You have to make her believe that you get it this time, you’re not just saying what she wants to hear. She hasn’t kicked you out, right?’

‘Only because it’s Hal’s birthday. She wants me gone next week.’

‘D’you want me to call her?’

‘No, her parents are with her now anyway.’

‘Okay. Maybe I’ll be able to get a minute with her tomorrow. Go straight home after work and be your best self. It’s all you can do.’

‘Okay. Look, thanks, you’ve always been a really good friend, you . . . ’

Toby laughed. ‘Enough. You don’t need to butter me up. It’ll be okay. You and Ruth are made for each other, in some sick way.’

Agatha hadn’t needed to be left alone. Didn’t Ruth think that she’d have factored looking after Hal and Betty into her day’s plan? And now Ruth had gone and spoilt everything. Don’t expect us at any time, she’d said as they’d left, we might take the kids out for pizza or something. Why don’t you go out, don’t worry about us.

Don’t worry about us? Was the woman mad? Agatha’s whole body, every inch of her skin, crawled with imaginary insects when Hal was out with Ruth. She was so absent-minded Agatha could imagine her losing sight of him in the park or not holding his hand tightly enough when they crossed the road. It made her stomach lurch as though she was in a speeding car. Not to mention the added dangers of how Hal could give her away. Thankfully she hadn’t ever tried him on pizza so she was sure he’d refuse to eat it. But he might refer to her as mummy again or cry for her or just about anything.

Probably she had been wrong to stay for the party. Agatha allowed herself to think this as she scrubbed the downstairs loo for the second time that day. She had only done it for Hal but now she was wondering if it was a mean thing to do to him, if it would be the one memory she wouldn’t be able to erase, one which might guide him to the truth in years to come.

Agatha tried to test her theory by remembering her own birthdays. The problem was that she couldn’t always separate things that far back. She remembered stories and memories the same way. There were chaotic childhood scenes with cakes and balloons and mess and cheering and Harry, often Harry, somewhere in the background, but she couldn’t put an age on it. Nights out with friends, but where were they now? Had she really been taken to Monaco by a boyfriend as she’d told Laura that summer of the temp agency? Was the thin silver chain holding a miniature four-leafed clover hanging round her neck really a present from her dead grandmother?

Agatha felt hot. She stood up and avoided looking at herself in the mirror. She shook her head but the images wouldn’t come. Her mind felt jumbled and disordered. She needed Hal. She went to the kitchen, swallowed two Nurofen Plus and went to lie down in the little box room, putting the pillow over her head in an attempt to drown out the noise.

Sally called Ruth on the way to the park, which gave her a good excuse to hang back and not talk to her mother.

‘Sorry, Ruth,’ Sally said, ‘I know you’re not feeling good. What’s the matter, by the way?’

No one wanted to hear the answer to that question, so Ruth gave Sally what she needed. ‘Oh, it’s nothing. Just a headache I can’t shake.’

‘Okay. Listen, I want to put the issue to bed tonight but I’ve had a ridiculous call from Margo Lansford’s lawyer . . . ’

‘Her lawyer? Are you joking?’

‘I know, priceless, isn’t it? Anyway, he’s saying that she wants copy approval. Apparently the soap business is at a critical stage. I just wanted to check that you didn’t tell her she could see what you’d written before it went to press.’

‘Of course not. I can’t believe she got a lawyer to call. Her husband told Christian that the business doesn’t earn a penny and her dad’s loaded, he basically paid for the whole thing.’

‘What a surprise.’

‘To be honest, Sally, she was a complete fake. She’s one of those women who likes to make you feel bad by being fucking perfect. She gives the impression that she’s got it all, kids, husband, job, dream.’

‘What, you don’t think it’s true?’

‘No. Christian said her husband was pretty fucked up, he didn’t have many nice things to say about her.’

‘That’s not exactly reflected in your piece.’

Ruth was brought up short by Sally’s tone. ‘Well, no. I didn’t think that’s what you’d want. It’s not very
Viva
.’

When Sally spoke again she sounded normal. ‘No, of course not. You’re right. It’s fab, I loved it. I’ll call her stupid lawyer back and tell him to piss off.’

‘There’s nothing in there that will annoy her anyway.’ Both Ruth and Sally resisted the urge to take this thought any further forward.

‘No, I know, it’s a fuss over nothing.’

‘Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow I guess, for Hal’s party.’

‘Of course. What does he want by the way?’

‘God, I don’t know. He loves Thomas the Tank Engine, we’ve got him a Thomas train set.’

‘Does he still sit in that plastic house?’ Ruth was always surprised by how much other people remembered. ‘I was thinking of getting him a tea set or something to go in it.’

‘He’d love that. See you tomorrow.’

They had reached the park by the time Ruth hung up. ‘I could do with a cup of coffee,’ said Ruth’s mother. ‘Why don’t you boys go on to the playground and Ruth and I will get some take-aways from the café.’

‘Right you are,’ said her dad, pushing the buggy purposefully onwards. ‘Remember the sugar.’

Ruth felt she should protest, she could certainly see a set-up job when it was right in front of her nose, but something stopped her.

‘Was that work?’ asked her mother as they turned towards the café.

‘Yes, it’s a bad day to have off. It’s the end of the issue.’

‘You didn’t say you had a headache. I thought you’d taken the day off.’

‘It’s nothing.’

‘Is it going okay then, work?’

‘I suppose.’

Her mother sighed and Ruth knew she had failed to provide her with the correct level of enthusiasm which was always required.

‘If you don’t enjoy it, Ruth, why do you do it?’

‘I didn’t say I don’t enjoy it. And anyway, we have to pay the bills.’

‘There are always choices, you know. I’m sure you could survive on Christian’s salary.’

They had reached the café now, but they both seemed reluctant to go inside.

‘You’ve always disapproved of my working, haven’t you?’ said Ruth, not knowing why she was doing this. ‘You and Dad probably thought I should have given up like a good wife when I got married.’

‘Don’t be absurd, Ruth. I don’t give a rat’s arse whether or not you work. I don’t think there’s anything to be gained by staying at home and being miserable, I’m proud of what you’ve achieved. In fact, I wish I’d had a few more opportunities like that. But I want you to be happy. And you don’t seem happy. You’re a bag of bones, apart from anything else.’

Ruth had to make a decision in a split second. Ordinarily she would have denied this and stormed off into the café. But today was the day after the night before and she didn’t know how to lie that effectively. She sat down heavily on one of the wooden benches, allowing her mother to sit down next to her.

‘I feel a bit lost actually, Mum.’

‘Lost?’

‘I know you won’t understand. I bet you’ve never felt lost for one second. But some of us normal women find all of this quite hard, you know.’

Her mother paused for a moment, which in itself was unlike her. ‘Of course I understand. Do you know what the first thing I said to your father was when he came to see me right after I had you?’

‘No.’

‘I said that I thought we’d made a terrible mistake. But Dad just laughed and said, Well, we can’t put her back now, can we? It made me realise that I wasn’t going to be able to talk to him about anything.’

Ruth looked at her mother. She’d never heard her talk like this. She looked much softer. ‘What did you do?’