Page 60 of Love and Loathing

But he felt a flip in his heart, a crack of light in the gloom that he was trying not to look at too closely in case it burnt him. If he didn’t work here, if his hands were clean… Then she might… It might be possible to…

“I looked her up online, you know,” Liv said, laughing slightly to herself.Atherself. “It’s so embarrassing to admit. You made me jealous, Aub. Finally, after sixteen years, when I woke up to the fact there might be someone in the world who could steal Aubrey Ford away from me… I had to find out how she did it. Who she was, this woman who could compete with me.”

Aubrey paused, wary, not trusting a single word she said but unable to walk away when it was Evie being spoken of.

Liv tilted her head, studying him with a disbelieving sort of smile. “She’s not at all what I imagined. I thought it was just posturing—the veganism, the charity work. The typical socialite posing. A few social media snaps wearing a t-shirt for whatever cause is in fashion, a few prettily worded platitudes. But she’s actually the real deal.” Liv shook her head, amused, amazed. “Once I started digging, I found her everywhere. Video clips of her giving speeches at the student union. At protest marches. Her name published on letters for every cause imaginable. Photos of her saving turtles on tropical beaches, cleaning oil off birds, building schools in Africa. If there’s ever been a cause anywhere in the world, Evelyn Blackton’s been in the middle of it.”

She gave Aubrey another incredulous smile, eyes wide. “And do you know how I know it’s all real?”

“How?” he asked reluctantly.

“Because she’s stunningly beautiful, and yet she never posts a single photo of herself. She’s never posing. It’s all real.”

Aubrey said nothing. None of this was news to him. He was sure Liv had a point, but she only now began to come to it.

“It just makes me wonder…” she said.

“What?”

“You and her… How does it work? With so little in common?”

It doesn’t.

The thought came immediately, viciously, betraying him. Liv saw it in his eyes, her smile twisting, sensing victory.

“It makes no sense to me,” she continued. “Saint Evelyn andyou, Aubrey. Are you going to turn vegan? Get rid of the leather sofa you love so much? I remember when we bought it. You like it so much you held onto it after we broke up. All your lovely leather shoes, and the way you hated getting cat hairs on your clothes when we’d visit my parents. Your absolute hatred for spiders. I mean, you really dohatethe things. Do you kill them in front of her? Does she let you do it? Your favourite food is steak. Your favourite breakfast is poached eggs. We once went to France and spent a whole weekend doing little but eating cheese. When we weren’t in bed.” She laughed. “Coffee au lait. Can you imagine butterless croissants? Aubrey… What on earth do you have in common with this girl?”

He felt every stab just the way Liv had intended. Every word a cut, lacerating his faint hope, leaving it in tatters. He held it all inside him, refused to let Liv see the mess she had made.

“Mostly just sex,” he said, picking up his coat. “The sex is excellent.”

Liv laughed, his parrying cut glancing off her. She was impossible to hurt. She didn’t care enough.

“I’m sure it is, Aubrey. But that doesn’t make a relationship, does it? I know what you want, everything you dream of. Marriage. Children. You proposed to me when we were twenty. You’ve been dying to set up your little family forever. Do you really think she’s the one? She hates almost everything thatyou do, that you are, that you enjoy. You’re wasting your time, Aubrey. It’s a disaster waiting to happen. You have no future with that girl. No future at all.”

“And yet I’d still choose her over you.”

He left Liv standing there in his office—not his office anymore: his past love in his past life. He left BlacktonGold for the last time after ten years of working there. And he left without hope, Liv’s words ringing in his ears, a mere echo of what he already knew.

TWENTY-FIVE

It was only October,but the church hall was very cold, the electric heaters ancient and completely inefficient against a grey wet day. Evie’s shoes were still damp from when she’d cycled here hours ago, and her feet and hands were cold despite the fact she had been hurrying around ever since, carrying boxes and rushing to make up all the hygiene packs before the van left for Dover at six. Everything had to be in Calais by the morning; the refugees had already started arriving.

“We have no children’s toothpaste,” one of the volunteers said, grabbing Evie’s elbow as she passed. Evie was only a volunteer, too, but had somehow ended up in charge, arranging all the work stations to be more efficient, assigning each person one type of pack, one list of contents so they didn’t get muddled.

“How many packs have we made so far?”

“About three hundred.”

“No, there should be another box. Trish said we had enough for five. I’ll find it.”

She took her armload of wash cloths to where they were needed. Found a pen for the guy who had lost his for the third time. Dug out the toothpaste from under the same guy’s coat. Then pulled out her phone to check the time. Five fifteen. There was a message from Roscoe, too.

Sorry to cancel drinks. Stuck in office working on last-minute pitch. Still on for Sunday?

She answered yes, then got back to work, making up packs as fast as she could until her mind was full of nothing butWashcloth: One; Shower gel: One; Toothbrush: One…Tie the bag, tick it off, add it to the box.

The rain was even heavier at eight minutes past six when they finally slammed the doors of the van shut, a dozen volunteers watching it trundle out of the little carpark, all of them tired, all of them probably thinking what Evie was thinking: Will it help, really? When war comes to your country and you have to leave everything behind, does it help that a stranger in another country stood for hours in a hall putting toothpaste and soap in a clear plastic bag? At least they could brush their teeth. Each child’s pack contained a small toy. Evie watched the van leave, her heart going with it.

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