Page 7 of The Lucky Escape

‘But this is his house,’ I countered. ‘Shouldn’t it be my things we box up?’

Mum didn’t say anything. The plan had been that after the wedding I’d go on the mortgage paperwork. After the wedding, I would have my security. For two years I’d paid Alexander for half of everything, but legally we hadn’t added my name yet. I’d basically been his lodger. But I’d had no reason to think that was a risk. I had a ring on my finger! I could never have imagined I’d end up in this situation! Mum’s silence spoke volumes. Her silence said: how could you have been so stupid, Annie?

It might have been getting cooler outside but it was warm in the kitchen. I pulled the blanket off my back and let it fall to the floor. The pain in my head was constant. Where was I going to live? Moving would have been like trying to collect fireflies in a jar with no lid right now – impossible. Surely Alexander would let me stay for a while, until I knew whatto do next. Surely he wouldn’t be so cruel as to kick me out onto the street. I wanted somebody else to tell me what to do. But I also I wished I could be home alone. I wished Mum and Dad knew to take Freddie back to their house, ready to start back at school, so I could be miserable and lonely and uncertain in peace.

‘Ilikethe smell of the Flash,’ I said, finally. ‘Don’t criticize my cleaning products.’

She looked up, throwing her hands up in the air. ‘I give up,’ she moaned, to no one. ‘I truly do. It’s like I’m a ghost nobody can hear. Honestly!’

The sound of the front door caused Freddie and Carol to lift their heads, simultaneously curious. The scent of Indian food wafted down the hall, and they both leapt up when they realized dinner had arrived.

‘Grub’s up!’ Dad trilled. Freddie made a noise, exciting the dog, and Dad blew a kiss over at her as he lifted the food onto the kitchen island. ‘Can’t mend a broken heart without some sustenance,’ he whispered to me, setting several bags down and leaning over to kiss my forehead. I forced a grin to communicate that I was grateful for him breaking up the tension. ‘Judy,’ he carried on. ‘Did you warm the plates?’

‘Thanks, Dad,’ I croaked, but I wouldn’t eat any of it. I could barely keep down water, or tea. Even the smell was making me queasy.

‘Give me half a second, Peter,’ Mum said, right as Dad accused me of not having brushed my teeth today.

‘I just got up,’ I said, wearily.

‘It’s already 5 p.m. …’

‘What’s your point?’ I asked.

I could see Mum furiously shaking her head from the other side of the kitchen, warning Dad not to push me toofar. The way she did it made it obvious I was supposed to see, her way of acknowledging I was ‘in a mood’.

‘No, no point,’ Dad said, changing tack. ‘I was just saying, it’s 5 p.m.! Where does the time go!’

My mother nodded in approval at his seamless change of diplomacy.

‘The plates, Peter,’ she said to him, setting them down next to the forks she’d left out.

‘Did you get pickles?’ Freddie asked, pulling things out of the brown paper bags and discarding them on the counter. ‘I can’t find them.’

Dad busied himself in the search for Freddie’s poppadum accompaniments as Mum started to repeat to him what she’d just said to me, almost word for word.

‘I spoke to Fernanda,finally,’ she started, and Freddie drolly rolled her eyes in my direction.

Everyone tucked into their food.

‘She’s as baffled as anyone, Peter – and mortified. I said to Annie, I can understand that, really, because honest to God if the shoe was on the other foot and Annie had skipped out with everyone there, I don’t think I could show my face again. I’d be devastated, owning a child who’d be so reckless …’

Freddie stacked the dishwasher once we’d eaten – or rather, once they’d eaten. I’d pushed some saffron rice around my plate and barely nibbled on the corner of a Peshwari naan.

‘I’m going to take a nap,’ I said. ‘Will you tell Adzo to come straight up when she gets here?’

I couldn’t stop thinking about where I was supposed to live. I’d never known adult life without Alexander. Why was this happening? What was I going to do? The grief came in great crashing waves, threatening to pull me under.

I closed my eyes to gather myself.

‘Oh, darling,’ Mum said, her voice full of something alarmingly close to sympathy. ‘Shall I chill some spoons for you? It’s supposed to help with eye puffiness.’

Like I gave a rat’s arse about my eyes. Every bone ached. Being awake for more than an hour was a Herculean effort. I’d failed at the one thing that was supposed to make me an adult – marriage.

‘Sure,’ I replied, ducking out of a fight. ‘Chilled spoons sound great. Thanks Mum.’

She sighed. ‘I’m just trying to help, Annie. I don’t know what else to do.’

‘I know, Mum,’ I whispered over my shoulder, shuffling back up to bed. ‘Nobody does.’

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