Page 50 of One Step Behind
‘Sorry,’ I whisper in his ear.
‘Maybe we should go to Christie’s if you’re sick,’ Beth says quietly, appearing in the doorway.
I try to laugh at Beth’s remark and ignore the question in my head that asks if she’s right. And now it’s not even eight in the morning and I already feel fraught, snappish. How am I going to get through the day?
‘Come on, let’s have breakfast and get ready for school. And yes, we are going on a bike ride later. We’ll go anywhere you like.’
‘Really?’ they both chime, like I’m offering them a two-week holiday to Disneyland. My own life has shrunk so much because of you, but I’ve never stopped to think how much smaller the children’s world has become.
I think the fresh air will do me good as we leave the house and walk to school, but I’m wrong. The day is so humid, not fresh at all. We’re not even at the end of the road before my t-shirt is clinging to my back.
There’s talk of a storm that will finish the heatwave, but the sky is still cyan blue, the sun blindingly bright. An end seems impossible.
Beth and Archie bounce down the road, side by side, jabbering to each other about which route they want to take for our bike ride later. I half listen and half look for you, a habit I can’t seem to break.
When we reach the school playground it’s already buzzing with the noise of adults chatting and laughing. Flashes of green uniform catch constantly in the corners of my vision as the smaller kids charge through the groups of parents and pushchairs.
Happy screams mingle with sad ones – a child with a grazed knee, a toddler who doesn’t want to sit in the pushchair and is bucking against the straps. I close myeyes for a second, trying to block it all out, but without my sight, my hearing intensifies until the screams are punching into my eardrums.
I force my eyes open and find Beth staring at me.
‘OK?’ I ask.
She nods. ‘Are you?’ The way she narrows her eyes is just like Stuart and I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry.
‘Of course. Just hot,’ I smile, fanning the air around my face.
‘Beth,’ a girl cries out from across the playground. Beth turns and shoots off towards a petite girl with silky blonde hair that I recognize from the party. Is she Lacey? I search the faces for Rachel.
The bell rattles at last, the screams die away, and order assembles in the playground. Even the toddler stops crying.
I say a hurried goodbye to Archie and Beth before pushing through the crowd to find Rachel. I knock against someone’s shoulder and hear a tut followed by a whispered comment. My eyes dart from one face to another as I offer an apologetic smile.
I normally hurry like this, squeezing through the other parents to get out of the gates first, but usually my mind is leaping ahead, thinking of work and the patients I will treat. I feel hollow when I think of the week ahead.
I still can’t believe someone I work with would speak to Nancy about me behind my back. Was it one person? Or two or three? Was I making mistakes? Was someone covering for me and I didn’t know? I can’t believe that’s true. I was tired, sure, but I was focused too. Working was the only time I could escape thoughts of you.
At the roadside, I pretend to check something on my phone while watching for Rachel. I wish I’d spent more time studying the photos on your phone now. I try to remember the details of the photos, the sports kit she was wearing in one of them and the street she was on with the trees and cars and people in the background.
I spot Rachel in a group of five women. Their heads are bent close as they talk to each other. Christie is among them. As I approach the group, Rachel slides on a pair of sunglasses and starts walking in the opposite direction.
I call out to her, hurrying to close the gap between us. She glances around, a smile already on her face. When she sees me it falters. I guess I didn’t make a great impression at the party.
‘Hi,’ I say. ‘Sorry to grab you like this, but have you got a minute?’
She looks at her watch – a sleek, rose-gold Fitbit that matches the colour of her gym vest. ‘Sure. I’ve got a fitness class in ten minutes though.’
‘No problem. I can walk with you.’
There’s a brief pause when her head tilts to one side as if she’s assessing me. I wish I could see her eyes behind her sunglasses. ‘Sure.’
We fall into step together and move away from the parked cars and other parents. Her strides are long and quick and I feel myself hurrying to keep up.
‘What’s up?’ Rachel glances my way and when I look at her, it’s my own drawn face that reflects back from her sunglasses.
I take a deep breath. ‘Thanks again for driving the kids home from the party on Saturday.’
‘It’s totally fine. Honestly, don’t even think about it.’ She flashes me a smile of bright-white teeth.
