Page 31 of Is She Really Going Out with Him?
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When I gethome, it’s five in the morning. I find Lottie asleep on the pullout on Ethan’s floor. He must have had a bad dream. I can’t believe I left my pregnant sister to deal with my children while I was out taking drugs and getting tattoos. Finding a blanket, I lay it over Lottie, watching her for a moment. She has all this ahead of her, becoming a mother, the recalibration of her identity, her marriage. She has always been such an idealist when it comes to love, and as I tuck the blanket over her, I make a silent prayer:I hope you never lose that.
Walking back across the landing to my bedroom, I stand in the doorway and stare at the king-sized bed I shared with Dan for over a decade. His side of the bed is empty, but with Lottie having slept in it, it looks as though he just left. Will this house always be haunted by him? All I want to do is fall into bed, but now I’m seized by an urge to rearrange the furniture. I move Dan’s bedside table, making way to shift the bed out of the middle of the room and up against the window, covering the ghost of the coffee stain on the carpet. It’s a small change, but when I lie in the middle of the bed, looking up through the dormer window from a different angle, it feels significant.
Google searches:
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Cheap and painless tattoo removal
How long do effects of marijuana last?
Chapter 11
“Anna, I need to go.Jesus, you smell terrible. Have a shower before Dan gets here, won’t you?” Lottie’s voice wakes me up.
“Dan’s here?” I come to asking, wondering why everything in the room is in the wrong place.
“Not yet. He’s coming to walk the kids to school. You said you had a work trip?”
“Work trip?”Shit. Will Havers is coming here, and so is Dan. No, no, no.
“Good night, was it?” Lottie says, grinning at me.
“Sorry I got in so late. What happened with Ethan?”
“He had a bad dream, so I suggested a sleepover. Don’t apologize. I’m glad you went out, tell me all about it later, now I have to run, I have a client meeting.” Lottie kisses me on the head just as Ethan comes in to tell me he can’t find his PE kit, quickly followed by Jess, who says she’s lost her violin music and then blames Ethan for moving it. I have a thumping headache, an acrid taste in my mouth, an urgent thirst, and a looming sense of remorse.
No time to shower or drink water. I look for violin music, throw PE kit in the dryer, start to make a packed lunch for Ethan,realize there’s no bread, try to make a lunch out of crackers and an apple, remember Ethan has gone off apples, adjudicate a fight over who has control of the music system, find a plaster to hide my tattoo—I can’t have that conversation right now—and answer a flurry of questions from Jess about where I was last night. I mumble, “Caleb called, he was lovely but too young. Um, four out of six.”
“There’s no milk,” Jess groans, picking up her phone from the sideboard.
“Jess, do you need to be on your phone over breakfast?” I ask.
“Everyone shares homework over WhatsApp, I’m checking what I need to hand in today!” she says, staring at me with unblinking eyes, as though this was the stupidest question imaginable.
“Why are you wearing that plaster?” Ethan asks.
“Just a graze,” I tell him, pulling down my sleeve. The doorbell rings; saved by the bell. This is why I shouldn’t drink. The prospect of talking to Dan about logistics with a brain that feels like spaghetti, especially now that he’s all smug and teetotal, is too much. But when I open the front door, it isn’t Dan, it’s Will. He’s standing on my doorstep, hands in his pockets, a huge smile on his fresh, well-rested, irritatingly perfect face.
“Morning!” he says, his voice chiming like the opening bars of a Christmas tune.
“I’m not ready,” I say with a frown. His eyes dart down, then he blinks rapidly before averting his gaze. It’s only then that I realize what I’m wearing; short gym shorts and an oversized tee that has been washed so many times it’s almost see-through.
“Don’t worry, I’m early,” he says, no apology. I can hardly leave him waiting on the doorstep, but the last thing I want to do is invite him into my home, to witness firsthand the chaos of my existence.
“I just need to get my kids to school…” I pause, then addwith a heavy sigh, “Do you want to come in?” I hope he will take the sigh as a hint and offer to wait in the car, but he doesn’t. He takes off his long camel coat, hangs it on a hall peg, then strides past me into the kitchen.
“Jess, Ethan, this is my colleague Will,” I explain, grabbing a cardigan and pulling it on over my skimpy outfit. The children both stare at Will as though they’ve never seen an adult human male before.
“Hi?” Will says, raising his hand in a wave. “Sorry to intrude on breakfast.”
Jess looks back and forth between Will and me. I know what she’s thinking, she’s thinking,Why didn’t you tell us about this hot Ken doll you work with?, and I try to communicate with my eyes, “He might look pretty but he’s a pain in the arse.” It’s a lot of nuance for a look.
“Mum’s hungover,” Jess tells Will.
“Jess, I am not hungover,” I say sharply. “I am just insufficiently rested.”
