Page 58 of The Truth About You and Me
I wipe down the dust from my purple tights. ‘Fancy a cuppa before I go?’
‘That would be wonderful.’
‘So, how’s our Jack?’ she asks with a tone that is more than a gentle enquiry.
I fill the kettle as my stomach knots.
‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen him.’ I flick the switch and grip onto the counter.
‘And why is that?’ she asks.
I turn and lean back, dragging my eyes up to her.
‘It’s complicated.’
‘Pssssh. That word should be banned. Complicated just means there are lots of elements that need to be unpicked, so unpick them.’
I close my eyes briefly, remembering the way he’d looked at me, like I was one step away from being sectioned.
‘I’m not good for him, Riz.’
I replay the way his whole body had tensed when the truth landed. The look of betrayal and hurt that followed. I should have stopped seeing him after that first night. In the past, my ability has hurt me more than those around me. This time though, it cuts deeper. I deceived him at a time in his life where he needed stability. The way he looked at me, after everything we’ve shared… and I know that I’m asking a lot of him to believe me, but part of me… I hoped he’d be different, that he would at least try to understand.
‘Notgoodfor him? Maggie, I’ve seen the two of you together; you’re more than good for him.’
‘We don’t work. As a couple. It’s better this way. I will only cause him pain.’ I place the cup down next to her.
‘Of course you’ll cause him pain. That’s what love is: pain and joy and everything in between.’
‘You and your Rizdoms.’ I shake my head. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’
‘That would be lovely, but don’t you have better things to be doing than visiting me?’
‘Ilikevisiting you. Now, behave yourself and don’t get into any mischief.’
* * *
I push aside my thoughts about Jack. I’m about to tap the visitors’ pass to open the doors when my attention is drawn towards an elderly man, smartly dressed in a suit and waistcoat. He reminds me of an older Pierce Brosnan. He hesitates, turns and begins walking up along the corridor then turns again, a look of confusion there.
‘Hiya,’ I say, smiling.
‘Hello!’ he says brightly. ‘I… I…’ He looks up and down the corridor again then back to me. ‘I was going somewhere and…’
My heart breaks a little for this proud-looking man, who is clearly lost. I scan the corridor, but can’t see any staff. ‘Shall we go and find your room?’ I suggest. He brightens as I step towards him. ‘I don’t know about you, but I always get lost in this place, so many doors!’
‘Quite right. That would be… thank you, young lady. This way!’ he instructs. I walk beside him.
‘I’m Maggie.’
‘Derek Hill.’ He grins up at me. ‘Pleased to meet you.’ He puts out his hand; it’s unavoidable. I can’t try to explain to him that I can’t touch him and I don’t want to cause any more distress. I let my hand fall into his and recite the digits of pi. His thoughts are quiet, distant, his mind whirling as he looks to the long hall with doors on either side.
Which one. Which one.
‘So, Derek,’ I say, linking my arm through his. The action feels alien to me, but I don’t recoil because his thoughts are quiet, his emotions dampened. I stop reciting digits and let myself relax. ‘Tell me about your room. Did you get a sea view or can you see the hills…?’
I hear his thoughts as he tries to recollect: deep green walls, a painting of a ship, dark furniture. There are trees outside the window, no sea in the background, which must mean he’s on the other side of the building.
‘Oh, now there’s a question.’ He smiles up at me, giving me a wink. ‘Are you asking if you’d like to see my room, young lady?’
