When Tom’s hung up, he says to me, ‘I’ve got an auction at midday. Can you call Edward and ask for his help arranging flights and hotels?’
I nod.
‘What about vaccinations?’ Nick asks Tom.
‘I should be covered – I was in Thailand, year before last.’
‘I’m not,’ I say.
Tom stares at me, his light eyes brightening.
‘You’re not thinking-’ Nick stops abruptly.
Silence sings in the air.
‘Yes,’ I say to him, ‘of course.’
His face flushes.
‘I know you and I can’t both go,’ I say to Nick, ‘with the boys…’
‘But if Tom can…’ Nick says.
Tom busies himself, putting his laptop away.
We wait until he’s gone, the atmosphere thick with tension. Then I say to Nick, ‘I can’t stay here – it’s driving me mad.’
‘But you expect me to?’
‘Nick-’
‘You just do what you like, don’t you? You don’t even bother consulting me.’
‘It’s not what I like,’ I shout. ‘There’s nothing to like about it. For fuck’s sake…’
‘Maybe I should go. You’ve got work, the boys-’ Nick says.
‘You and Tom? That’s going to work really well,’ I say.
His face darkens. ‘I don’t have a problem with it. If he does-’
‘I’m going. I just think it’s best.’
‘We don’t even get to discuss it,’ he says. ‘I’m her parent too.’
I don’t reply. I walk round the table to get the phone.
‘Isn’t it a bit premature?’ he says.
‘I don’t know,’ I say, ‘a week, a month, a year. I don’t know. How can we possibly know if we’re being premature, or if it’s too late?’ The words are loud, raw and dirty. ‘Oh, God, I don’t mean that,’ I say quickly. ‘I don’t even think that. Oh, God, I don’t. But I can’t wait any more. At least we’ll be doing everything we can.’ My mouth is dry and I feel shaky. I fetch myself some water. As I drink it, Nick sits at the table, which is strewn with notes and copies of the press-release flier and typed lists of who has said what to whom. He tidies the papers into piles.
‘I have to go,’ I say.
There’s a pause. Then, ‘OK,’ he says quietly.
‘I’d better ring Edward,’ I say. Nick catches my wrist. He gets up and puts his arms around me. I’d like to let go, to weep in his embrace, but I don’t because I need to stay in control: I need to walk and talk and get things done. I rest my eyes a moment and breathe steadily until the danger is past. Then I make the phone call. The prospect of going to find her gives me something to cling to, like a guide rail to help me on a swaying bridge over a bottomless gorge.
