‘She did. But that’s Olivia for you, isn’t it? Nothing ever goes one way with her. Even in London she completely dominates his life. He has to phone every day, come home every other weekend. And there’s barely a weekend in between when she’s not down there. He’s not allowed to see anyone else when she goes down. He has to devote his time to her. And if he doesn’t ring there are tears, threats – the whole works, turning on the guilt. If she thought he was going out with anyone . . . well, it’s almost unthinkable. I think he almost believes she can see into his mind. That if he was seeing anyone, she’d know, somehow.’
Anna listened, feeling forgiveness for Krish before Jake had even finished speaking. ‘I can’t imagine how he’s coped this long,’ she said. ‘She’s so terrible . . .’ Her voice trailed off. ‘But she does make you love her, doesn’t she?’
‘Better not to, I think.’
‘She let Krish come and work for you. She must trust you.’
‘I think I was partly to distract him from other things at the time. But we get on all right, me and Olivia. She knows I’m not going to be drawn into anything. She trusts me with Krish – like a sort of old uncle figure.’ He shrugged, then looked at her seriously. ‘And you know her because she was your mother’s best friend who tried to do away with her baby?’
Anna shook her head. ‘Sounds terrible, doesn’t it? But it was my fairy story when I was little. “Tell me about you and Olivia when you were little girls.” Bosom pals, complete devotion and all that. The stuff she left me to read telling me the truth about what happened was awful. She’d bring out all the good bits for me when I was a child. It was like – some mothers keep their jewellery box as a special thing to show their kids. All the shiny things inside. But with her it was Olivia.’ She was crying suddenly, sobbing until she could barely catch her breath.
Jake got up, flustered, knelt down by her chair.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, trying to gain control of herself. ‘This keeps happening.’
‘No, it’s OK. Don’t apologize.’ He went to the kitchen end and came back with some squares of kitchen roll. ‘Here – ’fraid I only have tissues in when I get a cold.’
Anna laughed, blowing her nose.
‘I’ll make more coffee – that’s if you want? Or would you rather get some sleep?’
‘No.’ She handed him the mug. ‘I’d like to tell you about it.’
He turned and touched her briefly on the shoulder. She felt the warmth of his hand through her shirt. ‘No one should be alone with Olivia.’
She talked for an hour or more, telling him everything she could remember, trying, as Kate had done, to weave Olivia’s account of herself into Kate’s own. She told him about Angus, about her father, and Roland, trying to keep everything in the right order. When she reached the parts about Olivia’s baby and Arden, she saw a look of shocked understanding on Jake’s face.
‘Does Krish know any of this?’ she asked.
‘I’m quite sure he doesn’t.’ Jake paused, trying to take it all in. ‘I had no idea. Poor Olivia.’
‘Yes, poor Olivia. But then you think what she did to my mother. I think Mom thought it was partly her own fault for bringing her to live in the house when I was on the way. At the time she didn’t see what else she could do. But there was this huge splinter of sadness through her life. Looking back, I can recognize it more clearly. When you’re young you don’t always spot things, or know what you’re seeing. I tried to ask Olivia about it tonight – about Angus. I was getting tired of all that sweet sugary crap between her and Krish. She just blanked me out. Gave me that evil eye look of hers and said she had no idea what I was talking about.
‘In a way I don’t know why it matters now anyway. Except that I think Mom wanted me to find out, to deal with it for her. I can’t help thinking Olivia was lying, that he wouldn’t have been disloyal to my mother, but they were strange times . . .’
‘You may never get the truth now, anyway,’ Jake said. ‘Truth with Olivia is something that shifts around. What she wants is power over people. She knows she’s got power over you because you want to know things, because you care about her. You see what she’s done to Sean and Ben – let alone Krish. Don’t let her get under your skin. It never leads to anything good.’
‘Ben as well?’
‘Ben’s not in anything like the mess Sean is. He’s very unsure of himself academically and he confides in her a lot. There’s no doubt she’s bright. She’s supposed to be pretty well thought of for her knowledge of Bengali culture. She’s very preoccupied with it because of Krish’s father.’
‘She even tries to sound Indian.’
Jake looked at the ceiling, exasperated. ‘The whole thing, yes.’
Anna sat back in the chair, legs stretched out. Her head was beginning to ache.
‘You all right?’
‘Just tired. I don’t think I can think about this any more tonight.’
‘But you will see Krish?’
She hesitated. ‘OK.’
‘We could take him out somewhere. Get him away from there.’
‘She won’t want him going with me.’
‘I’ll think of something.’
Anna groaned. ‘It’s so late. I’m sorry. I must go.’
‘Don’t,’ Jake said. ‘There’s no need and there’s not that much of the night left – it’s after three. Just sleep here. I’ve got a folding bed I use for Elly. I’ll have that.’
She looked at him doubtfully, wondering for a few seconds what this meant. The thought of driving back now was so dismal. ‘Are you sure?’
Eyes full of warmth, he said, ‘Of course. No problem at all.’
‘My stuff’s down in the car . . .’
‘Give me the key. I’ll get it.’
When he came back, Jake tactfully left to give her time to undress in this strange room, his pictures watching her from the wall. But she felt trusting, almost happy. By the time he came back she was already lying down.
He had changed into an old pair of shorts and a shirt. She looked at the firm lines of his legs, his arms. He pulled the folding bed open, settling it in line with her bed, tucking a sheet round its long mattress. She took in his slenderness compared with Richard’s compact body.
He looked at her across the space between the two beds. ‘Have a good sleep.’ And reached over and clicked the light off.
‘Jake,’ she said drowsily. ‘I wanted to ask you more about yourself. I’m sorry. I’ve been talking so much.’
‘That’s OK. There’s not an awful lot to say about me.’
‘I’m sure there is . . .’ She felt her voice trailing off, sleep slipping over her in thick layers.
It must have been only moments later, but felt much longer. It began with a light pressure on her head, a stroking, soft as cobwebs in her hair, but then it was hard and she was in the dream and there was the terrible pressure, pushing, pushing so she couldn’t move, and she felt her breath being forced out of her until she threw herself upright, whimpering like a tiny child, sweat breaking out under her arms and behind her knees.
‘Sorry,’ she heard Jake saying. ‘God, I’m so sorry. Anna – it’s OK. It’s only me. I’m sorry.’
There was a click and the room sprang up round them again in the light. She squinted, bewildered, into Jake’s face. He was sitting on the bed beside her, eyes wide with worry.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said again.
‘Why?’ She was dazed, couldn’t think straight. ‘I was dreaming. When I was little I sometimes used to dream I was being suffocated – pushed down and down. It’s come back again since – since Mom died.’ She remembered waking, as a child, out of the tight hold of the dream, gasping, with Kate’s arms round her and her voice, ‘It’s all right, you’re safe now. Quite safe with me.’
Jake was saying, ‘It’s just – I think it was my fault. I touched you. I was stroking your hair.’
‘Were you?’ She looked at him stupidly. ‘Why?’
‘Because . . . I don’t know. I suppose I wanted to do something for you. I thought you were asleep. Sorry. I feel ridiculous.’
‘No – don’t.’ She was moved by his care, felt a great need for it rise in her. ‘You were being kind.’ She looked up into his eyes. ‘If I’d been awake I’d have liked it. I feel so lonely.’
He moved closer to her, put an arm round her and pulled her to him, so her head was resting against his chest. She heard his voice quietly, ‘Me too.’ He stroked her hair again, gentle as a parent, and she held his other hand and listened to the beating of his heart. After a time both of them slept, comforted.
Birds, she thought, when she woke the next morning. Even before opening her eyes she knew she was somewhere new. The light was different, coming from high on her right, bright, no curtains.
The window had been opened above the bed, and moving air touched her face.
‘Birds,’ she said.
‘Not the dawn chorus, though.’ Jake came across, offering her a mug. ‘Tea all right?’
She sat up, gratefully, trying to smooth her hair down. ‘Oh, I need this. What’s the time then?’ He was already dressed.
‘ ’Bout half-nine. I’ve just been down to open up. Sleep OK?’
‘Fine – thanks.’ She felt herself blushing. She last remembered falling asleep leaning against him, and vaguely recalled him moving her, lying her down again. She thought of his touching her hair, of this area of need and intimacy which had opened up between them. She looked up and smiled shyly at him.
He sat down at the far end of the bed. ‘Considering how little sleep we had last night, I don’t feel too bad.’
‘Nor me,’ she said, though she did feel muzzy. Silently she sipped the tea, strong, with a tang of something, Earl Grey perhaps. A bee flew in through the window, bumped its way a short distance along the wall and back, then found the white air again and disappeared.
‘Thanks for letting me stay.’
‘No problem.’ He smiled, face transforming. ‘I was enjoying the novelty of having someone else around.’
She could tell neither of them was going to mention last night, now daylight had come, both embarrassed or afraid.
‘How often does Elly stay?’
‘Every other weekend usually. Unless that upsets some other arrangement her mother has made.’
Anna nodded. Jake obviously found the situation difficult to talk about and she didn’t want to push it.
‘What were you doing before this – before the business, I mean?’
‘I told you – selling insurance.’
‘What? Really?’
‘Did you think I was joking?’ He gave a reluctant laugh. ‘I was training to be the man from the Pru. Nice safe job, suit, haircut, the lot. Life mapped out nicely.’
‘And you couldn’t stick it?’
His eyes moved sharply to her face, expression wary suddenly. ‘You sound like Sal. Why? D’you think I should have done?’
‘No!’ she said, alarmed. ‘Of course not. And anyway – it’s none of my business, is it?’
‘It’s absolutely terrifying having your life stretching ahead of you like that, doing something you’re indifferent to for the next thirty years. And I was doing OK at it. Personable, they called me. I was good at sales, always got on well with clients. But I got to thirty and I just couldn’t do it any more. I was suffocating.’
‘This seems much more you,’ she said cautiously.
‘I gave up work with the Pru when Sal was pregnant with Elly.’ Jake talked in a steady voice, eyes fixed on the floor in front of him. He talked about it as if it was something he just wanted over, needing to be told but best out of the way. Anna listened, the empty mug cradled against her chest.
‘It seemed to rock the foundations of something for Sal. Some insecurity or expectation she had that neither of us had known about. My fault, I suppose. Not a good time when she was pregnant and wasn’t sure how it was going to go with her own job. She works in admin over at the Poly. And I suppose she thought she was settling down with one sort of person and I turned out – in her eyes at least – to be someone very different. The business wasn’t too good at first either, of course. So things were already wobbly. Then Elly was born and everything changed again.’ He paused. ‘I don’t know. Too many changes all at once. We could never seem to reach each other after that. Even now it’s not easy, having to keep seeing each other because of Elly. There’s a lot of resentment. But we do it for her . . . I could never not see her.’
‘It must be so difficult,’ Anna said, feeling inane. Her mind flashed to Richard, to the miscarriage. What if she had had the baby? For the first time she was half glad. It would not have been right to have a child together.
Jake looked round and gave her a wry smile. ‘Let’s get off all that. Breakfast? It’s toast or toast, I’m afraid.’
‘In that case I’d like toast.’
She pulled her jeans on and quickly manoeuvred her way into the rest of her clothes as Jake sliced bread and clicked down the toaster.
‘Shouldn’t you be down in the shop?’
‘There’s a bell – rings up here too if anyone comes in. But yes, I should really. I’ll just get this down me. I don’t usually do a roaring trade at this time in the morning.’
They were eating thick, slightly singed slices of toast and honey when Anna suddenly exclaimed, ‘Oh, no. What’s the time?’
‘Nearly half-ten. What’s the matter?’
‘Roland. I promised I’d see him this morning.’ She was flustered, driven to action, flapping round the room, toast still in one hand. ‘Anyway, I must go and let you get on.’ She shoved her things into her bag with her spare hand. ‘Listen, thanks ever so much.’
Jake stood up. ‘No thanks needed. It’s been a pleasure.’
‘What about tonight – Krish?’
‘Fancy a
balti
?’
‘Love one.’
‘I’ll pick you up if you like. Seven-thirty?’
She gave him the address, then hesitated. Jake looked down into her eyes. There was a moment of awkwardness, of not knowing how to part.
Anna went to the stairs taking refuge in the need to hurry. ‘Bye then. See you later.’
In the street she lit her first cigarette of the day, thinking that by now she would normally have had a couple already.
The growling of Jake’s Transit van sounded incongruous in the suburban street. She climbed up into the cab, slim in jeans and a round-necked navy top which followed every curve of her.
Jake gave her a broad smile. ‘You ready for this?’