‘OK. Thank you, Lucy, for calling in, and thank you, Anna, so much, for joining me today.’ Lydia’s voice is all smiles.
‘Thank you, Lydia.’ Anna sounds a bit lost, distracted, like she’s forgotten the final few points she really wanted to hammer home, but Lydia’s already moved on.
‘Well, I think, listeners, we can all agree this is a very fiery start to our programme today. As ever, comments welcome, so please do text or leave us a message on our socials at I Heart …’
Rosie clicks the radio off and settles back into her chair. Almost immediately her phone starts ringing. It’s Anna. She must have just got out of the recording room, Rosie her first thought. Rosie rejects her call. She can’t listen to her apologies, her justifications.
Seb’s laptop bag is still on the kitchen floor where he’d forgotten it earlier. She’s made her decision before she’s even stood up from her chair and pulled the computer out of the bag. Suddenly, where she once felt anger and repulsion at what Seb has done, she feels a great aching loneliness. She still has no idea what the future holds for them, whether she’ll be able to look at him without seeing Abi twisted around him, without seeing the empty eyes of all those naked women, but she does know, in the same way she knows she loves her children, that Seb is not a danger to anyone. She opens up the laptop and follows the steps to delete the search history. Her finger hovers for just a moment above the return key and as she presses the button she feels a great rush of warmth. It’s unusual and she’s not exactly sure where it comes from, but as she closes the laptop, she realizes that the feeling isn’t for Seb or even for the kids; the warmth is from Rosie to Rosie. A small gift of appreciation for listening at last to what she knows to be true.
Her phone buzzes on the table. Anna is calling her again. This time, too, she rejects her call; she doesn’t want to talk to Anna. She picks up her keys, feeling strangely energized as she ignores the third call from Anna, and walks out of her home to find the other person she should have been listening to all along.
Chapter 18
Abi doesn’t answer her door immediately. The intercom for the flat is old and there’s no video so she doesn’t know who is ringing. Best-case scenario: it’s Diego, apron still on, and he has run straight over from the restaurant after reading the desperate text she sent him just a few minutes ago. Worst-case scenario: it’s Lotte, Anna and a band of furious women who have figured out it must be Abi. Lotte will fire her on the spot and Anna will tell her that Lily and Margot are being told their mum has lied to them all their lives, that their mum was a whore.
She’s been through worse, Abi tells herself fiercely, remembering the man who put his hairy hand around her neck, his weight pinning her, his red face above, spittle flying. That had been bad, but at least her home wasn’t under siege, at least her kids were well away.
Whoever it is outside, they’re not going away.
Her phone lights up with a message:
It’s Rosie, Abi.
They haven’t spoken since Rosie kicked Abi out of her car.
Please, I just want to talk to you.
She could hide, of course, pretend she’s not home, but hiding has never in her experience made anything better. She walks slowly down the stairs and opens the front door. It’s stopped raining but the air is rich with the smell of wet, slowly decaying leaves.
Rosie’s standing on her doorstep, looking nervous. ‘Can I come in?’
Abi opens the door a little wider. Rosie has to bend low to clear the fake cobwebs the girls have laced across the door and Abi gestures. ‘The kitchen’s straight ahead.’
They turn to face each other in the tiny kitchen. Something has shifted in Rosie because she’s not looking at Abi with revulsion or pity. She’s not looking at her like Abi’s mum did, when she found out. Rosie’s eyes are gentle, softer than Abi’s seen them before.
‘You heard the radio show?’ Rosie asks, her voice steady.
Abi nods, looks to the ceiling briefly. ‘Thank God for Lucy, hey?’
Rosie nods, breathes out. ‘I’m sorry, Abi.’
Abi’s first thought is that this is a sick joke, that Anna and the red-faced pitchfork crew are about to burst through the door, but Rosie is looking at her so steadily, her voice calm. ‘I’m sorry about everything. I’m sorry you haven’t got the change you wanted for your family, the chance you deserved. I’m sorry I didn’t try and understand, and I’m sorry people like Anna … well, I’m sorry about Anna.’
Abi holds on to the side of the kitchen countertop, presses her fingernails into the cheap surface, but it doesn’t stop her eyes filling with tears. She clears her throat to try to keep the aching in her heart out of her voice as she says, ‘They’ll be trying to figure out who it is Anna was talking about and I don’t think it’ll take someone like Vita long before my name is mentioned …’
Rosie reaches forward, like she wants to touch Abi, but decides not to. Clasping her hand around her own upper arm, she hugs herself instead. She doesn’t say anything, just nods.
‘I’m going to tell Lily the truth.’ She says the words quickly, so she can’t change her mind. Rosie opens her mouth to say something but, whatever it is, Abi doesn’t want to hear. She holds her hand up to stop Rosie because there’s no other choice. The only thing worse than the prospect of telling her daughter is the thought of Lily finding out some other way.
‘I told Mrs Greene that Lily’s got a last-minute appointment this afternoon and with everything happening at the school today I don’t think anyone will mind if she comes home early. She’ll be back soon.’
‘How are you going—’
Abi cuts her off. ‘I have absolutely no idea.’
Abi’s not lying – she has no idea how she’s going to tell her daughter that she’s accepted money from hundreds of men in exchange for sex – but she doesn’t tell Rosie that she’s thought about it every day since Lily was a baby. That she’s started thousands of conversations in her head, conversations that were hard enough to start but almost impossible to end.
Rosie’s watching her; she looks sad, but she could just be relieved that at least her situation isn’t as bad as Abi’s, that she doesn’t have to confess a lifetime of lying to her child.
‘When we met last time, in my car. There was something you were going to say, something about not being a threat to our marriage. I wasn’t ready to hear it then, but I am now. Will you tell me?’
Abi looks away. God, she’s so tired of being everyone’s plaything. But Rosie didn’t ask for any of this, any more than Abi. ‘I was going to tell you that I think Seb came to see me because he wants to stay married. He needed some affection, and I think he chose to get it in what he thought would be the least messy way possible. It doesn’t, of course, make him Husband of the Year, but at least you know I don’t have any feelings for him, and I never will. Just like he doesn’t have any feelings for me and never will. We never flirted or thought about running away together. It was an exchange. It was that simple.’
Opposite her, Rosie swallows and nods.
They’re quiet again for a moment before Rosie says, ‘I think Lily will, in time, come to understand all this. I think she’ll understand you have nothing to be ashamed of.’
Which makes Abi laugh even as her tears keep rolling because what the fuck does Rosie think she can teach Abi about shame? But Rosie is shaking her head and saying, ‘No, I mean it. I’ve seen you with your girls, seen the way you listen to each other, the connection you have with them. You’re an incredible parent. Honestly, when my kids are teenagers, I’d love to have the kind of relationship that you have with Lily.’