‘It’ll be okay. I promise.’
‘I have to end it, don’t I?’ I nod. She reaches for her bag. ‘I’ll do it now …’
‘No! No, you mustn’t. He can’t know I’ve told you. He said if I told you he’d show Hugh those pictures. Anna, we have to be clever about this …’
‘How?’
I’m silent. I know what I want her to do. To wait for a while, to pretend to the man she calls Ryan that she’s still in love with him. And then to end it, in a way that seemingly has nothing to do with me.
Yet how can I ask her to do that? I can’t. The idea is monstrous. She has to realize it for herself.
‘I don’t know. But if you end it now he’ll know I had something to do with it.’
She’s incredulous. ‘You want me to carry on seeing him?’
‘Not exactly—’
‘You do!’
‘No, Anna. No … I don’t know …’
Her face collapses. All her defiance rushes out, replaced by bitterness and regret.
‘What am I going to do?’ She opens her eyes. ‘Tell me! What am I going to do?’
I reach out to her. I’m relieved when she doesn’t push me away. Sadness fills her face. She looks much older, nearer to my age than to Kate’s.
‘It’s up to you.’
‘I need to think about it. Give me a few days.’
I’ll have to live with the uncertainty. But next to what she has to live with, that’s nothing.
‘I wish this had never happened. I wish it could be different.’
‘I know,’ she says.
We sit for a while. I’m drained, without energy, and when I look at her I see she is, too. The station seems less crowded, though that might be my imagination; the lunchtime rush can hardly make any difference to somewhere so perpetually busy. Nevertheless, a quietness descends. Anna finishes her drink then says she has to leave. ‘There’ll be another train soon. I need to go and get a ticket …’
We stand. We grip our chairs for support, as if the world has tilted to a new axis. ‘Do you want me to help? I really don’t mind paying—’
‘No. It’s fine. I’m fine. You don’t have to do that.’
She smiles. She knows I feel guilty, that the offer of money is my attempt to assuage that guilt.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I say again. I desperately need to know I have her friendship, but for a long moment she doesn’t move. Then she’s melting into me. We hug. I think she’s going to start crying again, but she doesn’t.
‘I’ll call you. In a day or so?’
I nod. ‘You’ll be okay?’ I’m aware of how trite the question sounds, how meaningless, yet I’m exhausted. I just want her to know I care.
She nods. ‘Yes.’ Then she lets go. ‘Will you?’
‘Yes.’ I’m far from certain it’s the truth. She picks up her case. ‘Go. I’ll get this. And good luck.’
She kisses me again. Wordlessly, she turns to leave. I watch as she crosses the concourse, heads for the stairs that lead down to the ticket offices. She rounds the corner and goes out of sight. I feel suddenly, terribly, alone.
PART FIVE
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Monday. Hugh is due to have a meeting about his case today; he’ll find out whether his statement has satisfied the chief executive, the medical director, the clinical governance team. If it has, they’ll refute the claim; if not, they’ll concede that he made a mistake. ‘And then they’ll close ranks,’ he said. ‘It’ll all be about preserving the reputation of the hospital. I’ll probably be disciplined.’
‘But you won’t lose your job?’
‘Doubtful. But they’re saying I might.’
I couldn’t imagine it. His job is his life. If he were to lose it the repercussions would be catastrophic, and I’m not sure I’m strong enough to cope with something like that hitting our family. Not with everything else that’s going on.
Yet I’d have to, there wouldn’t be a choice. I clung to the word ‘doubtful’.
I have to be strong.
‘Are you all right?’ I said.
He took a deep breath, filling his lungs, tilting his head back. ‘I am. I have to be. I have to go into theatre this morning. I have to operate on a woman who’ll most likely be dead within weeks if nothing is done. And I have to do that with a clear head, no matter what else is going on.’ He shook his head. He looked angry. ‘That’s what really pisses me off. I haven’t done anything wrong. You know that? I forgot to warn them that for a few weeks their father might forget where he’d put the remote control. No’ – he corrected himself – ‘I didn’t even do that. I forgot to write down that I’d warned them. That’s what this amounts to. I was too busy worrying about the operation itself to write the details of some trivial conversation down in the notes.’
I smiled, sadly. ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine. You’ll call me?’
He said he would, but now the phone is ringing and it’s not him.
‘Anna?’
She’s hesitant. When she does speak she sounds distant, upset.
‘How’re you?’
‘Fine,’ I say. I want her to tell me what she’s decided. For two days I’ve been convincing myself that she’s reconsidered, or hasn’t believed me at all. I’ve imagined her talking to Lukas, telling him that I’d caught up with her at the station, recounting what I’d said.
I daren’t imagine what his next move would be then.
‘How are you feeling?’
She doesn’t answer. ‘I’ve been thinking. Ryan’s away for another week. He’s staying in London. I need a week after he gets back.’
I’m not sure what she means.
‘A week?’
‘I need to finish it with him. But I need to make him think it has nothing to do with you at all. I’ve already told him I haven’t seen you since the other night at the hotel, that you haven’t been in touch. I told him I thought you were a freak, and that I didn’t want anything else to do with you. When he comes back I’ll just have to be busy, I’ll pretend I’ve got a lot on at work or something. I can manage it for a week, I think.’
‘And then?’
‘Then I’ll end it.’
She sounds defiant. Absolutely certain.
‘I’ll get the pictures – the ones he’s got of you – and delete them from his computer. I’ll find a way, I have a key to his flat, it shouldn’t be too difficult. Then, even if he does suspect, it’ll be too late to do anything about it.’
I close my eyes. I’m so grateful, so relieved. It might work. It has to work.
‘You’ll be all right?’
She sighs. ‘Not really. But I suppose I kind of knew, really. There was always something about him, I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was. He’d always be travelling, at short notice. I should’ve known.’
I’m not sure I believe her. It sounds like justification after the fact.
She carries on. ‘Maybe when all this is over we can get together and go out for a drink. Not lose our friendship because of it.’
‘I want that, too,’ I say. ‘Will we stay in touch? Over the next couple of weeks, I mean?’
‘It wouldn’t be good if Ryan finds out we’re speaking.’
‘No.’
‘I’ll try and call you, when I can.’
‘Okay.’
‘You’ll have to trust me,’ she says.
We talk for a minute or so more, then she says goodbye. Before we end the call we agree to reconnect on Find Friends. Afterwards I sit for a moment as relief floods me, relief and fear, then I call Hugh. I’m not sure why. I want to hear his voice. I want to show that I support him, that I haven’t forgotten what he’s going through today. His secretary answers; he’s still in his meeting.
‘Will you ask him to call me when he gets out?’
She says she will. Almost on a whim I ask if I can speak to Maria. I want to know that Paddy’s okay, that he’s recovered.
I think of the steps. I’ve made my moral inventory now; without even being conscious of it, I’m working on making amends.