Lisa Hall - Between You and Me

‘OK, sod it. Let’s do it. Beach, here we come!’ I grin as Laura squeals and bursts out laughing, making me laugh in the process.

‘Excellent! Give me an hour. I have to go and shower and make myself beautiful. I’ll knock when I’m ready.’

Sure enough, an hour later Laura is tapping at the front door, a huge bag slung over her shoulder, Fred crooked in one arm and Lucy bouncing around by her feet. Maggie runs out the front door and squeezes Lucy in a bear hug.

‘We’re going to the beach , Lucy! And there’s going to be chips and ice cream and we can make a sandcastle and go paddling and …’ Fizzing with excitement, Maggie pauses to take a breath to carry on her epic speech.

‘OK, Mags, we get it. Let’s go. The sooner we leave, the sooner we arrive!’ I scoop her up and carry her to the car, where I buckle her in before helping Laura pack her huge bag into the boot. Seeing Maggie this excited about a trip to the beach makes me feel hideously guilty for keeping her at home all week, even though I don’t feel as though I had any other option. I am angry with myself for being so weak and pliable when it comes to you and your demands, ashamed of myself for bending to your will in exchange for a quiet life. A sweep of anger washes over me towards you, for making me feel I can’t do things like this with Maggie all the time, for making me fear the outcome of a trip somewhere nice, all because of your uncontrollable jealousy and fear that I will leave given half the chance.

The day passes in a heat-filled haze, the children spending the morning splashing through the waves and building elaborate sandcastles, only to knock them flat two minutes later. Laura and I take it in turns to keep an eye on them, especially near the water, and when it’s my turn to watch them, Laura drags her Kindle out of her bag and turns onto her stomach to tan her back. I walk down to the water’s edge where the kids are overturning stones to see if they can find any life underneath.

‘Kids, if you want to find living things I’ll take you over to the rock pools. Come on. Grab your buckets and spades and we’ll go exploring.’ Maggie and Lucy clap their hands and make a grab for their buckets, while poor old Fred just looks bemused.

‘Come on, Freddie.’ I take Fred by the hand and follow the girls, who are racing ahead to the rock pools. We find a good-sized pool, water slightly warmed by the heat of the day, and start flipping over slimy, seaweed-covered rocks in search of any form of sea creature we can find – the girls shrieking in delight at a tiny jellyfish, while Fred finds a dead crab fascinating. We fill plastic buckets with seawater and the girls add their treasures to them, pieces of coral, shells and crab legs all making their way into our haul. An hour later, we return to where Laura has obviously given up on her book and fallen asleep. I ever so gently tip one of the buckets over her back, splashing her with cold sea water, and she jumps up shrieking.

‘Bloody hell, Sal, you git! I’m soaked! And I was having a very enjoyable dream in which Johnny Depp was telling me how much he loves a red-head.’ She shakes herself off and sits back down on the beach towel next to Lucy and Maggie. ‘What have you got there?’

Maggie grins up at her. ‘We’ve got a hermit crab, and a little tiny fish, see?’

‘Sal helped us find them,’ Lucy pipes up, sloshing seawater from the bucket in her haste to show her mother.

‘Well, aren’t you lucky?’ Laura smiles down at them both. ‘You’re both incredibly lucky to have Sal.’ Her eyes flick to my bare legs, exposed to the sun after even I couldn’t justify wearing jeans to the beach, to the marks that are still visible from the hot lasagne a week ago and, grateful that she doesn’t question me, I say nothing.

We spend the afternoon at the pier, watching the fishermen casting their lines, and when Fred is so exhausted he can’t walk any more but refuses to be pushed in the buggy we head back to the car. By the time we pull up on our driveway all three children are fast asleep in the back. I turn to Laura, who has been uncharacteristically quiet on the drive home.

‘Thanks for today, Laur. I didn’t realise quite how badly I needed it.’ I turn the car off and unclip my seatbelt.

‘Sal? Is there anything you want to talk to me about?’ Laura gazes at me steadily, forcing me to look away and fiddle with my shirt buttons.

‘What? No. Of course not. What do you mean?’ I swallow nervously. There really is nothing at this moment in time that I want to talk to Laura, or anyone, about. I’ve tried that before and it’s safe to say that it wasn’t a success.

‘Your legs, Sal. What happened to your legs? It looks like they’re burnt. And you were wearing jeans last week, even though it was really hot, like you wanted to cover them up, or something. Then you just stayed home all week . Like you weren’t allowed to leave the house. Please, Sal; if there’s something wrong, please tell me. I’m your friend; I want to help you.’ She reaches out a hand towards me, but seems to change her mind at the last minute, dropping it back into her lap.

‘My legs are fine, Laura. Fine. I dropped a hot dish, that’s all, and it splashed up. I wore jeans because that’s what I wanted to wear and I stayed home because I didn’t want to go out. There’s nothing sinister going on, and I don’t need you making out like there is, OK? I went out with you today, didn’t I?’ I feel myself getting angry and defensive, even though I know Laura is only trying to help, but I can’t, I can’t , talk to her about it. It would only make things worse.

‘OK.’ Laura opens the car door and swings her legs out, before turning back to me, her gaze unwavering. ‘But remember, Sal, I’m only next door, I’m always only next door, whenever you need me.’ She pulls a sleeping Fred out from his car seat and I sit for a moment, unsure of what to say, before deciding to say nothing. Reaching in to unclip Lucy from her car seat, I breathe in the scent of Laura’s perfume, a stain on the air left by her presence in the car, and wish, beyond everything, that I could tell her.

Chapter Ten

CHARLIE

The golf day goes well, and Mr Pavlenco and his team are happy when we all head back towards the clubhouse at the end of the day. I feel like the weight on my shoulders has lifted briefly, now that I know Pavlenco is happier. Mr Pavlenco and his team head through to the bar and I take the opportunity to call Sal. The phone is answered immediately, so I relax and find myself able to enjoy a meal and a few drinks with the Otex team before catching a cab home. The day has been a small respite in the relentless torrent of paperwork and phone calls this demanding case has generated, and although I am feeling a little better about the potential outcome of the deal, I am still aware that there is a lot of work ahead of me if I’m going to pull this off successfully.

As I walk in the door, I catch sight of Sal snoozing on the sofa – there is no sign of Maggie, and as it’s past 8pm I guess Sal has already put her to bed.

‘Sal, wake up.’ I lean over and hiss quietly, shaking Sal by the shoulder.

‘Huh? Oh, Charlie, you’re home.’ Sal smiles up at me groggily and struggles into a sitting position, dark curls skewed at crazy angles. ‘How did it go?’

‘Excellent. The team at Otex are happy that we’re doing what we can to make sure the merger goes ahead as smoothly as possible, so fingers crossed all good. What did you do today? You seem exhausted.’ A tiny niggle of irritation burrows away at me, at the idea of Sal snoozing away on the sofa while I’m out slogging my guts out, schmoozing clients and bowing to their every whim.

‘Oh, nothing much. It must be the heat, takes it out of me.’ Sal yawns, stretching long fingers out in an arch. It is still ridiculously hot and muggy outside. ‘We just stayed at home, had a spot of lunch, nothing exciting.’