Fionnuala Kearney - The Day I Lost You - A heartfelt, emotion-packed, twist-filled read

‘Enjoy, birthday girl!’ he beams.

I smile my thanks.

‘Why, Leah?’ I repeat. ‘You know something I don’t?’ I slice through the steak with the serrated knife.

‘You know what chambers are like. The place is rife with rumours.’

There are times I forget that Leah, as a senior practice manager for a firm of barristers, moves in the same circles as Harriet. I feel immediate colour rush to my cheeks.

‘Ahh,’ she says, seeing my discomfort, ‘so it’s not rumour then?’

I sigh loudly. ‘What have you heard?’

‘That Harriet’s shagging her boss, Roland. That that’s why she left Theo.’

I frown, try to chew my food so I won’t have to confirm or deny anything. Leah’s delicate kick in my shins reminds me I won’t get away with that.

‘Ouch, do not kick me.’

‘Speak. Now.’ She points the sharp end of her knife at me.

‘Ladies, ladies …’ Gus shakes his head. ‘Eat up!’ He looks in my direction. ‘Jess, you need to eat, you’re fading away. And Leah, stop gossiping.’

‘Yes, Leah. Stop gossiping.’ I play with the steak on my plate. ‘Thank you for this, Gus. I’m sorry again that I cancelled last night.’

Gus places his fork on his plate and squeezes my forearm with his hand. ‘Forget about it. I’ve told you – no harm done and you’re here now.’ My hand gives his a reassuring tap. He releases me and lifts his wine glass, tilts it in my direction and smiles. His silent toast to me is all that is needed.

‘Harriet?’ Leah persists as Gus turns his head fully to glare at her.

‘I have no idea if Harriet is shagging anyone,’ I reply.

‘If it’s true, I suppose that means they’re over?’

‘Let’s hope not.’ As I speak the words aloud, I’m not sure I mean them. In the many years I’ve known Theo, Harriet has always been pleasant, always been polite, but she tolerates more than likes me. I’ve sat at her dinner table; we spent last Christmas together, all of us: me, Anna and Rose. She constantly says the ‘right thing’ to me, but more often than not it has a ring of insincerity to it – except maybe after Anna’s accident. She did write me a lovely letter then. My face flushes guiltily as I tell myself off for thinking badly of her, and at the same time hand Pug her first illicit mouthful of steak.

It’s 11.50 p.m. and I’ve texted Theo’s mobile to let him know I’m standing outside his front door. Moments later he opens it, rubs sleep from his eyes.

‘Jess? It’s late … Bloody hell, is that a dog in your hand?’

‘It’s ten to twelve. Happy Valentine’s Day and yes, I’m carrying a dog. Say hi to Pug. Apparently I need a recipient for all my unconditional love.’

‘Valentine’s Day … Really?’ He scratches his head above his right ear, just along the line where his hair changes from black to grey, stifles a yawn. ‘And there are always conditions in love,’ he says.

‘When did you become such a cynic?’ I shiver. ‘Aren’t you going to ask me in?’

He holds the door open for me to pass under his arm. ‘Go through. I’ll put the kettle on,’ he says.

I cross Harriet’s threshold close to midnight. As I’m doing it, I know I wouldn’t be if she were still here.

‘I’m sorry for getting you up.’ I look around the huge kitchen as we listen to the beginning hum of the kettle. ‘Have you changed something in here? It looks different.’

‘Just a coat of paint. I did it last week.’

‘Looks good.’ I can imagine him, up a stepladder every evening, the news channel on full blast on the television, trying hard to keep busy. ‘There’s something I want to say.’

He’s dangling a couple of tea bags in two mugs, one in each hand. ‘Hmmm?’ he says.

‘I was at Leah’s earlier, finally got around to eating the birthday dinner Gus planned – anyway, she asked me about you and I realized that I’ve been too immersed in my own life to …’ Pug is pacing Theo’s quarry tiles, picks a spot in the corner near the Aga and squats. I’m there immediately with some kitchen paper from a roll on the worktop. ‘Sorry.’

He hands me a cup of strong, black tea, just the way I like it.

‘Where was I? Oh, I was trying to say I don’t think I’ve been here for you.’

‘Jess, you had Anna to deal with. Have Anna to deal with. Harriet and I—’

I shake my head. ‘It’s not a competition. Friends help each other. I haven’t been around for you. That’s all I wanted to say, so, I’ll finish this cup of tea and be on my way with Pug.’

I stare at him over the rim of the mug. We have an unusual friendship; have done since that day he first came to the surgery as a visiting locum and drove into the back of my car. The memory of a much less self-assured, younger Theo comes to mind. A memory of him being on duty in A&E the night a teenage Anna drank too much and needed her stomach pumped; a memory of a colleague’s drunken laughter over our ‘friendship’ one Christmas. But that’s what it was and always has been: a deep, loving friendship. He’s what I would have in a girlfriend, except he’s a guy. I’m what he would have in a guy-friend, what he has with his real guy-friends. It’s simple, uncomplicated, and works for us.

And right now he looks tired. Dark shadows circle his green eyes, both of which follow the only sound in the room – Pug padding across the tiled floor, sniffing out new territory. Theo takes a seat at the circular kitchen table, kicks out a chair opposite him. ‘Sit. You’re here now, take your time. Let’s talk.’

I plonk myself down on the chair, one eye on the roaming dog. ‘You must miss her.’ It’s a statement more than a question and he shrugs.

‘I miss the woman I thought I knew,’ he says. ‘I miss her being around; having someone to share things with. I miss her being here for Finn.’

‘Doug left me when Anna was the same age. It’s tough for them. All they want is their mum and dad together.’

‘I knew the relationship had changed, but I thought it was just a phase and that we’d get back on track with time. I never thought …’ He hesitates. ‘I suppose whatever I thought about her leaving me, I never thought she’d walk away from Finn. Yet it’s the best thing she could have done for him – leave him here in his home, at his school, with his father. Out of the whole scenario, that’s both the best and shittiest thing she’s done.’ He laces his hands behind his neck. ‘Anyway …’

I bite my tongue. I haven’t been able to understand her being able to leave Finn either, but the facts are it happens, and no one – not a soul – questioned Doug leaving Anna in the same manner. If I’m honest, part of me admires Harriet’s strength to do it, and another part of me is beyond angry that she could willingly walk away from her child when I’ve probably had mine stolen from me.

‘I’m going to see my parents tomorrow.’ I change the subject, glancing at my watch. ‘Today, later this morning.’

‘You’re ready to see them?’ he asks, acknowledging the fact that I’ve managed to avoid visiting for more than ten weeks.

‘Leah and Gus are going for the day tomorrow. It’s a lot to do in one day, but they’ve talked me into going. They’re right. Mum is constantly phoning, tries her best, and she already has her hands full looking after Dad.’ I stop to draw breath. ‘Look, I just really wanted to say thank you for being there for me and to let you know I’m here for you too.’

‘Don’t worry about me. You have enough on your mind.’

My eyes rest on old school drawings pinned to the notice board next to the fridge. Frayed and yellowing, Finn’s earliest artwork, they’re years old and they make me think of Rose and how much I’ve missed her. Since Anna’s accident, I have had Rose to look after pretty much full time, apart from the days that Sean has had her for odd weekends. Having her fill my life helps me avoid thinking. Thinking about Anna, wondering where she is; wondering if I will ever have the closure of burying her; wondering if someday she’ll phone me from a bar in Brazil and explain that she’s alive and kicking – that becoming a mother at nineteen was just too much for her and that she just had to get away.