Anouska Knight - A Part of Me

My head began to thump. Me throw it away? ‘You slept with another woman! You watched me go out, like a big idiot, celebrating our plans, and you – what ? Bumped into her here? It was you she was on the phone to, wasn’t it?’ The thumping was intensifying.

James’s voice lowered. ‘I only agreed to meet her because she was going to tell you. She was going to do as much damage as she could. I couldn’t let that happen.’ I’d played this conversation through my head all week. Pointless preparation. ‘I swear, it had only been one time … I told her it was a mistake, and then—’

‘And then what?’ I snapped. ‘You met her to call it all off?’

‘Yes!’ James exclaimed, circumnavigating the table.

‘And what? You accidentally fell into her?’

James darted towards me. I stepped back to accommodate it. ‘Amy, shit! I know what I’ve done is as bad as it gets, but please ! Let me fix this, we can get over this if you just … let us . Please, don’t throw away our life together. We’re so close to getting what we want, Amy.’

‘What we want, or what I want, James?’ The tingling was there again, threatening to render me useless and emotional. He stepped closer.

‘I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want our life, Amy. You know that.’

I could feel the burn, reaching the edges of my eyes. ‘But you betrayed me, James. You slept with her, and now everything’s falling apart. They’ll never give us our child now—’

‘Amy, Anna doesn’t need to know about this. Not unless you tell her. I don’t want to tell her, I want to make it right.’

Don’t cry here. Do not cry here , I warned myself. Somewhere in the back of my brain, I knew that James was playing to my weak spot, but knowing it didn’t make the words any less seductive. I grabbed onto the only thing that would keep me steady. The ugly truth.

‘How did it start?’ I asked, taking a sharp breath. He tried to take my hand but I hadn’t offered it. ‘Where?’

‘Amy, please . We don’t need to do this.’

‘When, and where, James? Has she been in my house?’

Outside, the studio had grown very quiet. A phone rang out, the sound rising above the diminishing volume of the voices around it. He moved over to the glass wall and closed the blinds. I remained where I stood, tense and unyielding.

He pushed both hands through his hair. His was that shade of blond that didn’t quite make it through childhood without acquiring a duller, muddier undertone. ‘Shit, Amy,’ he huffed, looking to his feet. He knew I’d hear it eventually. He approached the table again and idly moved one of the mill photos around under his finger.

‘She started coming on to me a while ago. I laughed it off, ignored her. And then she turned up at the gym.’

‘The gym ?’ I sputtered. ‘You haven’t used the gym since your membership expired. That was before Christmas! ’ I could hear something like hysteria, sprouting in my voice.

‘It wasn’t that long ago—’

‘Yes it was.’ The calculation reran quickly through my head. ‘You stopped going there because of your shin splints. That’s why I paid a fortune for your bloody bike! So you could exercise without your shins hurting!’

‘Amy …’

‘You’ve been seeing her for six months? Six months! ’ Hysteria was giving way to red rage. All that time, he’d let me prattle on about us becoming a family.

‘She’s the reason I stopped going to the gym, Amy! She was there – and here at work … I couldn’t get away from her! She pursued me. I made one mistake, and I couldn’t shake her off!’ I started to feel giddy. ‘Amy, listen to me. I didn’t mean to sleep with her—’

‘Didn’t mean to? Didn’t mean to? ’ I growled. Somebody knocked gingerly on the boardroom door. It wasn’t Adrian, he’d have kicked it down if he wanted to.

‘How are your shins now, James?’ I trembled, a disconcerting calm settled into my shoulders. Six months . Not a momentary mistake at all. Another rap on the door. ‘Did the bike I spent a month’s wages on – while you were at it with Glitter Knickers – did it help ease the pain in your shins?’

Another phone started ringing on the shop floor. No one answered it this time.

‘What are you talking about?’ James asked as the boardroom door handle began to rattle.

‘Your shins, James? How are they shaping up?’

James looked perplexed, so I saved him the hassle of asking again. I launched the toe of my red Mary Jane hard and sure into James’s leg. James yelped, grabbing at his assaulted limb. It hurt me, but it hurt him more.

‘ AMY ! What the f —’

‘I’m sorry , James!’ I retorted mirthfully. ‘I didn’t mean it! That deliberate, hurtful, action … I DIDN’T MEAN IT! ’

‘Er, sorry to interrupt …’ The uncertainty in Phil’s voice rendered it almost unrecognisable.

‘What?’ I growled, the threat of tears driving on my anger. How could he? How could he sit through all of those meetings, the panel hearing, pretending that he wanted a family with me when all the time…?

Phil shifted awkwardly, taking in the spectacle of James sat on the photographs, purple-cheeked and clasping at his leg.

I quickly appraised the dark stranger standing next to Phil. Jeans and T-shirts didn’t usually feature this far from Tom’s end of the office. Baseball caps didn’t feature anywhere at Cyan. ‘Can’t you take delivery of those, Phil?’ I said breathily, nodding at the cardboard tube poking from the stranger’s backpack. Drawings were usually emailed in, but occasionally someone paid to have them couriered instead. ‘James and I are just … having a meeting.’

The delivery guy considered James, who was trying unsuccessfully not to grimace where he sat. Delivery Guy looked away, the beginnings of a smile eking across his boyish face. ‘I think she likes you, mate,’ he said, turning strangely pale hazel eyes this way. They were startling next to his dark hair and lightly tanned complexion.

Phil looked at James and began fighting a grin of her own. Delivery Guy pulled his cap from his head, revealing a choppy brunette crop that made his eyes all the more staggering. He instantly looked older. James winced and got to his feet. ‘Shin splints,’ he volunteered to the other man.

Delivery Guy pouted his acknowledgement. ‘Nasty old business, shin splints, my friend. Painful stuff.’ He was taller than James. Broader, too – his shoulders wide beneath the black tee, framed by the straps of his backpack. James couldn’t make him out either. He looked at me only briefly before hobbling out between the two adults trying to remain straight-faced in the doorway.

Phil moved further into the boardroom. ‘Um, Amy?’

I began absently tidying the photos on the table. ‘Yep?’

Six months . It was a lot of sex-time. A lot of time for hand-holding and secret-sharing.

‘Your next meeting …’ Phil said.

I looked up at her. ‘Hmm? What about it?’ Phil was smiling awkwardly, trying to convey something in the set of her lips. I frowned. ‘My next meeting what? Are these for me?’ I said, holding out my hand out for the tube of drawings.

Phil gave up. ‘Amy Alwood, Rohan Bywater. Mr Bywater is your next meeting. Shall I get Hannah to bring you some fresh coffees?’

I felt the colour drain from my face. Phil shrugged, pairing it with an I tried rise of her eyebrows. Mr Bywater sunk hands into his jean pockets and cocked his head, a dazzling smile reaching over his face as I squirmed on the spot. The drawings I’d practically snatched from his hands felt red-hot in mine now.