Sara Foster - Come Back to Me

‘God knows,’ Chloe said, her own head shaking again in echo of his. ‘I’m worried Mum is losing it, and I can’t expect June and George to be responsible for her. But I also can’t race up there every time her heart skips a beat and she panics and phones an ambulance.’

‘It could be worse,’ Mark said. ‘She could be coming into your office wearing your clothes and trying to take over your cases.’

They’d looked at each other for a long moment, and Mark had laughed first. Chloe quickly followed, and for a moment they revelled in the release of it.

‘God,’ Chloe said, reaching for a tissue and blowing her nose. ‘I keep trying to think back over what I’ve done to have attracted such incredibly bad karma.’

‘Don’t waste your time,’ Mark said, sobering. ‘None of this is your fault. Sometimes life is just shite, I reckon.’

Chloe looked at him and sighed. ‘Yes, I know you’re right. To be honest, I’m fed up with going over and over every thing. I just want to forget about it all for a while and get on with this.’ She gestured to her paper-strewn desk.

‘Fancy a working weekend?’ Mark suggested. ‘I’m thinking we surprise Neil by actually displaying a certain degree of competency about the Abbott case by Monday morning.’

Chloe had smiled, then nodded. ‘Definitely.’

So they had worked on Friday night, over a Thai takeaway; then all yesterday, stopping only for a deli lunch break, and a fish and chip supper. Mark had slept on Chloe’s couch, and they’d resumed again in the morning. They hadn’t talked about anything awkward – certainly not the pregnancy, which Mark was doing his best to pretend didn’t exist – it was either the case, or irrelevancies like politics, TV or which films they’d seen recently. By lunchtime there had been an efficient pile of notes, and nothing much left for them to do, so Mark had decided to head back to his apartment, but not before telling Chloe he was taking her out for a meal later.

They were growing closer, he could feel it, and he was revelling in it. He’d never expected to have time alone with her like this again, but in the past week they had established a cajoling, easy banter that he didn’t even remember them having the first time around. His chest swelled with happiness whenever he made her smile. He was also boosted by the knowledge that each smile was a small victory over her undeserving husband, proving that Chloe might still be happy without him.

But now the phone was ringing, distracting him from these welcome thoughts, and when he saw who the caller was, it was with the greatest reluctance that he decided he had to take the call.

‘Hi, sis,’ he said.

‘Mark,’ came his sister’s no-nonsense voice down the line. ‘I’m calling a family summit.’

Mark rolled his eyes at her words. ‘Okay, Diane. Still the drama queen, I see.’

‘Well, you could try and wait for at least sixty seconds before acting like an arse, Mark,’ his sister said in reply.

They’d always been this way. Mark was fairly sure there was a mutual affection hidden under the surface somewhere, but he’d yet to locate it conclusively. He found his sister curt and condescending, and knew without a doubt that she had exactly the same opinion of him.

‘Go on then, let’s hear it,’ he said.

‘Well, obviously, it’s about Dad,’ she replied. ‘And since I know he’s been staying with you a lot recently, I’m surprised you haven’t been in touch.’

Mark tried not to be riled, but it was a losing battle. ‘What for?’

‘What for?! Well, perhaps because it’s bloody obvious from where I’m standing that Dad is having some kind of breakdown, and needs our help.’

‘He’s not having a breakdown, he’s just – he’s just having a rough time.’

‘It’s more than that, Mark.’

‘I know, Di,’ he said, allowing his exasperation to become evident. ‘He’s been lying comatose on my couch for a fair amount of time over the past week.’

‘Exactly. And yet, you didn’t think this was a problem.’

‘Jeez, Di, don’t play the doting daughter with me. It’s not you who’s had to put up with him.’

‘Er, actually, he’s been in my spare room since Thursday. Not to mention the fact that Mum is on the phone all the time, either pouring her heart out or ranting about divorcing him.’

Mark’s heart sank. So that’s where he’d gone. He felt pretty awful that he hadn’t checked – his father could have been lying dead in a gutter for all Mark knew – but he just didn’t want to deal with this. He wasn’t even sure why, but recently every time he thought of his dad’s troubled, decrepit face, it made him want to find something solid to hide behind.

‘Di, I don’t know. Mum and Dad have never exactly been open to us giving our opinion on things…’

‘Well, it’s about time they were, then. They’re both being daft. They are completely unsentimental, egotistical idiots, but I can’t believe they don’t care about each other. It’s up to us to bang their heads together.’

Mark snorted. ‘Okay. That’s a sight I’m curious to see, if nothing else. What’s the plan?’

‘Dad’s not going anywhere, he’s hardly left the spare room since he got here, and I’m doing far too good a job of waiting on him. Can you bring Mum down one night this week?’

Mark sighed. ‘I guess.’ The thought of travelling to southern Kent after work didn’t enthral him, but at least now he had confidence that he was back on his game as far as Abbott was concerned. ‘I can’t do tomorrow or Tuesday, but maybe Wednesday.’

‘Okay. Your job is getting Mum here. Then we’ll stage an intervention.’

‘A what?’

‘A family crisis meeting – we’ll force them to confront what’s going on.’

‘I can’t wait.’

‘Just call me back when you know for sure about Wednesday,’ Di said, hanging up.

Mark sighed again as he snapped his phone shut.

Amy ran out of the sea, smiling, water cascading off her smooth skin, and pushed her sodden hair out of her eyes, blinking the salt away. As she walked towards Alex, a wave rose up behind her, only just above the height of her knee, but with enough strength to knock her off balance. She staggered forward, arms in front of her, but righted herself before she hit the sand, and as she did she was laughing. Alex was laughing too as she caught his eye. And there she was again.

His Amy. The one he had fallen in love with all those years ago. The one he saw returning a little more each day.

They were only three or so hours’ drive from Perth, but it was as if they had been transported to another world. It seemed to Alex this might be one decision he hadn’t got wrong. Although, his plan hadn’t started so well – the drive down in the hire car, in the fading afternoon light, had been through deserted bushland most of the way, and Amy had been so pale he had worried he’d have to turn off course at any moment and find her a doctor.

They had arrived late. To a quiet, darkened resort, an empty reception area, then a girl handing them keys for a villa he had prebooked on the internet only hours earlier, which they had to walk down a pitch-black path to get to. By the time they had unlocked the front door and Alex had turned on the lights, Amy had been white-faced, silent, shaking, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and she’d gone and locked herself in the bathroom for over an hour, while Alex contemplated whether he was really up to this new, pro-active approach.

However, the next morning, when they had woken up to the sounds of the sea and the excited squawking of children and gulls, and headed out for breakfast to find themselves in a beautiful, bustling resort, he knew for sure that his idea had been a good one. Waiting it out here would be a completely different proposition to their small, claustrophobic hotel room in the city. In fact, as the days had gone by, they both seemed almost to have forgotten that they were waiting for anything at all. They had swum, and eaten, and read, and taken walks along the beach. Last night, on one such expedition at sunset, Amy grabbed hold of his hand and held it for just a moment, while Alex thought uneasily of his wife.