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The Forgetting(32)

Author:Hannah Beckerman

There was an almost imperceptible nod of his head. ‘I stayed up until midnight finishing it so I could get on the road first thing this morning.’

‘I’m really sorry.’

Dominic’s Adam’s apple rose and fell. ‘Where were you, anyway?’

‘I was just . . .’ Livvy hesitated, wondered whether a little white lie would be better in the circumstances, before settling on the truth. ‘With Bea. For a quick coffee – her treat. I even declined the offer of cake.’ She laughed, but it sounded thin, reedy, like air escaping from the pinched neck of a balloon.

Dominic said nothing for a few seconds, his gaze fixed on something out of the window. When he finally turned back to her, his voice was flat, muted, a hinterland between emotions. ‘Yet again, your family comes first.’

The comment was disorientating, as though she and Dominic were travelling through an unfamiliar landscape and he had changed their route without telling her. ‘What do you mean?’

Dominic shook his head. ‘Don’t you think it would be nice, just occasionally, for our marriage to be your priority, rather than you always putting your parents and your sister first?’

Livvy paused, knowing the topography of this conversation was littered with mines. In the early months of their relationship, Dominic had seemed to revel in the warmth of her family; he’d been charming and funny, and her parents had adored him from the outset. It had seemed to Livvy that he’d embraced the opportunity to be part of a functional, loving family. But more recently she’d been aware of snatches of resentment creeping in, moments when Livvy’s closeness to her family seemed to emphasise Dominic’s estrangement from his. And after the events of the past fortnight – his mother’s reappearance, his father’s death – those occurrences seem to have been exacerbated further. ‘I don’t think that’s really fair.’

‘But you’re always with them. The amount of time you spend with them, it’s like you’re still a child.’

The accusation stung, not because it was true but because it was unfair. Repressing her frustration, she reminded herself that yesterday had been his father’s funeral, that even though Dominic hadn’t attended, it would still have provoked difficult feelings for him. She softened her voice, placed a hand on his knee. ‘I rarely see them at weekends because I know . . . I understand it can be difficult for you. But they’re my family. Of course I want to spend time with them.’

There was a heartbeat of silence. ‘I thought Leo and I were your family.’

Livvy faltered, as though she had stepped on what she thought was solid ground only for it to shift beneath her. ‘You’re all my family. You and them.’

‘But your parents and your sister come first?’ He stared at Livvy as if challenging her to a duel.

‘No, of course not. You know that you and Leo come first. Please, let’s not ruin the day when you’ve only just got home. I’ve been really looking forward to seeing you.’

‘So much so that you weren’t even here when I got back.’

Livvy allowed herself a breath. ‘I’ve said I’m sorry. I’d never have gone out if I’d known you were coming so early.’ Taking hold of his hand, she kissed the back of it, felt Dominic shift in his seat, sensed the tension between them begin to dissolve.

‘I’m sorry. It was just such a disappointment to get home and find an empty house.’ He half smiled and Livvy felt as though she were emptying her lungs for the first time since arriving home. ‘Anyway, what were you and your sister gossiping about today?’

Livvy ignored the arch tone, kept her voice breezy. ‘I was just telling her about all the work stuff.’

‘Oh, great. And what pearls of wisdom did Bea have to offer?’

‘She was actually really helpful—’

‘I’ll bet she was. Instructing you to go back to work and get Leo settled into childcare as soon as possible?’

‘It wasn’t like that—’

Dominic squeezed her shoulder. ‘I’m only teasing. But seriously, do you think Bea has any clue about your life, or your priorities? She can’t possibly understand how you feel about going back to work. She’s not a mother.’

‘I think that’s a bit unfair—’

‘Is it? I like Bea, you know I do. I just hate the way she makes you doubt yourself sometimes. Think about all the times she’s tried to push you into decisions that would be right for her but aren’t right for you. If you’d listened to her advice, Leo wouldn’t be here now.’

Instinctively, Livvy reached across to Leo, smoothed her hand gently along his forehead, remembered the morning she’d told Bea she was pregnant. Bea had cautioned Livvy to think through her options before sharing the news with Dominic. There had been nothing sinister in her sister’s advice: she was simply trying to ensure that Livvy knew her own mind before bringing Dominic into the equation. And yet, ever since Livvy had told Dominic the story of that morning, in Dominic’s version of events, Bea had practically dragged Livvy to the doors of an abortion clinic and thrust her inside.

‘Bea wasn’t making me doubt anything. She was being amazing. She’s offered to collect Leo from childcare two days a week, and Mum and Dad can do the other three, so between them they can cover your share of nursery pick-ups until you’re back from Sheffield. It means I can take the promotion without any impact on Leo. They’re all doing us a massive favour.’ She could hear the defiance in her voice, wished there were no need to defend one part of her family against another.

Dominic said nothing, fidgeted in his chair as though he could not, all of a sudden, get comfortable, and Livvy felt compelled to fill the silence. ‘I know you’ve got some worries about me going back to work when Leo’s so little, but he really will be fine, and this promotion’s important to me.’

Dominic looked down at Leo, then back up at Livvy. ‘It’s not that. It’s the reason I really wanted you here when I got home. I’ve got a confession to make.’

ANNA

LONDON

It is early afternoon by the time I am walking briskly along tree-lined streets towards the park. I’d wanted to get out earlier, but I knew Stephen would be phoning at lunchtime and I didn’t want to miss his call. He ended up phoning later than expected, said a conference session had overrun and he didn’t have long before the next. He sounded pressed for time, and I spoke quickly, told him about my conversation with the therapist, and he said it was great news, a step in the right direction. I asked about our house being rented and there were a few moments of awkward misunderstanding before he apologised, said he hadn’t thought to clarify before. He explained that we’d sold our home last year, but the house we were purchasing had fallen through at the last minute. We’d moved into rented accommodation and were now looking to buy slightly further out of town, where we could get more space for our money. Hearing Stephen’s explanation, it suddenly made sense why so much of our furniture seems ill-fitting in this house.

Arriving at the gate to the park, I see Zahira and Elyas immediately, experience a wave of relief that they are here, on a Saturday afternoon. As I head towards the playground, Zahira turns, sees me, smiles and waves. It is such a small gesture and yet I feel like a new pupil on the first day of school who has unexpectedly been taken under the wing of the most popular girl in the year.

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