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The Forgetting(42)

Author:Hannah Beckerman

‘Are you happy for me to throw these out?’ Dominic held up a pair of framed Frida Kahlo prints that had once graced the walls of Livvy’s flat.

‘No, I really like those. I know there was never room for them here, but maybe there will be in our new place.’

Dominic looked at one picture and then the other. ‘You don’t think they’re a bit . . . studenty?’

‘How is Frida Kahlo studenty?’

Dominic stretched across the pile of boxes, kissed Livvy on the lips. ‘Sweetheart, we’re not going to be able to take everything with us. We have to be a bit ruthless.’ As if to prove his point, he opened a box, lifted out four old cushions yellowing with age and tossed them on the pile for the dump. ‘Maybe your parents could store some of this for you until we’re settled?’

Livvy took the pictures, placed them with her books and photo albums, knew her parents would be happy to put them in their loft. ‘I wish you’d let me help with the house hunt. It’s not as if I don’t have time on my hands. I could at least do some of the internet research.’

‘I’ve already told you, I don’t want you to be bothered with all that. I’ve got a couple of great options – trust me.’

‘It just feels a bit weird, the thought of moving into a new home that I haven’t been involved in choosing.’

Dominic stood up, rubbed his knees where he’d been crouched on the hard floor. ‘I’m just trying to do something nice. Please don’t make me feel bad for it.’

‘I’m not. I’d just like to have a say.’

Dominic placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘It’s only our temporary home. Once we’ve got our bearings, we’ll move somewhere permanent, and of course we’ll look for that together. I just really love the idea of finding us a place to live and surprising you with it on the day we move. Let me do that for you, please?’

Livvy hesitated. ‘Honestly? I’d rather be involved but if it’s that important to you—’

‘It really is.’ He bent down, kissed the top of her head. ‘Right, I need the bathroom. Back in a sec.’

As Dominic closed the door behind him, Livvy opened one of the boxes she’d brought from her flat, found her teenage diaries inside, closed it again quickly and marked it for her parents’ attic.

On the far side of the room was a tall, wooden cupboard Livvy had never had cause to look in before. Opening the doors, she found a stack of cardboard boxes fastened with ageing Sellotape. Lifting them out, she pulled at the lid of one, the tape brittle beneath her fingers.

When she looked inside, it took a few moments for her to understand what she was seeing. She extracted the first item, then another, put them on the desk beside her.

It was a pair of Airfix models – one Spitfire, one Tiger Moth – each of them painstakingly constructed and diligently painted, not a single brushstroke out of place. And yet the presence of them here made no sense. Dominic had told her that all his childhood possessions – Airfix models included – had been thrown away the day his parents cleared out his bedroom when he was twelve.

Delving back into the box, she found three more Airfix planes, tried to fit their existence into the story she’d been told.

‘What have you got there?’

Livvy turned around, startled, saw Dominic standing in the doorway.

‘I just found these. Aren’t they Airfix models?’

Dominic looked at them, then back at Livvy. ‘Yes. Where did you find them?’

Livvy gestured behind her. ‘In that cupboard. I thought you said your parents threw them all away?’

Dominic shook his head. ‘They threw away pretty much all my belongings but not these.’

Something was askew in Livvy’s mind, as though her memory was operating in two different time zones. ‘Really? I was sure you’d mentioned Airfix models.’

Dominic shook his head, negotiated his way towards her through the maze of boxes, took the models she was holding out of her hands. ‘These were the only things they didn’t manage to find. They’d been in a box at the back of my wardrobe and I’ve kept them ever since.’ He studied them for a moment before putting them back carefully with the others. ‘I think we could probably do with a break. Do you want a cup of tea?’

Livvy nodded, followed him out into the kitchen, watched as he made them both tea.

‘You know what I’ve been thinking?’ He sat down at right angles to her at the kitchen table, placed their mugs on coasters.

‘What?’

He eyed her thoughtfully, and Livvy experienced the same feeling she’d had in the early days of their courtship: the intensity of his attention. ‘Given we’re having a fresh start, what do you think about getting your hair cut short? I think it would really suit you.’

Without even considering her response, Livvy shook her head. ‘God, no. I’ve always had long hair. I’d feel weird without it.’ She fingered a strand, twiddled it around her finger.

Dominic reached out, untangled the hair. ‘It would stop you doing that for a start.’ He looked at her, unblinking. ‘I honestly think it would look great on you. You’ve got such a beautiful face, why hide it beneath all that hair?’

Livvy baulked at the question. Her hair had been long ever since childhood. The thought of cutting it short was anathema to her, like suggesting she cut off a finger, or a toe, or a pound of flesh. ‘I like my hair long. I always have. It feels . . . I don’t know. Comforting.’

‘But maybe that’s a good reason to get it cut? Wouldn’t you like something a bit more – I don’t know – grown-up?’

Heat flushed Livvy’s cheeks. ‘How is long hair not grown-up? Plenty of adult women have long hair.’ She could hear the defensiveness in her voice, felt annoyed with Dominic for provoking it in her.

‘There’s no need to get irritable. I just think short hair would look great on you. I’m paying you a compliment. Not all women could get away with it.’

He smiled, but Livvy looked away, sipped her too-hot tea, scalded the roof of her mouth. Her eyes grazed the clock on the oven. ‘God, I hadn’t realised it was so late. I’d better go and collect Leo from Mum and Dad’s.’

Dominic pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll go.’

‘Really?’

‘Honestly, I’m happy to. You’ve been taking care of Leo all week. You look shattered. Why don’t you have a nice long bath?’ He bent forward, kissed her on the lips. ‘Shall we watch a film tonight? The new Wes Anderson’s on Amazon Prime.’

Livvy nodded, even though she often found Wes Anderson’s films pretentious. But Dominic loved them and she knew he’d missed this one at the cinema when Leo was born.

‘I’ll see you in about forty-five minutes. I doubt I’ll get away without stopping for a cup of tea.’ He smiled, kissed her again, turned to leave.

Livvy waited until she heard the click of the front door. Retrieving her mobile phone from a shelf on the dresser, she found a WhatsApp message from Bea, the first two lines of which were visible without needing to unlock the screen.

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