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The Love of My Life(129)

Author:Rosie Walsh

I agree, not without reluctance, that it does.

I go to the fridge and get out some ham. Emma watches me, and I’m nearly laid out by sadness. I don’t know if we’ll ever joke about failed veganism again.

‘But the thing is . . .’ I open the packet. ‘The thing I’m struggling with, is why you want to track her down in the first place. How can you find it in yourself to care about her, after what she did to you?’

‘I don’t care about her,’ she says, quietly. ‘Not really. Certainly not yet.’

I hover, not knowing what to say.

‘I don’t imagine I’ll ever forgive her. I don’t think anyone could. But this is about Charlie. He’s terrified she’ll take her own life, and he thinks it’s his fault. If I can help him find her, I have to.’

‘OK,’ I say, eventually. ‘Why don’t you message Charlie, ask him to call you when he wakes up.’

So she does.

Emma. Emily. I take some more ham out of the packet, roll it up.

The clock ticks. I set the ham down. Emma gets a glass of water.

I put the ham back in the fridge and try to persuade John to get into his bed, just as Emma’s phone rings. ‘It’s Charlie,’ she whispers.

‘Charlie?’ she says, answering. ‘I’m sorry, did my message wake you . . . ?’

She listens for a minute. Can’t sleep, she mouths at me.

I get up and fill the kettle.

‘Well, I know it sounds mad,’ she begins. ‘But . . .’

Fifteen minutes later, we stand at the doorway to our house.

Emma is wearing a waterproof and a beanie hat. She has tea, which I’ve made, and crisps; a couple of apples. It’s quarter past four in the morning and she is about to drive to Highbury Fields, to pick up Charlie, and then she’s going to drive six hours north to Alnmouth beach. Jeremy’s already gone to work. He’s on air at 6 a.m.

‘What will you tell Ruby?’ Emma asks. She tried to wake Ruby a few minutes ago, because she hadn’t seen her last night. ‘Hey,’ she whispered, as Ruby half-woke. ‘I just came to give you a quick kiss, because I’m off to—’

‘Go away,’ said Ruby’s voice, in the darkness. ‘You’re squashing me.’ So that was that.

‘I’ll work something out. But she’ll be fine. She was having a brilliant time with Oskar and Mikkel yesterday evening. She’d no idea we thought you were missing.’

‘I don’t want her to feel like I’ve just abandoned—’

‘She won’t.’ My voice is firm, because Emma needs it to be. ‘Ruby knows you’re her servant. She’s very comfortable with it.’

Outside a bird is making tentative song. His call goes unanswered, but he tries again, and again.

‘I can’t ask you to forgive me,’ Emma says, after pausing to listen to the bird. We’re standing so close I can smell the warm tiredness of her skin. I close my eyes, imagining how it would feel to just lean my face into her hair, to slide my arms around her and pretend she is the Emma I know and trust.

‘I can’t ask you to forgive anything I’ve done,’ she says, quietly. ‘But I need to do this for him. I hope you can understand.’

And I can. I’d do anything for Ruby. We would all do anything for our children.

‘I just need to ask you one thing,’ I say.

‘Of course.’

‘And I beg you, Emma, please answer honestly.’