‘Look, it’s not a problem at the moment. Don’t think about it.’
The fingers of my left hand circled my wrist and pressed down on the pulse. ‘Do you think history repeats itself?’ In other words, had it been predetermined that Nathan would seek comfort and pleasure from the source he knew so well?
‘You mustn’t mind.’ She threw a muslin square over her shoulder, draped Charlie over it, and eased herself to her feet, where she performed a circular rocking movement, like some tribal elder. ‘Helps with the wind.’ Charlie obliged and, one hand rubbing her own back, Paige gyrated in the opposite direction. ‘I’ve sent a search party for my waist, and it’s still out there.’
I laughed. ‘Presumably all your check-ups have been OK.’
‘Back’s a bit dodgy. The ligaments had gone into permanent tension. And I’m not so good at sleeping now. But, then, I anticipated on not sleeping for a hundred years. Do you want to come upstairs while I change Charlie?’
Paige was a champion mother. She was also a champion housekeeper. Her store-cupboards were immaculate, and none of her spice jars ever overran their sell-by date. Each shelf in the linen cupboard corresponded to a room in the house, and the clothes in her wardrobe were colour-coded. You could hate Paige, unless you loved her.
I trailed up behind her, noting that every shelf was dust-free and the curtains in the children’s bedrooms had strips of transparent film sewn along the bottom to preserve them. When I passed the spare room and glanced inside, though, I did a double-take. It was awash with discarded clothes, books, a pile of papers on the floor.
‘You’re looking at the mess? Martin said the deal was that if we had a third, which he didn’t want, he’d grab a space where he could live like a pig.’
‘Ah.’
Paige changed and washed Charlie. For all her talk, she was clearly tired, so I gathered up the discarded baby things and wiped down the mat.
‘You shouldn’t do that,’ she said. ‘But I’m grateful.’
‘Have you any idea how I crave to do something ordinary?’ I chucked the cotton-wool into the bin.
Suddenly Paige sat down on the nursing chair. Her stomach bulged over her skirt, and her thighs had a flabby underdone look. What next, Minty? What are you going to do?’
‘Go back to work full-time. Keep the boys and myself.’
‘You wanted to go back.’
‘I did.’
Paige pinched the flesh of one suety thigh and glared at it. ‘Well, it’s a beginning.’
A week later I packed shorts, T-shirts, sweaters, buckets, spades, baked beans, favourite cereals, teddy bears and alphabet spaghetti into the car, loaded Eve, a map and the boys into it and drove out of London.
We were heading for Priac Bay in Cornwall. To be more specific, we were going to the house where Nathan and Rose had holidayed every year. It had been neither an easy, nor a difficult decision to make because it had not been a decision in the formal sense. I had never been to Priac Bay – I distrusted the idea of it. ‘For God’s sake,’ I had protested to Paige in the past, when Nathan had brought up the subject of going there. ‘It was where he took his first family.’
Paige had been suitably shocked. ‘Is he stupid? Or very limited in the imagination department?’
Yet I knew I had to take the boys and myself to a place where Nathan had been happy, so I had got on the phone and arranged it.
It was raining, a light spume, when three hundred or so murderous miles later the car jolted down the unmade road that led to the cottage. Stupefied and bored, Felix and Lucas were silent in the back.
The world was drenched. The horizon was wiped out by mist, and the sea roared with white crests. The slate tiles on the roof gleamed, there were damp patches sprouting on the grey walls and the plants in the garden dripped.
Eve drew the sleeves of her jersey further down her wrists. ‘It’s cold, Minty.’
I, too, was cold, with apprehension and worry. We felt worse when we discovered that two of the bedrooms were damp, the plumbing questionable and the nearest shops several miles away. Eve and I did our best. We made beds, unpacked, stacked the buckets and spades by the front door. We ate a scratch supper of beans and fried eggs, watched rain sweep across the grey sea and listened to the gulls.
‘Daddy came here,’ I told the boys. ‘Lots. For his holidays.’
‘Daddy,’ said Felix, and his blue eyes darkened. ‘Daddy.’
After a moment, Lucas asked, ‘Am I sitting in Daddy’s chair?’
‘It’s possible. It looks as though it’s been here for a long time.’
Eve chased a bean round her plate.
In the morning Eve and I led the boys down the steep path to the tiny beach. After the rain, the mud was as sticky as toffee, and the boys squealed with joy. As we slid and slithered down, moisture from the thick clumps of vegetation seeped into our clothes. The air was heavy with salt. The leaves and branches as we brushed past smelt of it and left its residue on our lips.
Down on the beach, the tide was retreating, leaving dark patches on the stones. Gulls screamed overhead. The boys ran madly up and down, calling to each other. I sat on a rock and watched them.
My feet were wet and, under my jacket, I was shivering almost uncontrollably. Nathan had loved this place. That much I knew, but little else. I had never asked why, or which was his favourite spot, the best bay to swim. I had been silent. Metaphorically, I had turned my back. ‘You know, Minty, you don’t know me very well at all,’ he had once accused me.
If only I had taken the time to answer him. If only I had sat down, there and then, and said, ‘Let’s talk, Nathan. Tell me.’
To find myself, so ordinarily materialistic and without grace, at the mercy of such pain, impotence and ugliness was bewildering – it was like being dashed this way and that in a tide as strong as the one peeling back the water from the sand.
Eve beckoned to Felix. ‘Felix, come. There is something here.’ They huddled together and inspected an object in the sand.
Lucas circled them. He was cross and sang very loudly, ‘Look at me. Look at me.’
Long ago in the Vistemax office, before the sea-change had taken place in me, I had told Rose, ‘I don’t have a family. Who wants one? I don’t have children. Why hang a millstone round your neck?’ Now I had a family, and the intolerable weight of the millstone tugged and pulled at every bone and muscle.
‘Mum!’ White legs flashing under his green shorts, hair pushed off his forehead by the wind, Felix came over the shingle towards me with a goosefleshed arm outstretched. ‘See what I’ve got.’
He unclasped his hand to reveal a perfect mermaid’s purse.
After lunch of bread and cheese, the boys were chased upstairs and put to bed for a rest. I left Eve grimly washing up and complaining of the lack of hot water, got into the car and went to find provisions.
The nearest supermarket was on the outskirts of Penzance. It was busy and noisy. This was the beginning (as Paige would have it) of the new economy, a different fiscal regime. I chose cut-price jam and chicken breasts, the least expensive butter, and every own-brand that I could bear to buy.
I drove away, slightly nauseous. The wind had dropped, and warmth from the sun had crept into the still air. The sea had turned into a gentle wash. It was a beautiful day, and out at sea, boats of all sizes were scudding across the water.
When I got back, Eve had taken the boys down to the beach, and I could hear their shouts. I unpacked slowly and awkwardly, unable to shake off an overpowering, almost frightening feeling that Nathan was in the cottage.
In the end, I snatched up my jacket and went outside. The coastal path passed directly in front of the cottage, and I headed towards the point. After a while, I increased my pace until I was almost running, my feet bouncing over the turf and stones. The sun was blinding, and the sea, shallow near the cliffs, a transparent turquoise. The seabirds wheeled and dived noisily to the rocks. As I rounded a corner, the wind hit me and I slithered to a halt.