Private Lives

Epilogue

January

Abi is going into the kitchen to check on the roast chicken when she hears a car pull up outside the flat. She stays away from the window because she doesn’t have to see her to know it’ll be Anna. Blake will already be reaching to open his door even though the car hasn’t come to a complete stop yet; he likes to come to Brighton at the start of Anna’s week, when she stays in their old family home with the kids. Lily only goes to their place when it’s Eddy’s week at home. Abi suspects Blake would rather get the train from Waverly to Brighton but maybe letting Anna drive him is part of their agreement. He can go, but only if he lets Anna drive him – twenty minutes just the two of them. She pictures those journeys, Blake staring blankly out of his window as the dual carriageway rushes by, answering Anna’s pre-prepared questions with monosyllables.

Abi feels a wave of sympathy for Anna as she listens to Blake’s car door slam shut. Imagines the shock as Anna’s shoved back into silence, alone again. Her car engine is running but still Anna lingers for a moment so she can watch from the other side of the road as the front door to their flat flies open, Lily standing there, beaming, before Blake has a chance to ring the bell. Anna must see the way their children’s eyes are both brimful of light as they kiss and hug and check in with each other.

And in that moment before the other mother drives away, Abi feels the chasm open again between them, because how can Anna not be moved by this, not want to protect and delight in this beautiful thing that is happening to these beautiful young people?

As Abi moves fully into the kitchen towards the oven just under the window, Anna drives quietly away.

The flat is exactly how she likes it today. Full and noisy. Diego and Stephen are in the little sitting room teaching Margot a new card game; she hears Margot call out in her high voice as Blake and Lily join them, ‘Yay! Blakey can be on my team!’

The chicken is ready, the skin turning a delicious light brown. Even Diego won’t be able to find fault. She leaves it to rest on the side as she takes the miniature roast potatoes, fragrant with rosemary, bubbling with olive oil, out of the oven and drops a curl of butter on to the veg.

Then next door, above the voices, Abi’s phone starts ringing and she hears Lily say, ‘Hello, this is Abi’s phone.’

Lily makes her way across the tiny hall to the kitchen, tucking her red hair behind her ear, a concentrated, inscrutable look on her face as she silently hands Abi her phone.

‘Who is it?’ Abi mouths but Lily just stares at her, her frown deepening, her mouth slightly open before she turns away, back towards the laughter and warmth.

Abi lifts the phone to her ear.

She recognizes her breathing immediately before she even says, ‘Abigail?’

Abi feels something disintegrate within her at the sound of her mum’s voice, but she also remembers Anna sitting in that car on her own. She reminds herself that forgiveness must work in all directions. She walks slowly out of the kitchen, out of the front door and into the needle-sharp air to listen to her mum and so she, too, Abi – at long last – can be heard.