Rescuing Rose. Isabel Wolff

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СКАЧАТЬ ‘which is why I like living here. That little park at the end of the road is quite good for example.’

      ‘Holland Gardens?’

      ‘Yes. I’ve taken my ’scope there a couple of times. There are no tall buildings around it so you get a big piece of sky, and I’ve a filter which cuts out the glare. And my friend Mark has a large garden so sometimes I go round there. I ring him and say “Are you up for it?”’ he added. ‘That’s what we amateur astronomers say. It’s our little in-joke. Are you up for it?’ He shook his head and laughed. So he wasn’t the Milky Bar kid after all – he was the Milky Way kid.

      ‘What a…fascinating hobby,’ I said with a relieved smile.

      ‘It’s more than that. I’ve been writing a book. I’m doing the final edits at the moment – the page proofs have just come back.’

      ‘A book? What’s it called?’

      ‘Heavenly Bodies –’ Ah. ‘– A Popular Guide to the Stars and Planets. It’s coming out in May. But I’m under terrible pressure timewise which is why I needed to live somewhere quiet.’

      ‘And where did you live before?’ I asked as he sliced the aubergine.

      ‘I told you, with this friend of mine, Mark.’

      ‘But you said that that was temporary; that he was helping you out – so where did you live before that?’

      ‘I lived in Dulwich…’ The knife stopped in mid-air and he repeated, quietly, ‘I lived in Dulwich. With my wife.’

      ‘Oh,’ I murmured, trying not to look astounded. ‘You, er, didn’t say you were married. You look so young.’

      ‘I’m not. I’m twenty-nine. I was married for five years. But I didn’t tell you because…well,’ he stopped. ‘Because it’s too painful and to be honest it’s not relevant.’ Now I remembered his boss’s odd remark, when I’d phoned for a reference, about Theo having had ‘a hard time’.

      ‘Why did you…’ I began, with a sip of beer. ‘No, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.’

      ‘Why did we split up?’ I nodded. ‘Because I disappointed my wife.’

      ‘Really? Er…how?’

      ‘She felt I was letting her down. She’s a solicitor at Prenderville White in the City,’ he explained. ‘She’s very driven and successful, and she expected me to be the same. She wanted me to put everything into my accountancy career to match her success, but I couldn’t. I did all the exams but by then I’d become far more interested in astronomy than in spreadsheets. So I left Price Waterhouse and took an undemanding book-keeping job so that I’d have more time to write. Fi said I was being self-indulgent and that I should knuckle down to my career. She kept on and on and on about it, but I couldn’t bring myself to go back. So five months ago she said she wanted out.’ Poor bloke. There were tears in his eyes. ‘That was her actually, just now, on the phone,’ he explained, his voice quivering. ‘I’d forgotten to give her my keys. To be honest, I find it painful even talking to her. I mean, I can see why she felt as she did. I can understand why we broke up. But understanding is different from feeling isn’t it?’ I nodded. It certainly is. ‘I’m still deeply attached to her. In fact,’ he added, with another swig of beer, ‘I do this silly thing. I –’ he lowered the bottle, ‘promise you won’t laugh?’

      ‘I promise.’

      ‘I sleep with one of her old nighties.’ Ah ha, I thought. So it wasn’t my Cross-Dressing leaflet he needed but Relationship Breakdown instead. ‘I’m sorry,’ he added with that lop-sided smile of his. ‘You hardly know me and here I am, showing you my emotional underpants.’

      ‘I don’t mind,’ I said, and I didn’t – people often tell me personal things. ‘Anyway, that’s my sad tale,’ he concluded with a grim smile. Then he suddenly said, ‘How about you?’

      ‘How about me?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Oh. You mean, my story?’ He nodded. ‘Well…do I have to?’ I added slightly irritably. ‘Yes,’ he said rather bluntly. ‘Fair’s fair.’ That was true enough, so I quickly gave him the bare bones.

      ‘So that’s why you’ve only been here a short time?’ he said as he poured in more olive oil.

      ‘Yes. I needed to make a clean break.’

      ‘But why do you think your husband had the affair?’ he asked as he got out a wooden spoon.

      ‘Because he felt like it I suppose.’

      ‘But there’s usually a reason,’ he said as an aroma of Mediterranean vegetables filled the air. ‘I mean people don’t just have an affair for nothing, do they?’ he added.

      ‘Oh I don’t know,’ I said.

      ‘You’re a fucking nightmare!’ yelled Rudy in Ed’s voice. ‘This marriage was a mistake!’ Shit.

      ‘That silly bird,’ I laughed as I pulled down the cover. ‘He probably got that from the afternoon play. Anyway, I’m sorry you’ve had so much unhappiness,’ I said.

      ‘Well, ditto, but life has to go on. That’s why I like cooking,’ he added. ‘It’s relaxing – it helps me unwind.’

      ‘So you like astronomy and gastronomy,’ I pointed out, and for the first time that evening, he smiled. ‘What are you making?’ I added.

      ‘Ratatouille – would you like some?’

      ‘Oh, no thanks.’

      ‘I’ve put some of my cook books on the shelf,’ he added, ‘I hope you don’t mind.’

      ‘Of course not,’ I said, ‘except…’ I went over to them and began shuffling them about…Jane Grigson…Sophie Grigson…Ainsley Harriot…there. Alastair Little…that was better: Delia Smith…Rick Stein.

      ‘What on earth are you doing?’ he asked.

      ‘I’m just tidying them up.’

      ‘But why?’

      ‘Because I like books to be in alphabetical order – and CDs – it’s better. Don’t you ever do that?’

      ‘Er, no.’

      And I was about to point out the benefits of having a properly alphabetised system when I heard the clatter of the letter box. On the mat was yet another flyer from the Tip Top Tandoori House and two from Pizza Hut. I picked them up, and went to throw them in the waste paper basket by the hall table when a sound from next door made me stop. It was muffled at first, but becoming louder now. I stood there, rooted to the spot. For it was the sound of suppressed, but anguished weeping. My heart expanded. Poor Bev.

       Chapter Six

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