Excerpts from lost novels
8 April, 2008
I thought I had told you. Honestly, I really thought I’d
told you. She looked away from her desk for a moment,
glancing around the office, noticing the encroaching clouds
in the sky, the lines of desks, the stuffed toy poking
above a divider, but none of the people. Maybe I could just
put the phone down. Why am I bothering to explain?
After a silence, the voice crackled back into life,
quieter, more subdued, slightly despondent. No, you didn’t.
I would have remembered. Well, I’m sorry, she said, pushing
the receiver closer to her mouth and looking back down at
the cheap veneer covering her desk, picking at a chip
knocked out by a previous occupant. I really thought I had
mentioned it. Look, I won’t be that late. I know you said
you were planning a meal, but I will be back in time to eat
it, even if it will be a bit cold. Silence again. Okay. It
might be better after sitting in the pot for a while, the
voice said. Exactly, these things are rarely best eaten
straight away. I’ll let you know how I am getting on, and I
promise I won’t have more than two drinks. Okay, the voice
said, reassured, before cautiously adding: I love you. I
love you too. You know that.
The telephone clicked as the receiver was dropped back into
its cradle. She smiled to herself, and then to a friend who
caught her eye as she passed on her way back from the
kitchen. Green light? Yep. Spoke to him just now. He wasn’t
happy, but he understood. Poor thing is making a special
meal or something. I told him I would be back in time to
eat it. The friend cradled her mug of tea as she listened,
taking a tentative sip. Ah, bless, she said. I reckon you
should either leave fairly early or stay really late. He
will be pleased if you make it back in time, and too tired,
and worried about you, to be anything other than resigned
if you get back at midnight or something. Anything in
between and he will be livid, and you don’t want another
row, do you.
Hours later, she felt a sense of nervousness as she pushed
away from her desk and gathered up her bag and coat. The
clouds had become lost in the evening gloom, and spots of
rain appeared intermittently on the panes of glass. There
was hardly anyone in the office now, with the silence
broken only by the rumble of the air conditioning and the
clicking whirr of a printer churning out endless documents.
The friend was walking down the aisle towards her desk. She
had put on some make-up. Ready? Yep, where are we going
again? To that bar I was telling you about, just up the
road. You’ll love it. She paused. I feel a bit nervous. The
friend laughed. You don’t have to pick up anyone, you know.
Just see what you think. You are in control, and they will
be putty in their hands. After all, you’re gorgeous. But
I’m not even single. Will they let me in? You aren’t
tattooed with “relationship” on your forehead. They only
know what you tell them. And you did say you wanted to see
what is out there. Yes, but… Let’s give it half an hour
and, if you don’t like it, we can go to the usual and have
a drink there.
Cold hung in the air, rain slowly fell through the yellow
light of the street lamps. People on the street walked
quickly towards the Tube station or the nearest bar. After
a brief discussion of their respective days, she lapsed
into silence. I do love you, she thought as she spotted a
man eating alone in a sandwich bar, trying to balance a
newspaper on a tiny table without dipping it in his food. I
do love you. But I’m just not sure. There isn’t…what? Oh, I
don’t know. I want more…excitement, but maybe there isn’t
anything better. God, how clichéd. Admit it, you silly cow.
You just fancy the thrill of a night with someone else.
Someone else to make you feel attractive. Nothing more,
nothing less. And there is nothing wrong with him. You
don’t want to leave him, you just want not to be so
comfortable and responsible. And grown-up. For a while at
least. She laughed quietly. What? The friend was smiling,
eager to hear a joke. No, nothing. I just remembered
something stupid Richard said in a meeting today. Oh, yes,
I can imagine. He is such an idiot. The friend laughed and
side-stepped a growing puddle. Such an idiot.
She stood slightly back from the door as her friend
entered. Are you coming? She paused. And then smiled. He
will be too tired to argue if I come back at midnight.