Lover by Anna Raverat

Lover by Anna Raverat

Author:Anna Raverat
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux


25

“It’s grief,” says the therapist, later that afternoon.

“Well, that’s a relief, I thought it was cancer,” I say, only half joking. I can tell right away that Elisabeth knows a lot more than I do about where I am. Even filling her in on the backstory seems to introduce a bit of perspective. I lose it as soon as I leave, but for a few minutes, sitting on the wide yellow armchair opposite Elisabeth, it felt better.

* * *

When I get home the girls are clingy and my parents are stiff and formal, which means they’ve had another row. Apparently, Your Father went out for a drink with Your Estranged Husband, and this did not go well.

“What did you expect?” I say to both of them, taking in the state of the kitchen. They’ve been staying with us twice a year for ten years and evidently still don’t know where the pans go. The girls have had beans on toast and ask if they can watch TV. I say yes so that I can hear about Adam.

“What did you say to him?” I ask my father.

“I told him the problem wasn’t so much that he’d been a lying shit, but that he’d been a weak man.”

“And how did he take that?” I ask.

My mother rolls her eyes and I imagine Adam storming out of the pub.

“He didn’t say anything.”

I picture Adam sitting on a pub stool, chastened, and can’t help feeling sorry for him.

“People do get over things like this,” I say.

“They do,” agrees my father. My mother remains silent.

We eat Indian food. If Adam were here he’d be fussing about turmeric staining the wood, but Adam’s not here.

“Your Father and I think we should come and live nearby,” says my mother, “to help.”

“But what about your work?” I say, alarmed.

“I should retire soon and anyway you need help,” she says. “I feel I ought to. It’s my duty.”

“Actually, Mum, I was going to ask Noreen,” I say. “Why don’t I go round after supper and see what she says? There might not be any need to uproot you and Dad.”

Adam texts to say he’s coming to collect some of his things. It’s been nine days since he went away and although we’ve been on the phone a lot, I haven’t actually seen him since that walk on the common. I think it’s better if I avoid him this evening, especially if he’s just had a row with my father, so I go to the supermarket.

Afterward I call in to see Noreen. Perhaps she sees in my face that something is wrong because she closes the door to the living room, where her husband is watching the news, sits me down at her kitchen table, makes tea, and gets the biscuit tin out. Noreen takes my hands and holds them while I tell her what’s happened. Her hands are small and pale, dotted with age spots and very soft. She listens attentively, nodding to show she understands, and when I



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