Hope Close by Tina Seskis

Author:Tina Seskis [Tina Seskis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-23T16:00:00+00:00

PART TWO

OCTOBER

Chapter 31

LAYLA

The six o’clock news was just starting when Charles phoned, saying an urgent client meeting had come up and that he wouldn’t be home for dinner after all. Layla tried to ignore the voice that whispered that that seemed like a very late client meeting, and that Charles wasn’t to be trusted anyway – that he had used those exact ruses when she’d been the other woman, although she hadn’t even known it at the time. It, whatever ‘it’ was, had been going on for months, but somehow Layla hadn’t noticed before Henry went away to school, five weeks and three days ago. Now the house roared in her ears, trumpeting its emptiness. The only thing that stopped it was the wine.

Layla took her glass and went into the front room and gazed out at the neighbour’s gates for the umpteenth time. They were black and solid and impenetrable – and there was something about the fact that she couldn’t see anything of his existence that made her more curious than she might otherwise have been. He was young, about her age probably. He was rude. He had eyes that reeked of mystery. He’d been alone with her son. She’d barely seen him since.

Layla returned to the kitchen, opened the double-doored larder fridge, stared at the tuna steaks she’d marinated for dinner and which she now had no intention of cooking. She debated whether to throw them away or leave them there for days to go off, make her point through the stench of rotting fish. In the end she lost interest in the dilemma, and instead took out the wine bottle from the fridge door and topped up her glass. Feeling warm and dreamy inside, she drifted into the living room, sat down on the still-plumped cushions of the enormous truffle-coloured sofa. The imprint she made was evidence of her existence, proof of her family’s absence. She couldn’t be bothered to turn on the TV. She drank the wine. She got up. She looked out of the window again, noticed Ted’s van wasn’t there. She thought about calling Nicole to ask her over to share a bottle of Shab-lee (as Nicole would insist on calling it, in a mock-posh accent). They’d got together a few times since their impromptu, ultimately boozy lunch the other week, but Layla wasn’t sure she was in the mood for Nicole tonight. In the end she decided against it. She sat down again, wondered if Charles had remembered that it was her birthday next week. He hadn’t mentioned anything, and so neither had she, although normally she would have, so that Henry could get her something. She banged her knees together repeatedly, so they thudded dully, the faint echo in sync with her frustration. She jumped up once more and went upstairs, looked out of her bedroom window this time. The elegance of the Georgian panes was lost on her as she stared blankly out, wondering yet again who her new neighbour was, what nasty little secret he was hiding.

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