Come Back to Me (11 page)

As Chloe had raced home, cold rage had begun to course through her, first a trickle, then a stream, then a torrent so fierce that her whole body seemed to be caught within the swelling, rolling gathering of it. She was glad she had opted for the privacy of the taxi as she tried to calm her breathing, to still her swirling thoughts, to steady herself so she didn't explode before she got through the door.

Once home, she didn't get two paces along the hallway before she saw Alex. He was closing the living-room door.

‘Hey.' He gave her a strained smile. ‘What are you doing home so early?' He began to walk towards her, saw her stricken face, and stopped. ‘Chlo, what's wrong?'

‘I've had enough, Al, that's what.' She pushed past him and went into the kitchen, put her bags and coat on the countertop and ran herself a glass of water, draining it in one go. She turned round to find Alex watching her from a distance,
a strange expression on his face. ‘Mark told me you called him. I want you to tell me what's going on …'

Her voice trailed off as she realised Alex was hovering by the closed living-room door. A jumble of thoughts tumbled over her, none of them good.

‘… Right now,' she finished, slowly.

‘Okay,' Alex answered, his lips still drawn back in that spooked half-smile. ‘Let's just go out for a walk, shall we?' He moved towards her, picked up her coat and held it out to her.

And she knew.

She looked Alex in the eye for a long, drawn-out moment, then took a deep breath, walked down the corridor, towards the living-room door, and stopped. She turned back to Alex, who had followed, and took another long look at him, drinking in the sight of the man she loved, wondering how she would look at him after this.

Then she said, ‘I think I left my scarf in here, I'll just get it,' and had the briefest impression of Alex's shoulders slumping as she pushed open the door.

Chloe was smaller than Julia remembered, her face paler and more pinched. She stood holding the door handle, looking at Julia with pure contempt. Julia didn't know what to say, but still tried to speak, in a quavering voice.

‘Hello.'

Chloe just continued to stare in silence. They were frozen until Alex came up behind Chloe.

‘It's not what you think,' he said.

Julia stood there uncomfortably as Chloe whirled around to him. ‘What are you, Alex? A walking cliché? In fact, who the hell are you? You're certainly not the man I thought you were. How – how dare you!'

Then Julia watched in horror as Chloe slapped his cheek and started banging her fists on his chest as she shrieked at him. Alex was trying to grab her wrists while dodging blows, telling her to calm down.

The explosion didn't last long but it seemed to have consumed Chloe. She stepped back from Alex, took one last look at Julia, her face crumpled with pain, then stormed out through the doorway.

Alex was motionless for a second. When the front door banged shut, he jumped, but it seemed to start him into action. He turned around without a glance back and raced after his wife, leaving Julia standing there in shock, wondering what on earth she should do now.

Mark had waited. He'd seen the embrace between Julia and Alex from a distance before they closed the door. Then, as he'd been about to head towards the station, he'd seen the taxi turn into the opposite end of the street and watched in horror as Chloe alighted from it. What an absolute bastard he was for leaving that note on her desk, he berated himself.

Before his train of thought was even completed she was coming out the door again, and he could see how stricken she was. She stopped for a second on the steps to the house, clutching at the railing, her body heaving, and he was heading towards her before he'd even thought about it, calling her name.

She looked up, startled and angry. He could see the snail-trails of tear tracks on her cheeks. As he reached her, she just had time to say, ‘I don't know what the hell you think you're
doing here,' before the front door banged open and Alex was there.

Mark saw straight away the storm brewing on Alex's face, but it was too late to do anything. Alex didn't even seem to see Chloe, as he marched past her, pulled his arm back, and sent the force of his fist crashing towards Mark's nose.

As Mark instinctively turned, the fist caught his cheek instead, which instantly began to throb.

‘That's assault,' he spat at Alex as he righted himself, touching his cheek gingerly.

Alex still towered over him, hands on hips, taking short breaths through his nostrils, looking as if he'd like to do the same thing again. ‘Well, I guess I'll see you in court then,' he retorted, glaring.

The two men stared at each other for a moment, jaws tensed, the atmosphere a lit fuse burning slowly towards explosion.

Chloe's petite form suddenly appeared between them. She pushed Alex away, her small hands against his heaving chest. ‘What the hell are you doing, Alex?'

Alex looked startled. He took a step back. ‘Chloe, I –'

‘Just go away,' she screamed at him. ‘Isn't there someone waiting for you in there – in
our
house,' she added, her hand gesturing towards their front door.

Alex looked from Chloe to their front door, then again, as though trying to make an impossible decision. ‘Fuck!', he growled, and charged back up the steps to the house, slamming the front door behind him.

Mark and Chloe were glued to the spot.

‘Chloe, I'm sorry …' Mark began feebly.

‘I hope it hurt,' she replied, and strode off down the road.

Mark hurried after her, still wincing as he touched his cheek. ‘Where are you going?' he asked as he caught up with her.

She whirled round. ‘I don't know, Mark, okay?'

‘Let me buy you a drink.'

The bitter laugh caught in her throat. ‘You have got to be kidding.'

‘Chloe, it feels like minus twenty out here, plus you need to calm down, and I want to apologise. Come on.' He gave her a push towards the pub, half-expecting her to turn on her heel, but she went grudgingly with him.

 

Once inside they found a booth tucked away in a corner, and Chloe slid into it, aware that her hands were trembling, while Mark went to get drinks. Only when he came back with two gin and tonics did she remember that she wasn't meant to be drinking. One won't hurt, she said to herself; however, after the first sip she felt sick and pushed it away.

Mark was watching her but she couldn't think of anything to say, so she let him, and swirled the liquid in her glass, staring at it.

Eventually he said, ‘It might not be what you think.'

She looked up at Mark and rolled her eyes. ‘I'm not that dumb, Mark. And since when did you give a shit about my marriage?'

‘Okay, sorry. Just trying to help.'

Chloe gave a brief snort. ‘Yes, that poisonous note on my desk was very helpful.'

Mark hung his head for a moment then looked up at her again. ‘I was a complete shit for doing that, I'm sorry.'

‘So what did Alex say to you on the phone?' As she waited she could feel the tension within her rising to boiling point.

Mark shrugged. ‘He just asked for Julia's number.'

‘How did he sound?'

‘Honestly? Pretty stressed out.'

‘Stressed out with all the lying, I'd imagine.' Chloe thought of all the duped wives she'd seen traipsing through her office. She couldn't believe she was one of them now. ‘I'd never in a million years have believed that Alex could do this to me.'

Mark sighed. ‘Chloe, you know I can't stand the guy, and that was before he punched me, so I don't know why I'm saying this – but what exactly has Alex done to you? Because if he needed to phone me to get Julia's number, I doubt he's having an affair with her.'

‘It could have been an old affair,' she replied, but his comment had penetrated the fug of her thoughts.

‘True,' Mark agreed. ‘But at the end of the day, you won't know until you ask him, will you?'

When Alex stormed back into the lounge again, his expression was thunderous.

‘I'm sorry …' Julia began, unsure of what else to say.

He tried a smile. It didn't come off. ‘Not your fault.'

‘You really love her,' she said quietly, feeling a fresh pang of pain, as though she hadn't quite believed this could be true.

‘Yes.' He moved across to her, holding her shoulders, watching her until she looked back up at him. She thought he was going to shake her, but instead he just said, ‘Oh, Amy, why the hell didn't you come back?'

She swung away from him so he couldn't see her expression. ‘It was complicated,' she said. ‘After Dad died.'

He ignored her, his voice becoming strident. ‘I saw your mum, Amy – at the funeral. She was a wreck. She had no one.' She felt herself flinch but if he noticed he didn't care,
his anger was leading the way now. ‘She said she thought you blamed yourself – that was why you stayed away – but how could you –'

Julia swung around, her voice rising to a shout. ‘You think it was easy for me, staying away? Do you think I was sitting someplace sipping a cocktail, painting my nails; that I couldn't be bothered to go home? It
broke
me, Alex. I thought I'd been broken before that, but no – it changed every thing … So don't you
dare
insinuate that you know what it was like for me …'

‘And do you know what it was like for
me
, Amy?' He barked every word at her. ‘I made a promise to you. I kept it for
years
. I heard nothing. Your mother didn't want to talk to me after the funeral. I was in limbo. I tried everything. I even thought you were dead. It took
years
, Amy, before I moved on, and it was a slow and painful decision … and now you walk back into my life, and I'm the one who has to feel guilty as all hell that I broke that promise – but where were
you
, Amy? Tell me that.'

His words had drained the fight from her. She sat down on his sofa and put her head in her hands. Then took them away in surprise. They were wet. She was crying.

Alex seemed drained too, and slumped next to her. He put his hand on her shoulder, and rubbed it as she sobbed.

Eventually, she whispered into the silence, ‘So, what do we do now?'

She heard Alex take a deep breath. ‘I have no idea,' he said. ‘But before anything else, there's something I really have to tell you.'

She looked at the printouts he'd got from the internet. As he talked to her, he took hold of her hands, stroking them. In response her memories slowly began to unlock themselves. Long-buried images poured out like unstoppable sand, filling her head with fresh pain. His voice became distant.

She was in the darkness again, with voices overhead. She could hear them plainly, as if it were still happening. She could see them looking down at her; blurry faces with blackened eyes. Noxious breath as they leaned in, staring. She was disorientated at the suddenness of it all, but as the panic kicked in and hands came towards her she had to get away …

She suddenly jolted. She had to move, right now. She pushed the hands away, all her focus on the door.

‘AMY! AMY!'

The hands were still there. She flailed and kicked desperately until she realised she was just fighting the air.

She blinked, trying to focus.

Alex was watching her, horrified. She was so embarrassed that now her tears came in a torrent of release, and she heaved herself over to a chair and folded into it, sucking in oxygen.

She felt a glass pushed into her hand, and took sips of cool water, beginning to feel calmer.

‘Amy, Jesus …' Alex was saying.

‘Sorry,' she mumbled.

‘It's okay.' He crouched near her but he didn't touch her again.

She thought back to what he'd told her. ‘You mean it's happening now?'

‘Yes, I've checked it all out. It's almost over, I think. It's quite high profile over there.'

And then she realised what had to be done.

‘I have to go back,' she told him, shocked at herself as she heard her own words.

Alex turned his face away from her, towards the door, saying nothing. For some reason his silence only strengthened her resolve. ‘I have to, Al. I need to. Confronting this could be a way for me to get a grip on my life again,' she told him fiercely. ‘It might be the only way.'

Still Alex was silent. Still he kept his face turned away.

She paused, bit her lip, then murmured, ‘I don't know if I can do it alone.'

She kept watching the back of his head, and saw it beginning to shake. ‘This is crazy,' he murmured, and then swung
around towards her, so she could clearly see his pain and confusion. ‘I'm sorry, I can't just –'

‘Okay.' She got up quickly. ‘I understand.' She shoved the water back at him and he grabbed it as it sloshed over onto his hand. ‘You've done enough.'

She ran into the passageway and pulled open his front door, then moved as fast as she could away from him. But she could hear him behind her, keeping pace, and he was saying her name – her real name – again and again, until it was a chant keeping time with her footsteps. Each time she heard ‘Amy' it was as though another piece of her re-emerged, twisting and writhing.

Eventually, she couldn't run any more. She sank down onto the road, spent.

A second later, Alex crouched down in front of her. He took a deep breath.

‘Amy, this is important to me too. So if you
really
want to do this …' He paused and took a long look at the sky, drawing in a deep breath that she echoed, holding on to the air in her lungs, feeling it swelling, burning, eager to be gone.

‘… I will find a way to come with you,' he said eventually, looking back down at her.

And he put his hand over hers.

It was as though she had been drowning for ten years, and at last there was a hand outstretched within sight.