The Truth Club (30 page)

Marie, Mum, Dad and Diarmuid are staring at us from the hallway. ‘Oh, Aggie,’ they chorus, showering her with kisses. ‘Oh, Aggie, are you all right?’ She waves at them vaguely as the nurses bustle her down the corridor towards her bedroom. ‘We’ll be with you in a minute, Aggie dear,’ they call after her. ‘When they’ve got you nice and settled.’

Then they turn to stare at me and Nathaniel, as if we were the ones who made a run for it. Diarmuid’s eyes are looking particularly steely and, frankly, not that surprised.

Dad takes a few steps towards us and cautiously extends his hand towards Nathaniel. ‘Hello,’ he says, trying to place some order on things. ‘I don’t believe we’ve met.’

‘This is Nathaniel,’ I say. ‘He’s… he’s just a friend.’

Why on earth did I say that? The words have a guilty ring to them. And Fred has started to sniff Marie’s crotch. She pushes him away roughly and says, ‘Where did you find her?’ She sounds as though she suspects that, far from rescuing Aggie, I may have snuck her out of the nursing home just for a lark.

‘In a special place she showed me once. It’s beside the beach, in a sort of clearing down an overgrown path. It’s…’ I stop. They look befuddled enough already.

‘Well done, Sally.’ Diarmuid kisses my cheek and gives Nathaniel a cold glance. He is remaining admirably calm, in the circumstances.

‘Yes, thank God,’ Mum says. ‘None of us would have looked there. Aggie could have been lost… forever.’ At this point she bursts into tears and Dad takes her hand.

‘I tried to phone you, Diarmuid,’ I say gently. ‘But your phone was out of range, so…’

‘So you phoned Nathaniel.’ There is no edge to his voice; it is simply a statement of fact. Everyone looks at me.
Poor Diarmuid.
You can see it on their faces.

I don’t want to say Nathaniel rang me; it sounds too incriminating. ‘I… I needed someone with a car in case we needed to search the roads.’

‘If you can call that thing a car,’ Marie mutters to my mother. ‘It looks like it belongs on a scrap-heap.’

I glare at her. ‘Nathaniel lives down the road from here, and his girlfriend is a… an acquaintance of mine.’ Why didn’t I just lie, like April would have, and say Eloise was one of my closest friends? ‘Her name is Eloise and she makes cabinets.’

‘How nice,’ Marie says, with crisp politeness. ‘Did she join you?’

‘No… she’s…’

‘At a trade fair in Paris,’ Nathaniel completes the sentence for me.

‘Diarmuid’s phone wasn’t out of range when we rang,’ Marie says, rather pointedly. ‘He raced over as soon as he heard.’

I study Diarmuid. I can’t tell what he is feeling; his eyes have that distant look in them again. Where has he been all afternoon? He looks at me without warmth or reproach. When did he learn to hide himself so well from me? Has he always been like this and I just didn’t see it?

Marie darts off down the corridor to check on Aggie. She returns almost immediately. ‘She’s half asleep,’ she says. ‘The nurses say she seems all right… in the circumstances.’ She gives me an accusing look and I stare at her stonily, thinking of how she lied about DeeDee. I feel like screaming at all of them,
DeeDee’s alive – and I don’t care what you say, I want to find her!

‘We’ll have to do something about the lock on the front door,’ Dad says. ‘Apparently Aggie managed to slip it off the hook when no one was looking.’

They start talking about locks and doors. They make it sound as though the solution to Aggie’s situation is to make sure she doesn’t escape again. Diarmuid even looks at the lock, comments on its sturdiness and makes some suggestions about replacements.

‘I’d better go,’ Nathaniel says, when they have been talking about locks for a full ten minutes.

‘Yes,’ Dad agrees swiftly. ‘Thank you for… giving our daughter a lift.’

Suddenly I yearn with all my heart to leave with him. I can’t stand this. They love Aggie; why can’t they show it? Why don’t they want to hear about what happened? It was an adventure – a strange, sad adventure, but an adventure nonetheless. I wish I could tell them how she laughed in the pub, how she told us that she once ran into the ocean with all her clothes on. I wish I could tell them that, for one whole hour this evening, she was happy.

‘Goodbye.’ I glance up at Nathaniel. ‘Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome.’ I rest in the depth of his gaze for the briefest of moments. Then he departs swiftly, with Fred gambolling at his heels.

‘Well done, Sally,’ Dad says when Nathaniel has gone. ‘Well done for finding Aggie.’

‘Yes,’ Marie agrees. ‘It was clever of you to remember that special place. Where is it, exactly?’

I don’t want her to know where it is. I want it to be Aggie’s special place, our secret and Nathaniel’s. ‘Oh, it’s just down the road from here,’ I say vaguely. ‘It’s wasteland now, covered in used condoms.’ Marie wrinkles her nose in disgust.

We all troop in to say goodbye to Aggie. I lean over to kiss her cheek, and when I reach for her hand I feel her give mine a gentle, conspiratorial squeeze. She’s awake, but she doesn’t want their questions.

‘I love you, wild Great-Aunt Aggie,’ I whisper very softly in her ear.

Outside in the car park, Dad jangles his keys. ‘Well, I suppose you two will be off for a drink somewhere.’ He looks at Diarmuid and me hopefully.

‘Or a meal,’ Marie adds quickly. ‘That Indian place down the road is fabulous. You’d love it.’ She is darting excited glances at us. Her voice is quivering with emotion. ‘I had the chicken biriyani. It was almost enough for two, and –’

‘Come on, Marie,’ Mum interrupts. ‘We’d better go.’

They drive off speedily, clearly not wanting to interrupt this tender moment – though why it should be tender I’m not entirely sure. After all, I did arrive here with another man; a man who has a girlfriend called Eloise, but another man nonetheless. Maybe they think this will awaken Diarmuid’s proprietorial side, make him want to fight for me, or maybe they think he’ll want to comfort me after a worrying afternoon.

‘Do you want a lift to the bus stop?’ he asks.

‘Sorry?’ I peer at him like someone trying to read in poor light. ‘I’d drive you home, only I’ve promised to meet someone. In fact, I’m already late.’

Who?
I want to ask.
Who have you promised to meet?
But I don’t.

‘We’re going to revise together. The exams are tomorrow.’

‘Oh, yes – of course.’ I wonder if this person is a man or a woman. I wonder if this person is Becky and he’s lying about the revision, lying about her being in Galway with a new boyfriend.

‘I’m sorry. We must meet up soon to… discuss things.’ He hugs me, kisses me on the nose like I’m a kid sister. ‘Do you want that lift to the bus stop?’ He’s talking so casually, as though nothing has happened. ‘Or I’ll ring you a taxi if you want. Is there a particular company you use? Do you have the number? I’ll pay, of course.’

‘No.’ I manage to smile at him. ‘The bus stop is just down the road. I’d like the walk.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

He gets into his car.

‘Good luck with the exams.’

‘Thanks.’ He smiles at me and waves as he drives off.

At least it’s sunny. I try not to think about anything as I walk towards the bus stop. I look at the flowers in the gardens and feel the fresh breeze on my face.

Diarmuid no longer loves me. Why do I find that so surprising? I have never believed he loves me – not deep down; I’ve always believed he loved Becky more, just as my parents love April best. Maybe he’s with Becky right now.

Why do I think about food so much more than I used to?
Sometimes I spend ten minutes wandering around the kitchen late at night, just looking for something tasty to stuff into my mouth. I go into a newsagent’s and buy a bar of chocolate. I have walked way past my bus stop; I want to walk for miles, but I don’t know where I want to go.
I can get used to this
, I tell myself. I can get used to Diarmuid not loving me. What have I done to show him I love him?

On my way out of the newsagent’s, I notice the darling place has a special offer on my favourite brand of cheese-and-onion crisps. I’m about to grab four packets when I feel someone watching me.

‘Hi, Sally!’

‘Hello, Nathaniel!’ I turn away from the crisps and force my mouth into a big fake smile. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Renting a DVD. What are you doing here?’

‘Oh…’ I hope my voice doesn’t sound too wobbly. ‘I was just… you know… buying some necessities.’ I show him the bar of chocolate.

‘Would you like to eat that chocolate while watching a DVD?’

‘What kind of DVD?’

‘A funny DVD. Something really stupid.’

I think of Eloise. ‘I should really be getting home.’

‘Fred wants you to stay. He says you’ve had a difficult, though exciting, day and could do with a bit of company.’

I look at Fred. He is looking up at me expectantly.

‘That’s very kind of him, but… but I’m tired.’

‘That’s what Fred said, too. He said he thought you’d be tired and could do with a large plate of takeaway fish and chips.’

‘Look, Nathaniel…’ I gaze straight into his swimming-pool eyes. ‘It’s very kind of you – and Fred, of course – but…’

‘Eloise really is in Paris.’

I wasn’t even going to mention Eloise. I was going to say I needed to wash my hair.

‘You look as if you want to cry.’

‘I don’t!’ I protest. ‘I look happy. See, I’m smiling.’ I stretch my lips as far as I can.

‘They might even have spring rolls at the takeaway place. We could ask, anyway.’ Nathaniel grabs a DVD from the shelf and goes to the counter. ‘I don’t share the house with Greta, by the way. I know she kind of frightens you. I’ve borrowed her ground-floor flat. It has its own entrance.’

‘Nathaniel, I’d really –’

‘Maybe you could give me advice on doing up the bathroom.’

‘Look, I only pretend to care about that stuff.’ I sigh. ‘I don’t care about it at all. I’m sorry.’

We leave the store together, and somehow I am getting into Nathaniel’s car, while still discussing why I really should be going home. Fred is panting excitedly in the back seat and Nathaniel is trying to find the nearest takeaway.

‘Diarmuid doesn’t love me any more,’ I say, as Nathaniel tries to remember the right turning. ‘I think he’s seeing someone else, actually. That’s why I should go home. I think I should grieve a bit… in a bath.’

‘Oh, dear.’ Nathaniel grimaces sympathetically. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. I find baths very comforting, especially when I add lavender oil.’

He glances at me, his eyes twinkling. ‘I wasn’t querying the bath, Sally. I was asking about Diarmuid. How do you know he’s seeing someone else?’

‘Well, I don’t actually have any evidence,’ I say slowly. ‘But he doesn’t seem to want to see me. He has a whole other life that he won’t tell me about, and he says he’s at home when he isn’t. He lies, and he’s become very good at it.’

We sit in silence for a while. Then I add, ‘In fact, he’s with someone else right now, and I don’t even know who.’

Nathaniel squeezes my shoulder. ‘It’s weird, isn’t it – all this love stuff? I think we should all be born with a clear instruction manual about who to meet and who to avoid… and who to marry. We’re supposed to keep wanting to find love, even if we’ve been love-mugged and left gasping and can scarcely summon up the enthusiasm to do our laundry.’