The next day is sunny and once Jenny has headed off with Sarah across the pebbles – subtly encouraged to do so by myself – I text Ricardo and ask him to phone me when he gets up. Nearly an hour later, he finally calls.
“Hello babe,” I say. “You’re late today.”
“It’s the weekend,” he says. “And I was tired.”
“It’s Thursday,” I point out.
“Well, it’s my weekend.”
“Sure. Look, I need to talk to you. I did a bad thing.”
“Really bad?”
“Yeah, pretty.”
“If you sleep with someone I don’t think I want to know,” he says.
I frown. “That’s a joke right?” I say. It’s hard to read his voice this morning.
“Why? Did you?” he asks.
“Well, no,” I say. And that’s it. The decision to not tell him has apparently been made – just like that. At least I’m not lying. I didn’t sleep with anybody. And after all, what decision was there to be made? It’s not as if there’s any reasonable way to tell your boyfriend that you have been half sucked-off twice, once by your ex and once by a random stranger.
“OK. So what you do?” Ricardo asks.
“I intercepted a letter.”
“Sorry?”
“I stole a letter. To Jenny. From Nick.”
“Ahh. What did it say?”
“Nothing really. It just has his new address and phone number. Now he’s out of prison.”
“OK, so?”
“Well, do you think I should tell Jenny or not?”
“Tell her that you steal her letter?”
“No. I mean, do you think I should give her the letter?”
“I don’t know,” he says.
“You sound funny. Are you OK?”
“Yes.”
“But you … don’t have any opinion?”
“No. I just wake up.”
“Maybe you should wake up more and call me back later,” I say, starting to feel annoyed at his terse attitude.
“Do what you want,” he says. “Give it, don’t give it.”
“Ricardo!” I whine.
“Well …” he says.
“But if I give it to her she might get back into that whole thing of giving Sarah to Nick.”
“Then don’t give her,” he says.
“You’re not being very helpful today,” I point out.
“Look, babe …” he says with an audible sigh. “Either you agree we should take Sarah, or you let her contact Nick.”
“How can it be that straightforward for you?”
“It’s not so complicated either,” he says. “Either we agree to take her or we don’t. If not, I agree with Jenny that Nick isn’t the worst thing that can happen.”
“Well that’s because you don’t know him,” I say.
“Look … just do what you want,” he says.
“Why can’t we discuss this?” I say. “Why does every phrase have to be the definitive answer?”
“No you’re not. You’re saying, ‘do it,’ and then ‘don’t do it,’ That’s not a discussion.”
“Because you don’t listen maybe.”
“I don’t listen?”
“Yeah. You do what you want. So I’m bored with the talking.”
I take a deep breath before replying. “OK babe,” I say. “So, what do you think?”
“I tell you already,” he says.
“Then tell me again. This time I’ll listen.”
“I think you tell Jenny that if anything happen, we will look after Sarah.”
“Right.”
“Now I have to go.”
“But we’ve only been talking for five minutes.”
“Yes, but a car arrive outside.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“That’s nice. Very nice. Thanks.”
“Well, we never have visitors up there. Who is it?’
“I don’t know.”
“Look, why don’t we have nice long talks anymore? And why don’t you call me Chupy anymore?”
“Really Chupy. You’re just grumpy today. And I have to go.”
“And don’t just Chupy me to get rid of me.”
“You see. Grumpy.”
“You know what’s happening here?” I say. “We’re drifting apart. This isn’t good.”
“Yes babe.”
“Yes?! If we carry on like this we’ll end up splitting up.”
“And that’s my fault?”
“Well, no, it’s nobody’s fault but …”
“OK, talk tomorrow. I go now. Goodbye.”
“Bastard!” I mutter as the line goes dead. And then I see Jenny hesitating beyond the bay window.
“How long have you been there?” I ask once I have slid the window open.
“About a minute,” she says. “Why?”
“No reason.”
“Have you two been arguing?”
“No.”
“You so have. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Fine. Come on inside Sarah. It’s OK. Mark’s just grumpy.”
“I am not grumpy.”
“OK. Mark isn’t grumpy,” she says rolling her eyes.