Richard was sitting at the kitchen table, while Eleanor was getting the children ready for bed, calculating and recalculating, scrawling the figures on the back of an envelope, hoping that if he tried again, adjusted this column or that, they might tell him something different. But the answer was always the same: there was not enough money. He was half aware of his foot tapping, quicker and quicker, against the chair.
He was beginning to see how crude and optimistic his plan for the house was. He hadn’t taken into account the reality of their lives: broken radiators, Amy and Dominic’s wedding, dentistry, outgrown shoes. Every month, he told himself that these things were anomalies and they would start saving properly next month, but then there would be something else and he didn’t know if it would ever slow down or stop. They had been in the house over six months and they were no closer to making it their own.
He thought about charging Zoe more rent, but apart from the fact that it was clearly unfair and he would find the conversation intolerable, they couldn’t afford to lose her. He didn’t know if they could find anyone else for the basement. They could scale back the plans for the house, but they would only do this once and they had to get it right. It needed to be perfect, not just for him and Eleanor but for future unknowable buyers.
He heard Eleanor on the stairs and put the envelope under his laptop, despite knowing that his scrawls wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else. She had forgiven him for what he had said about meeting the neighbours, yet something about the argument had stuck. They were more polite to each other, and less honest. If he tried to talk to her about any of this, she would only become more negative about the house.
‘How was that?’ he asked.
‘Not too bad tonight, actually. They both went down pretty quickly.’
‘It all sounded very quiet.’
‘I think I’ve come up with a solution to Rosie’s thing about shampoo. I made her hair stand up in spikes, when the shampoo was on, and I showed her in the mirror.’ Eleanor smiled. ‘It really made her laugh and she started pretending to be a monster. So then we did a shark’s fin and antlers and Isobel was laughing too . . . They were being really sweet.’ She went into the kitchen. ‘I just wish they were like that all the time.’
She got a frying pan out of the cupboard. ‘Oh God, I forgot garlic. I’ll have to go out.’ She sounded almost serene.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, I won’t be a minute.’
‘Do we really need it?’ He came up and stood behind her. ‘What are you making?’
‘It’s fine. I don’t mind going to the shop.’
‘But it’s late – just make it without, or use extra chilli or something.’
She was putting on her coat in the living room. ‘I really don’t mind going. It won’t take long.’
He opened the fridge. ‘Come on, Eleanor, let’s just put something together out of here.’
‘I don’t mind!’
He started pulling things out of the fridge. ‘We’ve got loads of food. We could have pasta – or an omelette! Why don’t you just stay in the house?’
They looked at each other for a moment and then she hurried into the hall. ‘I’m not going to be long!’ she called and he heard the door slam. He went back into the living room and watched her standing, just in front of the bay window, face tilted towards the sky. She turned round and caught his eye. They looked at each other and she walked on.
Richard sat back at the kitchen table, got his envelope out from under the computer and stared at it. He had to make the house how he wanted and Eleanor had to like it, because they didn’t even have enough money to move. He tore up the envelope and put it in the bin. Then he started looking at carpenters online, trying not to worry about the amount of time Eleanor was away from the house.
‘You were gone a while,’ he said, when he heard the door go.
‘Oh, they didn’t have it at the corner shop. I had to go to the Kingsland Road.’
‘For garlic?’
‘It wasn’t a problem.’ She went back into the kitchen and put an apron on.
She made supper and Richard made plans for the house. ‘Do you want to watch something?’ he asked, after they’d eaten.
Watching television together now seemed like an event. They used to do it every night in the old house. He remembered Eleanor’s head pressing into his stomach and it felt like a different universe.
‘I’m not feeling too good actually. I might go out and get some fresh air.’
‘Eleanor, you’ve just been out!’
‘We should leave the kitchen free for Zoe.’ She got up and started clearing the plates.
‘We’ll just shut the double doors. Or we’ll watch something on my laptop upstairs.’
‘I’ve got a headache, Richard. I don’t feel well. I need the fresh air. Please!’
‘I really don’t see how fresh air is going to help. Why don’t you just rest? Go to bed early?’
‘It does help. It helps to be out of the house.’
‘That doesn’t make any sense. Why won’t you just rest?’
‘I don’t care if it makes any sense or not! It’s true.’
He listened to the door go and went up to his study. He thought he might at least get some work done on his dissertation, but he was listless and subdued. Eleanor’s absence nagged at him; he hated the thought of her alone, wandering the streets in the dark.
It would be easier when the house was complete; she would be happier, he would be more relaxed. They could properly settle and finally find something that would help her headaches. He shut down his dissertation and made plans for the colours of skirting boards instead.
When he heard Eleanor come in, he was absorbed in coat stands and heated towel rails. He came down at ten, to get a glass of water, and saw Eleanor sitting in the bay window. It was open a crack and her face was pressed up to the glass.
‘Eleanor, what are you doing? You’re going to freeze!’
‘It’s fine. I’m perfectly warm,’ she said, without turning towards him, though he could see the reflection of her face in the glass. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. He turned round and went back upstairs.