With bad thoughts rattling through my head, and wondering what else might break loose, I drove straight down the M5 to Worcester, missing gear changes the most notable features of my journey.
Coming up for noon, I hoped to catch Rocco on his lunch break.
My Satnav told me that ContraMed was close to the cathedral. I parked in a nearby multi-storey, bunged three hours on the car, and crossed over the busy dual carriageway to College Road. Historic three storey buildings swept around College Green like wise old owls. Among the solicitors and accountants, the offices of ContraMed.
I stood outside, took out my phone and dialled Rocco’s number. He answered, sounding bright and pleased to hear from me.
“Are you free for lunch?” Stunned by the revelation that Heather Bowen had been leant on, my voice contained a strained, shaky note.
“Erm— not really.”
“That’s a pity.”
“Sorry, Thursday madness. Cock-up after cock-up.”
I glanced skywards, wondering which office he worked in. It was too much to hope that he’d glance out of the window and see me standing there. “Never mind. Another time.” I wanted to sound cool, not brave and disappointed.
“Molly, has something happened?”
“I have to talk to you.”
“Where are you?”
“In the street, outside. Look.”
A head popped up, startled and wide-eyed. “Bloody hell. Be with you in a minute.”
I love surprises. Rocco didn’t. I could tell straightaway that I’d struck a bum note. His jollity was too forced, the smile too stretched. A quick peck on the cheek and then, with one hand crooked under my elbow, he propelled me away from the office and back in the direction of the main road and Edward Elgar’s statue.
“What’s happened then?”
I looked at him, wondering exactly the same. Were we only in tune when we were sharing a bed, talking about the dead? Would it be impossible for us to go on a date, to have dinner, shop together, share friends? The visit to Hereford cathedral seemed an age ago and look how that had ended?
“I’ll tell you the details later. If you’re not too busy.” I loathed the snarky vibe in my tone.
“Sure,” he said, returning to his laid back, ‘no offence taken’ persona.
“At mine.”
“I’m honoured.” He really looked it. His eyes lit up with pleasure.
“I’ll cook.”
“I’ll bring a bottle. Apologies, but I really have to go.” He dropped a kiss on the top of my head and walked swiftly back. I watched him all the way, right up to the second he bounded up the steps and disappeared from view.
At least he worked where he said he did.
With three hours on the clock, and nothing in the fridge, I walked straight to the nearest food shop in the centre of town. It was so hot outside and so cool inside, I fancied climbing into the nearest freezer.
Unable to get the vision of Childe having a quietly firm word in Heather’s ear, I drifted down the aisles, not really thinking what I was doing or what Rocco would enjoy eating. I scooped prawns into my basket and put them back. I picked up a ready meal and put that back too. Playing it safe, I collected lots of different salads, bread, chicken, expensive butter, and fresh coriander because I liked it. For no reason at all, I added a pot of cream. For every reason in the world, I selected a bottle of white wine and one of red. I didn’t know whether or not Rocco drank wine. I had a bottle of vodka at home and some beer so he could have them if he preferred. It never occurred to me that he would drive home. Tonight, he was mine. I needed him.
Staggering out of the shop, I heard a voice shout my name. I turned in surprise.
“Edie?” I barely recognised Chancer’s wife. Rail thin, big-eyed, the elusive vulnerability that had made her so attractive was now replaced by tragic fragility. At any second, she looked as if she might shatter before my eyes. Dust to dust and ashes to ashes.
“Yes,” she said shyly, grateful almost. “I’m so sorry to hear your terrible news.”
“Thank you.” I touched her bare arm, trying not recoil. She was all pale bone and sinew and I wondered if she were ill. If this was what marriage break-up did to people, I was glad to be unattached. “Where are the children?”
“With Mum and Dad.” She leant in close. There was a sour odour on her breath. “You’ve heard about me and Tris?”
“I have. I’m sad for you.”
“Oh Molly,” she said, big eyes swimming with tears. “I don’t suppose you have time for a coffee.”
“Actually, I do.”