Isabel and Neil maintained a pretence of togetherness. They were civilly distant with each other, never touching, careful not to impinge on each other's space. The distance between them made Isabel realise how far they had grown apart. Or how far she had grown away from him. They lay at night, each hunched under their bit of duvet, an unspannable abyss between them.
They didn't discuss divorce. It was not unusual among ex-pat couples for the wife and children to stay behind when the husband was posted to somewhere the wife considered unsuitable. But it was also known that marriages often didn't survive the separation.
The interview came closer. Isabel read as much as she could and got Angela to ask her test questions.
'Now Isabel,' she'd say, squinting at the book of sample questions. 'What is the value of studying a text in depth rather than just reading it for pleasure?'
And when Isabel answered, Angela would be very impressed regardless of what the answer was.
'You'll have letters after your name in no time at all, just like Adam.'
'Thanks, but I think I'll settle for getting in first.' The trouble was, Isabel had no idea whether what she was doing or saying was right. She'd looked up sample essays on the net, and she thought hers seemed roughly comparable, but there was no way of knowing for certain. The interview was only a few days away.
Angela lowered her voice. 'It's funny about those letters. I mean, Adam's supposed to be a doctor, but he's ever so squeamish about blood. And he doesn't seem to like talking about illness at all.'
'It's not the same sort of doctor,' Isabel said, thinking about poor Adam listening politely to Angela's litany of illness.
Speaking of which, did I tell you that my niece's daughter's gone down with rinderpest?'
'Rinderpest? That's something sheep get, isn't it? Or maybe it's cattle.'
'Well I'm sure that's what she said.' Angela looked put out.
'It sounds very serious, whatever it is,' Isabel said, and Angela brightened. She opened her mouth to start telling Isabel about the rinderpest, when the shop doorbell rang.
'Adam!'
He stood in the doorway, browner and leaner. 'I heard there was an emergency.'
Isabel frowned. 'Not as far as I know.'
'An interview?'
'What?' She turned to Angela who flapped her hands.
'I only sent a postcard saying you'd got an interview and had to write essays and everything for it, and how we didn't know what to do.'
'Oh, Angela,' Isabel said, tom between annoyance and being touched that Angela had cared enough to bother. 'You shouldn't have.'
Angela bustled off to make him a cup of tea while Adam took his things into the flat upstairs.
When he came back down Isabel said, her face scarlet with embarrassment, 'I hope you haven't really come back because of a stupid interview.'
'I felt like coming back early.' Adam ran tanned fingers through his hair and shook his head. 'To be honest, I was bored. There were loads of old friends staying, but either they were married and treating it as a second honeymoon or they were chasing after chalet girls.'
'I can't imagine you chasing after chalet girls,' Isabel said.
'Oh, I've had my moments,' Adam said. 'But last night, we'd had a good day on the mountain, and had gone out to a club. And I looked around at all those people, everybody talking and drinking and having a good time, and I just wanted to be back here.' He looked at her sideways. 'Pathetic, or what?'
'Don't be silly. No one who knows you could ever think you're pathetic.' She traced a figure of eight on the counter with her fingertip. 'I'm glad you're here,' she said.
Angela spent the next few days clucking over Adam, bringing him cakes and doughnuts to fatten him up. Isabel kept her distance, feeling suddenly shy. She decided against letting him look at her essay attempts or coach her, although Adam had gently offered to help.
You see, I want to know I can do it myself, without someone else helping me. Pulling the strings. It sounds stupid but -'
'It's not stupid. Don't worry, you'll be fine.' He paused. 'I expect your husband's been helping you.'
'No.' Isabel hadn't even mentioned the interview to Neil.
'Oh?'
'Neil's going to Ghana in the next few weeks,' she said.
'And you?'
'I'm not going.'
Adam played with a roll of sellotape, turning it over and over in his long thin fingers. 'That sounds a major decision.'
'Oh, no,' Isabel said. 'There's been no decision. It's just happened, and I suppose neither of us cares enough to stop it.'
'Would you like to?'
She shook her head. 'No. I think things have been over for us for a long time, we just didn't recognise it.'
'That's sad.'
'It is sad.' It should have felt strange talking to Adam about this, but it seemed quite natural. He's a good listener, she thought, even listening about Angela's niece's daughter and her rinderpest, which turned out to be ringworm.
'Do you know, I've felt so much sadness and unhappiness over the last few months that it's as if it's all been washed out of me. Now we are separating I feel, well, nothing. It's odd.'
Adam pushed up the sleeves of his sweater. Isabel could see that the cuffs of his shirt underneath were just starting to fray. 'Are you actually separating?' he said, not looking at her.
'Yes. We haven't said as much, but this is the end, and we both know it. Not that we've discussed divorce. Neil's family don't “do” divorce.' She pulled a face.
'Doesn't that leave you in limbo?'
'I don't mind. It's a halfway house, still safe, but I'm able to look outside and see what's going on.'
'You mean, all the constraints of marriage and none of the pluses? Like a bird that carries on hopping round the bottom of the cage even though the door has been opened.'
'You make it sound dreadful.'
'It wouldn't be my choice.'
'That's easy for you to say.'
'Maybe. It's like after a shipwreck. You can see the shore, but you're worried about striking out on your own so you're still clinging onto the wreckage. You know the wreckage isn't going to help you, in fact, you're doomed if you stay, but pushing off and leaving it is scary.' He sighed. 'I can only speak from my experience. When I was trading, I knew it was killing me, but I couldn't give up the lifestyle, the buzz, all that money. And each day I got more and more scared, and because I was scared I clung on all the tighter. And the shore got further and further away.'
'What happened?'
'I was pushed, in the end. No wonder, I was a wreck myself.'
'Did you sink?'
Adam looked away from her, his grey eyes unfocused as if seeing something other than the bookshelves. When he spoke his voice was low. 'Yes, for a little while. I did sink. And that was hard. But it was better than having it looming over me.' He turned to her and smiled.
'But you're stronger than I was then. You'll be fine.'
'What d'you mean?' Isabel didn't feel strong, she felt limp and confused.
'Look at what you've achieved. You've got a job, a home, plans for the future. And how long have you been back in this country? Six months? Seven?'
'I've also wrecked my marriage and become notorious in the process.'
Adam laughed. 'At least you've been doing things and not sitting at home weeping, waiting for something to happen.'
They stopped talking as a customer came into the shop and started looking through the gardening books, eventually choosing one called The New Gardener.
New gardens, new beginnings. I suppose it is spring, after all, Isabel thought as she put the book in a bag. She could see that Adam was right, that she was clinging onto the wreckage, but it was hard to push away.
- ooo -
Her interview was late the next morning. Angela gave her a lucky rabbit's foot that had belonged to a great aunt before she'd been squashed by a collapsing wall on her way to bingo. Isabel's lips twitched as she met Adam's eyes.
'I can't guarantee this will be as lucky as the rabbit's foot, but I hope you like it.' He held out a small tissue-wrapped package. Inside was a delicate silver bangle.
'It's beautiful.' She slipped it on her wrist. 'Thank you.'
He smiled. 'Good luck.'
The interview wasn't as terrifying as she'd thought it would be. One of the two interviewers, a young woman, seemed more nervous than she was, coughing and shifting on her seat. The other was a man of about her own age who spoke very slowly, his sentences trailing off into nothing. Isabel told them about what she'd read recently, her favourite authors, why she wanted to read English.
'I made the wrong choice when I was nineteen,' she said, twisting Adam's silver bangle round her wrist. 'This is what I want to do.'
- ooo -
Neil's taxi came late, so his departure was awkward. The children drifted off to watch Sunday-morning television leaving Isabel and Neil loitering in the hall, uncertain what to say. If they had anything to say at all, Isabel thought. All those years when she'd believed him to be her best friend, the one person she'd thought she could talk to about anything. And now there was nothing.
The taxi beeped outside.
'About time too,' Neil said, picking up his case.
The children rushed in, Michael leading, Katie at his shoulder, to hug and kiss their father goodbye.
'Bring me back a present!' Katie shouted.
'And what should I bring?'
'An elephant!'
'But it'll never fit in my case. There now, poppet,' he said, detaching Katie. 'Let Daddy go or I'll miss my plane.'
'Good,' Michael said, but he let go of his father.
They stood in the doorway and watched him carry his bags to the taxi. Neil opened the taxi door and paused for a moment, his head lifted as if he could already scent the warm Ghanaian air, and for a second she recognised the young man she'd married, the man in the photograph that Justine had admired all that time ago. Then he got in and closed the door.
On impulse Isabel ran out to the taxi, and banged on his window.
'Neil,' she said, not knowing what she was going to say until she said it, but when she'd said it the last piece of the jigsaw fell into place. He wound the window down. 'Neil, was Justine the first?'
Neil turned away from her, but not before she read the guilt in his eyes.
'Goodbye, Isabel.'
- ooo -
Isabel was unpacking books in the stock room. It was her least favourite job, wrestling with brown sticky tape and the foam squiggles used as protective packing. Not only did the squiggles escape the boxes at every opportunity, they would stick to her hair and clothes. She picked a broken one, shaped like a question mark, off her cardigan and studied it.
Why, why, why?
Why hadn't she known?
Because I'm stupid, because I trusted him, because he had the opportunity. Because, because, because.
I'm not very good at adultery, she thought. And as clearly as if he was beside her she heard Patrick saying 'Practice makes perfect'. She could picture him saying it too, patting the bed beside him. But I don't want sex without love, all the time fighting against caring, she said to him in her head. I don't want to have a bit on the side, I don't want to be a bit on the side. A bit on the side, where nothing mattered and no one got hurt and everyone behaved like adults.
Was that what Neil wanted? Too late to find out now, he was in a plane on his way to Ghana. She ripped open a box of travel books, remembering all the nights when Neil had lain on top of her, squashing the life out of her, and she had let him because it was easier to say yes than have an argument. Why had she let him? Why hadn't she realised? How could she have been so stupid? She snatched up a roll of packing tape and hurled it across the stock room, just missing Adam who was opening the door.
Luckily he had good reflexes and ducked in time. 'Are you all right?'
'No, I'm not all right,' she screamed at him. 'I'm fucking furious. You're all shits and bastards and I hate you,' and she spun round away from him, ashamed of her emotions.
Adam touched her shoulder. 'Isabel?' he said tentatively. 'Don't cry.'
His voice was so warm, so comforting that without thinking Isabel turned to him and he held her while she cried.
'The worst thing is, I keep on thinking who else?' Isabel sobbed into his chest. 'Who else was there? Did it happen at every posting?' Oh please, not Frances, she thought 'I can't trust anybody ever again.'
'Shh.' Adam stroked her hair. 'Of course you can.'
It didn't matter that he didn't know what she was crying over, it just felt good to be held by another human being, to be stroked and told not to worry, that every-thing would be all right. All she wanted was to stand there and be held by him. But as she calmed down reality asserted itself and Isabel remembered that she was standing in the stock room being held by the employer she'd just yelled abuse at like a fishwife. She wanted to stay there, but she couldn't Reluctantly she pulled away from Adam's encircling arms.
'Sorry about that,' she said, gulping down the last lingering sobs. 'I'm a bit of a mess right now.'
He dug around in his pocket and fetched up a tissue. 'Here.'
Isabel took it and blew her nose. 'Sorry.'
'Would you like me to ask Angela to come down and be with you for a bit?'
'No, I don't feel up to any more information on gastroenteritis.' She grimaced. 'I must be the world's worst employee. Always in tears, abusing the boss -'
'Throwing things at him.' Adam stooped and picked up the roll of packing tape.
'I didn't mean to throw it at you, you just came in at the wrong moment. And I can't believe what I called you, when you've been nothing but nice to me.'
'Yeah, well, good staff are hard to find.' He turned the roll over in his hands. 'If you want to take some time off, you only have to ask.'
Isabel felt guilty. 'I'm okay, really. Work's the best place for me. If you can put up with me.' She stood up and started to undo the nearest box, smiling to show she really was the good, hard-working employee he deserved. 'I've nearly finished these.'
Adam watched her, smiling slightly. 'I'm sure I can put up with you for a little longer.'
- ooo -
The envelope was laid out on the counter top, with Isabel, Angela and Adam watching it. Isabel smoothed it down, as if she could read the contents through her fingertips.
'Well? Aren't you going to open it?' Angela's eyes were round.
'Now it's come, I'm scared,' Isabel said.
'You silly girl. I don't know how you can bear to wait.' Angela reached out for the envelope. 'Would you like me to look first?'
'No.' Isabel snatched it away from her. 'I want to do it.' Now she had the envelope in her hands she felt she had to open it. But she didn't want to. 'Going to university was a stupid idea anyway,' she said. 'I'd be much better off doing something else.'
There was only a flimsy bit of paper inside. She read it, hand over her mouth.
'Go on, Isabel. What does it say?' Isabel shook her head at Angela, unable to speak.
Adam took the slip of paper from her trembling fingers. 'It's an unconditional offer.'
'What does that mean?'
'It means they want her very much.' He hesitated, then stooped and kissed Isabel on the cheek. 'Congratulations.'
I'm going to go to university, Isabel thought. I don't believe it. She took the piece of paper back from Adam and read it again. I'm going to university. This time I'm going to go.
She didn't stop smiling for the rest of the morning. She'd try to look serious, to look normal, and then this beam would take over, spread out over her face. She couldn't help it. It was just there. And every so often she'd simply have to make a little jump of excitement, or squeak with pleasure.
'I've just had some good news,' she told startled customers.
Angela went off for her lunch hour, leaving Isabel in charge upstairs, and Adam working downstairs. After a while he came up and joined her.
'I can't wait to tell the children,' she said. 'Even though I know they won't understand, I want to share it with them. What are you looking for?' Adam was rummaging through one of the drawers. He pushed it shut.
'Nothing.'
'I'm okay here on my own if you want to work downstairs. I'll shout if it gets busy.'
He hesitated. 'I wondered if you wanted to go out for a drink. To celebrate.'
'Oh, Adam, that'd be lovely. But we couldn't all go at once, not unless you shut the shop.'
Adam fidgeted with his cuffs. No wonder they were frayed, Isabel thought.
'I meant after work.'
'But I have to pick up the children and Angela has to get back.'
Adam pulled at a long thread. 'I meant after after work,' he mumbled to the till. 'And I didn't mean with Angela.'
'Oh,' Isabel said, her heart thumping. 'You mean a drink drink.'
'Or dinner,' Adam said, still apparently engrossed in the till. 'If you'd like.'
Isabel thought about it. Apart from Neil, she wasn't sure when she'd last gone out to dinner on a date. She'd only gone out with Patrick once, to the pub for lunch when he'd kissed her. And before Neil there were various meals consumed with various boys, but it would be stretching it to call them dinner. Dinner meant high-heels and babysitters and white linen napkins and bottles of wine in a wine cooler.
Would she like dinner? She looked at Adam.
'Dinner would be lovely. Thank you. Oh -'
'What's the matter?'
'I'm not sure I should. You see, I promised myself that I'd never go out with my employer again. And, well,' she could feel herself going red. 'Dinner's going out, isn't it? So I ought to say no.'
'Mmm. I have to admit I did set a company rule when I started that I would never go out with an employee.'
'I wouldn't want you to break a company rule.'
'I had forgotten about it. To be honest, I haven't had any desire to break it. Until now.' He looked at her, and she felt herself flushing again. How strange this was, after all those years. But nice. She smiled as her heart started racing again. Oh yes, it was nice.
'But there's my promise to myself. And I don't want to break that. It's important to me.'
'I see. Well. It was just an idea.' He turned to go and Isabel suddenly felt if she didn't seize the moment it would never come again.
'No, Adam, wait.' Isabel found a bit of paper and quickly scribbled on it. She handed it to Adam, who read it.
'What's this?'
'My notice. 'I'm going off to be a student.'
'Not for a while, surely?'
'October.' She looked at him sideways. 'But I'm sort of not your employee now, am I?'
'I suppose not,' Adam said, a grin spreading across his face. He turned and faced her. 'So, Isabel Freeman, would you like to come out to dinner with me?'
'I'd love to,' she said, beaming. 'I'd love to.'
The shop doorbell rang and Angela came in, arms stretched with heavy shopping bags. Adam went to help her, but she shook her head.
'No, I'm fine, Adam dear, I'm all balanced. That supermarket gets busier and busier. You'd think they'd put more people on the tills at lunchtime, wouldn't you? I'll just put these downstairs and then I'll be back up.' She bustled past them and as she went past, Adam stepped back and his hand brushed Isabel's, warm and alive.
Angela came back up the stairs, patting her hair. 'That's better. Now, did anything exciting happen while I was out?'
Adam, busy tidying up the credit card slips into no particular order, looked sideways at Isabel. 'Maybe,' he said casually. 'What do you think, Isabel? Did anything exciting happen?'
Isabel pretended to be alphabetically sorting through the order forms, although the words were dancing in front of her eyes and making no sense at all.
'Maybe,' she said, smiling to herself because suddenly she realised the world was wide and she could go where she chose to go and when and with whom. And while that might be frightening, it was also exciting. 'No, not maybe. Make that definitely.'