24

Leo drummed his fingers on the table and checked his phone for the third time in two minutes. She was late. Maybe she wasn’t coming. He thought he’d be partly relieved if she didn’t. He was sitting outside the café at Somerset House, in front of the fountains hidden in the paving stones of the courtyard; they sprang up randomly, wetting any unsuspecting passer-by. He often came here, because it was a short walk from his Chancery Lane office and he liked the open space and the fresh wind from the river, especially on such a lovely summer day.

But he was nervous – reluctant to get involved in his father’s affairs of the heart – as he caught sight of Anezka’s tall figure at the entrance to the courtyard. She had on a sleeveless red dress and large sunglasses, her hair flowing out behind her in the breeze.

‘I’m so sorry, Leo.’ Anezka was slightly breathless. ‘This is supposed to be my day off, but they still phone me with idiot questions.’ She sat down in a billow of skirt, sweeping her shiny hair across her head in the familiar gesture. ‘I have not much time,’ she added, seeming almost impatient.

Leo took a steadying breath. ‘Right, well, I’ll get to the point. Mum asked me to see you.’ He noted Anezka’s slight raise of an eyebrow. ‘I know you’ve finished with Dad. But he still asks after you … and I know he calls you.’ She gave a wry nod at this. ‘Like he hasn’t got the message?’

Anezka looked away and didn’t answer.

Leo ploughed on: ‘So Mum wondered if you would come round – or just talk to him over the phone – and really sort out what’s bothering him, once and for all.’

She stared at him with her large blue eyes, almost defiantly. ‘Do you want to know what it is, this thing between us?’

‘Umm … not really my business, Anezka.’

Ignoring his reply, she went on, ‘I will tell you what we argue about.’ She gave a heavy sigh. ‘We have been seeing each other a long time, you know. I think we love each other. So, I suggest we move in together. Your father, he says yes,’ she gave a short laugh, ‘but he mean no.’

Leo had no idea how to respond, but before he had time to think, she was asking, ‘You want to know why?’

He didn’t, but he knew she was going to tell him.

‘He is still in love with your mother.’ She spoke slowly, emphasizing each word loudly and carefully, as she cast a wounded glance at Leo. ‘All that time? He was just using me for sex.’

Leo was shocked. Was any of what she said true? His father ‘using’ someone for sex? His father in love with his mother throughout? Now he recalled Anezka implying, when they were in the hospital one day, that Michael would prefer to see someone other than her at his bedside. But although he’d noted the words as significant at the time, he hadn’t had the head space to follow it through. ‘Are you sure about him still being in love with Mum? He seems really keen to talk to you.’

His father had never taken him into his confidence when his mother had left. Not even mentioned it. But did parents ever confide in their kids about their relationship? Or kids confide in their parents? He certainly hadn’t told either of them about Lucy, his girlfriend of six months, wanting to wait till they were both sure.

Rex had posited the theory, at the time of the split, that maybe there’d been an overlap with Anezka and their mum – she’d been on the scene earlier than was said – and that was what had driven their mum away. But Leo hadn’t bought that about his dad. And his mother would surely have been angrier and let something slip, if that were the case.

Anezka didn’t answer, just looked at him as if he was being disingenuous, a tight smile on her lips.

‘OK … but right now his brain seems stuck in some sort of groove. Maybe he wants to apologize to you, or something,’ Leo said. ‘I’d appreciate it if you’d see him, anyway … sort out whatever it is.’ The reluctance on her face was patent, but Leo stood firm. ‘Please, Anezka.’

She sighed. ‘I will come, if that’s what you want. But I don’t want to fight with him like we did that night.’

‘Maybe ring him, then. Just make clear that it’s really over, that you’re not interested … and don’t keep saying you love him, even if you do.’

His phone rang as he waited at the lights to cross Sloane Square on his way to visit his father. He smiled to himself as he saw who it was.

‘Hi, bro,’ Rex said. ‘Thought I’d see how it’s going over there.’ He sounded annoyingly upbeat.

‘If you’re on the beach, I don’t want to know how blue the sky is or how cool the water, OK?’ Leo joked, although he was really happy to hear his brother’s voice.

‘Man, it’s the middle of the night! So tell me about Dad.’

Leo sighed. ‘Everyone keeps telling me he’ll be fine in the end, and maybe he will, but it’s really hard seeing him struggle to do even the smallest thing.’

Rex was silent for a moment. ‘I feel so bad I’m not there to help.’

Leo was sure his brother did feel guilty. But not guilty enough to come back, he thought. Not that he blamed him.

‘How is he in himself?’ Rex was asking, as Leo weaved his way expertly round the crowded square, not waiting for the pedestrian lights to change to green before striding across the King’s Road junction.

‘Well, that’s the odd thing. He’s sort of mellowed. He’s not nearly as scary as he used to be.’

‘Like how?’

‘It’s weird,’ Leo said, as he entered Symons Street. ‘We actually had a real laugh together on Saturday. Can you believe that selfie I sent? Dad allowing me to take one? And he seems to be listening to me – even taking what I say seriously sometimes.’

‘So his brain’s definitely on the blink.’

‘Very funny. It sort of is and isn’t. He was able to quote some Supreme Court ruling without any trouble the other morning, but often he can’t remember the name of a simple object, like his iPad.’

‘So what does he do all day? Can he read and stuff?’

‘Ah, well, wait for it … Dad’s watching telly for the first time in his life! Mum’s got a flat screen fitted on the wall in their bedroom where that gloomy bridge painting used to be and Dad’s become a Netflix junkie.’

He heard Rex’s disbelieving snort. Michael had spent most of their childhood ranting about television programmes being ‘damaging, populist rubbish’. He’d tried to limit the amount the boys watched, but since he wasn’t there most of the time and their mother didn’t stress about it, they’d ended up with pretty much the same quota as their peers.

‘You … are … kidding.’ Rex was silent for a moment. ‘And Mum?’

‘That’s another odd thing.’ Leo paused as he stepped off the kerb, narrowly missing a massive white four-by-four with blacked-out windows. ‘It’s nearly a month now, and she’s still there all the time – except one weekend – and they seem to be getting on better. I mean, sometimes really laughing together.’ He hesitated. ‘I’ve told her that with Daniel there she could probably go home and she says she will, but not yet … so maybe she’s sort of enjoying being with Dad.’

‘Hmm … interesting. You think this might bring them back together?’ Rex yawned loudly. ‘That’d be one good thing to come out of all this.’

‘Well, let me tell you what Anezka said when I saw her just now.’ Leo went on to fill Rex in.

‘Do you think Mum knows? Because if that really is how Dad feels, it looks like the ball’s in Mum’s court now.’

Both brothers fell silent.

‘Make sure you phone me with updates. I love our chats,’ Rex said affectionately. ‘I feel like I’m a million miles away and I miss you.’

‘Bugger, bugger, bugger,’ Michael muttered, as he sat in his armchair in the sitting room, struggling with the Velcro fastenings on his trainers, his breath coming in awkward gasps. He looked up at Leo and gave a resigned smile.

‘You’re doing well, Dad,’ Leo encouraged.

His father snorted. ‘For a cripple.’

‘Yeah, for a cripple, obviously,’ Leo ventured. This was new, the banter he and his father were establishing. His mother, setting a vase containing some tall purple irises on the coffee table, gave him a warning frown. But his dad just laughed.

‘At least someone round here’s being honest.’

‘I don’t think it’s helpful.’ His mother’s voice was reproachful.

‘Not helpful, perhaps,’ Michael retorted, ‘but refreshingly accurate.’

A moment later, Leo noticed his father staring at him intently, one eye on the door through which his mother had just disappeared to make coffee. He could hear the chuntering of the kettle in the kitchen, the rattle of crockery, the click of a cupboard door.

‘You know your mother’s got a boyfriend?’ His father’s voice was low and conspiratorial.

Leo’s mouth fell open. He gave his father a sceptical look – he was not himself these days. ‘You sure you’ve got that right, Dad?’ he asked.

‘What’s more,’ Michael ignored his son’s condescension, ‘she spent the night with him last week … Tuesday, was it? Wednesday?’ A look of frustration crossed his face. ‘People joke about not remembering the name of the prime minister …’ Then he added, ‘She didn’t get back till nearly noon the next day.’

Now it was Leo’s turn to glance towards the door. ‘Did Mum actually tell you this? Maybe you’re …’ he didn’t want to imply that his dad was an idiot ‘… confused about something she said.’ Mum with another man is ridiculous, he told himself. Although, as he’d said to Rex, she did seem to be laughing more, these days, which he’d put down to her getting on better with his father.

Michael gave him an edgy half-smile. ‘Ask her yourself,’ he said, nodding towards the door as Romy walked in, carrying a tray laden with coffee, frothy milk and homemade lemon shortbread that one of Michael’s visitors had brought.

Leo had no intention of asking her. He was embarrassed for his father. But Romy must have sensed the atmosphere because she turned a questioning look on Leo.

‘What have you two been whispering about?’

‘Your friendly neighbour,’ Michael said promptly. ‘The one you spent the night with last week. Leo doesn’t seem to know anything about him.’

‘Mum …’ began Leo, intent on laughing it off. Then he saw the blush. Her head was bent over the coffee tray, but it was impossible to miss. ‘Mum?’

When Romy looked up, her expression was a mixture of defiance and irritation. She glared at his father. ‘Thanks,’ she muttered sarcastically.

Michael just shrugged. ‘I assumed he knew.’

She handed Leo a cup of coffee but didn’t look at him.

Leo frowned. ‘Mum?’ he repeated, for the third time, wondering what game these two were playing and wishing they wouldn’t.

He saw her sigh as she sat down with her own cup of coffee in the chair opposite his father.

‘I didn’t tell you because there’s nothing to tell.’

Leo took a relieved breath. ‘That’s what I told Dad.’

Then she went on quickly, ‘His name is Robert Fincham – everyone calls him Finch. He’s a neighbour in Sussex, retired from the army. And, yes, your father’s right. I have been seeing him, but it’s a very new thing. I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure there was something in it.’

Leo was silent as he tried to digest this extraordinary piece of news. ‘So is there? Something in it?’ he asked eventually. His mother was blinking nervously, while his father’s expression had reverted to a cynicism with which Leo was uncomfortably familiar.

‘I don’t know,’ Romy said unhelpfully.

Silence fell, the three of them lost in their own thoughts. Leo didn’t know why he was so shocked. He remembered when his father announced he wanted him and Rex to meet Anezka. That had been bad enough, both of them cringing at the implication their dad was probably having sex with someone other than their mother – having sex at all, in fact, even with their mother, especially with their mother. But this was somehow way, way worse. Mum with another man? It made him positively squirm and blew right out of the water Rex’s fond theory that their parents might get back together. Although he realized now that he, too, had been holding on to the idea that they might, ever since he’d been told they were separating.

‘That’s great, Mum.’ Provoked into siding with her in the face of his father’s obvious disapproval – something he’d done since childhood – Leo forced the words from between his lips.

He saw a pained look flit across his father’s face. Then the bell rang and Leo leapt up from the sofa.

Later, while his father was being put through his paces by the physio, his mother took his arm and drew him into the dining room, shutting the heavy door behind her. Leo could still hear Imogen’s monotonous exhortations from the next-door room.

‘I’m sorry about that, sweetheart.’

Leo patted her shoulder. ‘It’s OK, Mum. It was a bit of a shock, hearing it from Dad like that. But I’m happy for you, really. It’s your life and Dad has no right to make you feel guilty.’

‘He does, though.’

‘Yeah, well, he’s jealous, probably.’ He knew this now – courtesy of Anezka – although he hadn’t yet mentioned that part of their conversation to his mother.

‘It’s early days. But I like him a lot.’ She stopped, glanced away, clearly embarrassed.

Whoa, Leo thought, but said, ‘Look forward to meeting him, then.’

‘You do?’ She raised an amused eyebrow.

He gave her a sheepish grin. ‘Sort of.’

She laughed and hugged him. ‘Love you for saying it, anyway.’

Leo felt oddly tearful as he retreated to Rex’s old room ‘for a read’, as he told his mother. Why did things have to be so complicated with his parents? First the volatile Anezka and now some dodgy old soldier?

He couldn’t really believe his mother was in love with this random guy. How could she do that to them right now, when everything was so horrible, so uncertain?