Babyville Page 0,76
have thought the London Daytime lawyer would be a cook.”
“There's only one thing I enjoy more than a bloody good litigation, and that's slaving over a hot stove. Here, sit down.” He pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and I sat, grateful for his kindness.
“See how solicitous I am?” He took my coat and left the room to hang it up.
“Not bad for a solicitor,” I grinned, as he offered me a choice of snacks.
“What? No nuts?” I couldn't help it. I'd peeked into the books he'd bought me, and I knew that pregnant women who binge on nuts often end up giving birth to children with severe peanut allergies. And I knew he'd know this too.
“Er, haven't got any, I'm afraid. You're not, um, craving nuts, are you?” Mark looked so worried, he was so transparent, that I started to laugh.
“Relax.” I slurped my smoothie. “I haven't had a single peanut in at least three months.”
His sigh of relief was audible.
I stood up and wandered into the living room, looking at the few photos dotted around, examining his bookshelves, idly picking up CDs and putting them back, when I realized that, were it not for the fact that I knew Julia had left only a few weeks ago, I would have thought that Mark had never shared this house with anyone. There wasn't a single sign of a woman living there. Nothing.
The photos were all of people I didn't know. None, incidentally, of Julia. The books were mostly legal tomes, or biographies, or nonfiction stuff that I would assume was typically male, and there seemed to be nothing that would belong to a woman.
“How come there isn't anything of Julia's around?” I asked, wondering whether it was still too painful for him, whether he had already had a chance to remove everything.
Mark came into the living room and topped up my smoothie. “I know this sounds completely weird but last week I was thinking exactly the same thing. And then I realized that there never was. She never felt at home here. She always felt the house was mine. That it was too big for her. And I never noticed that she never had anything here, any stuff.”
“So why did you buy it?”
“I loved it here. Still do, and I suppose I was selfish. I knew Julia loved her small house, loved small, cozy rooms, but I thought she'd get used to it. I thought that it was inevitable she'd fall in love with it. But now I know she always felt overwhelmed by the size.
“Can you believe I didn't even realize until she'd gone that there was nothing of hers around? That's how selfish I was.”
“I don't think that sounds selfish. I think it just sounds as if you were two very different people.”
“So tell me something else I didn't know.” He smiles sadly.
“Maybe I shouldn't ask this, and if it's none of my business that's fine, but what's going to happen when she comes back from New York?”
“She's not coming back.”
“What?”
“She called two days ago. She's been offered a job with BCA, and she's going to take it.”
“Jesus. Has she told anyone at work?”
“No, so do you mind not saying anything?”
“No! Not at all.” I looked at him closely, “So how do you feel?”
“Sad at the loss of our relationship, but relieved at the same time. I think more than anything else I feel an enormous sense of relief. I'm sure what I'll miss most is being in a relationship, but even that's ridiculous because we barely spent any time together. Anyway, enough about me.” I could see he was growing uncomfortable talking about it. “Are you hungry? I think it should be just about ready.”
We went into the kitchen and sat down to carrot and coriander soup, with hot, crusty French bread.
I slurped it up, starving, then sat back, eagerly awaiting the main course.
“This is so delicious,” I moaned, three mouthfuls into roast lamb with crispy roast potatoes and homemade mint sauce. “I haven't eaten like this since I lived at home.”
“That's what Julia used to say when we first met. But then I think she got bored.”
“Bored with roasts? Is she mad?”
“Bored with living with someone who loves being at home.”
“Oh please. Home is the best possible place to be.”
“Now you're surprising me.” Mark raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You're a party girl. A career woman. Home life isn't your thing, surely.”
“It's precisely because I work so hard that home is so important