I stand at rock-bottom and I don’t want to be here.
I see him drive off, hear him skid a bit on the gravel and I know that he's as mortified as me. Some things just shouldn't happen - no one must ever know, please God that Noel never says anything, because no one will ever hear it from me.
But God must hate me today and for most of last week too, because, just as I want to go to bed and curl up with my shame, just as I want to put today behind me and move on, just as I go to close the blinds, I see her.
Gloria, I mean.
I see Gloria sitting in a car on the street and she's looking directly at me. I know from the expression on her face, from the loathing in her eyes, from the pure disgust on her lips, that she's seen everything.
That she knows.
I snap closed the blind and I wait. I can hardly breathe. I know she's going to come over, I know she's going to let me have it, not just for today but for everything. We’re going to have the confrontation that we never really had.
The doorbell doesn't ring though and a few moments later I hear an engine starting. By the time I pluck up the courage to look I realise she's gone.
And so I revise.
This is rock-bottom.
You’d think so.
I mean, you’d really think so wouldn’t you?
But you’ve no idea just how low Lucy can go.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
‘She’s wetting the bed.’
It’s the day after, the day after, his funeral.
The day after, the day after that.
I spent yesterday curled up in bed, then Jess brought Charlotte home and I cobbled together dinner from some of the leftovers in the fridge. This morning Mum came over and when she saw me doing the sheets, she rang the doctor for an appointment.
I can’t look at Dr Patel.
It turns out that she’s really popular and I was hoping she’d be so booked up that I wouldn’t get into her, that I might have to see someone else, but no. I’m sitting there looking at a poster of a skeleton on the wall behind her and that’s what he’ll be soon.
I wonder how soon you start decomposing?
I jerk my eyes away from it in panic almost and I meet her calm brown eyes for about one twentieth of a second.
Eye contact really isn’t my forte and especially not today.
‘It’s to be expected,’ Doctor Patel says. ‘How is she going back at school?’
‘She just went back today.’
‘Okay.’ Doctor Patel nods and nods again – she does that an awful lot. ‘It’s good she’s getting back amongst her friends, back to normal – try and keep as much of a routine going for her as you can.’
I nod too, because I know how much my routines mean to me. ‘Try not to make any major changes if you can. Don’t go making any big decisions on impulse, Lucy. You need a year to really see how things are.’
I’ve heard that from a few people and I find myself again nodding back.
‘The bed-wetting will sort itself out in time but it’s the last thing Charlotte needs to be dealing with now. I can write her up for some medication to take before bed, just for a few nights.’
She starts typing up the prescription, she’s offered her condolences, she’s asked how I am and I just want to grab the prescription and get the hell out of there but, of course, she doesn’t leave it there.
‘How are you holding up, Lucy?’
‘I told you,’ I say. ‘I’m fine.’
She must have the slowest printer in the world.
‘We have a grief counsellor here at the practice.’
I give a small snort and then I do manage to look at her. ‘How long were you prescribing him Viagra?’ She doesn’t answer. ‘You let me sit here and tell you the problems we were having and all the time you were writing him scripts.’
I’m changing my doctor, I decide. How dare she?
‘There’s patient confidentiality, Lucy.’
‘I was your patient too,’ I point out. ‘How long?’ I demand.
‘Lucy, he’s still my patient.’
‘He’s dead!’ I retort. ‘He’s in no position to sue!’
‘Lucy,’ her voice is calm and she refuses to match my anger, she just nods at me, she always does that but it annoys the hell out of me now. ‘I’m sure you know far more about your marriage than I do. You don’t need to hear dates and times from me.’