the Fear God. I have to resist it. I don’t care if my leg falls off, if I go blind, if I turn into a dung beetle – we’re buying that house.’
The estate agent took a while to get back to Kit. When she finally did, after avoiding his calls and ignoring his messages for four days, she told him that another buyer was interested in 17 Pardoner Lane, and had offered more money than we had, more even than the asking price. ‘We can go higher,’ Kit told me, pacing up and down the lounge of our Rawndesley flat. ‘What we can’t do is go higher, and still be able to go out for meals, go on holiday . . .’
‘Then let’s not buy it,’ I said. After the initial plunge of disappointment, I felt a knot start to loosen inside me.
‘I’m willing to make sacrifices and tighten belts if you are,’ said Kit. ‘We eat out a lot, and half the time the food’s disappointing.’
‘That’s because the restaurants we go to are in Rawndesley. In Cambridge the food will be better. Everything’ll be better.’
‘So we can eat out once every couple of months, instead of once a week,’ said Kit. ‘Any sacrifices we have to make, it’ll be worth it, Con. We won’t fall in love with another house, not in the same way. I’m going to ring and offer another five grand.’ Five grand more than the other interested party had offered, he meant, which would be an extra twenty grand on top of our original offer.
‘No.’ I intercepted him on his way to the phone. ‘I don’t want this move to be any scarier than it already is. Let’s look for a cheaper house, one we’re sure we can afford.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Kit was angry. ‘You’d give up on 17 Pardoner Lane that easily? I thought you loved it.’
‘I do, but . . .’ I stopped when Kit pointed at me.
‘Your face,’ he said. ‘It’s gone back to normal.’
He was right. I hadn’t even noticed. Tentatively, I touched my eyebrow, then my cheek. I stuck out my tongue. ‘Perfectly straight,’ said Kit. ‘Whatever it was, it’s gone. Two seconds of you thinking you’re off the hook, and it went.’ He shook his head. ‘Unbelievable.’
‘It can’t be that,’ I protested. ‘Even if we don’t buy that house, we’re still moving to Cambridge.’
‘In theory,’ said Kit. ‘You can handle the theory. The reality – offering on a house, having that offer accepted, so that this move might actually happen – that has you paralysed with terror, literally.’
I had nothing but contempt for the woman he was describing. The idea that she was me made me so angry I wanted to gouge my own eyes out. ‘Ring the estate agent,’ I said. ‘Go ten grand higher, and I swear to you, I’ll be fine – absolutely fine. I won’t have morning sickness, my face won’t freeze . . .’
‘How do you know?’ Kit asked.
‘Because I’ve decided. All that’s over. I’m sick of being . . . defective. From now on, my will is reinforced steel, and it’s going to spend every minute of every day kicking the shit out of my scared-child alter ego. Trust me – I’ll be fine.’
Kit stared at me for a long time. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘But I’m not upping the ante by ten grand when there’s no need to. For all we know, five might do the trick.’ He phoned the estate agent, who said she would get back to him.
The next day I was in the office at Monk & Sons when Kit turned up unexpectedly. ‘Why aren’t you at work?’ I asked him, then gasped. ‘Have we got it? Have we got the house?’ I wasn’t aware of any fear this time; there was no ‘but’ in my mind; I wanted 17 Pardoner Lane, pure and simple. I was excited, more excited than I’ve ever been.
‘The vendor accepted our offer,’ said Kit. I tried to throw my arms round his neck, but he stopped me. ‘And then I withdrew it,’ he said.
‘Withdrew what?’ I didn’t understand.
‘The offer. We’re not moving, Con. I’m sorry, but . . . we can’t.’
‘Why not?’ Tears pricked my eyes. No. This couldn’t happen, not now. ‘Have Deloitte . . .’
‘It’s nothing to do with Deloitte. I’m worried that if we go ahead with this, you’ll . . . I don’t know, have some kind of breakdown.’