cuddle with my new little niece. Did I tell you I’m going to be Carrie’s godfather?’
‘You’ll make a great godparent,’ I tell him. Even though I haven’t met him properly, I can tell he would be brilliant with kids – his sense of fun, his understanding of different issues, the way he reacted to Carrie’s birth. And he never forgets to ask about the kids at school.
‘What’s the first thing you’ll do when you get out of here?’ he asks.
‘Well other than hugging my family, I’ll probably go for a walk on Sparrow Hill and just enjoy the quiet and stillness of the fresh air whilst gazing at the patchwork fields, the birds, butterflies and fresh green tree-lined lanes of the countryside. You feel on top of the world there and can see for miles.’ I then realise maybe I’m being a bit insensitive. ‘Sorry, that’s not very helpful saying that when you can’t go out at all. I guess at least I can take a short walk now. How about you?’
He pauses. ‘Well I would love a walk, maybe not so much in the town, but Sparrow Hill is lovely. But there’s something I’d want to do before anything else, if I could get out of here.’
He says this quietly. His voice is slightly husky and I’m almost too nervous to ask him. ‘Really, what?’
‘I’d love to walk down those stairs, through your front door – if you’ll let me in of course – and sit watching the sunset with you, whilst we have one of our chats, as we could have done before all this …’ my heart is in my mouth ‘… except …’ He gives a dry laugh.
‘Except?’
‘That would be awkward because I’m still married to Laura.’
Chapter 18
Jack
The picture of a beach hanging on the wall looks kind of funny, upside down and round the wrong way. In fact everything’s a bit fragmented and I seem to be cuddling my dressing gown, which is wrapped around the table leg. Where the heck am I and what’s going on? I shut my eyes; it’s far too bright to be looking at anything for long. Cautiously I open them again. Okay I’m on the floor in my flat. Why did I sleep here? I put out my arm and touch the sofa. Must have crashed out on there and fallen off. It’s cold too, and where’s that awful brightness coming from? I peer blearily round, through squinty eyes, towards the source of light. I’ve left the balcony doors open.
I remember I was talking to Sophia but I think I might have said something wrong. Was it the wedding? No, that went well. Yet I have that horrible feeling you get when you’ve had the opportunity for something wonderful to happen and suddenly it’s been taken away. Then, like a tidal wave, realisation comes rushing back and crashes over my head, leaving me cold. I can’t believe I told Sophia about Laura.
I hold my head in my hands, drawing my legs up in the foetal position. Shutting my eyes doesn’t help. I remember it all, with hideous technicolour clarity. Like a total bastard, I said to Sophia that I wanted to be with her and then told her I’m married. Just like that, out of the blue. I am such a loser. I know I had to tell her sometime but not then, not like that.
My mouth is so dry I can barely move my lips at all. I need to get myself off the floor and find cold water, and lots of it. After a fight with the overwhelming wooziness, I struggle to my feet and stagger to the kitchen. This is why the specialist said no alcohol binges, with dodgy renal function the normal hangover is amplified by about a hundred. As I sip water, having downed a couple of painkillers, I try to piece together the events of last night. Only I could mess up like this. Sophia and I had been chatting away as we always do, yet last night it felt different, somehow much more intimate. I wanted to be close to her, to feel her mouth on mine, even though I don’t know what she looks like. Yet I’ve blown it.
I shower with the cold tap on full jet for the first few seconds in a ridiculous attempt to punish myself for my idiocy. I feel a blimming mess. I hear my mum’s voice: ‘You need to pull yourself together, Jack. What did