The Switch - Beth O'Leary Page 0,102

reminds me of a praying mantis. I look away. She doesn’t deserve thinking about.

‘So,’ I say to Ethan. I wait.

He rubs his forehead. ‘I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick, Eileen.’

‘I’m no fool, Ethan. Don’t try to take me for one.’

‘Look. You don’t understand. In the nicest possible way, Eileen, modern relationships, they’re not like …’

‘No. Don’t try that.’

He runs his fingers through his hair. ‘OK. All right. I didn’t … I didn’t mean for things to happen with Ceci. The last thing I want to do is hurt Leena. But she’s been so different lately. I don’t know what’s got into her. It doesn’t even feel like I’m in a relationship with Leena, it’s like this whole other person, and she wants to talk about the – the transport links in rural northern England, and making stew, and planning village parties. It’s … It’s just …’ He reaches for my arm suddenly. ‘Please. Don’t tell her.’

‘Ah, yes. I suspected we were going to get to that soon.’ I remove my arm from his grasp with deliberation.

‘Please. It’ll mess everything up. I’ll end it with Ceci, I’ll do it right now after our meeting.’ He’s beginning to fray; his eyes are desperate.

‘I won’t tell Leena.’

He sags with relief.

‘For two days. I’ll give you that much. Though God knows you don’t deserve it.’

I leave him there, then, because I can’t hold my temper much longer and I can’t stand the sight of him, withering, sorry for himself, sweating in his expensive shirt. A succession of kind strangers help me with my bags until I’m settled on the train in King’s Cross, pulling out of the station into the open air, the wide sky, with the cranes pivoting steadily back and forth, building an even bigger London.

I’ll miss this city. But it’s not my home. As the train speeds its way up north I wonder if this is how it feels to be a homing pigeon, tugged onwards, as though someone’s pulling on the threads that hold you to the place where you belong.

31

Leena

I wake up the morning after May Day in the customary manner (cat in face) but, instead of jumping out of bed, I go back to sleep for at least another three hours. On second wake-up, I discover Ant/Dec has taken up residence on my lower ribs, and is purr-snoring so gleefully I feel bad moving him. Also, moving sounds rubbish. I’m bloody knackered. And more than a little hungover, too.

Did my mum walk me home last night? I vaguely remember talking in great detail about my business plan with Bee, and then telling her I didn’t want to leave Yorkshire, and her saying, Why not set up your business up here? Why London? What’s so bloody brilliant about London anyway? And then I’d got into this big rant about the Central line, and …

My phone is ringing. It’s Ethan. I rub my eyes and fumble for the phone on the side table.

‘Hey.’

‘Hey, Leena,’ he says. He sounds tight, worried. ‘How are you?’

‘Bit hungover. You?’

‘Listen, angel, I’m really sorry, but I need to talk to you about something. It might be a bit upsetting.’

I pull myself upright against the pillows. ‘OK …’

‘I bumped into your grandma this morning. I was with Ceci, from work – we were on our way to a client meeting. Your grandma … I’m sorry, Leena. She went crazy. Yelling at Ceci and me, saying these awful things – saying I was cheating on you, it was mad, Leena. I don’t know what got into her.’

‘Oh my God,’ I say, clutching at the duvet. ‘What?’

‘Do you think she’s OK, Leena? Has she seemed a little … off to you lately, or anything? At her age …’

‘What, you think she’s losing her mind?’ I’ve gone cold. My heart is beating in my ears.

‘No, no,’ Ethan says quickly, but I can hear the worry in his voice. ‘I’m sure she was just … having a bad day, or something, and maybe took it out on me.’

‘She said you were cheating on me?’

‘Yeah.’ He gives a breathy laugh. ‘Leena, you know I’d never …’

‘Of course,’ I say, before he can even finish, because I don’t even want him to have to say it.

‘I think … can you come home, Leena?’ He sounds so tired. ‘Today, I mean? I need to see you. This has been … it’s been a crazy morning.’

‘Today? I’m supposed to be staying up until tomorrow lunchtime, to catch up with Grandma

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