the phone down and swallow the new shot of tequila Rob has set in front of me. Kate always used to say she didn’t want kids because she was worried she’d turn out like her own mother and now I know why. ‘That was weird,’ I say, looking at Rob. ‘Her mum wants me to plan the funeral.’
‘What about Toby?’ Rob asks, necking back his own drink. He seems to be hammering them back faster than me. That’s already his fifth, I think. ‘Can’t he do it? They are still married.’
Oh God, Toby. I remember that call we had a few hours ago. He was so damn rude, so cynical about Kate’s disappearance. I want to rub it in his face that he was wrong but at the same time, what is there to be gleeful about in being right? All that stuff he said about her wanting him to come back to him, and about her lying to me, seem now like nothing more than bitter remarks from a jilted husband.
‘Want me to tell him?’ Rob offers again.
I shake my head, pick the phone up and dial Toby’s number. He answers immediately. ‘Orla,’ he says, both impatient and on edge, as if he’s been waiting on the call.
‘It’s Kate,’ I tell him without preamble. ‘She’s dead.’
‘What?’ Toby whispers into the phone.
‘She’s dead,’ I repeat like an automaton. Maybe the more times I say it the easier it will be to believe.
‘What the fuck are you talking about?’ Toby asks, angrily.
‘They found her—’
‘Who found her?’ he interrupts.
‘The police. She drowned. In the river.’
‘Jesus,’ Toby mutters. ‘Fuck. How?’
‘I don’t know. The police don’t know. They’re investigating.’ It’s too much to explain about the head injury and I don’t want to mention that they’re wondering if it was a suicide. I’ll wait until I know more.
‘But, Jesus … was she drunk?’ he asks. ‘She was fucking high, wasn’t she?’
I take a deep breath, trying to hold in the rage. Why is everyone looking to blame her? She’s dead! Can we not cut her a goddamn break? ‘No, not especially,’ I say through gritted teeth. ‘I don’t know what happened.’
‘What can I do?’ he finally says, snapping into pragmatic mode. ‘What’s happening to the body?’
Ignoring the jarring way he’s described her as a body, I let out a heaving sigh of relief. This is what I actually need, someone like Toby who knows how to handle the ugly, writhing messes of life, who knows how to fix things or to find the people to fix things. That’s his skill, why he’s so successful at his job.
‘I have to organise the funeral,’ I say.
‘Right,’ he says.
‘I don’t even know what she wanted.’
‘Cremation,’ he says, not missing a beat.
I nod. Of course, he’d know. They were married; they must have talked of these things.
‘I’ll start letting her friends know,’ I say, beginning a mental list in my head of all the things I have to do. ‘I’ve told her mother already.’
‘Christ,’ Toby says, and I picture him sitting in their old apartment, at the dining table, head in his hand or perhaps standing at the window looking out over the city. ‘What a thing to happen.’ He pauses. ‘What do the police say?’
‘They think it was an accident,’ I tell him. I don’t mention the other possibilities.
‘Where were you?’ he asks. ‘When it happened.’
I’m a little stunned by the question and the slightly accusatory tone buried in his voice. ‘I was asleep. I don’t know why she went out or why she was down by the river.’
Bitch! Kate’s voice bursts in my head.
‘OK,’ Toby says. ‘Are you good to organise things your end?’
‘Yes, I think so,’ I say, shaking off the confusion. ‘Rob’s with me.’
‘Well, let me know what you need. I’ll figure things out this end. The funeral and everything. I mean, we are technically still married. God,’ he says again and now I can hear the shock and the bewilderment in his voice as he really starts to process what’s happened. ‘I just used the present tense,’ he says. ‘We were married. Fuck.’
Past tense. Kate is past tense. She will never again be.
‘I’ll call you when I know more,’ I tell Toby quickly, and then hang up.
I finish my drink in two swallows, enjoying the way it makes the world foggy and holds the present at a distance. In this state I can keep Kate alive. I don’t have to use the past tense when I think of her.
‘Are you OK?’ Rob asks.