Everything and Nothing (29 page)

‘Wait there, Hal,’ she said. ‘Don’t move. Someone will come and get you.’ He nodded and she smiled at him. ‘Everything’s going to be fine, I promise.’

Agatha turned towards the water. She was grateful to Hal for witnessing this and that was enough of a reason to have brought him. She remembered his little arms and legs and his need for her love, but as she remembered she saw herself, she felt her own littleness, her own need, her own vacuum.

Agatha stepped forward and off the edge. The water was as cold and hard as Harry had warned. It closed tightly over her head, blocking her senses. It felt as wonderful as a baptism, as new as a rebirth.

Have you ever been pulled from a burning plane? Have you ever outrun a man wearing a mask? Have you ever given a stranger the kiss of life on a dirty roadside? Have you ever watched your best mate blown up by a roadside bomb in Afghanistan but walked away yourself two days before your wife gives birth? Have you ever been the last person out of the Twin Towers? Have you ever stepped into the road without looking just a second after a lorry rushes past? Have you ever fallen under the water only to be pulled up again by someone stronger than yourself ? Have you ever walked across a desert in search of food for your family to see an aid tent in the distance? Have you ever witnessed the sea rising up over your head and pulling a child out of your hands who you then find alive hours later? Have you ever been taken hostage and had a gun held to your head in front of news cameras with the sick knowledge that governments never give in to demands, just for them to release you on the side of a road three years later? Have you ever been told that your child has been found alive after being snatched from your home by a mad woman who left him on the side of a river while she killed herself ?

Finally, finally they were alone together in their own bedroom, their children asleep in their bed because none of them had been able to bear the thought of not being in touching distance that night. Or every night for the rest of their lives. Ruth sat on one side of them, still fully clothed, so Christian copied her. Neither of them turned on the light, but the orange glow from the streetlamps lit up the room almost enough to read by, if it had been a normal night, if any night would ever be normal again. Ruth couldn’t cry any more, she doubted her body would be able to produce the tears and Christian felt relieved for this much at least.

He stole furtive glances at his wife, desperate to ask her some questions. Because, try as he might, Christian couldn’t make sense of what had happened today. It felt to him like trying to get your head round that age-old conundrum concerning the universe and whether or not it went on forever. Surely it must end somewhere, he’d said to his mother at some indeterminable moment of his youth. Well maybe, she’d replied, but then there’d have to be something. If you think about it, even nothing is something, isn’t it?

Christian leant across the bed and was surprised that Ruth let him take her hand. ‘You must try to sleep. You look exhausted. It’ll all be clearer if we sleep on it.’

‘I don’t feel tired,’ she said. ‘I feel more awake than I’ve ever done in my life.’

They sat holding hands over their children’s heads until Ruth said, ‘I don’t know what we’re supposed to do now.’

‘We’ll do our best,’ he answered.

‘Yes, but what if our best isn’t good enough?’

‘It has to be good enough. I mean, what more is there?’

They lapsed into silence again, both listening to the steady breathing of their children. Ruth felt a deep pain in her heart. She didn’t want to imagine what it would have been like to have been told that Hal had died with Agatha in the river, but her mind couldn’t stop playing with the idea, like a cat worrying a mouse. He had needed her. Ruth had realised that when the policeman had handed him over as she had sat with her husband and daughter waiting for the other part which made them all whole. His little body shaking, his cheeks crusty with tears, his hands cold. If she had been able to put him back inside her at that moment she would have done. The preciousness, the precariousness, the delicacy of life stared at her from the bottom of a well of sadness. She wanted to hold on to the memory, but it was already slipping from her grasp. Moments of joy mixed with terror and shame could not be lived through too many times, they would kill you in the end.

‘It’s all going to have to change,’ she said, feeling like she was stating the obvious.

‘I know,’ answered Christian. ‘I’m going to talk to Sally about having some time off. Maybe I won’t go back. I could go freelance.’

‘I’ve been thinking the same thing.’

‘Really?’ Ruth looked across at her husband.

‘Yes, I can’t get a handle on what this is all about. There has to be something else. It can’t just be this.’

Ruth and Christian sat in silence. They both knew what they were saying was a fantasy. If there was a way of living out there that allowed you to be all the things you were to yourself and those you loved, then everyone would be living it. It might change for them, but it probably wouldn’t. Maybe the most you could hope for was knowledge, little particles dropping into you like gold found at the bottom of a river bed. Ruth wasn’t even sure that the answer lay outside of themselves. She thought that now they were bound together and that this could be what saw them through. The idea that they were enough filled her.

Christian squeezed Ruth’s hand and looked over at her. He wanted to know what she thought.

‘Ruth,’ he said. ‘I don’t understand. I can’t get my head around it. None of it makes any sense to me.’

Ruth smiled and he knew he’d been right to ask her because he could see that she was about to tell him something important. Something that had a lot to do with why he loved her so much. Something that would stay with him for a long time. Something that maybe she wouldn’t have been able to articulate unless they had been snared in this moment, which maybe gave it a meaning. Understanding whirled around them like smoke, they could nearly touch it.

‘I’ve been thinking about that as well,’ said Ruth. ‘And, you know what, it’s almost comforting. If nothing makes sense, then by default everything must. Don’t you think?’