Valentina: A Hauntingly Intelligent Psychological Thriller (14 page)

“
Aw, that’s nice,” said Mum. “Nice girl.”

“
Could Mikey nae come down the road with you?” my dad asked.

“
Aye,” Mum chipped in. “It’s a long way on your own with a bairn.”

“
He’s got a work dinner tonight,” I lied. “The train was nae bother. And he’s so busy I thought I’d clear out and leave him a bit of peace, you know?”

Davie, I noticed, was watching me, his plate empty, his fork still tight in his hand.

“
He’ll come next time,” I added. “Davie, this curry is delicious by the way.”

Davie laid down his fork. “You’ve already said that, goldfish brain.”

After tea we went to watch television in the living room. When my phone rang at 7:30pm, I jumped. At the sight of
Home
on the screen, I felt my throat close.

“
That’ll be Mikey,” I said. “He said he’d give me a buzz around now.”

I left my mum, Dad and Davie to their programme. I closed the living room door behind me and went to switch on the hall light but decided to keep it off for fear of catching sight of my face in the mirror. If looked at myself, I thought, I’d lose heart. I answered.

“
Hello.”

“
Shone?”

“
Aye. It’s me.”

“
What the hell’s this?” He was almost whispering, as if he’d gone beyond speaking, beyond shouting. He sounded angrier than I’d ever heard him. “
Dear Mikey
?” he went on. “
I need some time to think
... Really, Shona? Are we really doing this
–
this
–
soap opera?”

“
Y’all right, doll?” came mum’s voice from the lounge.

I covered the mouthpiece and shouted through. “Fine, Mum. Told you it’d be Mikey. He’s away to his dinner.”

“
Shona,” he said.

I couldn’t remember anything I’d planned to say. Even if I could have, I couldn’t speak for the fear I might cry. If Valentina were here, I thought, she would tell me what to say. It had sounded so clear, so right, when she’d said it that morning.
You’ll be in a position of power
, she’d said.

“
I told you we’d talk about it when I got in.” His voice had strengthened but still had this terrible quiver to it, like there was a force beneath that would break through any second and leave us both screaming. “You can’t go running off to your mum’s every time you don’t like something.”

“
There’s a lot of things I don’t like,” I blurted, stopped, forced myself to whisper. The walls at my parents’ house are thin. “I don’t like it when you go offshore. I don’t like being on my own. I don’t like it when I’ve got no one to talk to in the evenings. This is more than a wee something. This is my whole life. It’s not what you said. It’s not what you promised.”

“
Oh, come on ...”

“
Don’t come on me. You’ve tricked me, Mikey, and it’s a pretty big trick. I’ve come away because I cannae take it in.”

“
I’ve tricked you?”

“
That’s what it feels like.”

“
Do you actually believe that? You believe that I tricked you on purpose? What, like a con artist? Like a criminal? What a high opinion you must have of me, Shona.” He gave a derisive laugh.

It was absolutely horrible. I felt horrible.

“
I’m sorry, I ...”

“
No, come on,” he interrupted. “Let’s play this out. Let’s play this right out. I tricked you into moving here so that I could make you miserable, is that it?”

“
No, I ...”

“
You think that I enjoy going out onto a metal crate in the middle of a freezing cold ocean, that I relish the fourteen-hour days, the smelly bastard I have to share a bunk with and all the rest and then, when I get back, you think I love having barely two days to recover before I’m back on the treadmill? You think, you actually think, that I want to get up on Monday morning, still so knackered I can barely walk, and go into work?” He sighed. “Maybe you should change your focus, Shona. Maybe you should think just for one minute about someone other than yourself.”

I started to cry
–
confusion or shame, it was hard to tell. Both, probably.

“
I did tell you,” he said. And, thank God, his voice had lost its edge. “I did, Shona. I can remember the conversation. I said I’d still have to go into the office sometimes, I asked you if you could cope. You said as long as I was coming home at a reasonable time, it was OK. I did tell you, babe. Of course I did. I’d never have kept that from you. Think about it. What you’re saying is
–
it’s quite mad actually.”

I tried to picture his face. He could easily have been offshore right now for all I knew. That was the thing about phones. He could have been on the moon. Had he told me? It was possible. Of course it was. Of course he’d told me. Only, there had been so many arrangements, so little sleep. I had jumped to a terrible conclusion. How could I have let myself think this way about him? He was my Mikey, the man I had fallen in love with, my life partner, the father of my child.

“
Where are you?” I said.

“
At home.”

“
I mean whereabouts?”

“
In the kitchen
–
I’m at the little table.”

“
Have you eaten?”

“
I’ll get myself something in a minute.”

“
There’s eggs,” I said. “You could make an omelette. I think there’s some oven chips in the freezer.”

“
Thanks, I’ll find something.” He gave another sigh.

“
I’m so sorry, Mikey,” I sobbed. “I was so disappointed, that’s all.”

“
Hey, don’t cry. Don’t cry, Shone. Let’s not start blaming each other. This has all been a misunderstanding.” He paused. The excited blare of adverts from my parents’ television bled through the thin wall.

He had told me and I had not heard or not digested the information. He had told me and I had agreed to the plan or had appeared to agree
–
maybe given a nod he’d interpreted as agreement, maybe when I was seeing to Isla or thinking about something else. He had thought I’d got it. It was all a horrible misunderstanding. He was shocked too. Oh God, and now
–
now I was standing in the dark and the cold in my parents’ hallway wondering how I could ever find my way back.

“
You couldn’t even remember which rig I was on the other day.” His voice was soft, full of sympathy. “Don’t feel bad. I’m not criticising. It’s normal. I do understand. Totally. You’re not getting enough sleep. You’ve had a tough time. Isla’s been up at night. You haven’t made many friends yet. Not all the millions of friends I know you will make. It will get easier, you know.” His words had a rhythm to them, a gentle lull, like the patter of a hypnotist. “And it’s not forever.”

“
I’m not getting enough sleep,” I said. “Isla’s been up at night.”

“
That’s what I’m saying, Shone.” His soft Scouse burr. “Come home to me, baby. Come home.”

“
I just needed to work it out.”

“
I know, baby. I know.”

In the background I heard a voice.

I sniffed, dried my eyes. “Did you get the TV working?”

“
It’s the radio.”

That’d be Radio 5 Live, I thought.

The background went silent
–
he’d switched it off. I wiped my nose on my sleeve.

“
Do you want me to come and get you?” he said.

“
No, it’s all right.”

“
I’ll come and get you right now. Say the word.”

“
No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“
You’re not going to leave me are you? I’ll make it right, Shona, I promise.”

“
I won’t leave you, don’t be stupid. But I’m going to need a car. I can’t be relying on Valentina for lifts and the buses are one an hour if you’re lucky. And we need to sort the WiFi. It’s rubbish.”

“
Of course. We’ll get you a car as soon as we can afford one, I promise. We’ll look back on all this and say
–
how did we ever manage?” He laughed. “In the meantime, I’ll get the bus to work or you can run me in, OK? You will come back tomorrow, won’t you?”

“
I’ll spend some time with my mum and I’ll come back tomorrow night.” I brushed the tears off my face. They seemed to be falling quite independently of me, I was barely aware of them. I pictured him in the kitchen, looking out onto the back garden, seeing only himself reflected in the darkened pane. I heard him sigh yet again
–
that heavy exhalation
–
and wondered what it was about the phone lines today that made everyone sound as if they were smoking.

“
It’ll take some time to get used to, that’s all,” he said. “But we can do this, Shone. Me and you. We’re a team aren’t we?”

“
Valentina got me all fired up.” The moment the words left my mouth I regretted them. Valentina had tried to be a friend and here I was, using her as a lightning rod to deflect the blame for my ridiculous petulance.

“
It’s none of that woman’s business.”

“
She was only being kind, Mikey. She didn’t say anything bad
–
it was me. I wound myself up.”

“
I’d be careful if I were you. From what you’ve told me, she sounds unhappy. Unhappy people can be very dangerous, don’t forget that.”

“
At least she’s around.” I bit down hard on my lip, cursing myself inwardly.

“
That’s not fair.”

“
No,” I said. “You’re right, it’s not. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I seem to be making a mess of everything.”

Silence. Another heavy exhalation.

“
Valentina cares for me, that’s all,” I said. “Tell you what, I’ll invite her and Red over for dinner when I get back. That way you can meet her properly and get to know her a bit, OK?”

“
OK.”

“
You’ll like her, I promise”.

After the call, I stood in the dark with my fingers pressed against the wall, listening to the low mumbling of the television, the peaks and troughs of TV presenter speak. I wanted to feel at peace but I didn’t. I didn’t know why, but I felt worried
–
but in a general way I could not have named. It did not occur to me that it was me, after all, who had said sorry, not Mikey. If any conscious thought came to me at all it was that, in the evenings, Mikey always listened to music. He only ever listened to talk radio at the weekends if there was a big match on. But you never know anyone as well as you think, do you?

ELEVEN

Davie drove me back to the station in Mum and Dad’s car. He parked up and came all the way to the train, helped me on board with Isla and the tripper and my bag.

“
Right then,” I said. “Better see if I can find a seat.” I blew him a kiss but as I threw out my hand he caught it in his.

“
Anything you need, Shone,” he said, holding my gaze. “I mean it.”

I had no idea what he meant. I pulled my hand away but not without giving his fingers a wee squeeze. “Sure thing, Davie.”

I reached Aberdeen at nine. Mikey came to pick me up at the station: red-eyed, unshaven. He’d been up late, I thought, fretful, not sleeping. And now he looked like hell. Because of me.

We said little on the way home, as if the car did not afford us the privacy we needed to finish our recovery. By the time I’d got out of the car, Mikey had taken my bag and the buggy from the boot. He waited until I’d lifted Isla safely out before walking us both to the cottage. He pushed open the front door and ushered us in first.

He’d left the heating on, and the soft electric lamp in the kitchen. There were flowers in a vase on the table and a card. Beneath the perfume of the flowers, another smell. I couldn’t say exactly, couldn’t separate out the components of that smell but I knew it was us, our family, our home.

“
Welcome back,” he said softly.

I put Isla in her car seat on the floor and let him lift me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and sank my face into his neck.

“
Don’t ever, ever leave me again,” he said.

“
I won’t.”

He lowered me down, kissed me softly on the mouth and handed me the envelope. Inside was a plain piece of card upon which he’d written:

I could not go, not anywhere, not even for a moment,

if you were not here when I got back.

I love you, Shona, always will.

M.

I was crying
–
of course I was. The whole episode, the shock, the anger, the strain of hiding all sign of trouble from my parents, and of course the guilt over my selfishness, had left me raw.

Mikey held my face in his hands and pushed my tears aside with his thumbs. He kissed me again
–
harder this time, slower, before leaning back.

“
This is what I love about you,” he said. “It’s all here, all written on your face.”

“
I wish I was mysterious.”

“
Don’t even think about becoming mysterious.”

I pulled back from him and looked him in the eye. “I’m going to look for a job. Soon.”

He smiled and rubbed the tops of my arms as if to warm me. “You’ve had a shock. You’ve got yourself into a state.” He took my hand and led me to the chair, eased me down into it. He crouched down in front of me and took both my hands in his. “I think, for what it’s worth, you need to stop putting pressure on yourself. I can look after us financially but I’ll be away a lot over the next year or two. You’re not sleeping properly yet. If it were me, which I know it isn’t, I would take it easy. You’re Isla’s only point of stability here. Two weeks in four, you’re all she’s got. I would wait for, say, a year, wait until you’re properly settled, and then think with a clear head about what you want to do next. Make the decision for the right reason.”