Читать книгу Waiting For You - Catherine Miller - Страница 12

Chapter Four

Mondays were Fliss’s least favourite day of the week. Just as they would get back into the swing of things with family life, it was time for Ben to head back to London. His work schedule determined whether he would go up on the Sunday evening or Monday morning. This weekend, after their discussion, he’d opted for the early wake-up call so they would have one more night together. It made for a long day as he’d managed to wake both Fliss and Hollie so a couple of hours extra entertaining her daughter this morning meant that this evening she was in need of an early night.

Before heading off to bed, Fliss carried out the usual weekday ritual of sending Ben a text summarising their day. It was hard to recall when the usual evening telephone call had been reduced to a text message, but it hadn’t been long after the house move. Hollie had been younger and, with the cottage’s low ceilings, more than once the calls had disturbed her sleep. So they’d switched to messaging each other and years on they were still texting rather than calling.

The message she typed out now was like a template for all the others.

Hollie had a good day. Two refurbished eBay items sold. Tired now. Sweet dreams xxx

What she didn’t include was the fact the show’s producer had called and wanted to visit tomorrow to assess whether her proposal was possible. Or that she kept thinking about Suzie’s pregnancy and having lustful thoughts about it being her. Little fantasies about enjoying the experience with her younger sister kept tantalising her daydreams. If only.

Fliss considered giving Ben a call to tell him how she was feeling, but there was far too much to say and she was too tired. And there was nothing to add to what she’d told him on Friday night. She’d tried to talk about their efforts for another baby and he hadn’t listened. He wanted her to wait six months, but she wasn’t at an age where she wanted to wait for half a year. She wanted to know now.

***

The instant they bundled into her cramped kitchen, Fliss regretted her foolhardiness.

‘Will there be enough space to set up in here?’ the skinny brunette said to the two blokes she was bossing about. She’d introduced herself as Carrie and since she’d been let across the threshold, she’d neglected to pay Fliss any attention.

Already Fliss was overwhelmed and wanted to send them on their way. If she put a stop to it she would be in control again. But then… How else was she going to get Ben to say yes to finding out what was wrong? And didn’t she want to know for herself?

‘What about the light, Leon? It’s very pokey in the kitchen. Perhaps if we opened the blind and this… erm, art gallery can provide the backdrop?’ Carrie arched an eyebrow as she took in the array of Hollie’s drawings that Fliss had never had the heart to throw away.

Carrie’s obvious disgust made Fliss regard the room with fresh eyes. Despite Fliss’s interior designer credentials it was her own house that was neglected the most. It was what some would call shabby-chic. Really it was all getting a bit shabby-shit. The kitchen area was cramped and more suitable for students who didn’t cook much. Underneath the stairwell that ate into the space, there were some chairs and a bistro-style table with a folded piece of cardboard under one leg stopping it from wobbling. The fine layer of dust covering most surfaces suddenly seemed thick and cloying. It was as if, when Carrie surveyed the room, everything that Fliss regarded as homely shrivelled up and shuddered. Even the yucca plant in the corner grew limp under her scrutiny.

‘You said this was an introduction so I could find out what was involved? I haven’t signed anything yet, so I don’t know why you’re testing light conditions?’ Fliss said.

‘I’m sorry,’ Carrie said, ‘I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s talk about the whole project in more detail over a coffee. Mine’s black, no sugar. I’ll take a seat in the front room.’

Carrie walked past Fliss, not without inspecting the door smudges, and ventured into the lounge, no doubt to disapprove of its state without even moving her lips. Fliss spat on her cuff and scrubbed at the door with her sleeve, but gave it up as a bad job. If they were going to set up cameras here, she really would need to tidy.

‘Don’t let her put you off.’

‘Arghhh.’ Fliss jumped out of her skin.

‘Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,’

Fliss turned to see the Hottest Guy Ever – and she’d been too distracted by the kitchen hijack to notice. ‘I, er, you didn’t… I forgot you were there.’ And I wouldn’t be scrubbing doors with my own saliva if I’d known you were.

‘She’s a bit like a robot. No human emotion.’ Hot Guy went to pull on the blind cord.

‘Don’t…’ Fliss said. ‘It’s broken.’ She bit her lip as the little white lie escaped. The truth was no one had touched the blinds in ages and she was scared a tornado of dust would overtake the room. The decision to enquire about this programme was beginning to seem like a bad idea. What with Hot Guy poking around her kitchen and Miss Efficient casting an eye of disgust over her home, backing out was the only reasonable thing to do. She’d emailed on a whim in a silent protest against her husband. She’d sent the message off to the programme admitting her husband wasn’t willing to participate, but she’d asked if there was any chance they would consider just her. Never in a million years did she think they’d turn up talking about setting up without even explaining to her what was happening.

‘But she’s not as bad as she comes across.’ Hot Guy broke into her thoughts. ‘I know she seems brash, but it’s because she’s concerned about getting it right.’

‘Really?’ Fliss asked. ‘You don’t sound convinced.’

Hot Guy hesitated and Fliss wondered whether she should take this opportunity to stroke his biceps. She really did need to get out of the house more.

‘That and she’s eager to head off on her ski holiday. So she’s worse than usual, but I don’t want you to be put off by her,’ he said, peering through his mop of long hair. ‘This project is a great opportunity for you.’

Fliss’s throat dried. His hazel eyes fixed on her as if he knew everything. As if she were transparent and her emotions clear.

Of course he knew about her. He must have read her application and all the details it included. Would this be what it would be like if she took part? Would total strangers look at her and pity her instantly? That poor woman on the telly who couldn’t get pregnant.

‘But only do it if it’s what you want to do. Don’t let her push you into it. Do it if it’s right for you.’ He broke into her thoughts again as if reading her mind.

She took in his kind, stubble-covered face and decided to be honest. ‘I’m not sure any more. I thought it would be a great opportunity and we need to because of the funding. If I need IVF we don’t have any savings and at my age, plus the fact we already have a child, the NHS won’t fund it. But despite that, now it’s reality, I don’t know if it’s such a good idea. I didn’t think you’d be filming here at my house. It already feels invasive and I haven’t even signed up.’

‘Signing up is exactly what we need to discuss,’ Carrie said, rejoining them in the kitchen. ‘Don’t let Leon bother you. The light is much better in the lounge, Leon. Perhaps you can go and set up in there and I’ll talk Fliss through everything.’

Fliss didn’t miss the emphasis on ‘I’ll’ and Leon skulked off to the lounge with the gait of a sulky teenager. She also didn’t miss the wink he offered her as he left. Leon. Her late grandfather’s name. She liked him already.

‘Let’s sit down with this drink and chat through what format we’ll be following over the next few months. Here?’ Carrie indicated the small kitchen table, with the curled corners of Hollie’s paintings close enough to tickle earlobes.

Perhaps not, Fliss thought. ‘Outside will be nicer. Follow me.’ Fliss carried the drinks she’d prepared into the garden. Even the back door was grubby and Fliss worried about Carrie brushing against it in her crisp, white shirt. At least out in the garden Fliss wouldn’t worry about what Carrie thought of her home.

The garden was small, but perfectly formed. Her work studio was to one side and when she took a ten-minute break she would come out and tend to the borders around the lawn. It struck Fliss that Carrie wasn’t the type of person to know the difference between a weed and a plant. At least out here she knew it was up and together. She led Carrie to the patio and they sat at the mosaicked table – one of Fliss’s favourite restoration projects to date. So much so she had opted to keep it rather than selling it on.

‘Pretty,’ Carrie said, rubbing her hand over the detailed peacock design.

‘Thanks. Took me a while, but worth the effort,’ Fliss said, feeling more relaxed now she was in the place where she was most at one with the world.

‘You must be very patient to have completed something like this,’ Carrie said.

Fliss’s anxiety ebbed away slightly. Out here Carrie didn’t appear so fierce or critical. ‘It’s part of what I do with my interior design business. Revamping unloved furniture is the bit I love doing most.’

‘Well, you obviously have a good eye.’ Carrie sipped her coffee as the small talk dried up.

‘I don’t want to do this,’ Fliss blurted. There, she’d said it. ‘It was a spur of the moment thing when I filled out that form. Now you’re here and I’ve considered everything it doesn’t seem very sensible. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.’

Carrie leant forward and rested her hand on Fliss’s arm. ‘Don’t rush any decisions, Fliss. I think your story will resonate with a lot of people in the same situation as you. Let me explain our plan and consider what you want to do.’

‘Okay,’ Fliss said quickly in the hope Carrie would move out of her personal space. It had the desired effect and Carrie started her spiel.

‘In the first instance we want all the participants to do video diaries at home. That’s why we’re here today. Once we’ve set that up for you, we want you to carry on as you usually would and continue trying to get pregnant. During the first three months we ask that whenever you feel like you want to talk about what you’re going through you make a video diary. Talk about how you feel when you are fertile, and if your period turns up talk about how you feel then. We want to capture the emotions of wanting a child and why it’s so important to you. After that, if you haven’t fallen pregnant naturally, we’ll start the process of investigating your fertility.’

‘But there’s no point if it’s just me taking part. My husband said no. I shouldn’t have gone behind his back,’ Fliss said, biting her lip.

‘Three months is a long time. Perhaps he’ll change his mind by the time we get to that part. There’ll be no harm in your doing the video diary entries and if you decide not to take part later on we can scrap them and you won’t be included in the programme. The time will give you the chance to persuade him.’

‘I didn’t think you’d be coming here and recording in my house. I’ve got my daughter to think about as well.’

‘She won’t be affected by the filming. I promise we only want to set up a simple camcorder wherever you want it to be. Most of the documentary will be filmed later on. We ask that participants continue the video diaries throughout so we can get the personal side to your story. We don’t want it to be a clinical take on secondary infertility. We want the human perspective.’ Carrie sipped her coffee. ‘You’ll be perfect. Our viewers will really connect with what you’re going through. It strikes me it can be very lonely and that will resonate with people.’

Fliss considered for a second. Carrie had managed to sum up her marriage with one word. Lonely. It wasn’t something she’d ever admitted to anyone, but that was exactly what she was. Every week she cherished the time she spent with her daughter, but when Hollie was at school and in the evenings – especially the evenings – the loneliness had intensified over the years. Without Ben there she couldn’t pop out to meet up with her friends and, with her mum living an hour away in the car, it wasn’t easy to have a life of her own.

‘You might help someone in the same position as you.’ Carrie finished the last of her coffee.

Fliss thought of Ange. ‘I know lots of people who are struggling and they’ve become like friends. It’s something that only someone in the same situation really understands.’

‘So does that mean you’ll do the videos?’

Fliss had changed her mind about twenty times since they’d arrived. ‘Yes. It will give me time to have a proper think. As long as I can back out after those three months like you’ve promised. I want the fact the videos will be destroyed if I choose not to take part written into anything I sign.’

‘Of course.’ Carrie stood. ‘Let’s get back inside and see if Leon’s managed to set the camera up. We can have a quick test run. We’ll meet up again before the next stage of filming and you can give me your final decision then.’

Carrie headed off without Fliss and for a moment Fliss wondered whether it would be rude to run away. She wasn’t sure if she had the conviction to go through with any of this and it would be wrong to waste their time. It was the sense of being sprung upon making her uncomfortable. But then if she continued there was a chance of a baby. The sibling she longed for Hollie to have. If there was even the slightest hope this would get her closer to that goal she was prepared to grab it with both hands.

With that thought, Fliss matched Carrie’s stride and headed indoors.

‘Everything ready?’ Carrie asked when they reached the front room.

Leon and his lanky pal looked up from whatever it was they were fiddling with. They were both dressed in black jeans and black T-shirts, although Leon filled his out far better, and Fliss guessed it was some kind of uniform.

‘We’re ready to go through it whenever Fliss is,’ Leon said, his hazel eye’s holding her attention.

‘Excellent. I’ll go and see if I can find the paperwork in my car. I’ll leave you to it.’ Carrie let herself out of the front door.

Made yourself quite at home, haven’t you, Fliss thought as she stared after Carrie.

‘Do you want me to show you?’ Leon asked. His arched eyebrow added a sense of ‘Are you really going through with this?’

‘She said I can back out later on if I don’t want to go through with it.’ Eyebrows can’t talk, Felicity, she told herself and turned her attention to the camera. ‘So, what do I need to know?’

‘It’s pretty simple. When you want to make a recording you need to press this button here.’ Leon showed Fliss the small panel of buttons and she saw he was pointing to the one marked record. ‘Once you’ve pressed it this light here will come on so you know it’s working.’ A red LED light came on as he demonstrated. ‘Once you’ve finished press the stop button.’

‘That’s the kind of level of technology I can deal with,’ Fliss said.

‘We just need to get the angle of the camera right so we have a good headshot of you. If you can sit in the chair and I can get it all set up… I used Tim as my guide and he’s about a foot taller than you so we’ll be filming your forehead if we’re not careful.’

Fliss moved round to her comfy chair where she spent most of her evenings cuddled up by the woodburner reading a good book. ‘I will be able to put it away somewhere when it’s not in use, right?’ Staring at the camera on its tripod, Fliss became aware of how intrusive it was. It would be like Big Brother continuously being there even when it wasn’t on. Not to mention what Ben would think when he returned home this weekend. She’d hardly be able to keep her participation in the project a secret with a camera living in the lounge.

Leon’s hazel eyes peered up from where they’d been staring at her through a lens. ‘You can collapse the tripod fairly easily and store it somewhere safe out of the way. I’ll need to make sure you put it back in the same spot. Maybe I could mark its place with some tape for you, if that’s okay?’ He grabbed some hazard tape from a nearby bag of equipment then raised his eyebrows while he waited for her answer.

Stripes of yellow and black tape across the floor wasn’t a discreet option. ‘Can you make them small pieces?’ Fliss asked.

Leon riffled about in the bag again. ‘How about I do it with this?’ He held up a roll of black electrical tape. ‘That way your husband shouldn’t be able to spot anything.’

Fliss blushed. Was she really that readable?

‘Tim, get the scissors out of the car can you? I can’t find them in here,’ Leon said.

The young, lanky fellow who’d been leaning against the wall the whole time headed outside.

‘Work experience,’ Leon said. ‘Really not sure how I can make it more interesting for him, but then it would help if he showed a bit more interest.’ He knelt by the tripod and cut a small piece of black tape with his scissors.

‘I thought you said you couldn’t find them,’ Fliss said.

‘A little white lie to occupy him. There’s another pair out there so it’s not like he’s on a totally wild errand. Besides, I didn’t think you’d want him ruining your expensive wallpaper.’

Fliss’s cheeks went an even deeper shade of crimson. Why she was embarrassed she was unsure. The paper was anything but expensive. Everything in the cottage had been done on a budget and, where possible, made by her own fair hands. The wallpaper had been cheap and plain. She’d done the hand-painted artwork on it, but should she admit to it? Or let him believe they were better off than they were? ‘I did it myself,’ she confessed.

‘What? Put it up? Neat job,’ Leon said, paying a bit more attention to the single feature wall.

Something prickled within Fliss. Why shouldn’t she own up to its being her work, especially if this guy was doubting her ability to put up wallpaper. ‘Yes, I put it up and I painted on the decoration. I’m an interior designer, but I prefer to do a lot of the work myself,’ Fliss said in a rather more defensive tone than she’d intended.

‘In that case it’s a really neat job. I wish I had artistic talent like that.’ Leon gave the paper a closer inspection. ‘Are you seriously telling me you can paint that perfectly?’

Fliss allowed herself a small smile. Two lots of compliments about her work in the same day was a rarity. Possibly because she didn’t put it on show like she should. ‘I used a block print to give me the same repetition. My eye’s not that good. I like to experiment with different techniques and the house is the best place to try anything new.’

‘Wow. If this is what you manage when you’re experimenting, I’d love to see what you do when you’ve refined your techniques.’

Fliss blushed. What Leon had said about refining techniques had sent a pulse through her body as she imagined innuendo where there wasn’t any. It proved her husband was away far too much if her mind was wandering so easily.

Leon brushed the hair back out of his face with one hand, his eyelids temporarily hooded. ‘I don’t suppose…’ He cleared his throat, not managing to complete his sentence. ‘Do you take on smaller jobs? There’s been some damage to my flat that’ll need sorting.’ Leon closed his eyes and shook his shoulders, like someone had just stepped over his grave.

‘What kind of damage?’

Tim reappeared with the large pair of scissors he’d gone to search for.

Leon glimpsed at Tim. ‘I’ll fill you in another time. Can you do it?’

‘Yes, no job too small. Just let me know.’ Leon’s change in demeanour made her wonder what type of damage he meant, but it didn’t really matter when she was in need of work however it came about.

Leon went back to marking out the position of the tripod and Fliss did her best to ignore his muscular body. ‘There. No one will notice,’ he said.

Fliss hoped Leon was right and the tape against the dark blue carpet didn’t show.

‘This is how you release the legs so the tripod folds down.’ Leon showed Fliss a quick release catch. ‘Leave the legs at this height. It can be hard to judge if you’ve got yourself in a headshot if you’re doing it by yourself. Hopefully you have a cupboard where you can stash this away when you’re not using the camera. You’ll need to be careful when storing it not to damage the lens. I’ll leave the cover with you. Pop that on before you put it away and it should keep it safe. And here’s my card.’ He took one from his wallet. ‘Give me a call if you have any problems and please text me your number so we can talk about my flat. I need to explain a few things to see if it’s possible to sort it out.’

***

When they’d all left, Fliss was left with a camera peering at her, a fistful of documents she needed to read and sign, and a sense of loneliness made greater by the fact she’d been assessed as such. In the early days she’d heard those comments often from her mum and her sisters. ‘Won’t you miss him? Won’t you be lonely?’ She’d dismissed the idea often enough for them to have stopped asking. But the ease with which she’d jovially shrugged off those comments when they first adopted their dual lifestyle had left her today. Instead, she found that she’d spent so long defending their set-up that at some point she’d started trying to convince herself as well as those around her. They were lucky, she would say to herself. Thousands of people would love to have this lifestyle but wouldn’t be able to afford two residences. They were only able to after riding the wave of a fortunate upturn in the property market. But with each passing year the idyll was losing its shine. Maybe she needed to get out more. She’d speak to Caroline, who always said Hollie was welcome to stay, but Fliss rarely took her up on the offer. She needed to do something to rid herself of the doubt that had formed since the arrival of the TV crew.

Fliss glanced at the pieces of tape from twenty different angles in every kind of light to try and see whether they would be spotted against the dark blue carpet. To rid herself of any further anxiety on the matter, she strategically placed some of Hollie’s toys and books. On all the weekends Ben visited, he’d never once shown any inclination to help with the tidying. As she assessed the scattering of toys she couldn’t work out which was sadder. That she needed to hide the fact she’d signed up for the show or that she considered her husband a visitor in their family home.