says, ‘Can you keep a secret?’
Grace nods.
‘Given’s my lover.’
‘Why is that a secret?’
‘The first time we slept together we both thought it would be a one-off, so we decided it was best not to mention it to anyone. And then it happened again, and then again. I’m trying not to categorise what it is. But he doesn’t want anyone to know. It’s a fucking pain. Not even Luke knows.’
‘But why?’ Grace says, wanting to add,
And why are you telling me?
‘I don’t know. Do you think I should be worried?’ Linden asks, looking suddenly deflated. The sun has begun to drop and the sky is now a vivid crimson.
Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight.
‘So how did you two meet?’
‘Me and Given?’
‘No, you and Luke.’
‘We met at uni about seven years ago. I clocked him on the first day and thought to myself, “I’m having that.”’ She laughs. ‘Me and every other woman in the place. Plenty of the men, too, I don’t doubt. I was absolutely gutted when I found out he was gay, but we became good mates once I got over the fact he wasn’t going to fuck me, ever. I just wish he was more fucking punctual!’
Grace looks across the marina, longing for him to appear. Linden says, ‘Are you missing your husband?’
Which one?
‘No, not really. I’m quite enjoying the time on my own, to be honest.’ Though she knows ‘enjoy’ isn’t quite the right word she can’t think of a better one; and she certainly doesn’t want to begin describing the emotional journey of the last few days.
‘Do you have children?’ Linden asks, and Grace gives the barest details of Paul and Jason before mentioning Hannah, because she always does. She won’t pretend she never existed, the way they do. She feels the old, familiar sadness as a lump forms in her throat. Linden places her hand on Grace’s arm, looking as if she might cry herself.
‘I named the boat after her,’ says Grace.
‘Hannah Rose.
Hannah after my grandmother, and Rose after Pete’s.’
‘I thought your husband’s name was Gordon,’ Linden says, and so, although she hadn’t wanted to go into all that, Grace now finds herself having to explain.
‘My first husband died just after Jason was born. None of them are Gordon’s. We didn’t have any together. Couldn’t.’ It seems like a statement not connected to her in the slightest; the details of another woman’s life.
‘How did he die?’
‘He drowned, off the coast of Malaysia.’ It feels like the kind of thing a newsreader might say. A bloodless fact.
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t be; I’m not. By then I hated him. He was a right bastard.’ She watches Linden start to roll a joint, and says, ‘He used to beat the living daylights out of me. If I was ten minutes late back from the shops he’d fly into a jealous rage, asking me who’d I spoken to; had any men spoken to me? That kind of thing. Always accusing me of going with other fellas, which I never did. He thought nothing of clouting me, especially when he’d been drinking.’
‘Why didn’t you leave him?’
‘I had nowhere to go. I had three kids! I couldn’t just leave them behind, and I couldn’t afford to support them on my own. Divorce was still quite scandalous back then. I didn’t know anyone who was divorced.’
Linden’s mobile phone lets out a trill and lights up, announcing the arrival of a text. She leans over and picks it up. ‘It’s from Luke,’ she says, ‘He’s not going to make it back tonight.’
When she offers Grace the joint she declines, with a frisson of disapproval, and wonders whether to mention the cause of Hannah’s death but decides against it, not wanting to dwell on it. Night has fallen and bats are now circling the trees.
Linden says, ‘I knew he’d do this.’
‘Oh, well,’ Grace says, crestfallen, ‘I’ll have to meet him another time.’
She asks Linden where she is from and she replies, ‘I grew up in Leeds, then studied in Nottingham for three
Grace nods.
‘Given’s my lover.’
‘Why is that a secret?’
‘The first time we slept together we both thought it would be a one-off, so we decided it was best not to mention it to anyone. And then it happened again, and then again. I’m trying not to categorise what it is. But he doesn’t want anyone to know. It’s a fucking pain. Not even Luke knows.’
‘But why?’ Grace says, wanting to add,
And why are you telling me?
‘I don’t know. Do you think I should be worried?’ Linden asks, looking suddenly deflated. The sun has begun to drop and the sky is now a vivid crimson.
Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight.
‘So how did you two meet?’
‘Me and Given?’
‘No, you and Luke.’
‘We met at uni about seven years ago. I clocked him on the first day and thought to myself, “I’m having that.”’ She laughs. ‘Me and every other woman in the place. Plenty of the men, too, I don’t doubt. I was absolutely gutted when I found out he was gay, but we became good mates once I got over the fact he wasn’t going to fuck me, ever. I just wish he was more fucking punctual!’
Grace looks across the marina, longing for him to appear. Linden says, ‘Are you missing your husband?’
Which one?
‘No, not really. I’m quite enjoying the time on my own, to be honest.’ Though she knows ‘enjoy’ isn’t quite the right word she can’t think of a better one; and she certainly doesn’t want to begin describing the emotional journey of the last few days.
‘Do you have children?’ Linden asks, and Grace gives the barest details of Paul and Jason before mentioning Hannah, because she always does. She won’t pretend she never existed, the way they do. She feels the old, familiar sadness as a lump forms in her throat. Linden places her hand on Grace’s arm, looking as if she might cry herself.
‘I named the boat after her,’ says Grace.
‘Hannah Rose.
Hannah after my grandmother, and Rose after Pete’s.’
‘I thought your husband’s name was Gordon,’ Linden says, and so, although she hadn’t wanted to go into all that, Grace now finds herself having to explain.
‘My first husband died just after Jason was born. None of them are Gordon’s. We didn’t have any together. Couldn’t.’ It seems like a statement not connected to her in the slightest; the details of another woman’s life.
‘How did he die?’
‘He drowned, off the coast of Malaysia.’ It feels like the kind of thing a newsreader might say. A bloodless fact.
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t be; I’m not. By then I hated him. He was a right bastard.’ She watches Linden start to roll a joint, and says, ‘He used to beat the living daylights out of me. If I was ten minutes late back from the shops he’d fly into a jealous rage, asking me who’d I spoken to; had any men spoken to me? That kind of thing. Always accusing me of going with other fellas, which I never did. He thought nothing of clouting me, especially when he’d been drinking.’
‘Why didn’t you leave him?’
‘I had nowhere to go. I had three kids! I couldn’t just leave them behind, and I couldn’t afford to support them on my own. Divorce was still quite scandalous back then. I didn’t know anyone who was divorced.’
Linden’s mobile phone lets out a trill and lights up, announcing the arrival of a text. She leans over and picks it up. ‘It’s from Luke,’ she says, ‘He’s not going to make it back tonight.’
When she offers Grace the joint she declines, with a frisson of disapproval, and wonders whether to mention the cause of Hannah’s death but decides against it, not wanting to dwell on it. Night has fallen and bats are now circling the trees.
Linden says, ‘I knew he’d do this.’
‘Oh, well,’ Grace says, crestfallen, ‘I’ll have to meet him another time.’
She asks Linden where she is from and she replies, ‘I grew up in Leeds, then studied in Nottingham for three
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