Page 66 of The One Day You Were My Husband
Lucas was apologetic, but ultimately it had been his parents’ decision to terminate the lease, and he’d felt obliged to come and help.
“They are not being very well,” he said, not quite able to meet my eye. “My mother is very ill because of this events. I am sorry, Carrie.”
“They can’t do that! This is my home!”
He looked desperate. “I am sorry. But…well, oh dear.”
“Oh dear what, Lucas?”
“Ah…the thing is, Carrie, Johan wants you to leave this flat also. He has asked us to make this happen.”
“He wants…Why? What do you mean?”
“We have no choice. I am sorry.”
That was the last time I ever saw Lucas.
Dad wasn’t in London that week; he’d finished work for Christmas and was in Devon with Nicola. Dell was on call. None of my other friends answered their phones. A hidden hazard of having only medical friends in your phone contacts, I thought, as I dragged the suitcase toward Whitechapel, wondering what to do. No help at hand when you find yourself thrown out of your home by the man you married a couple of months earlier.
—
My mother’s flat was five minutes’ walk from St. Mary’s Hospital, between Lancaster Gate and Paddington, but she’d only invited me inside a handful of times. It was the place she’d gone when she left Devon and moved back to London, and I’d always suspected that having Maya or me there would have been too painful a reminder of herfailings. Tonight, even though she’d agreed to put me up, she still insisted we meet at a Malay restaurant nearby.
My cheap suitcase sat beside us at a small teak table, on which sat a great pile of my mother’s concern for me: rich, fattybak kut teand a pork-rib stew with saltyyau char kwaifor dipping. There was a bowl ofnasi lemak, some sardine sambal, and cucumber and peanut salad. I had to make Mum stop when she tried to order roasted okra and sambal potatoes, “just in case.”
Mum watched me trying to eat for a few moments before saying, “Carrie, I want you to have my flat.”
I put my chopsticks down, grateful for a chance to stop pretending I was hungry.
“I’ve been offered CEO of the Long Foundation. They’re a women’s charity in Brighton. I’m going to move down there, and I want you to have my flat for the next year while you do this job in Paddington. Your new hospital’s on the doorstep, and you need stability right now. You need somewhere to call home.”
“But…surely you can commute?”
She shook her head. “I want to give this project everything I have, and I can’t if I’ve got to spend three hours a day on public transport.”
She watched me for a while, then put down her own chopsticks. It was a Tuesday night, nearly 10 p.m., but the restaurant was full. Above us, a speaker was playing music that might or might not have been Malaysian. To me it just sounded like Thailand.
“I’ve failed you,” my mother said, to my astonishment. “I flew out to Thailand on a great white horse, convinced I’d be able to rescue Johan. But I failed abysmally. I failed him, and I failed you.”
“Mum, he was guilty! He openly admits to having done it! What could you possibly have done?”
“All I could think of was getting justice for him—for you. It didn’toccur to me that he might actually have done it. I didn’t pause. I didn’tthink. I never do.”
“But you tried. I was on my own and desperate, Mum—you flew out to be with me. I’d have gone under if you hadn’t.”
Mum looked relieved. “I suppose it’s more than your father managed.”
“Mum.”
“Sorry. But I was disappointed by his absence. I’d have thought he’d set aside his loathing of me for at least a couple of weeks, given what you were going through.”
“He was in touch every single day. And he did offer to come to Thailand. He was only in Bangladesh; it wouldn’t have taken him long. But we both agreed you were the best person for the job.”
“Except I wasn’t,” Mum said, angry again. “I didn’t achieve a thing. I have never been a good mother, and yet here I am, having failed you again. I love you, Carrie. But I was never made for this job.”
I had never heard my mother speak in this way.
“Please try to forgive me. And even if you can’t, please take my flat. I want you to have somewhere safe and easy near your work. You need it.”
