Page 65 of One-Hit Wonder

She felt sick. Violently sick. She could feel the tomato and basil soup she’d had for lunch lurching around in her stomach, creeping bile-like up the back of her throat. She took a large sip of champagne.

“So—what… what are you going to do? I mean—are you going to stay?”

“With Tina?”

“Yes, with Tina,” she snapped.

Ed sighed and slid his hands across the tablecloth toward hers. She snatched hers back into her lap.

“Well?”

“Shit, Bee, I don’t know. I mean—I’ve wanted to be with you from the first moment I saw you. I’ve been ready to walk away from Tina and be with you and you’ve kept me at arm’s length. And now—it’s like—I mean—three babies, Bee—three babies. I made three babies. We made three babies. Me and Tina. I can’t… it’s… it’s just so incredible. It’s a miracle.”

“But you don’t love Tina.”

“I don’t. No. Well, I didn’t. I didn’t love the Tina who put her desire to have a baby ahead of everything. The Tina who only remembered I existed when it was time for me to wank into a jar. But this Tina—this Tina with three babies inside of her. You should see her, Bee—she’s happy—she’s glowing—it’s like she’s been reborn and…”

“Oh God, stop it, Ed—please, just stop…” Bee put her head into her hands.

They were both silent. A waiter poured some more champagne into their glasses. “Are you ready to…?” he began.

“No,” snapped Ed, “no. Sorry. Not just yet. Thanks.”

“Certainly, sir.”

Ed sighed and held Bee’s gaze for a while. He was quite obviously about to say something horrible.

“I want a clean break, Bee.” Yup, thought Bee, there it is. “I want to start again, with Tina. And that means… you know?”

“Yes, Ed. I know what that means.”

“And the flat. I don’t want to pay for the flat anymore. It’s not that I resent paying for it. It’s just that I don’t want to have to hide anything anymore. D’you see? From Tina? I want…”

“You want to erase me from your life entirely.”

Ed stopped for a second and stared at Bee. “Yup,” he said eventually, letting his head fall onto his chest.

These moments, thought Bee, these moments in life, soap-opera moments—they look so exciting when you see them on the television, at the cinema. But when you’re actually living them, they’re just so horribly hollow and bleak. And kind of, well… bland.

“I never wanted this to happen, Bee. I never wanted to abandon you. I wanted to look after you forever. I wanted to be with you forever. I love you so much, Bee…”

Bee looked up into Ed’s eyes, his funny little mouse eyes. And he did. He did love her. He was telling the truth. And she wanted to be angry with him, for loving her but still leaving her, but she couldn’t. Because, she suddenly realized, like she was awaking from a dream, that this was never going to have worked out. Of course it wasn’t. She’d been fooling herself. And in a way, the only reason she’d allowed herself to fall in love with Ed in the first place was precisely because he was married, precisely because she’d never be able to have him, properly. If only they’d met under different circumstances, if only what happened in 1986 hadn’t happened, and Zander hadn’t existed, and her whole life hadn’t turned into one great conglomeration of lies and deceit, one dizzying maze of separate compartments, she could have married Ed. She could have had a normal life where she spent weekends at home with her friends, a life where she knew her family, a life where everyone she knew knew everyone else. But 1986 had happened and Zander did exist and she was never going to have a normal life. And she had no one to blame but herself.

Tears started plopping down her cheeks and she tried desperately to stop them. She hated people seeing her cry. And she’d never cried in front of Ed before.

He looked at her with alarm. “Shit, Bee, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Don’t be, please,” she sniffed, dabbing at her eyes with her napkin. “It’s not your fault. It’s my fault. And I understand. I wouldn’t want you to leave Tina now, abandon your chances of having a family and a life. Really. I would hate that.”

“Oh, Bee.” He stretched out a hand again and this time Bee let him hold hers.

“I’ve made such a mess of everything, Ed. I had it all. And I’ve messed everything up. In the space of thirty seconds I messed up my entire life…”

“What do you mean, in the space of thirty seconds?”

“Oh nothing. Nothing. Just. God. Shit. This is horrible, isn’t it? I mean isn’t this—just horrible?” She sniffed again and laughed, and Ed gave her hand a squeeze. “Look,” she said, regaining her composure, “it’s better this way, you know. I think I’d fooled myself into believing that things would work out for you and me, but they wouldn’t have. Not really. It would never have been right. It would always have been a bit of a… you know, a mess. It’s better this way. It’s better.”

“I’m going to miss you so much, Bee Bearhorn. So much you wouldn’t believe it.”