She’s not ready, not at all, so she closes her eyes, listens in darkness as Lotte and Seb talk, their voices indecipherable murmurs. His voice, the brutal unfairness of the whole thing, makes her grab the side of the sink and kick, hard, against one of the new units. She hasn’t, she tells herself, strictly done anything wrong,
Their voices are getting louder now, they’re coming for her, and she remembers her golden rule. Don’t let him see that you’re scared.
The swing doors to the kitchen open and Lotte’s soprano sing-songs, ‘Abi! Sebbo needs to have a word about school.’
She is ready.
Abi walks, wiping her hands on her apron, into the main restaurant. It’s bright compared to the cool, dark cave of the kitchen. Lotte is talking, something about being sent burgundy aprons instead of the magenta she ordered, but Abi hardly notices because there, fragile as a reed, is the man who with just a word could destroy her new life in Waverly. Their eyes meet and she settles a little because she knows he doesn’t have the strength to break her – not today, anyway.
‘Hello, Seb.’ Her voice is clear.
He twitches at the sound of his name on her lips. ‘Hi, Abi, sorry to disturb you at work, but I thought it best to discuss the matter I mentioned without the children around.’ He’s practised his lines and looks nauseous now that showtime has arrived.
Something through the window catches Lotte’s attention. ‘Oh shit, is that a traffic warden?’ She’s spotted a man in high vis, standing perilously close to her car. ‘Shit!’ she screams again before flying out of the door towards the warden.
The sound of the door banging closed seems to wake Seb up. When he meets Abi’s stare, his eyes have changed; now they’re full of anger.
‘What the fuck were you doing,
She hates him, then – hates him from the very root of her being.
‘Trust me,
He shakes his head, looks like he wants to rip hers from her shoulders, but his voice quakes. ‘I doubt that. I doubt that very much.’
Abi is careful to keep looking straight at him as she says, ‘Look, I had no idea you lived in Waverly, no idea you were Rosie’s husband.’
‘Bullshit.’
Rage takes her then, shakes her body and pushes her in the last direction her fear wants to move: even closer to him. ‘You piece of shit. I have just as much right to be here as you.’
‘Why the hell are you here?’ he demands, tiny flecks of spit exploding from his mouth.
‘Because this insanely privileged fucking bubble of a town is my chance to change my life. Waverly happens to be the best opportunity for my kids to live somewhere beautiful. Where people bitch about slugs in their allotments and their biggest issues are dog shit and potholes. OK?’
He looks startled, appalled perhaps that she is a person with a life, responsibilities, desires. He starts breathing quicker then, hyperventilating, heaving around his words. ‘I have children, too. A wife. God. I could lose everything.’
Abi stands back as he bends forward, hands on his knees, his breath coming in painful-sounding gasps. She watches him fight to control his breathing. When he looks up, there’s sweat on his brow, spittle at the corners of his mouth; his face has turned an unnatural red, just a shade lighter than the scar on his upper lip, the scar that had given him away in Rosie and Seb’s warm kitchen. Abi is worried he’ll need an ambulance if he doesn’t calm down. She pulls out the nearest dining chair.
‘Sit,’ she says, ‘for God’s sake.’
He does as he’s told, elbows on knees, starts sobbing into his hands, making a quiet choking sound. Abi glances out of the window to where Lotte is now shrieking at the poor traffic warden. They still have a couple of minutes. Abi turns back to Seb coming undone in front of her, wishes she could simply leave him here, walk away. But the rubble of his life is now mixed up with the rubble of hers. She has to stay.
‘Listen, Seb,’ she says as clearly as she can, ‘I haven’t come to Waverly because you’re here. I have no interest in hurting you. I’m not going to blackmail you or cause any trouble for you or your family. What happened between us was … well, it’s in the past.’
He looks up at her, his eyes swollen and raw. ‘What do you want, then?’
‘Like I said, I just want the same as everyone else. The opportunity to change my life. To be someone else.’
Listening to herself, she realizes how badly she wants to be here, to be part of something. It is only now, living in Waverly, that she appreciates how painful life was in London, always on the periphery.
‘I tried your phone – your old number,’ Seb says weakly.
‘I don’t use that number any more.’
‘So, you’ve totally changed?’