Chosen Read Free

and the high chair at the end. She sat opposite him and tried not to drink the wine.
    â€˜Why would he go to
America
?’ she said. ‘Why didn’t he say anything?’
    Rod reached across the table and took her hand. ‘Forget Seth for a minute.’ His leather sleeve got into something sticky and she was glad. She pulled her hand away.
    â€˜OK. Who is it?’ she said.
    â€˜You don’t know her,’ he said, ‘and nothing’s happened and anyway, it’s not that really. I mean it’s not her. It’s just that she, she’s made me see . . .’ He got out his plastic pouch of Drum and made a roll-up, his fingers trembling so that the tobacco spilled.
    â€˜See what?’ She focused on the mole on his cheek that shifted up and down, just minutely, as he spoke.
    â€˜We hardly even knew each other when you got pregnant.’
    â€˜With your help.’
    â€˜And we never, like, made a real commitment, did we?’ He licked his Rizla and rolled the paper tight. He finished his glass of wine and poured another.
    â€˜Didn’t we?’
    â€˜Come on, Dodie,’ he said, ‘you know how it was. I said I’d stick by you and I did and then you were ill, but now . . . It’s not that I’m leaving you, I just need –’
    â€˜What about Jake?’
    â€˜â€“ some headspace, you know? I’ll always be here for Jake. I’m taking off.’
    She bit the knuckle of her thumb. ‘You’ll always be here but you’re taking off?’
    â€˜Got a flight to New Zealand.’
    â€˜You’ve
got
it?’
    â€˜It was a good deal. It was a now or never thing.’
    She gave in and swigged her wine. ‘When were you going to tell me?’
    â€˜Tonight.
Now
. I’m telling you.’ He bared his teeth in an attempted smile. ‘I’ll only be gone a few weeks, a month. I promise. Three tops.’
    â€˜Three
months
?’
    He shrugged. ‘Round about.’
    â€˜So,’ she said, ‘you’re leaving me.
Us
.’
    â€˜I just need to get my head together. You know I love Jake – and you.’
    â€˜When?’
    â€˜Coupla weeks.’
    â€˜Well, thanks for telling me.’ There was a Le Creuset casserole dish on the shelf. She could easily have brained him. ‘Is
she
going with you?’ she asked.
    â€˜No! Shit, I shouldn’t have mentioned that, it’s just meeting her made me see I need a break, you know, time out.’ He waved his long arms about. He was too big for her tiny terraced house; it had never fitted him.
    She had to get out of there and she stood, shaking off his attempt to hold her. ‘I’m going to make Stella tell me where Seth’s gone,’ she said, zipping up her jacket and cutting off his voice with a slam of the door.
    There are more fireworks, a feeble celebration in the wet; she hears a laugh, catches a whiff of gunpowder. And Rod’s taxi arrives, and behind it a police car. The blue light pulses over the wet privet hedge, making it surge and retreat like a wave.
    When he sees the body, Rod begins to heave and goes to the downstairs toilet, which means dodging Stella’s feet,which he misjudges, blundering against the legs and letting out a cry. The body rocks, the banister creaks. Dodie screws shut her eyes, sticks her fingers in her ears to block out the sounds of Rod retching and the faint rhythmic squeak of rope on banister.
    A detective with a beige moustache takes an initial statement in the kitchen, and then leaves her with a policewoman, Donna, who makes tea. The carrot is still there on the chopping board, still half-sliced.
    â€˜Did she live alone?’ Donna asks. She has bubbly blond curls and a face like a plastic dolly, way too pretty for her uniform.
    Dodie hesitates. ‘Yes. My brother used to live here, but he’s in the States.’ She’s amazed how smoothly this comes out, as if it’s normal