sight of all the things that mattered, and she’d become a victim, tossed along on the storm.
She’d let everyone down: darling Mum, who’d wanted her to be happy; Dad, who thought only the best of her; and Gran, who’d taught her to be strong, honest and courageous. Dear Gran. It was hard to think of her lying in that hospital bed without any light or expression in her eyes. After three weeks in Tamarin, waiting for her to wake up again, Izzie had realised that her beloved grandmother might never wake up again.
But despite the pain of all the things left unsaid, Izzie knew she couldn’t fail Gran now. She’d start again in her life and do it all right this time. She had a second chance and she didn’t want to screw it up. The first change was going to be Joe. She’d been hoping for what could never happen and crying into her pillow when it didn’t. No more. It was over between them, but not with her as the wronged heroine, screeching pain at him. It would be over in a dignified manner.
Her apartment felt like an icebox when she opened the door. The air-conditioning was playing up again. Switching it off, she phoned the super to get him to look at her air-con unit, then opened the windows to let a little summer morning heat in.
By the time the super arrived, she’d unpacked, piled her dirty laundry into a bag for the launderette, and had stripped off her travelling clothes for a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.
‘Hey, Tony, thanks for coming so quickly.’
‘No problemo,’ Tony replied and set to work.
‘You want coffee?’
‘Yeah, cream no sugar, please.’
While the coffee brewed, Izzie clicked on her answering machine to pick up her messages.
There were a couple from friends she hadn’t got round to telling she was out of town, a cold call from a telemarketer, and one from Joe. He’d stopped phoning her cell phone when she was in Ireland after his first five calls went unanswered. This message was from last night.
‘Hi, Izzie. I hear you’re home tomorrow…’
How had he heard that?
‘I wanted to say hi and I’m thinking about you, honey. Please call me when you get back.’
‘I’ve got to get another tool,’ said Tony, shuffling into the hall. ‘Back in a moment.’
‘Yeah, sure,’ she said absently.
She’d removed Joe’s cell-phone number from her speed dial, but she knew it off by heart anyhow. She keyed the number in and thought about pressing the dial button.
What would she say: Bye, and it was fun knowing you?
No. She pressed cancel, put the phone down and poured the coffee.
Carla arrived at half nine on her way to work with pastries from the deli on 29th and some gossip magazines.
‘Sustenance,’ she said, dumping it all on the coffee table. ‘I figured you wouldn’t have gone to the market yet to stock up.’ She hugged her friend tightly. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m fine,’ Izzie said, and immediately began to cry.
‘Oh, baby girl, cry,’ sighed Carla. ‘I knew you sounded too perky last time on the phone. How’s your granny?’
‘Still in no-no land,’ Izzie sobbed. ‘She’s just lying there in the bed. Within the next week, they’ll move her into a nursing home. The longer she’s in a coma, the less chance she has of coming out of it. That’s all that’s left for her now: she’ll be left in a bed in a home, and I can’t bear to think about it. It’s such a horrible end to her life. She deserves so much more…’
The apartment phone rang and Carla automatically got up to answer it.
‘Yes? OK, who’s calling?’ Carla’s sharp intake of breath made Izzie look up. ‘No, you can’t talk to Izzie, you asshole. She can do without you right now. She needed you three weeks ago, and you couldn’t be there, so don’t think you can skip the queue this time…’
Joe. Nobody else could make Carla sound so furious.
‘Let me talk to him,’ Izzie said, holding out her hand for the phone. ‘I’m OK, honest,’ she added.
Grudgingly, Carla handed over the phone.
‘Hello?’ Izzie said.
‘Hello you,’ he replied, soft as honey.
His voice was so comforting and she felt that pang of knowing that she’d have to turn her back on its comfort. Or it would kill her. What was the point of living a half-life with a man who’d never be hers? Endless sacrifices, being on her own for every Christmas, squirrelling time away on birthdays, taking trips where they’d know nobody, going to off-the-grid restaurants in case someone walked up to either one of them and said ‘hello!’ in a knowing tone. She knew what their future held if Joe stayed in his tangled-up life, and she didn’t want that.
She knew it would ultimately destroy her. And them.
‘What do you want, Joe?’ she asked tiredly, as if she’d lived out her thoughts in real-time and was suffering from exhaustion.
‘To see you and hold you,’ he replied.
‘You know what’s wrong with you?’ she asked. ‘You say all the right things at the right time and it’s killing me, Joe. Why can’t you be a straightforward bastard and let me hate you? It would be easier for me that way.’
‘Do you think I’m a bastard?’ he said.
‘Yes,’ she said candidly. ‘I do. You came into this game with a loaded deck and I have only myself to blame for playing along. I wish I hadn’t.’
‘Can I come round?’
Straight to the point – the captain of industry who realised he was on to a loser and knew that taking the meeting in person would work.
Izzie didn’t have the energy to fight. ‘Yes,’ she sighed and hung up.
‘You got rid of him?’ Carla asked.
‘Not exactly –’
‘He’s not coming here, I hope. Because, if he is, I’ll give the son of a bitch something to remember me by –’
‘Carla, don’t. I’m going to tell him it’s over.’
‘Hope so. He doesn’t deserve to have two women fighting over him, and that’s what’ll happen, Izzie. Men like him want to have their cake and eat it. He wants you and Mrs Charity Lunch Bitch.’
Izzie laughed. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘For what?’
‘For hating his wife even though she’s done nothing to either of us.’
‘I’m just following the script,’ Carla said, grinning. ‘The girlfriend’s girlfriends have
