Where There's Smoke

“Then there’s something wrong with you.” Lucy began to take a drink, then lowered her glass as another argument occurred to her. “I know some women are perfectly happy putting their career before everything, but I just don’t think you’re one of them. And, let’s face it, you’re not getting any younger.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, you’re not. You’re thirty-four next year. You might like to think you’re Superwoman, but your biological clock’s running the same as everyone else’s. Don’t you think it’s about time you started thinking about having a family, and—”

“Oh, come on!” Kate’s wine sloshed as she banged down the glass. “Hear me out—”

“I don’t have to, I know what you’re going to say! I should get married, settle down, cook tea! Sorry, but I don’t think so. You might be happy being a housewife, but there’s more to my life than that!”

She was surprised herself by the heat in her voice. Lucy looked at her for a moment, then wrapped her arms around her legs and gazed at the fire. “Perhaps there is. But I’m not the one who’s been in tears, am I?”

The flames popped and crackled in the silence. “Sorry,” Kate said. “I didn’t mean that.”

“It’s all right.” Lucy turned to her again. “I meant what I said. And you can scream and shout all you like about not wanting a relationship, and not wanting to settle down. But I’ve seen how you are with Angus and Emily, so don’t try to tell me you don’t want children, because I won’t believe you.”

Kate tried to produce a denial, but none came. Lucy nodded, as if this confirmed her point, but before she could say anything else they heard the front door being unlocked. “Sounds like the reading finished early,” Lucy said, cocking her head. She leaned forward quickly and put her hand on Kate’s knee. “All I’m saying is, ask yourself what you really want. And then do something about it.” She fixed Kate with a firm look, then sat back as footsteps approached down the hallway. Kate reached for another piece of kitchen roll.

“Are my eyes red?”

Lucy stretched, twisting her hands from side to side above her head. “No, and it wouldn’t matter if they were,” she said, through a yawn. “When Jack’s had a couple of pints he wouldn’t notice if you were starkers.”

The lounge door opened and a heavily built man bustled in, grinning. His wiry, black hair was thicker on his forearms than it was on his head. He bent and kissed Lucy. “All right, luv? Hi, Kate.”

Kate smiled at him. He examined the cold contents of the foil containers, absently rubbing his slight paunch, then sank down into the high-winged leather armchair behind Lucy. Lucy leaned back against his legs. “Good meeting?”

“Not bad. Gavin’s got a new collection of poetry he’s thinking of putting out, and Sally’s got an idea for a new distribution system...”

Kate stopped listening. Although being with Jack and Lucy was like putting on a comfortable pair of slippers, she knew she would leave soon. The thought of going back to the barrenness of her empty flat depressed her, but sometimes she couldn’t help feeling like an outsider, a spare setting at an already complete table. She stared back into the fire as Lucy and Jack’s voices lapped around her. A piece of coal made a snapping noise. The flames danced and quivered, always on the verge of shapes that she could never quite recognise.

That night Kate dreamed she was in a railway station. It was vast. People hurried past, ignoring her. She knew her train was about to leave, without knowing where it went from. In front of her was a huge timetable, but the words on it were somehow indecipherable. Gripped by a terrible urgency, she began forcing her way through the crowds, but as she did, she became aware that she had lost something. Even in the dream she didn’t know what it was, only that she couldn’t go on without it. She tried to retrace her steps, pushing back against the mass of people, but she was in another place now, further away than ever. The urgency became panic. She ran blindly through the station, filled with an awful need to find what she had lost, knowing that time was running out. And all the while everyone around her walked with assured intent, and the Tannoy blared out in a foreign language.

The dream left her with a vague sense of unrest next morning. As she drank her orange juice and waited for the toast to pop, she had the feeling that this wasn’t the first time she’d had it, only the first she could remember. Kate decided she wouldn’t mention it to Lucy. She would only read too much into it.

Chapter 3