Where There's Smoke

She caught the tube for the three stops to Oxford Circus.

By the time she emerged from the Underground, a watery sun was shining through the cloud. Kate turned her face to it gratefully. People thronged past, intent on their own business. The rest of the world was still there, unchanged.

She called in at a café and had a cup of hot chocolate. After drinking it she decided she was hungry and ordered a mozzarella and tomato sandwich. The taste of olive oil made her think of summer. It would soon be spring, she realised, with surprise. The thought gave her a further boost.

Kate left the café and browsed outside shop windows. She stared into a display of baby clothes. There were tiny sweaters and jackets, miniature jeans and boots. She caught sight of her reflection in the glass and saw that she was smiling. Everything passes, she told herself.

She wasn’t confident enough to walk to the station that evening, though, or not to take a taxi back to her flat at the other end. As the light fell, some of her earlier fears revived. Kate asked the taxi driver to wait until she had unlocked the front door. Dougal was waiting outside by the step. He yowled irritably when he saw her. Even though he had rarely used it, he seemed to have taken the disappearance of the cat flap as a personal slight.

The tom cat ran upstairs ahead of her. There was always a moment of anxiety as she went from room to room, quickly drawing the heavy curtains before turning on the lights. But, as usual, the flat was empty.

She fed Dougal, and grilled herself a piece of plaice. She baked a potato in the microwave, putting it in the oven to crisp while she chopped carrots into strips, then blanched them quickly in boiling water and drained them out onto a plate. Dougal showed more interest in her fish than his own food, and eventually she gave in and flaked a small piece into his dish so he would leave her alone.

She took her plate through into the lounge. She had developed the habit of taking the fire extinguisher with her from room to room, but tonight she resolutely left it in the kitchen. Curling her legs under her, she ate with a fork while she read the brochures she had picked up at lunch-time. They showed push-chairs and prams, cots and cradles. Kate felt almost intoxicated as she looked at them. This was the future, this was what she should be focused on, not the petrol fantasies of a disturbed mind.

When the phone rang she thought it would be Clive. He had already called once, briefly, to say he would be away longer than he expected. His brother’s funeral had been the day before, and she guessed he would call again soon, if only to say he still didn’t know when he’d be back. She set her plate on a shelf, out of Dougal’s reach, and went into the hall to answer the phone. “Hello?”

“Kate?”

It was a man’s voice, familiar but not Clive’s, and she stiffened for the instant it took to place it. “It’s Paul.”

She put her head against the wall. Her heart thumped with anticlimax. “Are you still there?” he asked.

Kate straightened, wearily. “What do you want?”

“Nothing. I just thought I’d phone, see how you are—”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you.” She was already lowering the phone.

“No, wait, wait, wait, wait! Please!”

It was that please that stopped her. She hesitated, then raised the phone again. “All right. I’m waiting.”

She heard him breathing. “Look, I’m — I know you don’t want to talk to me, and I can’t blame you. I just phoned because, well, because — oh, shit, look, I’m trying to say I’m sorry.”

Kate was too surprised to answer. Paul waited a moment, obviously hoping she would.

“Kate? I said I’m sorry.”

There was none of the arrogance she’d come to expect in his voice. Even so, she half expected some catch. “You’re sorry?”

It was all she could think of to say.

“Yeah, I know it’s a bit late in the day, but... I just wanted to tell you.”

Curious, now, she tried to detect some hint that he was acting. But he spoke without any of his usual bombast. “What’s brought this on?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, lately, and...” He gave an uneasy laugh. “All right, it was getting arrested that did it. Arrested again, I should say.”

Kate tensed for the accusation. It didn’t come.

“It was... well, it was no joke.” He sounded sober, still shaken by it. “The first time I got arrested, after I’d put the brick through your window, I was too pissed off to think about what was happening. I blamed you. You know what I’m like, it’s always somebody else’s fault, never mine.”