Errors of Judgment(83)

‘Fancy a quick one? I’m not meeting Cheryl till half seven.’

Felicity shook her head. ‘Thanks, but I’ve got a lot to catch up on.’ Then she stopped tapping and looked up. ‘Going anywhere special?’

‘Just a movie, then maybe a pizza.’

‘That’s nice.’

In the silence that followed, Felicity found herself wishing that she was going out for the evening with a normal bloke who had a job and who wasn’t a loafer and a sponger, and Henry found himself guiltily wishing that he was going out with Felicity instead of Cheryl.

‘OK,’ said Henry abruptly, hating himself for his disloyalty, ‘I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t work too hard.’

Felicity worked for another hour, then went home. She sat on the bus, staring out of the window. Perhaps she should try and make Vince hate and despise her, so he would want to leave. But she didn’t know how to make him hate her. She would have to hate him first, and she didn’t. She didn’t hate anyone except herself. Leo was right. She couldn’t let this crap set-up lurch on any more. Tonight she would spell it out to Vince. Then she remembered the other times she’d spelt it out, and how nothing had changed, and felt her resolve waver.

When she got in, Vince was sitting with his feet up, drink in hand, watching television.

‘You’re late,’ he remarked.

‘Some of us have to work,’ replied Felicity. She hung up her coat, and sniffed. ‘What’s that smell?’

‘Supper,’ replied Vince. ‘Thai green curry. I picked up some chicken breast and a jar of stuff from the supermarket. Found some boil-in-the-bag rice in the cupboard.’ He swung his feet off the table, stood up and went to the kitchen, returning with an overfull glass of wine. ‘Here. Sit down and put your feet up.’

Felicity’s heart sank. This happened every so often. Vince would realise he’d been pushing his luck, trespassing too far on her goodwill, and so he would go through a pretence of making amends, of cooking supper and giving assurances of looking for work. Meaningless gestures which, she now knew, went nowhere. She stared into her wine, took a large swallow. ‘Vince?’

‘Uh-huh?’

‘I know why you’re doing this.’

He dropped a kiss on her head and sat down next to her. ‘Because I love you, babes.’

‘Because you know how fed up I am of all this, and you’re trying to butter me up.’

‘Hey—’

‘No “hey” about it. You think you can play me like a piano, don’t you? Here’s me working my arse off every day to pay the bills, while you spend your jobseeker’s allowance down the pub like it’s pocket money. And every time you see me getting fed up with the whole malarkey, you think all you have to do is tidy up a bit, buy a bottle of wine, open a jar of cook-in sauce, promise to look for a job, and it’ll all be fine. ‘Cause you’ve got everything you want, haven’t you? A roof over your head, a bed, telly, food in the fridge – naturally you want to make sure you don’t lose it.’

He seemed genuinely wounded. ‘Fuck me. Is that what you think?’

Felicity drained her glass of wine. ‘Roughly, yeah.’ She stood up and stalked to the kitchen to pour herself another. She had never been so forthright before. This could be his cue to go off on one, to start throwing things around and shouting. On one level she hoped he would. An out-and-out stormer of a row might provide a good excuse to chuck him out. She took another swig of her fresh glass of wine to set her up, and returned to the living room. What she saw was not what she had expected. Vince was sitting on the edge of the sofa, hands clasped over his bent head, crying softly. Immediately she sat down next to him, stroking his shoulder, filled with anxious remorse for what she’d just said, forgetting the entire truth of it. Felicity couldn’t bear to see anyone cry, especially a big, strong bloke.

His voice sounded broken. ‘You don’t know what it’s like, Fliss. Prison wrecks you. It shatters your confidence.’ He wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. ‘I know it looks to you like I’m just some kind of sponger, and it kills me that you think that. I’m doing my level best to get work, straight up. Thing is, it’s going to take time to get my self-esteem back to where it needs to be.’ He turned to look at her. ‘How bad do you think I feel about not bringing anything in? Tonight was just my way of trying to do something right. You’re the only thing holding me together. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t even care what happens to me …’