Perfect Day

kettle.
    ‘They did counting in twos. Ben counted to a hundred in twos on the way home. He was delighted with himself.’
    ‘Lucy’s brought him a present. Only a rather dull pebble, I’m afraid. And she won a Tweeny ! You know those machines with claws that never ever pick up? Hers picked up.’
    Nell remembers the brief moment of triumph holding Fizz Tweeny to her chest like a talisman. How long ago it seems. And what was it that she wished for then, with her eyes closed, like a child catching a leaf?
    That everything would be OK.
    But what was she really wishing for?
    She pours boiling water into the teapot and puts it on the table between them.
    ‘Nell?’
    Chris is looking at her anxiously.
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘You didn’t put any tea in.’
    ‘Oh God!’
    She laughs, fills the kettle again, then sits down while she waits for it to boil.
    They look at each other.
    ‘Ben’s looking forward to tennis tomorrow.’
    ‘Lucy too.’
    She wonders what they would be talking about if it was a normal Friday evening and she knew that Alexander was coming home. She would probably be telling him more about her day, she decides, about her conversation with Frances . About how she had almost decided to sleep with him. That seems long ago now too, and strangely irrelevant.
    The kettle clicks off.
    Nell empties the teapot and puts two teabags in, one, two, smiling at him. Then pours in water.
    ‘Biscuit?’
    ‘Thanks. Have you eaten?’
    ‘Not really. We had snacks at a service station.’
    He pulls a face.
    ‘Lucy enjoyed it.’
    ‘I bet she did.’
    Nell opens a packet of biscuits and puts them on a plate. A tiny heart-shaped window of red jelly beams through each moulded shortcake surface. She wishes she’d chosen to open the digestives.
    ‘Do you think you know when someone’s dead?’ Nell asks. ‘I mean, can you feel it in your soul?’
    ‘I don’t know. Do you?’
    ‘Now? No.’
    ‘How do you feel?’
    ‘I just want to know. I can’t bear not knowing. I feel like I’m bracing myself for impact. It’s rushing up on me, getting closer and closer, but never hitting. I keep forgetting to breathe.’
    He goes to touch her hand that’s resting on the table top, but she shrinks away.
    ‘When did you hear about the crash?’ she asks, in a clipped tone that makes it sound as if it’s a little piece of local news.
    ‘Lunchtime news. I was in my workshop
    ‘Was there a moment when you thought “Sarah!”?’
    ‘I knew that she’d driven.’
    There’s a long pause.
    ‘I know what you’re feeling,’ he says tentatively. ‘How?’ Her tone’s dismissive.
    ‘There was a moment when I thought “Nell!” When you weren’t at school, and you didn’t answer your phone. I even came round. The car was gone...’
    ‘But you saw me this morning. You waved.’
    ‘I always wave. I couldn’t remember whether I’d seen you today.’
    ‘You wave at the house?’ Nell asks. ‘Even if you don’t see me?’
    ‘I wave in case you’re looking and I can’t see you.’ She laughs, unable to decide whether she likes him more because of that, or less.
    He smiles because he’s made her cheerful for a second, but her face immediately returns to seriousness.
    ‘God, Chris. What am I going to do?’
    ‘Pour the tea.’
    She pours tea into two mugs, pushes one across the table to him. They cradle the mugs in their hands, blowing steam away from the hot surface, as if it’s a very cold night, which it is not.
    ‘Have you rung the emergency number?’ he asks. ‘Yes. Do you think I should ring again?’
    He looks at his watch.
    ‘It’s only 9.15.’
    ‘I’ll ring at ten, shall I, if...?’
    ‘Yes.’
    Cradle, blow, sip.
    Nell suddenly notices that he’s wearing a track suit.
    ‘Where does Sarah think you are?’
    ‘Out for a run... I said I might call in to check you were OK. That’s when she said about seeing Alexan —’
    ‘She must think you’re training for the marathon,’ Nell interrupts. ‘All this running.’
    She doesn’t want him to say Alexander’s name, yet whenever Sarah’s is mentioned, she finds herself feeling all brittle and saying pathetically sarcastic things, like a jealous teenager.
    Nell stands up and tips the remains of her tea in the sink.
    ‘I’m going to check Lucy,’ she says. As she passes him, he catches her hand.
    ‘Nell... if...’
    There’s the slightest flicker of emotion in his pale blue eyes which seems to disappear as she observes it. She wonders why it