Forget Me Not. Isabel Wolff
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He emitted a burst of mirthless laughter. ‘But – we’d known each other two hours!’
‘Yes …’ I nodded nervously. ‘I suppose we had.’
‘So that was …?’
‘Seven weeks ago.’
‘Seven weeks?’
‘That fits with what my GP said. And I had an early scan on Monday. I don’t think there’s much doubt. They date it from two weeks before, which means I’m actually nine weeks.’
Xan’s grey-blue eyes were staring wildly. ‘But … this is … terrible.’ My heart plummeted. ‘It couldn’t be worse.’
‘Well, actually, Xan, it could be – it really could,’ I stuttered, taken aback by his hostility. ‘Because, OK, it’s very serious – I’m not denying that for a minute – but far worse things happen every day, don’t they, really terrible things that people can never get over, like what happened to my mother for example, there’s no getting over that. But with this at least … at least no one’s … dead, are they?’
‘No,’ Xan said grimly. ‘But someone’s alive!’ He got up and walked over to the window. ‘Oh Jesus, Anna …’ He turned and stared at me, his smoke-blue eyes blazing with wounded fury.
‘Look,’ I said, ‘I … understand that you’re … shocked. I was incredibly shocked myself.’
‘Were you?’ He was staring at me with naked scepticism.
‘Yes. I was! I didn’t do it deliberately if that’s what you mean! But’ – I lowered my voice, anxious to keep the conversation as calm as possible – ‘I’ve had five days to think about it all and I believe it’ll be OK. I really do.’
‘No, it won’t! It’ll be a disaster!’
I was taken aback by his vehemence but tried to stay calm. ‘Look, Xan, I’ve thought it all through and of course I don’t expect you to marry me or even live with me if you don’t want to.’
‘Well, that’s big of you,’ he said bitterly. ‘Because I can tell you right now I’m not going to be doing either!’
I felt a stab to the stomach. ‘All right,’ I breathed. ‘If that’s how you feel.’
He threw up his hands. ‘Of course it’s how I feel – I’ve known you for less than two months! And how do I even know that it’s mine?’ At that I felt a pain in my chest, as though Xan had physically injured me. ‘You say it happened the night we met. But how do I know that you hadn’t thrown yourself at some other poor sod the day before?’
I stood up. ‘There’s no need to insult me. Of course it’s yours.’
‘How the hell do I know?’
‘Because for one thing I wouldn’t lie about it.’
‘Why not?’ he spat. ‘Plenty of women do!’
‘And for another I hadn’t slept with anyone for six months before I met you. But we’ll do a DNA test if you don’t believe me.’
Something in Xan’s softening expression told me that he did. He dropped on to the sofa, his head sinking into both hands. I heard him inhale deeply, as if trying to steady himself.
‘An iceberg,’ I heard him murmur. ‘I said you looked like an iceberg, Anna, the night we met. And I wish I’d been more wary. Because now I’ve been holed by you and this will sink me.’ I heard him emit a low groan.
I came and sat on the chair near to him. ‘Please don’t be like this, Xan,’ I tried again, my voice catching. ‘There’s no need. We’re both in our thirties, we both have resources and I repeat that you don’t have to make any kind of commitment to me. But the reason why I feel reasonably optimistic about the situation – although I agree it’s not ideal and I’ve been sick with worry myself – is because we live so near to each other and …’
‘Anna …’ he interjected wearily.
‘Please let me finish – and that’s the key thing, that you’ll be close.’
‘But …’
‘As for the responsibility,’ I went on, ‘I won’t expect you to go halves with me on that, or even on the money. I’ve always been independent and that won’t change. All I’d want …’ My throat was aching now. ‘All I’d want’, I tried again, ‘is for you just to be there. To play some part, however small. To be a father …’ I felt my eyes fill. ‘Even if our relationship ends, which, judging by your very angry reaction I think it might …’ I pressed my left sleeve to my eyes. ‘You only have to be there.’
‘But I can’t be,’ I heard Xan say. I looked at him. He seemed stricken now, rather than hostile. ‘That’s the whole problem.’
I stared at him non-comprehendingly. ‘Of course you can. We live less than two miles apart.’
‘Yes,’ he said. Hope rose in my chest. ‘We do now. But as of next week … we won’t.’
I stared at him. ‘What are you talking about?’
Xan heaved a profound sigh. It seemed to come from his very depths. ‘I’ve got a job, Anna. That’s what I was steeling myself to tell you this evening.’
‘You’ve got a job? Oh. But that’s … great.’ I stared at him. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘Not in every way.’ He sighed. ‘No. Because this particular job means I’ll be leaving London. In fact,’ he added quietly, ‘I’ll be leaving the UK.’
I suddenly felt as though I was slithering down an icy incline. ‘You’ll be leaving the UK?’ I repeated. ‘But why?’
‘Because I’m going to be a foreign correspondent.’
‘A foreign correspondent?’ I echoed blankly. ‘Where?’
Paris? I wondered in the two seconds before the axe fell. Or Rome? Rome’s not that far. We could have weekends together if he went to Rome. Madrid would be OK too – or Frankfurt for that matter.
‘Indonesia,’ I heard him say.
From outside I caught the distant wail of a police siren.
‘Indonesia? Oh. But that’s … far.’
‘Yes. It’s very far, Anna. I’m sorry.’
‘But … Indonesia’s nearly Australia.’
‘Yes. And that’s why I won’t be there for you – if you go through with this.’
If you go through with this …
I stared at Xan. ‘For how long?’
‘Two years.’ He sighed. ‘Renewable. Or what’s more likely is that I’ll be posted somewhere else after that.’
‘And when do you go?’
‘Next Thursday. They’re arranging my work permit now.’
‘But … you didn’t tell me you were applying for jobs overseas.’
He shook his head. ‘Because I wasn’t. This has come completely out of the blue. The guy who was due to go has had to pull out because of family difficulties. They needed to fill the post quickly, preferably with someone who knows the region well – and they knew that I do. I lived there when I was a teenager – my parents had a posting in Jakarta; and I did business there when I was based in Hong Kong.’
‘Oh,’ I said faintly. ‘I see.’ I went over to the table, picked up our plates and carried them into the kitchen.
‘And I told you, Anna – I’m a nomad. I could