Part 10 (1/2)

'OK.'

'And Petra?' Lucy paused. 'You're beautiful and gorgeous and it would be wrong to settle for anyone less than a man who adores you.'

'OK.'

'And Petra? Double-lock your door tonight. Hide the key in the coffee jar right now and put the coffee jar at the back of your cupboard and balance something like a shoe on top of the cupboard door so it will clonk you if you open it. Go on. Just in case. You know how trauma can set you off.'

'OK. But I wish you were here, Luce, really here. Round the corner, like you used to be.'

'We'll be back later in the year. We'll be back for good in a couple of years' time.'

'OK. But please don't hang up yet.'

Petra didn't sleepwalk, she didn't have nightmares, she didn't even dream. She slept without knowing she slept; hours of uninterrupted nothingness making time pa.s.s, giving the brain a rest, allowing the heart to beat a little more calmly. And when she awoke, she was momentarily tricked by the charm of those first gentle minutes of reverie, by sunlight seeping in through the gap in the curtains promising a fair spring day. It was only when her slumbery focus sharpened to settle on the strange sight of her Birkenstock sandal perched on top of her ajar cupboard door, that she recalled what had caused her to sleep to such numb depths.

Sandals.

Cupboard.

Coffee jar.

Door keys.

Sleepwalk.

Lucy.

Rob.

Birthday.

And Laura.

And not me.

Her spirits tumbled with the thudding realization of the horrible truth. She closed her eyes though she knew it was pointless there would be no sleep while her heart was busy beating double time and the cogs of her brain were in over-drive. And closing her eyes didn't stop her tears and it didn't prevent her from staring straight into the bare facts of the situation.

Yet looking around her room, she suddenly hated every inch of it. She hated the trickery of the suns.h.i.+ne. It was all a lie. It wasn't a nice spring day at all. How could it be. She was waking up very alone, and for Petra that was a terrible place to be. A whole day more, an entire weekend stretched ahead of her as one long enervating slog.

I've spent my adult life avoiding weekends on my own.

Petra stumbled from bed and hurried to phone Eric.

'He's been s.h.a.gging someone else.'

'I'll bring wine I'll bring f.a.gs I'll bring chocolate I'll bring scented candles I'll bring Jerry Maguire I'll bring my Eve Lom stuff and give you a facial that'll make the world seem all right again. I'll bring all this stuff with me and much much more. I'll be over at lunch-time.'

Petra clung to the phone and loved Eric very much just then.

He brought a carpet picnic fit for a queen.

'I haven't heard a word from him,' Petra said quietly, having eaten her fill.

'He was s.h.a.gging someone else! There is no explanation!' Eric protested. 'You deserve so much more. It's s.h.i.+tty and it hurts but it's for the best. He was no good for you, the t.o.s.s.e.r. I never much liked him. None of us did. He's not your type and you're not his.'

Petra ruminated over this. 'But why didn't you say something sooner?'

'We did try but you were so full of how much you loved him. Note you loved him. You were very happy to love him, too. You wouldn't have heard me. Anyway, you wouldn't have listened.'

'He didn't love me,' said Petra, her strength rapidly sapping. 'I tried so hard.'

'Love should never be such a one-sided effort. Anyway, do you know what I think? I think he's a sad fat f.u.c.k, that's what. He probably did love you in his own way, to his own inadequate limit.'

'That's what Lucy says.'

'Petra, much better to have your propensity for great love big generous s.e.xy caring love than his limit for only so much lukewarm love. You'll be able to bestow it on a very lucky chap and next time, it'll be reciprocated.'

'I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be on my own.'

'That's why you worked so hard on Rob. Not because he was worth it but because you didn't want to be on your own.'

Early evening, a text message bleeped through to her phone and in the instant she prayed it would be from Rob, Eric prayed it would be from Lucy. Petra's prayer, it seemed, was heard first.

u ok? I can xplain!! plus jamais!! promise!! x.x.x 'Christ,' Eric muttered, 'if ever there was a time to go easy on exclamation marks.' But he felt bad when he saw how his cynicism, however reasonable, had swiftly stripped the hope and joy from Petra's face.

'Three kisses, Eric he never usually does kisses at all.'