When Hayley rang Ellen and Mark’s doorbell she listened for the familiar sound of Morgan’s little feet pitter-pattering on the hardwood floor, but she heard nothing, not even Morgan the dog’s bark. She didn’t have much time to wonder what other oddities awaited on the other side of the door because Mark opened it, one arm already in his leather jacket.
‘Hey, you,’ he said. Hayley breathed a sigh of relief. At least Mark seemed to be his normal, curly-haired, friendly self. But then he lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Ellen told me to go for a walk. Make that a long walk.’
‘Really?’ Hayley said, and frowned.
‘Well …’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘You know. Anyway, we got a gecko this morning, so she’s in a good mood. Ellen, I mean, not the gecko.’ Mark chuckled.
‘Where’s Morgan?’ Hayley said, looking around. Surely she and Ian would have paid for at least one round of IVF. They could have funded an entire clinic.
‘Who? Is someone else coming round?’
‘No, I … I …,’ Hayley stammered.
Shit!
‘Okay but listen, Ellen won’t tell you this because she’s as stubborn as a constipated mule, but she misses you. A lot. We both do. I’d better go. Good luck.’ He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze and disappeared down the garden path, zipping up his jacket as he went.
As Hayley walked down the hall to the kitchen, wondering why Ellen missed her, she stopped to have a quick look around the living room. Nothing seemed to have changed compared to when Hayley was there the day before; there were still no signs of a little girl – or boy – living there.
Ellen was in the kitchen, ironing a pair of Mark’s trousers, and she stopped to look up when Hayley walked in.
‘You’re very smart,’ Ellen finally said.
Hayley looked down at her black Gucci dress and impossibly high heels. ‘We had a snobby party but I did a bunk.’ She grinned and Ellen looked at her with a furrowed brow but made no comment. ‘Thank god you’re in. I really need to talk to you. I think I’m going mad.’ She pointed at the tank on the kitchen counter. ‘What’s that?’
‘It’s our new Leopard Gecko,’ Ellen said. ‘We got her this morning. I’m thinking of calling her –’
‘Morgan?’
Ellen’s eyes widened. ‘Yeah, how did you know?’
‘You always liked the name,’ Hayley answered as she put her arms around Ellen for a hug. ‘It’s so good to see you.’
She felt Ellen stiffen and then push her away. ‘Have you been drinking?’
‘What?’ Hayley waved a hand. ‘Oh, yeah. I had a gin and tonic but only because a short fat bloke made a pass at me.’
Ellen attempted to laugh but the unhappy sound seemed to catch in her throat. ‘Is that your latest excuse?’
Hayley’s expression turned into a frown. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh for god’s sake,’ Ellen said as she resumed ironing the trousers with such vigour it would have done the Royal Navy proud. ‘I haven’t seen you for nine months and you’re still lying.’
‘Nine months?’
Ellen shook her head. ‘When Mark said you called I thought you were ready to do something about it. I meant what I said when we met last time. I won’t see you until you accept you’re an alcoholic.’
‘Hang on! I’m not an alcoholic.’
Ellen rolled her eyes and put the iron on its end. It made a loud hissing noise as the steam escaped and billowed towards the ceiling. ‘Then there’s nothing left to say, so why don’t you leave?’
‘Wait, don’t make me go,’ Hayley said. She paused and ran a hand over her face, wondering how she could possibly explain what was going on when she didn’t fully understand it yet herself. She had to try. ‘You’re sure I didn’t see you yesterday?’
‘What?’
‘You don’t remember anything? About me waking up with Chris Jenkins.’
‘Chris Jenkins?’ Ellen said as she bent over to unplug the iron. ‘Bloody hell, Hayley.’ When she straightened herself back up she put her hands on her hips. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve had an affair with him too?’
Hayley took a deep breath. ‘And you don’t know Rick, do you?’
‘Rick who?’ She paused. ‘You should see a doctor.’ An even longer pause. ‘A shrink.’
Hayley pressed her hands over her eyes, trying to think.
I’m not married to Chris. I’m married to Ian. Yesterday was Saturday. Today is Saturday.
She caught her breath and watched as Ellen’s steely glare surveyed her every move.
This must be another glimpse, surely. Just a quick look at the way life might have been.
Wondering what if had been a fun game, at first, one she’d play during her commute. A harmless distraction – except the daydreams had become more and more frequent, to the point of becoming almost all consuming. She’d fantasise about where she would be, what she’d be doing, and with whom. And now she didn’t need to wonder anymore. Somehow she’d moved from one alternate life to another.
But how? And which life is real?
She gasped.
Is anything real? Am I supposed to choose?
‘Help me,’ Hayley whispered as she lowered herself into a chair. She hated the disapproval in Ellen’s eyes, something she hadn’t seen since she’d told her she was moving to Edinburgh. ‘Talk to me. Please.’
Ellen stared at her, sighed and flicked the kettle on. She silently dropped a teabag into each of the mugs she got from the cupboard.
‘I’ll make us a sandwich,’ she said, ‘Looks like you could do with ten.’
Without another word, Ellen pulled a loaf of bread from the cupboard and fetched cheese, tomatoes and mayonnaise from the fridge. When she’d finished making their snack, she loaded up a plastic tray then gestured for Hayley to follow her to the living room, where she sat down.
Hayley collapsed on the sofa opposite, pushing off her Louboutin’s and curling her feet underneath her. When Ellen passed her a full plate, she greedily sank her teeth into the squidgy sandwich and almost ate half of it in one bite.
‘So what do you want to talk about?’ Ellen asked.
Hayley put a hand over her mouth as she chewed quickly and then swallowed. ‘Tell me about Ian and me. Tell me about you and me,’ she said. ‘Tell me your side. It’ll help me figure things out.’ She realised Ellen would think she was owning up to being an alcoholic, but she didn’t care. Details, however small and potentially insignificant, might help her get out of this mess.
‘You want the whole, warts-and-all, ugly truth?’
‘Yes, all of it.’
Ellen looked at her for a moment and pursed her lips, apparently contemplating the options. ‘On three conditions,’ she finally said.
‘Anything,’ Hayley said, bobbing her head up and down. ‘Anything you want.’
Ellen counted on her fingers. ‘One, you’ll shut up until I’ve finished.’
Hayley put the rest of her sandwich down, then pretended to zip up her lips and throw away a key.
‘Two, when I criticise Ian you won’t defend him like you usually do.’
‘Not likely,’ Hayley said and Ellen shushed her. ‘Sorry. What’s the third?’
‘You won’t pretend everything’s,’ she made air quotation marks, ‘absolutely-fucking-perfect.’ Hayley shook her head.
‘Right then. My take on you and Ian? Blimey,’ Ellen shook her head as she sat back. ‘The match made in the depths of hell. I don’t even know where to start.’