SOPHIE MCKENZIE
Art’s words are still ringing in my ears. I stare down at the kidney bean stain again, blood drumming at my temples. ‘I guess we need a bit more time to think about all this,’ Art is saying. His voice sounds dull and distant. ‘Of course.’ Mr Tam is smiling. I can hear it in his voice, but I’m still staring at the carpet stain. ‘At this stage it’s just a suggestion. I think we should take it one step at a time.’ I look up. ‘That’s a good idea.’ Art puts his arm around my shoulders. ‘Absolutely.’ A few minutes later we’re outside the clinic and heading home in a taxi. Art refuses to travel any other way. He could have a driver if he wanted one, now that Loxley Benson is so successful, but he hates any appearance of elitism. I tell him taxis are just as elitist but he says they’re a practical solution – public transport being so slow and Art’s time being money. We don’t speak. I’m still reeling. Suddenly I realize he’s speaking to me. ‘Sorry?’ ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that.’ He takes my hand and holds it between both of his. I look down. The nail on the first finger of my left hand is bitten right down and the skin around the nail is chewed and red raw. I curl it over, out of sight. I hadn’t even realized my finger had been in my mouth. Art’s fingers exert a soft pressure. ‘Why did you let me make the appointment if you were so sure you don’t want any more IVF?’ Through the taxi window, the sun is low above Regent’s Park. A perfect burning orange disc against a clear navy sky with no sign of the earlier clouds. I turn back to Art. His eyes glitter in the soft light and my heart lurches with love for him. For all his ruthlessness in business, Art’s fundamentally the kindest man I know. 10
9781471111730 Close My Eyes (335h) updates.indd 10
15/01/2013 10:35:39