Forget Me Not

‘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 easily live abroad.’

I banged down a bowl on the worktop. ‘But I want you to live here. Near me. I’m going to need you, Xan. We’re going to need you.’ Tears were streaming down my cheeks.

‘I’m sorry,’ he groaned. ‘I can’t do that.’

‘Say you can’t take it,’ I wept. ‘Tell them your circumstances have changed. Tell them you’ve got “family difficulties”!’ I sank on to the chair.

‘But it’s agreed – and the point is I want to go.’

I pressed a napkin to my eyes. ‘You came here tonight to break up with me,’ I whispered. Xan looked out of the window. ‘That’s why you brought me the flowers.’

‘I’m … sorry, Anna, but don’t you see? I’m lucky to have got this – it’s a fantastic break. But yes, I knew it would spell the end for us, so I’d been bracing myself to tell you because I really like you and I felt sad at the thought of not being with you, but now … this …?’ He was shaking his head. ‘Please, Anna,’ he said. ‘Please don’t do it. We’ve been together for less than two months. It’s not long enough.’

‘It is for me!’ I shouted. My hands sprang to my face. ‘It’s more than long enough for me to have fallen in love with you!’

Xan emitted a frustrated sigh.

It was more than long enough for my parents too, I reflected. The same thing happened to them, in much less liberal times, but my dad had just done the right thing.

‘Let me come too,’ I croaked. And in the split second before Xan replied, I saw myself rocking a wickerwork cradle on a veranda, on a hot, humid night, beneath a slowly rotating fan.

‘No,’ I heard him say softly. ‘It’s out of the question.’

I stared at a tiny mark on the carpet. ‘Yes,’ I whispered after a moment. ‘You’re right.’ I’d only just started my course and my father needed me – I couldn’t abandon him now. I looked at Xan. ‘I can’t possibly go. Even if you wanted me to, which you probably wouldn’t.’

‘Anna – we haven’t been seeing each other long enough to make any plans – let alone have a child together. A child?’ he repeated. ‘Jesus Christ!’

I thought of my parents’ wedding photo – my mother’s conspicuously large bouquet of red roses not quite concealing her burgeoning bump.