‘I don’t think these new drink flavours will work,’ he said. ‘I made a mistake accepting the offer.’

‘There’s a lot missing from this marriage,’ said Valia. ‘You haven’t heard a word I’ve said. You’re too far into your own thoughts. Every day you’re like this. You’re somewhere else.’

‘I did in fact hear you.’

‘You’re not present. I talk to you and you wander into another room. I start a conversation and you start up with something else. We have different lives. There’s no proper connection here. Even simple dialogue: Hello, how was your day? I’m good, what did you get up to? We can’t even do that.’

‘This is a problem easily fixed. All that needs to change is my headspace.’

‘We’ve had this conversation a hundred times. We keep talking about it and nothing changes. I’ve thought about it for years. You can’t change. I can’t stay in this marriage.’

‘Because you don’t love me?’

‘Not the way I used to. A marriage should be more than this.’

‘Can you take a week off? I’ll handle the Stanmore restaurant and you can rest here.’

‘Let me leave without trying to convince me to stay. Let me go without a scene.’

Lucky watched Valia carry the suitcase through the door and out into the street. An unseen train whinnied beyond the treetops. At the kerb, Valia looked left and right. Which way would she go? he wondered. Right, to the station? Left, to Bridge Road, where she might soon find a taxi? Where would the taxi take Valia? If Lucky wanted to talk, how would he find her? Would she come back tomorrow?

Valia did come back. Then she left. And came back again. Then she left for good.

Chapter 17: 1965

1965

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