‘Yes, you probably should,’ she said, putting her fork down, her appetite suddenly gone.
Simon stood up and went to the door. ‘I don’t understand what just happened,’ he said.
Amanda looked at him. ‘And I don’t understand why you want to go back to your ex and why you don’t want to stay here. So I guess we’re even.’
Simon opened his mouth as though to say something, but then turned and left, closing the door behind him. Amanda sat at the table, wishing she could undo what had just been done.
33
Simon
Diana walked through the garden towards the pond, hanging on to Simon’s arm. Trotsky was running ahead, enjoying the sniffs on offer in the freshly dug garden beds.
‘How have you been?’ she asked him.
‘Good. Busy,’ he answered.
‘And how are things with Amanda?’ Diana asked.
‘Fine,’ Simon said. ‘She’s busy also.’
Except it wasn’t fine. They hadn’t spoken since her outburst, not that he hadn’t tried, but because she was working or she said she was too busy painting for the exhibition or she was seeing Shelley or Janet.
She was avoiding him and he knew why.
‘Here we are,’ he said as they came to the pond.
He had planted it out with the ferns and the papyrus and daylilies from Janet and in the pond were water iris, duckweed and some water lilies. It wasn’t yet flowering, but Janet said it would next year.
‘Oh it’s lovely, Simon, really lovely,’ Diana said. He saw her wipe a tear and he put his arm around her shoulder. ‘You’ve done so well.’
‘That’s not the surprise,’ he said. ‘Look down.’
Diana peered into the pond and then she clapped her hands. ‘Koi!’ she cried.
‘Yes, baby koi, so they can grow into the pond. There are nine, as it’s supposed to be good luck to have that number,’ he said.
‘I remember,’ said Diana.
‘And I’ve put the black netting that you told Janet about over it, so the birds can’t get them.’
‘Clever man,’ said Diana. She sat on the edge of the pond, taking care with her movement, and looked into the water.
‘Sit,’ she instructed him. ‘Let’s watch them swim.’
They sat in comfortable silence for a while.
‘When I was younger, I loved the koi. I would come see them every day, and then when I was eighteen my life changed, and I stopped visiting them.’
Simon was silent, listening carefully.
‘Shortly after they died, one by one, over nine months,’ she said. ‘I was so used to loss by then, I never replaced them. It felt futile…’
Simon could hear the bees not too far away. The water was calm, but the pump was making it ripple gently, and there was a scent of jasmine in the air.
‘What did you lose?’ he asked softly.
‘Not what, who.’ She said. ‘Two loves I wrongly believed would last forever.’ She gave a sad smile and then shook her head, as though buoying herself back into the present and positivity. ‘But enough about that sadness. Why are you wasting your time with Amanda and not telling her how you feel?’
