If You're Not the One (32 page)

‘I think you have feelings for her. Do you?'

Suddenly Jennifer knew that this was the crux of the matter. Probably had been for weeks.

‘Oh Christ,' said Max, sounding angry now.

‘I mean it, Max. I want to know. Do you have feelings for Judith? Because I think you might. I think that's why you hardly look at me these days. I know you think I'm a mad, crazy cow but you're the one who keeps making me feel like that. You used to make me feel beautiful and loved and happy and now I'm just miserable all the time and feel like I'm constantly waiting for you to announce something.'

Max looked pained and refused to even glance in her direction, staring into the middle distance instead.

‘I don't have feelings for her,' he said quietly.

‘Swear on the girl's lives,' said Jennifer so menacingly that Max actually gulped.

And then he did something that practically cracked her heart in two. He finally found it in himself to look at her briefly but then couldn't hold her gaze or say what she so desperately needed him to say. So he looked away again and sighed. A heavy, sad, terrible sigh that felt like such a huge sign of betrayal that Jennifer thought she might actually be about to have a panic attack. Her whole body went cold and clammy. She wondered if she was going to be sick or faint.

‘You'd better tell me everything,' she said, ‘and I mean everything.'

Even as she was saying this, she was wondering if this was the end of her marriage. It was so surreal. Could this be the end of life as she knew it? She willed Max with every cell in her body to make it all go away. To look at her in such a way that she would know he was playing with her, trying to be funny. Only that could make this all OK. But he didn't.

Instead he said, looking truly wretched, ‘Jen, I swear there's not really anything to tell. Nothing has actually happened and that's the god's honest truth…'

‘But…'

‘But nothing,' he repeated, getting up and coming over to her.

‘Don't lie to me,' she warned him and as he reached over to touch her arm her entire body flinched, a totally
reflex action. It was as if subconsciously she was scared he would harm her. This was harming her. The pain she was experiencing was on a physical level. Again she wished fervently she wasn't dressed as she was and yet it hardly mattered.

‘Tell me.'

‘There's nothing to tell.'

‘But you'd like there to be.'

Max gazed at her, his expression bleak, his eyes searching hers as if he hoped to find an answer through her. And then he shrugged, almost imperceptibly, and that was all she needed to know.

‘Have you had sex with her?'

‘No…'

‘But?'

‘I haven't…actually slept with her.'

Jennifer froze and for a fraction of a second time seemed to stand still. The house fell silent, and then she ran. Stopping only to discard her heels, she hurtled out of the room and practically threw herself down the stairs in a bid to flee. Downstairs in the hall she desperately searched for something to put on her feet that didn't come with a six-inch heel. These would do. An old pair of disgusting gardening shoes her mother had left the last time she'd been round. They were far too big but Jennifer didn't care, she just needed to be away. To escape from what was happening. She couldn't breathe. She'd go to Karen's. That's what she'd do. She wouldn't stop to think until she'd got
there. Wouldn't stop to contemplate what this all meant until she was safe with her friend. Karen was only ten minutes away. That's where she'd go.

When Max came thundering down the stairs after her she only increased her efforts to get away but he tried to block her exit by standing in front of the door.

‘What are you doing? You can't go out of the house dressed like that,' he said, his face frantic. ‘Jen, just stay so we can talk. You've got it all wrong anyway.'

‘Oh I don't think so,' she cried. ‘In fact, the only thing I've got wrong is putting up with your bullshit for this long. Now get out of my way.'

‘Look, calm down,' tried Max again, using the same tone he often used on the kids. ‘You can't go out dressed like that.'

‘Fuck off,' she spat, grabbing a coat from the hooks in the hall and shoving it on. She grabbed her phone from the hall stand so she could ring Karen and then, with every bit of strength in her body, shoved Max out of the way so that she could wrench open the door. Once free she sprinted down the road as fast as her oversized shoes would allow.

Max didn't know what to do. He suspected she'd be going to Karen's, or to start a new job as a pole dancer. Either or. Part of him thought it was probably for the best that she took some time out to calm down. Another part of him wanted to run after her, to grab her, hold her and tell
her it was all going to be OK. Suddenly he was hit by a monumental urge to simply say sorry. How had they got here? How had he let things get to this point? She was right of course. Over the last few months she'd picked up on his absence. Not a physical absence but his mind had been elsewhere and rather than admit it he'd let her think she was the one to blame. It was ridiculous and in that second Max was only grateful he hadn't gone the whole way with Judith. Thank god. Though what he didn't want to examine too much was that this was more down to circumstances than his own restraint. Tonight he'd seen the hurt and grief an affair would have caused and it had been the sharp reminder he'd needed that he didn't want to lose his wife. He loved his wife. He wanted to throttle her sometimes and Judith's attentions had been desperately flattering but from this moment forward he needed to sort his life out. It had all spun out of control.

He felt totally drained. Making sure the door was on the latch he walked out and stood at the gate where he called down the road. ‘Jen, what the hell do you think you're doing? Come back. For goodness sake, you've made your point.'

She didn't so much as look back though and eventually she was a pinprick at the bottom of the road. The boring bloke from number forty-two who'd witnessed everything and been rubbernecking quite spectacularly, gave him a judgemental look as he passed the house. Max returned it with a glowering frown.

Right, there was nothing he could do. He'd leave it for a bit, let her cool off and then send her a text telling her he loved her and that he was the biggest idiot on the planet. With that last thought, Max was just about to head back indoors, when he heard the ungodly sound of screeching tyres, a sickening crunch and a scream. From what he could make out the sound had come from the end of the street. His heart skipped a beat and the fear Max experienced in that second was white and petrifying. And then he did something he hadn't done since school. He prayed.

One of Jennifer's eyes, her left one, slowly opened. She couldn't focus on anything specific. As light flooded in it took a while for her retinas to adjust. They had become so accustomed to a vista of black. Everything was very hazy, very blurry and before her vision had had a chance to fine-tune itself, the eye snapped shut again.

Half an hour later the same eye opened once more and then the second one fluttered open as well. Only this time Max was in the room having just returned from the canteen where he'd bought himself a packet of Highland shortbread and a cup of tea.

‘Jen,' he cried. The sound of his voice penetrated through to Jennifer who knew he was talking to her. She knew Max was there. Where was
there
though? That bit was all a bit foggy and she was pretty sure that although she'd like to ask him, she wouldn't be able to. Articulating anything would be impossible at the moment. She wouldn't know how to.

An hour or two later and Jennifer's brain and body were making huge leaps back into the real world. The doctors
had swarmed around her as soon as Max had raised the alarm. Blood had been taken to check for levels of serum glucose, calcium, sodium, potassium, magnesium, phosphate, urea, and creatinine. Then, as Max had known they would, they'd wheeled his wife off to perform yet another MRI brain scan on her.

A while later and the results were in. As far as they could tell at this stage her brain was showing no signs of permanent damage, although it would be a long time before they could completely confirm it. After five long weeks Jennifer was officially coming out of her coma.

Max couldn't believe it. What he had prayed for each day was happening. It felt as close to a miracle as anything he'd ever experienced.

For the next couple of days Jennifer would wake up for short bursts, and sometimes be profoundly confused and at other times relatively lucid.

The moment when she recognised her husband and was finally able to speak was the best of all.

‘Hey you,' he said, stroking her hand gently with one finger. She was looking right at him and not as though he was a stranger as she had been previously.

‘Hey,' she said. ‘What's happened?'

‘You were in an accident, Jen. You got hit by a car. You've been asleep for weeks. We didn't know…' Max stopped, took a gulp and composed himself.

‘Eadie and Polly?'

At this Max was almost overwhelmed by relief and
happiness and it took every bit of his willpower not to break down. ‘They're fine, Jen. They're absolutely fine. I don't think either of them ever doubted they'd be seeing you again. I think they reckon you're Sleeping Beauty.'

That was more than enough for her first proper conversation though and as the doctor urged Max to let his wife rest again, Jennifer fell into a deep sleep.

‘Is she OK?' asked Max as he tended to every time she did this. ‘She hasn't gone into a coma again has she?'

‘No,' said the doctor, who happened to have been making his rounds. ‘Don't worry; your wife is doing phenomenally well. Recovery usually occurs very gradually though and Jennifer will take a while to acquire the ability to respond for any decent length of time. However, I really think her outlook is extremely positive. But, just be prepared for your wife to still appear confused at times and try not to worry if she does. It's totally normal after somebody has been in such a deep coma.'

It was a good thing the doctor had warned him about this because later on that night in the early hours Jennifer started muttering in her sleep. Max, who had been sleeping fitfully on the camp bed (which by this point in time he officially hated and viewed as an actual instrument of torture), sat bolt upright. ‘Jen?' he whispered, but when it became clear that she was only sleep talking he got up and went over to see what she was saying.

The next day, Karen brought the girls into hospital in the afternoon during visiting hours. They'd all decided
that with so much less machinery around her it was time for them to finally see their mummy again.

It couldn't have gone better. The timing was great. Jennifer was awake and clearly aware of their presence. She was so happy to see them. Just the fact she recognised them was another incredibly encouraging sign that she was on the road to a full recovery. Eadie and Polly had been lectured at length about not wearing their mother out and were rising to the occasion beautifully, being quiet and good as gold.

Until at one point they asked if they could sing a song to her. ‘What song?' asked Karen.

‘ “Gangnam Style”?' suggested Eadie.

‘No, that's probably not the best idea,' her godmother vetoed. ‘Why don't you sing Mummy a lovely lullaby instead? “Rock a Bye Baby” or something?'

The girls obeyed and as they started to sing Karen took the opportunity to take Max to one side and ask, ‘How are you bearing up?'

‘Good,' said Max, an emotional wreck. ‘I just can't believe this is all going to end OK.'

‘I know. Thank god.'

‘Karen?'

‘Yes?'

‘I'm so sorry you know. I never ever wanted this to happen and I can tell you now that I will spend the rest of my life making sure she's happy.'

‘I know you will,' said Karen sadly. ‘And it's fine. You
really don't need to apologise to me. Besides, now you can apologise to Jen herself.'

Max looked sheepish. It was obvious Jennifer had confided in her friend pre-accident that things weren't great. Not that she'd know the worst of course. He had no idea how much Jennifer herself would remember either. The suspense was nothing short of horrendous.

‘Listen,' reassured Karen, ‘I understand and I don't judge anyone else's relationships. After all, you get to our stage and learn that life isn't black and white like you think it is when you're young. It's bloody grey.'

‘Fifty shades?'

‘Ha ha,' said Karen. ‘And no, more like one thousand shades of grey, but it's all going to be fine. It'll all work itself out now that Jen's on the mend. I know it will.'

‘Thanks,' said Max. ‘For everything. For all your help with the girls, everything.'

‘You're very welcome,' said Karen.

‘Oh, and by the way,' said Max, ‘I was thinking of making a donation to the hospital.'

‘Oh, nice idea.'

‘Mm, I'm buying them a single bed with a really comfortable mattress so that the next poor bastard who ends up kipping in here might have a chance of actually getting some sleep.'

‘Good one. Now, Max, do you think we should stop Eadie and Polly singing now? Otherwise I'm just worried
Jennifer might actually wish she was back in a coma again.'

‘Oh god yes yes,' agreed Max, jolting back to the here and now and realising how right she was. The caterwauling was pretty terrible and Jennifer was looking glassy-eyed, dazed and a bit exhausted. ‘And excellent sick joke by the way. Jen would approve.'

‘Thanks,' said Karen.

Six Months Later

Karen, Pete and Suzy, and Jennifer's parents, were on their way over for Sunday lunch. It was early December and the kind of day you wouldn't go out in unless you absolutely had to, or unless someone else was cooking you a lovely leg of lamb and an apple crumble. The house was full of the smell of cooking, the girls were playing peacefully in the front room with their Play-Doh and Max was working out what sort of wine they should have with lunch and generally pottering about the kitchen pretending to be helpful. From the outside looking in, the scene was one of total domestic bliss. Which is precisely why no one should ever make assumptions about what's going on in anyone's household other than their own.

Jennifer may have looked content, but as she peeled and chopped carrots, what she was actually wondering was whether or not anybody would be able to hear her if she were to turn the volume on her iPod right up, go into the utility room and scream at the top of her lungs.

As she plunged the carrots into boiling water, Max slid up behind her and kissed her neck. ‘Hello, beautiful.'

She resisted a strong urge to elbow him away. Physical contact between them still made her feel tense.

‘OK?'

‘Yeah, you?'

‘I'm good,' Max said sincerely. ‘I'm just happy that you're so much better.'

‘Good.'

‘…and I think you and me are heading in the right direction aren't we?' he added hesitantly. ‘In fact I think you should try sleeping in our bed tonight.'

‘Maybe,' said Jennifer, nudging him away. The constant effort he was making almost repelled her. She bent down to open the oven to check on the meat. ‘This needs to rest,' she said, swatting away clouds of steam with a tea towel.

‘You're not going to leave me are you?'

Jennifer's stomach churned. ‘Don't be silly,' she said just as the doorbell rang.

Max looked so worried and full of despair that for a brief second Jennifer wanted to give him a hug and to tell him it would be OK. But she didn't. Instead the two of them manfully rearranged their expressions so no one would have a clue what was really transpiring.

Lunch was a raucous, slightly chaotic affair. Jennifer had to eat her meal one-handed with a fork because Eadie insisted on sitting on her lap throughout. Ever since
the accident she'd demanded constant affection. Not that Jennifer minded in the least. She couldn't get enough of her children either. Their physical presence was a comfort, especially as she was unable to shake off the feeling she'd had for months now. That she was standing on the edge of a cliff trying to decide whether or not to jump.

After the meal, people slunk away from the table to go and sit in the lounge until finally Karen and Jennifer were the only ones left. As they half-heartedly cleared away, and whole-heartedly picked at cheese and drank wine, Karen decided to tackle something she'd been meaning to bring up for ages.

‘How much has Max told you about when you were in the coma?'

‘Not a lot,' said Jennifer, grabbing a clean tea towel from the drawer. ‘He's mainly filled me in on how uncomfortable his bed was. Why?'

‘OK,' said Karen, idly wiping a drip of custard from the side of a jug with her finger before sucking it off. ‘It's just there was one night, you had a seizure. I was there.'

‘Oh god, you poor thing. I don't think I did know that. That must have been horrific.'

‘Wasn't the best night of my life,' admitted Karen drily. ‘But anyway, the point is, you said a word out loud.'

‘Did I? Was it “make-up bag”?'

‘That's three,' snorted Karen, laughing.

‘Vodka?'

‘No you arse. You said Joe.'

Jennifer immediately stopped grinning. ‘Are you serious?'

‘Yes. Jen, have you met someone called Joe? Because things between you and Max seem very strained.'

‘No,' said Jennifer, arms suddenly slack in the sink which was full of washing up and soapy suds. ‘That's so weird. Max also told me I said that name one night.'

Karen looked worried.

‘…and this is going to sound odd, but it's like…somewhere along the line I have known someone called Joe because every time I hear the name, I honestly want to burst into tears. It's so frustrating. I feel like my brain knows but can't tell me. But then I've had it a bit since the accident with other things.'

‘Had what?'

Jennifer struggled to put it into words. ‘I'm not sure really. Just this feeling that I'm really lucky to have you in my life for instance and…like…I don't know…like I've lost things. Like when I hear that name, or sometimes when I look at the kids I get this huge pang of emotion. I don't know. I'm probably going mad.'

She looked so unsettled that Karen got up to give her a hug. ‘Come here you.'

Jennifer abandoned the washing up, dried her hands on a tea towel and took her up on her offer at which point she started to sob quietly into her friend's shoulder.

Karen held her at arm's length and looked stricken. ‘Jen, what the hell is going on? Tell me.'

‘I just don't think I can forgive him,' said Jennifer, eyes full of tears and panic as she finally confessed what she hadn't had the courage to tell anyone else. ‘I wish I could because I look at the girls and this house…Then I think about the life we have, the friends and how this is my family. But I'm just not sure I can do it any more. Part of me hates him and I don't know if I'm meant to be with him any more. I nearly died, Karen.'

‘I know, but you didn't. You're here.'

‘Exactly, so I'm determined to make the absolute most of whatever I have left. I don't want to be doing anything because I think I should, or because it's perceived as the right thing to do if it doesn't
feel
right. One day the girls will be grown up and have lives of their own and I know it would be awful and really hard in many ways but if I was on my own I would cope. I would bloody well find a way to make it work.'

Karen spoke firmly. ‘Jen, this is crazy talk. I thought you'd come to terms with everything. Max is so bloody sorry and he'll never ever, ever look at another woman as long as he lives. Isn't he entitled to one mistake? He didn't even sleep with her.'

‘So he says,' she sighed, her expression anguished. ‘But that's hardly the point. For months I was torturing myself while he was busy fantasising about having it off with that awful disgusting woman. I'm so angry with him Karen, and it's not going away. I want it to. I can't tell you how much I want it to because I don't want to lose my lovely
life because of his stupidity. I was happy for a long time. But if I can't love him any more…' she trailed off. ‘Do you think I should just settle for the children's sakes?'

‘I'd hardly describe what you've got as settling. You've got a lovely family and a great life. Plus, no matter how determined you are, I don't know if you
would
cope if you left. It's bloody hard out there these days,' whispered Karen urgently, conscious that the kids had suddenly thundered down the stairs and were now in the hall. ‘You'd have to sell this house, you'd be a single mum, the girls would suffer and, I hate to say it, but between the two of you there wouldn't be enough money to run two households. It would be a nightmare.'

Jennifer sighed, tortured by confusion. Everything Karen had just said was true. She wasn't stupid and had already considered all of this. Yet, for whatever reason, all she'd been able to see for the last few months was her life stretched out before her and that there were two directions she could go in. Two tunnels almost, only one was a far easier route to take. She could continue as she was, in what felt like a damaged relationship, full of resentment. And who could tell? Perhaps with a lot of hard work and effort they would get back on track.

But there was another way. Only when she tried to look in that direction, she had no idea what its future held. All she could be sure of was that it was full of uncertainty and difficulty but also of hope, excitement and change. It was one where she would start again, on her own, as Jennifer
Drew. This route thrilled her as much as it terrified her. The familiar versus the unknown. Safety versus risk. Head versus heart.

‘But listen,' added Karen, ‘at the end of the day I can't tell you what to do because only you know how you feel so whatever you decide to do, know that I am here for you. One hundred percent. Always.'

It was exactly what Jennifer needed to hear.

Later that night, after everyone had gone, Max put the girls to bed. As soon as they were settled he came to join Jennifer on the sofa where she was vaguely watching the news.

After a few minutes he took the remote control from her and turned the TV off.

‘What are you doing?'

‘I need to know, Jen. I'm sorry but I can't carry on like this any more. I need to know. I can't go around pretending that everything's OK any more because we both know it isn't and it seems the harder I try the more detached you become. So are you in or out? Because if you're in, you have to forgive me. You have to find a way to forget and to let me in or we don't stand a chance. But if you think you can't do that, then I need to know, for once and for all, because the not knowing is killing me.'

Jennifer stared at her husband knowing that their fate lay entirely in her hands. Which tunnel would she choose? She thought back to all the times she'd had to make a decision in the past and knew that none of them had ever been
as far-reaching as this one or would ever have as much impact on all of their lives. She was in control now. She needed to make a decision. Perhaps she already had.