Independent Jenny (3 page)

Chapter Five

“Babe, I’m at home, where are you?”

“Just out.”

“Please come home so we can talk.”

“I don’t have much to say to you Ross. I guess I need time to digest this.”

“I know I messed up, but we need to talk about this, surely you see that?”

“I don’t see there’s much to discuss.”

“Of course there is! Come on, Jenny. We must talk. Don’t you want to fight for us?”

I looked down at Wentworth. He was drenched but laid back enough not to care. I didn’t want to go home, or be around Ross, but I couldn’t sit there forever and I was getting cold.

I sighed.

“Okay, I’ll be back in half an hour.”

Wentworth shook himself off and trotted along next to me happily, and I tried to imagine what I’d say to Ross when I saw him, but my mind was blank. I didn’t know how I felt about him or our marriage anymore.

As I was about to put the key in the front door Ross opened it, but he didn’t look like my Ross anymore. He looked tired, older, worried, and pale. Wentworth greeted him excitedly and Ross rubbed him down with an old towel while I got changed into dry clothes.

When I came back down, there was a cup of tea waiting for me in the living room and I sat in silence while Ross talked for what felt like hours, alternating between begging for forgiveness and telling me how it could be fixed. He was prepared to go to therapy, to stay in every night forevermore, to basically do whatever I asked.

But as he waffled on, I didn’t really listen. I kept thinking about all the things he did that annoyed me. Little things, really, like leaving his socks around, and never cleaning the bathroom. Things that I may not have to put up with anymore, if I didn’t want to.

“Well, babe?” he said tentatively as he finished another long speech.

“Well, what?”

“Can you forgive me? Not now, I know, but in time?”

“I don’t know.”

I looked away from the carpet I’d been studying while he talked and back at his face. I couldn’t picture myself looking at him every day without feeling angry and bitter towards him.

“I think you should move out for a couple of weeks,” I heard myself say without thinking it through first.

“What?” He looked horrified.

“I think you should move out for a while. Give me some space. Maybe in time we can talk some more, maybe go on a date and start afresh. But I’m not promising anything.”

I wasn’t sure where that had come from. I didn’t know what I wanted. Well, I wanted him to hold me and tell me this was all a bad dream, but as that wasn’t going to happen I just wanted to be alone. I didn’t want to be around him now he’d betrayed me, but I also didn’t want to say it was over. Not yet.

“Okay, well, maybe I could stay with Aiden for a few days. Maybe we could go on a date next week?”

“We’ll see.”

He nodded and got up.

“I really thought you’d forgive me straight away. I don’t know why.”

I got up too. I couldn’t sit still any longer.

“Well, I really thought I could trust you, so we both learned something I guess.”

He packed up a few things while I made myself a sandwich. I was suddenly starving. I was sitting and eating at the dining table when he came in to say goodbye.

“Can we agree to still not tell anyone, just for now?” he asked.

I thought about it for a second.

“Okay.” I said, nodding. I didn’t particularly want the whole world to know, just yet, until I’d figured out how we were going to proceed. “Shane and Hayley know.”

“And Aiden of course.”

I nodded. His brother would keep it to himself.

He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, which felt strange and alien – I didn’t really know why. He’d kissed me a million times, so why was it any different now? They were still the same lips, even if those lips had been on another woman. Ugh. I wish I could erase the thought of some stunning, thin, blonde, model-lookalike from my head every time I picture her.

“So I’ll call you. Tomorrow, yeah?”

“I’ll call you,” I said. “When I’m ready.”

He nodded sadly. “I love you, Jenny.”

I nodded. He left. And then I wondered what I was going to do about the rest of my life.

Chapter Six

On Monday morning, I got up to get ready for work. It was surprisingly easy, considering I hadn’t slept much over the weekend and my whole world had been turned upside down. It was actually quite nice to get back into a routine and do something normal again. I could function without him, I realised. I thought about what I might do next weekend as I went about my morning preparation, ironing a blouse, eating my cereal, packing my lunch. Maybe I’d go visit my dad and Lorraine. Or I could go to the seaside. I could do anything I wanted, without asking Ross what he thought. It was kind of nice to decide on my own.

I made a living as a photographer. I’d, in my father’s words, ‘wasted’ my sociology degree by going on to buy my favourite possession – my beloved Canon camera – and attending college in the evenings while I gave people walking tours of Bath during the day. Then I set up my own business.

I took photos of weddings, family events, did some work with schools and local clubs and charities, and offered family photo shoots in my studio, which was in fact a converted garage I rented with a tiny office at the back. Today I headed there to take some photos of a new mother and her baby.

As I walked down into town, I wondered if I would be able to cope with photographing weddings most weekends if I was a divorcee. What would be the point in taking photos of loving couples when you knew most of them would end up betraying each other? Instead of taking joy in someone else’s special day, I’d just become a bitter, lonely old spinster with a camera.

Despite my pessimistic outlook, that day flew by, and I managed to keep it together. The mother and her baby I took photos of did not appear to notice my red eyes, or they didn’t say anything if they did. Not that the baby could talk, of course. I also took a photo of some grandparents and their four grandchildren, who could barely sit still for thirty seconds at a time. Luckily, I was skilled in bribery and bought out my secret bag of sugary sweets to get them to sit still. Early afternoon I went to Shane’s to sit with him and complain about the state my life was in. He gave me sympathy. And a free blueberry muffin. Yum.

The next few days passed by in much the same way, and I felt a strange sense of calm. Ross rang me regularly but I never answered. Shane and Hayley came over in the evenings and the times I was alone I took long bubble baths, read books, painted my fingernails and watched a lot of television. It was fine, being on my own. So long as I didn’t think about what had happened, I could get along quite nicely and one day I even managed to go a whole five hours without crying.

I drank more wine that week than I had since I was a student. It tasted better now, though. I guess I could afford something finer these days. How long would that last? I couldn’t pay the mortgage on my own. We’d have to sell and I’d be back to watching every penny I spent, living on spaghetti hoops and worrying about my bills. It was a depressing thought and I said as much to Hayley.

“You can’t take any of that into consideration when deciding whether to take him back or not.”

“I know.”

“You’d survive, you’d get by. You have to choose whether to stay with him or not based on how you feel, not the practical stuff like the finances.”

She was right, but it all seemed too much to think about. Cheating aside, I’d been happy before. Giving up Ross wouldn’t be easy. Nor would losing our home. None of it was easy and I couldn’t seem to think about it properly; my brain wouldn’t function. So I just kept getting through the days by concentrating on anything but my marriage.

On Friday evening Shane came round with Andrew, a pizza and a handful of DVDs. Somehow, I’d made it through a week without Ross, and although I desperately missed him in some ways, in others it was nice to not have him around. No dirty socks on the floor. No PlayStation games. No hurt every time I looked at him.

He called me Friday night and I finally answered after a little urging from Shane. Ross asked when I might like to see him; when could he come back? He said something about ‘working it out and talking it through’. I told him not yet and hung up, then stared at the phone for a while, feeling guilty for being so abrupt. I shook my head to clear those thoughts; he was the one who should be feeling guilty.

“You know, he’s been a good husband up until now. You could consider working this out,” Andrew said. Shane nodded encouragingly.

I told them about the socks and Playstation games.

“Andrew leaves coffee stains all over the worktop,” Shane told me.

“And Shane is obsessed with Annie, always giving her treats, even though I tell him she’ll get fat.”

“Your point is?” I asked them.

“That no one is perfect,” Shane pointed out the obvious. “You didn’t care about the dirty socks before. The bottom line is … can you ever forgive him?”

“I don’t know!” I wailed, getting up. “Now let’s change the subject and drink more wine.”

I saw him roll his eyes at Andrew as I left the room but decided to let it drop. He was trying to help, after all. And maybe he had a point. Maybe.

Chapter Seven

Saturday came along with the wedding I’d been dreading all week. I managed to hold it together and pretend I was my usual happy self without asking the bride if she knew there was a large chance he’d end up letting her down. That one day she might find herself totally lost, wondering how things could change so drastically from this day to that.

Sunday, I drove to Milton Keynes to visit my sister Sadie. On the way there, I contemplated seeing white dresses and gimmicky cakes, flowers and hired suits every weekend, and wasn’t sure I could do it. But I didn’t know what else I’d do, if not that. Somewhere around a mile from my sister’s, I told myself to stop worrying about it, at least for the time being.

Of all my siblings, I was really only close to Sadie. The others were a lot younger than me, and still in their teens. Whenever I visited either of my parents, my siblings only made a brief appearance, and if I was lucky, they might even look away from their phones or tablets long enough to grunt me a greeting.

Sadie was a primary school teacher who lived in a pristine apartment with never a speck of dust or item out of place, not far from our family home. I’d been so keen to move away from Milton Keynes when I was young, and I loved living in Bath, but this time going home felt kind of comforting. There was nothing here to remind me of Ross. I was a long way from that hotel and a long way from my problems.

“Hi!” Sadie called as I got out of the car outside her house. She smiled then frowned. “Where’s Ross?”

“I don’t know, actually,” I told her, giving her a hug.

“Oh dear. I better put the kettle on.”

A lot of analysis and a fair amount of tears and chocolate hobnobs later, Sadie made me lunch then told me what she thought.

“Look, I know Mum’s not exactly an ideal person to mention when we’re discussing wedded bliss, or whatever, but do you ever think if she’d stayed and fought for her marriage, she might not have been divorced so many times?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Just something to think about. You might be able to work through this and save your marriage.”

“I guess.”

“On the other hand, I hate Ross for doing this to you.”

We moaned about him for a while, but then I changed the subject, keen to talk about something else. I left about 2pm and it was on the drive home that I felt empty, lost and lonely. Is this what weekends would be like? Attending weddings as a bitter, cynical photographer, and then visiting friends and relatives who’d bitch about Ross with me before I returned home to an empty house?

I spent the journey thinking up things I’d say to him if I were to contemplate getting back together. I’d put the idea out of my mind all week but now I was starting to wonder if I could do it. If I could take him back and trust him again.

When I got in, I called him. He seemed surprised but pleased to hear from me and we chatted for a while about how our weeks had gone.

“Can I see you tonight?” he asked after a while. He sounded nervous.

“I don’t know…”

“Why don’t I come round with Aiden? We can just hang out, the three of us, as friends?”

“I guess so.” It would certainly be easier if Aiden was there, and we could try and at least act normal without debating what’d gone on and what might happen next.

And so on Sunday at six, the doorbell rang and there, acting like a formal guest outside his own home, was Ross and just behind him was Aiden, smiling awkwardly. I knew he’d be feeling weird about this but I was glad he’d tagged along. Ross gave me a quick hug and went into the kitchen with a bag of Chinese food. Aiden gave me a hug too and whispered in my ear:

“How you doing? I told him he’s an arse, you know.”

“Thanks Aiden.”

He smelled nice. As he pulled away from the hug, our eyes locked and suddenly I thought: why hadn’t I gone with Aiden, instead of Ross? He wasn’t as lazy or selfish enough to ever cheat on a woman. We looked at each other for a moment and something sparked in my chest. Then, as if he’d heard the flame ignite, he looked alarmed and walked away quickly.

What was wrong with me? Was I really that much of a mess that I was now getting a crush on my brother-in-law? I sighed and went through to the dining room, where Ross was getting out plates and glasses. We sat and tucked into the food and drank the wine. Aiden and I did most of the talking, mostly him asking me about my week, about seeing my sister, and so on. It felt staged and strange and I kept wishing Ross wasn’t there so we could just talk normally and I could tell him how I really felt about my week. Aiden had always been a friend to me, but somehow Ross’ actions had now put a divider up between us.

“I’ve had a manic week,” Ross butted in while I was talking about Sadie.

“Oh yeah?” I asked, sipping some wine. I hadn’t eaten much and was on my third glass. It was quickly going to my head and somehow, Aiden was looking more and more attractive compared to his cheating, lying bastard of a brother.

Ross started talking about work and I listened while nibbling on a pancake roll. Now that I thought about it, I remembered that Aiden had hinted he liked me when we first met, at their parent’s house the first Christmas I’d spent with them. Ross had a headache on Christmas Eve, and went to bed early. Aiden and I sat up late talking and he’d said something like;

“Ross is a lucky guy. If I’d met you first…”

Or something like that. And we had a moment. We nearly kissed. Or had I imagined it? I’d only been seeing Ross a few months and I felt guilty about it the next morning. But I didn’t see Aiden again for a long time, and by then Ross and I were more serious and, well, I hadn’t given it another thought. Until now.

I looked at Aiden as Ross continued to bore us about his job. I couldn’t help but notice how cute he was, now I looked properly. He glanced at me then back at Ross. Then he glanced at me again. Was I staring? I went back to looking at Ross but I couldn’t resist.

I imagined kissing Aiden and my heart fluttered. Was it just the wine or did everything suddenly make sense?

All too soon, they were saying good night. I was quite happy to see Ross go but would’ve liked to chat with Aiden alone some more.

Monday morning, I left the house wondering what on Earth my hormones were doing. I had to concentrate on Ross and what we were going to do, not get a silly crush on his brother. But he was so kind and sweet and cute, my heart whispered to me. Stupid heart.

I was walking down to my office, ready to airbrush the bride and her maids if necessary, when I saw Aiden crossing the street nearby. How had I managed to go years without seeing him as more than a brother-in-law and now I had that nervous excited feeling shooting through my chest?

“Hey,” I said as breezily as I could manage.

“Everything okay?” he said, falling into step beside me.

“Yeah, not bad. Thanks for coming last night. I know it must have been awkward for you.”

“No worries. You headed to work?”

Had he always been this gorgeous?

“Yes. You?”

“Just walking down to the post office.”

Why hadn’t I noticed how green his eyes were before? I always thought they were brown but, when you really looked closely, they were definitely hazel. Much more interesting and beautiful than Ross’ boring brown ones.

When I thought about it, Aiden and I had more in common too. We both liked to get out walking, for example, and he was quite keen on art and photography, like me. Just think how much more interesting dinner conversations would be if I were married to Aiden, instead of Ross … No, I must stop this.

“Listen, while we’re alone…”

“Yes?” I said, fluttering my eyelashes a little and then telling myself to get a grip on this before I embarrassed myself.

“I just wanted to say that Ross is an idiot, Jenny. I really had a go at him. I can’t believe he’d do this to you and I’m very sorry.”

I swallowed hard and blinked back a few tears.

“Thank you Aiden. I appreciate it.”

“If you were mine, I’d treat you so much better.”

What? Did that mean he wanted me? This was all too much. Way too much, too soon. I felt a little dizzy.

“I know. You’re a decent guy, Aiden,” I managed to utter. He looked at me for longer than necessary and I didn’t know what to do. Maybe I was imagining this chemistry between us.

And he was way too decent a guy to steal his brother’s wife, anyway.

But, what if I were his brother’s ex-wife?

We’d reached the post office and Aiden stopped before he went in.

“What’re you doing at lunch time?”

I mean, if we were divorced … well, I was fair game then, surely?