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Authors: Barbara Copperthwaite

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BOOK: Invisible
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When he gets in a bad mood
his face reminds me of one of those speeded up film sequences where the clear
sky is suddenly blotted out by clouds racing across and turning blacker. His
face changes that quickly. There’s that saying isn’t there, ‘a face like
thunder’. That’s literally what he has.

I sat on the edge of the bed,
telling him everything and watching him carefully, keyed up and waiting for
that time lapse camera moment, for his expression to change from worried to
angry…but it never came.

After I’d tearfully
confessed all, my poor, bemused husband was so fantastic. He didn’t say a word,
just sat up and gently pulled me against him, letting me cry against his chest.
I could barely look at him, so he held me close and kissed the top of my head,
breathing into my hair in that funny way of his until it was all hot.

‘It’s okay, it’s all okay, hush,’
he soothed again and again.

How can I doubt someone so
understanding; because I’d go nuts if he did the same to me, accusing me of
things, of secrets and
lies.
But that’s decided me
once and for all. I am fighting for this marriage. We’ve been great before, and
we’ll be great again. I will not give up on us just because I feel a bit bored
and not quite right about things.

 

Sunday 16

Argh!
Remembered
today that I have completely missed Sarah’s birthday.
So I rushed out
and bought her a jumper from the supermarket in the end. Well, supermarket
stuff is great these days so I’m sure she’ll like it. But wrapping has never
exactly been my strong point…

‘I’ve got to send Sarah’s
present to her, but I’m worried the package will fall apart,’ I moaned to Daryl,
showing him the flimsy parcel I’d created. It looked like a three-year-old had
wrapped it.

‘I’ve got some duct tape you
can use, that will hold most things in place.’ He smirked, as though at some
private joke. Yes, well, the parcel did look pretty funny; I had made a poor
job of it. Ha bloody ha.

He went out to his truck and
came back seconds later brandishing the tough silver tape, still sniggering
away to
himself
. He quickly unfurled it, covering
almost the whole package with it. Daryl’s strong fingers worked rapidly,
tearing the tape with a strength and well-practiced technique that surprised me,
until only the tiniest amount of brown paper peeked out here and there.

‘Job done,’ he said, patting
it, satisfied.

‘My hero,’ I grinned. And I
meant it.

 
APRIL

Thursday 3

If only everyone could be as
happy as me right now. Sounds pretty smug, doesn’t it, but I don’t care.
Everything is so great between Daryl and me. Why? Because not only is he still
making an effort despite me acting so badly, but also I have finally learned
the secret of happiness too. I simply let things go.

I’m so much more relaxed,
and am not letting myself get annoyed by stuff, or dwell on questioning things;
I’m just going with the flow. And when Daryl does bug me, I just take a deep
breath and count to ten and tell myself it doesn’t matter. I’m thinking big
picture now, i.e. saving my marriage, not sweating the details by getting
annoyed when he doesn’t always do exactly what I want.

I am using my new-found
happiness to try to encourage Kim to split from Psycho Sam. ‘There is a
wonderful man somewhere out there, just waiting to make you happy. But until
you split from Sam you will never meet them, because you’re not ready. Break
free from his control, take control of your life again, and things will change
for the better,’ I coach. She actually seems to be listening.

Amy has really apologised as
well for what she said about Daryl. She still insists they were scared but
admits there was no actual reason for it at all and they over-reacted, and the
more they talked about it together the more they cranked it up to be something
bigger in their imaginations than it actually was.

I haven’t heard from Hannah
though…

 

Saturday 12

‘How is Saggy Tits? Not seen
her around lately,’ Daryl asked suddenly over breakfast this morning.

So he’s noticed Amy and I
have had a bit of a falling out. Instead of letting him wind me up though, I
just told him that wasn’t a nice way to speak about my friends, said it in a
very neutral way – lightly, even, so he had nothing to trigger off and we wouldn’t
row. Since I’ve determined to be more of a grown up and stop reacting to him,
things have been much better between us.

He wouldn’t let it go
though.

‘She’s a bit of a whore
though, isn’t she,’ he said, mimicking my matter-of-fact tone.

‘Daryl!’ Okay, I bit, but he
was definitely asking for it.

‘What?’ he
grinned.
‘She is. She puts it about a bit.
A right cunt.’

I screwed my eyes closed and
shook my head. I hate that word! And he knows it, was just using it for a
reaction. So instead I just forced my eyes open and smiled. ‘Well she’s a big
girl, and not hurting anyone else, so who cares how many people she does or
doesn’t sleep with. You don’t have to worry about her sex life, just mine.’

Keen to get him off the
subject of Amy, because then I might have to explain what we’d fallen out over,
and emboldened by the success of my ‘go with the flow’ plan, I stepped towards
him and gave him what my dear departed gran would have described as a ‘come
hither’ look.

‘She can never have what
I’ve got, no matter how many people she sleeps with,’ I said as huskily as I
could muster. ‘She can never have you. Why don’t you show me what she’s
missing?’

Well, my lust-fuelled idea
worked in one respect. It took Daryl’s mind off Amy. Sadly it didn’t get his
mind on to me though. He gulped down his coffee and set his mug down, suddenly
full of purpose.

‘Right, I need to clear the
cab of my lorry out,’ he said. And instead of coming hither, he went outside.

 

Monday 14

Kim has dumped Psycho Sam!!!!
And this time she actually seems to mean it!

She came into work today
smiling but nervous, and I knew immediately something had happened. I went into
the kitchen to make a cuppa, and put two mugs out, knowing she’d join me any moment.
 

‘I’ve done it,’ she whispered
the second she appeared, eyes all bright and sparkly like they haven’t been in
months and months (unless you count times where they’ve twinkled with tears).

‘You’ve…?’ I said, letting
the sentence hang there, not daring to finish it the way I suspected it would
end, just in case.

‘I’ve finished with Sam.’

‘Oh
my God!’
I shouted. We both ducked instinctively, grimaced
at how loud I’d been,
then
giggled. As we held onto
each other, unable to stop, I tried to mouth sorry, but it just made us laugh
even more. I think we were both hysterical with joy that Psycho Sam had been
given the elbow at long last.

Finally, I pulled myself
together with one last cheery sigh. ‘So what happened? What’s different this
time?’

She shrugged.
‘Nothing.
Despite our whole relationship being one big
drama, there was no huge, earth-shattering explosion of emotion. It was
everything, you know? The constant atmosphere, the walking on eggshells, the
rowing, and the person he was turning me into; I didn’t recognise myself any
more, was nothing like I’d been when we’d first met. Putting up with all kinds
of crap, having my self-esteem chipped away, getting into physical fights. He’d
even started complaining about the way I dressed – and I was listening and
changing.

‘I told myself they were
little things, and that the problem was with me, but that wasn’t true…and it
all piled up until I couldn’t take it
any more
. And
instead of getting angry and shouting, I was just very calm and told him I
couldn’t do this, it wasn’t what I wanted or needed. That I was happy for him
to stay with me for a month, to sort out a place to live, but that he would be
sleeping on the sofa until he left.’

‘Wow,’ I breathed. ‘And how
did he take it? Did he go mental?’ Beside me the kettle boiled, the button clicking
off as steam poured upwards, but I ignored it.

‘You know what? He seemed to
accept it.
Seemed defeated.
Mind you, he probably
thinks I’ll change my
mind, that
this is just like all
the other times we’ve split.’

‘But it isn’t?’

Reaching past me, she picked
up the kettle and poured water into the waiting mugs. ‘No chance. This time I
really mean it.’

And you know what? For some
reason, it does feel different this time; she does seem stronger, calmer, more
in control. Actually, she seems more like the Kim I met three years ago when I
started at the company.

Finally everything seems to
be coming together and everyone is getting a step closer to their happy
endings. I’ve just got to keep up my ‘stay calm, don’t argue, go with the flow’
mantra.

 

Wednesday 23

Poor Daryl sent me a text
message tonight saying how much he missed me. He sounded tired. Does that sound
funny? Yes, but he did. There was nothing in particular he said in it to hint
at that, but you just know someone inside out after so many years don’t you. I
know him so well I can even tell how he’s feeling just from a text message.

Still, he’ll be home this
weekend, and I can’t wait. We’ll spend a bit of quality time together, maybe go
for a meal or something or the cinema.

 
MAY

Saturday 9

Blimey, it’s been over a
fortnight since I’ve written my diary. I suppose that now things have settled
down between Daryl and me, there’s less need for it – it’s a great way of
pouring out my feelings and sorting through stuff, but I need to do that less
now. But today I have big news, because I’m going on holiday! Woo
hoo
!

Daryl has, by a small
miracle, managed to book the same time off as me. It’s normally a total
nightmare co-ordinating holidays, but this was stunningly simple. And so we’re
off on a last minute break. Hu-blinking-rah!

Aside from that, nothing
much has changed really. Kim is doing well after her split with Sam. He’s found
a place to move into, and leaves next week. He wants to stay in touch and Kim
is staying neutral about the idea at the moment because she doesn’t want him to
kick off, but actually she’s no intention of having anything to do with him
ever again.

What else? Hannah still
hasn’t been in touch and I’m sure as hell not contacting her. She needs to
apologise to me. And although on the surface Amy and I seem okay, I’m wary of
her, and she seems the same of me. I’ll never fully trust her again, I don’t
think, because she really hurt me, and for no reason at all.

 

Saturday 30

Wow. What a day. What a
glorious, fabulous day. Daryl and I are finally on our holidays!!

He arrived last night after
working all day, then driving over to me, arriving home at 10pm. As soon as I
opened the door he ran past me saying: ‘I’m
gonna
be
sick, I’m
gonna
be sick.’

Luckily he made it to the
loo. That’s the first time in all these years together that I’ve ever known him
vomit.

Anyway, I suggested he go to
bed for a couple of hours before we had to go to the airport. We had a lovely
chat in bed because he felt much better and he just stroked my hair and face
for ages as we talked. It was so relaxing, and finally we very gently made
love.

Think we’ve really turned a
corner because not only are we getting on well, but then something really
amazing happened.

We had to get up at midnight,
and I was rushing round double-checking that we’d packed our passports,
tickets, suntan lotion, insect repellent, enough undies to last us… Daryl was
sitting on the sofa watching me, head moving back and forth like he was
watching a tennis match because I was running backwards and forwards with
everything.

Suddenly his hand shot out
and grabbed me, stopping me in my tracks – with hands his size, he could stop a
juggernaut he’s so strong. I just looked at him, surprised, eyebrows up near my
hairline.

‘I think we should go for
it,’ he said, nodding in determination. He must have seen the confused look on
my face, because then he clarified. ‘I think we should try for a baby, start a
family.’

Yes! I felt like punching
the air, or running around with my top over my head like blokes do when they’ve
just scored a goal. Maybe throw in a somersault or two for good luck. Instead,
I just let myself be pulled onto his lap and gazed into those blue eyes of his,
as bright as icicles, and let my smile spread as the reality of what he’d said
sank in. Finally, I’m going to be a mum! Well, soon anyway, if things go well.

I can’t believe he finally
he wants us to go for it. The only problem is (and I do feel bad even thinking
about whinging when I’m so happy) I really would like Daryl to be at home more before
we have a child. He spends so many days away, and has to work such crazily long
hours because those gits who run the haulage business are making him break the
law all the time on his hours. How they manage to rig the taco is beyond me,
but Daryl works loads more hours than is legal.

We chatted about it while we
were at the airport, waiting to board our flight. Well, I nagged about it.

‘Maybe you should just
refuse,’ I said. ‘They can’t force you to break the law.’

He gave me a look that
showed how naive he thought I was being, but took my hand and twined his
fingers with mine. For the first time I noticed he’d got a nasty graze on his
knuckles and they looked swollen, but now wasn’t the time to ask how he’d
managed that, so instead I gently stroked the back of his hand with my free
hand.

‘I’m scared I’ll lose my
contract,’ he sighed. ‘They’ve not outright said that, of course, but it’s
definitely been hinted at. What choice have I got? I have to do what they say,
because if they get rid of me I don’t even get severance pay because I’m
freelance. There’s nothing to stop them turning round tomorrow and telling me
they don’t need me
any more
.’

I looked down at our hands,
which formed a cage the way our fingers were woven together. He’s a lot more
trapped than my digits, and it makes me so angry on his behalf. It’s not fair!

Anyway, I’m determined to
leave all that behind for a week. Who cares about work! We’re on holiday and
we’re trying for a baby. I don’t think I could get happier! Daryl seems really cheery
and content too, though I think it’s partly relief that he no longer needs to
dodge the ‘when are you going to make an appointment with a counsellor’
question any more, since clearly he no longer needs to see anyone to work
through his problems now he has got past his phobia of having a family.

So, we’re now in
Olu
Deniz
, Turkey. After a late
lunch we wandered down to the beach. This is our second trip here, and it felt
lovely to be back, like saying hello to an old friend – I was overjoyed when Daryl
said he’d managed to book our break here. We went to the left side of the beach
rather than the lagoon, as last time we were here we never really got round to
exploring that bit.

Exploring is too active a
word though. Actually I lay there looking at literally turquoise sea, pure
white surf crashing onto the pebbles; the sight and the sound was hypnotising.
Sunbathed, read, splashed around with Daryl, who couldn’t stop laughing.

BOOK: Invisible
3.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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