The Marriage Mender (6 page)

‘OK. Sorted,’ said Josh, before going up to his room.

‘Thanks,’ I said to Chris. I went to give him a hug.

He pulled away sharply.

‘What?’ I asked.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s just I can smell her. I can actually smell her on you.’

She got to the point where she just said ‘like’ about everything, as if her entire life was played out on Facebook. So if she saw a pair of shoes she wanted in a shop, she’d say ‘like’ and she’d even do a little thumbs-up in the air.

And half the time at home she didn’t talk to me, she’d only communicate through Facebook. So if I said something funny, she wouldn’t laugh, she’d share it on Facebook with an LOL next to it. Even if I was sitting bloody next to her on the sofa.

Once, when we were supposed to be going out for a meal, she was late because she couldn’t decide what to wear. She’d shared photos of three outfits on Facebook and was waiting for her ‘friends’ to decide. By the time they’d decided I’d ordered myself a takeaway instead. When she asked why I hadn’t ordered her one, I told her that I didn’t know what her friends on Facebook would think she should have. She nodded, like that was a fair point, and went back on to her laptop.

Josh bounded downstairs and into the kitchen. He was still in his dressing gown but had the customary cables leading to his ears. Sometimes, I was sure he actually slept with them in. It made me think that one day, in an evolutionary move, babies would actually be born with earphones, ready to be plugged into any device.

‘Morning, all,’ he said as he sat down at the table and started buttering a piece of toast.

I raised my eyebrows at Chris before we both bid him a good morning.

‘What you listening to?’ asked Chris.

‘The Velvet Underground,’ said Josh.

‘I didn’t know you had any of their stuff on your iPod.’

‘I didn’t. Mum got it for me.’

The word ‘Mum’ hung heavily in the air. It wasn’t the
first time he’d used it in the past two weeks, but it still had the ability to throw us. Chris particularly.

‘I could have downloaded it for you,’ Chris said.

‘No, it’s some rare session they did. She got it through someone she knows in the industry.’

Chris said nothing. I poured him another cup of tea.

‘It must be good to have two mums,’ piped up Matilda. ‘It means you get more stuff.’

Josh glanced at me before taking another mouthful of toast.

‘When is she going to come here?’ asked Matilda.

‘Like I said, love. It’s still early days.’

‘Oh, is it because you don’t like her?’

‘No, love. Not at all.’

‘So doesn’t Daddy like her?’ Matilda looked up at Chris as she said it.

Josh looked at him too.

‘It’s not that I don’t like her.’

‘Do you love her, then? You must have loved her when she was Josh’s mummy that lived here.’

Nobody said anything.

Josh stood up, walked over and put the radio on. Sometimes he was very much older than his sixteen years.

* * *

We met Debbie and Sophie at the end of the lane. Or rather, Matilda charged into them, and she and Sophie ran off in front, doing their scrunchy leaf stomp along the verge.

‘How’s things?’ asked Debbie. Her nose was already red and her hands were thrust deep into her pockets against the cold.

‘Oh, much the same,’ I said. ‘Still treading on eggshells around the breakfast table.’

‘Did Josh see her again at the weekend?’

‘Yeah, seems to be a regular Saturday afternoon fixture.’

‘And how does Chris feel about that?’

‘I think the thing that’s really getting to him is how happy Josh is. Not that he was miserable before, or anything, but he’s buzzing with it all. It’s like he’s got a new girlfriend or something. Except it’s not a girlfriend, it’s his mum.’

‘And what about you?’ asked Debbie.

‘What about me?’

‘Well, it can’t be easy. To all intents and purposes you’ve been Josh’s mother for the past nine years.’

‘Yeah, but she’s not like a mother to him. She’s more like a really cool older sister. I think that’s how Josh sees her, anyway.’

‘So basically she gets to do all the fun things with him and you get to wash his socks and cook him tea.’

‘Yeah, something like that,’ I said.

‘See. I told you to get shot of her.’

‘She’s Josh’s mother, Deb. It’s his choice. It’s not up to me.’

‘And Chris agrees with that, does he?’

‘Chris is doing his best. It’s difficult for him.’

‘Why did she leave in the first place?’

‘I don’t know. Chris has never gone into it. And I don’t think now is a good time to ask.’

‘It’s the perfect time to ask. She’s back on the scene, and it’s only fair that you know what you’re dealing with.’

I shrugged.

She was right, of course. I just didn’t want to admit it. Not even to myself.

* * *

The first thing which struck me about Catherine and Nathan wasn’t how beautiful they were (although they were undoubtedly beautiful) but what a very impressive front they were putting on. Usually, by the time people get to see me, they have given up pretending that everything is OK or, if they haven’t, the facade cracks within a few seconds of entering my room.

Nathan strolled in, shook me firmly by the hand and said it was good to meet me, as if I were a business associate. Catherine stretched out a long and elegant hand to shake mine. She smiled at me, a genuine smile which exuded warmth. They sat down. Both of them were dressed immaculately, he in a well-cut suit and she in a long-sleeved purple shift dress with a silk scarf and tall grey boots.

Nathan poured two glasses of water and handed one to Catherine. They both looked at me, bright and attentive, as if they had wandered in here by accident, thinking I was the small business adviser next door.

‘Thank you both for coming,’ I said. ‘I do understand what a difficult process this can be. If you need to take a break at any time, just ask.’

They both nodded. Nathan crossed his legs. Catherine took a sip of water. I noticed her hand was shaking. Our eyes met for a second and she put the glass back down.

‘Right, well, at the first session I usually go through the notes from your initial assessment. If there’s anything which you feel isn’t accurate, or there’s anything missing which you believe is important, please let me know.’

They nodded again. Nathan glanced at his watch.

‘So you’ve been together twelve years, since meeting at university in Manchester. You’ve no children and you both work full-time. Nathan, it says you run your own web design company.’

‘That’s right, if you ever need a website setting up pronto –’ He took a business card from his pocket and put it on the table.

I thought I saw Catherine cringe, but I couldn’t be sure.

‘And Catherine, you co-own an art gallery in Hebden Bridge and work as a part-time arts promotions officer.’

‘Yes,’ she said, before looking down at her hands.

I noticed for the first time that the nail varnish was chipped.

‘And as far as the problems you’ve been experiencing go, you both say there are issues regarding whether to start a family or not, which have led to lots of arguments.’ I looked up.

Catherine was still staring at her hands. The smile had disappeared from her face. Nathan, however, remained decidedly upbeat.

‘That about sums it up,’ he said.

I looked at Catherine. ‘So how do you feel about starting a family?’

She looked down as she spoke. ‘I don’t want children, but I don’t want that to be an issue between us. I don’t see why it needs to be.’

‘The thing is,’ said Nathan, ‘people don’t always know what they want, do they? Until it’s too late, that is. And I don’t want Catherine to regret this in later life. I think she’d make a great mum. I thought coming here and talking about it might make her see that.’

I scribbled some notes.

When I glanced up, Catherine was gazing out of the window behind me, her eyes moist with tears.

* * *

I don’t think Josh meant me to see him. True, he didn’t usually leave his bedroom door open. But Matilda had gone to bed, so the main reason to shut it had disappeared.

I’d only nipped upstairs to get a cardigan. For some reason I happened to glance in as I walked past his doorway. Josh was sitting on the end of his bed, his cheeks wet with tears, gazing down at what appeared to be a shoebox on his lap.

‘Hey,’ I said, stepping inside the room, ‘what’s the matter?’

‘It’s OK,’ he said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand and managing a watery smile. ‘Nothing’s happened, I just got out the box and I think it all kind of caught up with me.’

I sat down on the bed next to him and put my arm around his shoulders. The box on his lap was open. On the
top of a small pile of things inside was a black and white photograph of a young, dark-haired woman clutching a newborn baby to her chest. Her eyeliner was smudged, her hair lank with sweat, but the look on her face was one of immense pride.

‘She seems so happy,’ said Josh.

‘I know,’ I said. ‘I’m sure she was.’

‘There are others,’ he went on. ‘Quite a few of them.’

He flicked through the wallet of photos underneath. Pictures of him and Lydia snuggled together on a rug on the floor, wrapped up together in a bath towel, both sporting Santa hats on what would have been his first Christmas. Lydia’s expression was one of unwavering devotion. She smiled less as Josh got older, though. In the ones where he was sitting up, she was hardly smiling at all.

‘I’ve never seen these before,’ I said.

‘Dad gave me the box when I was a kid, a year or so after I started school, I think. We were doing something on families and they asked us to bring in photos of us as babies. I remember Dad saying he wanted me to know what my mum looked like and that she’d really loved me but she’d had to go away.’

I nodded and squeezed his shoulder.

‘When I got a bit older, and started to get angry about it all, I put the box away inside another one in the back of the wardrobe. I guess that’s why you’ve never seen it. I only just remembered it and got it out. I can’t believe how similar she looks. She’s hardly changed at all, has she?’

I shook my head.

He opened another wallet underneath. There was a photo of baby Josh sitting on Barbara’s knee with Lydia sitting next to them. Barbara was beaming down at him. Lydia holding one outstretched hand.

‘It’s weird, isn’t it?’ said Josh. ‘I hadn’t even thought about her knowing Grandma. Stupid, really, cos the only people she didn’t know are you and Tilda. And look, this one was taken in the garden, see how small the apple tree is.’

I nodded and swallowed hard. Lydia in our house, in our garden, with our family. Long before I knew any of them. Her imprint was here. I had always felt it but had tried so hard to ignore it. She had cast a shadow over this house when she’d left. But for Josh, at least, her reappearance had been like someone throwing open the shutters to let the light in.

I squeezed his shoulder again. ‘It means a lot to you, doesn’t it? To have her back, I mean.’

Josh nodded. ‘It was like, for years, I hated her but I realise now I didn’t really hate her, I just hated that she wasn’t around. Hated that I didn’t have a mum when other kids did.’ He looked up sharply. ‘Sorry,’ he said.

‘No. I understand. I’m not your mum. I’ve never pretended to be. I just love you like a son, that’s all.’

He smiled across at me. ‘Some kids at school think you are my mum,’ he said. ‘The kids who I only met at high school, who didn’t know me before you were around. I’ve never bothered to tell them.’

‘You don’t mind them thinking your mum is some uncool woman with a nice line in cardigans and Ugg boots, then?’

Josh dug me in the ribs with his elbow. ‘You’re not that bad.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

‘It’s weird, really. I mean, she’s my mum and yet she doesn’t know me at all, not really, not all the little things about me. And you’re not my mum but you know me miles better than her. I couldn’t talk to her like I can to you.’

‘No, but you can talk to her about other things – music, and stuff I know nothing about.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.’

A floorboard creaked on the landing.

I looked up to see Chris standing there. He looked at me, at Josh and at the box.

Then he turned and walked away without saying anything.

I took her to see
Fatal Attraction
and she leant over in the cinema, put her hand on my crotch and whispered into my ear, ‘I boil bunnies, you know.’

End of.

‘But why can’t we all go together?’ asked Matilda at breakfast.

I opened my mouth to say something but Chris shook his head slightly at me, indicating that he was going to take the question.

‘We didn’t all go together last year, or the year before that. Josh went with Tom, if you remember.’

‘Yes, but that’s different,’ said Matilda. ‘That was because you said he was old enough to go with his friends. He isn’t going with his friends this time, he’s going with his mum, and that’s family so we should all go together.’

I had to admit that for an eight-year-old, her logic was pretty impressive. Unfortunately, on this particular point, it was not appreciated. Josh came into the kitchen before either of us had had a chance to formulate an answer.

He looked at Matilda’s expectant face and both of us. ‘What’s up?’ he asked.

‘Nothing,’ Chris said.

‘Yes, it is,’ said Matilda. ‘I want to know why we can’t all go to the fireworks as a family. I don’t see why you have to go with your mum and me with my mum and we can’t all go together like we should.’

Matilda’s evident fury took me back a little. I could tell Chris was trying very hard not to react.

Josh looked down at the floor. ‘Sorry,’ he said.

‘Don’t be silly,’ I said. ‘It’s not a problem.’

‘Well, it obviously is for her,’ he replied, gesturing towards Matilda.

‘It’s just going to take time to adjust,’ I said. ‘For all of us.’

Josh hesitated. ‘Look, I’ll go with you guys if it makes things easier. I’ll text Mum and let her know.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘You don’t have to do that.’

Chris looked up at me sharply.

‘He’s made arrangements,’ I said. ‘It’s not fair to mess people around at such short notice.’

I could see Chris itching to reply, could hear the words formulating in his head, fighting to escape through his mouth. He took a swig of tea, maybe to stop them, before turning to Matilda.

‘Tilda, you heard what your mum said. It’s too late to change things this year. But how about I let you have an extra turn on the hook-a-duck at the fair? How does that sound?’

Matilda considered the offer. For a moment I wondered if she was going to try to negotiate two extra turns, but I think even she sensed that Chris was not in the mood.

‘OK,’ she said. ‘As long as you don’t complain if I pick two big fluffy things.’

‘Deal,’ said Chris, managing a smile as she high-fived him before skipping upstairs.

‘Take it out of my pocket money,’ said Josh.

‘What?’ asked Chris.

‘The money for her extra turn.’

‘Don’t be a daft bugger,’ said Chris. ‘It was my decision to offer her that.’

‘You mean bribe her?’smiled Josh.

‘Yeah, well, whatever. It’s not your fault, OK? None of this is your fault.’

Josh nodded and went to pour himself some cereal.

‘Thanks,’ I whispered, stroking Chris’s arm.

He shrugged and squeezed my hand. It was a long time before he let go.

* * *

Kelly didn’t look old enough to be married, let alone be on the verge of a divorce. She was what Barbara would have called ‘a slip of a girl’, fair hair scraped off her face and tied back with a scrunchie, dimples when she smiled. Only a fleeting smile, mind. Though that was understandable under the circumstances.

Luke’s frame was massive next to hers. Broad shoulders and tall with it, his fair hair cropped short around his freckled face. His jaw set firm. He had the expression of
someone who has been told they have to choose between cutting off their right leg or their left. Things were clearly not good.

I introduced myself and sat them down, told them how the sessions worked, asked if they had any questions before we began.

‘Do you mind if I keep my mobile on?’ asked Kelly. ‘Only Luke’s mam’s got the kids, and they are a bit of a handful. And in case there’s an emergency or whatever.’

‘That’s fine. I understand,’ I said.

‘Thanks,’ said Kelly.

She shuffled uncomfortably. She looked like someone about to sit a GCSE maths exam.

‘Just remember, there are no right or wrong answers,’ I said. ‘We’re here to talk about how you’re both feeling, why you’re feeling that way and how we can work together to make things better.’

Luke stared resolutely out of the window behind me.

‘OK, so perhaps we can start by talking about how you got together? Because I gather from my colleague’s notes that there are a few issues which have stemmed from that.’

Kelly looked at Luke. He said nothing.

She fiddled with a strand of loose hair before starting to talk. ‘Well, I were only, like, thirteen when we started seeing each other. He were in year eleven at school and I were in year nine. We didn’t tell anyone until the summer when Luke left school and started working on the building site. And then me mam flipped her lid.’

‘She didn’t approve?’

‘No. Cos of age difference, which were daft because her and me dad have got a bigger age difference than us. But she reckoned that were different cos she’d been seventeen when they’d started going out.’

‘And what about your family, Luke?’ I asked. ‘What was their reaction?’

‘It’s only me mam, like, because me dad buggered off when I were a kid. But she didn’t have a problem with it. She thought it would be good for me to settle down young. And she liked Kelly, she still does.’

‘And you got married when you were eighteen, Kelly.’

‘Yeah, day of my eighteenth birthday. We would have done it earlier, but me mam and dad wouldn’t give permission.’

‘And why did you want to get married rather than just live together?’

Kelly glanced at Luke before answering. ‘He’d been ribbed by the lads at work saying he were a paedo and that. And I’d had two years of people saying it were only a schoolgirl crush. We wanted to show people that it were, like, for ever.’

Her voice caught as she said it. She looked down and started fiddling with her wedding ring. Luke shifted in his seat. I gave them both a moment.

‘And so I take it you got no support from your family after you were married, Kelly?’

She shook her head. ‘No, they practically disowned me. Which is daft, innit? I mean, I weren’t taking drugs and I
weren’t up the duff or nothing. They disowned me for getting married.
Duh
.’

She pulled a face as she said it. I was reminded again of how young she still was.

‘But you were happy?’

‘Yeah. We were dead happy,’ said Kelly. ‘And when I found out I were pregnant, we were chuffed about it.’

‘And then you had the baby and wondered what the hell had hit you,’ I said.

Kelly and Luke both stared at me as if I must have had some inside information.

‘It happens to everyone,’ I said. ‘I was thirty-two when I had my daughter, and I already had a stepson, but I found it incredibly tough.’

‘Really,’ said Kelly. ‘You’re not just saying that?’

‘No. I had no idea what I was doing, I worried all the time that I was doing the wrong thing. It changes your relationship with your partner too, doesn’t it?’ I looked at Luke as I said this.

‘To be honest,’ he said, ‘it were like someone had kidnapped Kelly and put someone else back in her place. She were always so bright and sparky before, always having a laugh. She never used to moan about owt.’

‘I get right arsey when I haven’t had any sleep,’ Kelly said.

‘I weren’t getting at you,’ said Luke. ‘It were just hard, that’s all. Not like we thought it would be.’

‘And Callum were a right whingey baby,’ added Kelly. ‘So being the eejits we are, we thought we’d have another one, just to see if it were any better.’

She laughed as she said it, but I could tell she was trying to put on a brave face.

‘Only “it” was twins,’ I said.

‘Yeah, we weren’t expecting that,’ said Luke. ‘Me mam were made up at the time but she’s said to me since that it were probably worst thing that could have happened to us, like.’

‘Did she?’ asked Kelly. ‘You never said.’

‘She didn’t mean it in a bad way,’ said Luke. ‘She loves Liam and Ava to bits. She just meant that it were too much to cope with. It was her that suggested coming here,’ he said, turning to me. ‘Said she’d pay for it, like.’

‘We do have the discretion to reduce fees to suit ability to pay. Has that all been explained to you?’

‘Oh yeah, but we ain’t accepting charity, like,’ said Luke. ‘We’ve always paid our way.’

I nodded. I’d had people earning twice as much ask if they could pay less. Although the difference was that they didn’t appear to love each other half as much as Kelly and Luke did.

* * *

To the untrained eye, Matilda might have appeared to be fizzing like a firework herself at the prospect of the Bonfire Night out. But I was well aware that she had reached nothing like her usual excitement level. I glanced at Chris. He was obviously aware of it too.

‘Why can’t Josh come with us for the children’s fireworks and then go with his mum for the grown-up ones?’ asked Matilda.

I looked at Chris. It was a good compromise and no doubt he, like me, was wishing one of us had come up with it earlier. It was too late now, though. We were due to leave in ten minutes. I was also aware that it would feel a little like those arrangements children of divorced parents have on Christmas Day. And having hated it myself as a teenager, I didn’t want to put Josh through the same thing.

‘Good idea, love. Maybe next year we can do that, eh?’

Matilda sighed.

I was praying she wouldn’t take the protest any further; I suspected from the look on his face that Chris was approaching breaking point.

‘We might see them while we’re there,’ she said, her face brightening for a second. ‘We’ll probably be standing right near them.’

‘I doubt it, love,’ I said, stroking her hair. ‘Remember how busy it is? There are thousands of people there. We probably won’t see them.’

‘We will if I ask Josh to wear something bright. I could lend him my flashing Santa hat, then we could easily spot him.’

I smiled at her, though the thought of Chris having to make small talk to Lydia in front of Matilda and Josh was actually making me feel rather queasy inside. ‘Look, I’m afraid it’s just not going to happen, love. Now, let’s get our coats on and wrap up warm, it’s nearly time to go.’

‘She’s spoiling it,’ said Matilda, her voice an octave higher and considerably louder than previously. ‘I don’t
want Josh to have another mum. I want it to be like it was before. I want her to go away again.’

I could see the whites of Chris’s knuckles. Hear him choking back the words which were, no doubt, fighting to come out. I hurried Matilda into the hallway, desperate to get her out of the house as quickly as possible. It was only then I saw Josh on the landing.

‘It’s OK,’ he said, ‘I’m coming with you.’

‘No, love,’ I said, ‘you don’t have to do that. We can handle it.’

‘No, Mum texted. She can’t make it.’

It was as if the light from Josh’s face had somehow been drained and fed directly into Matilda’s.

‘Yay! Josh is coming with us,’ she said. ‘We’re all going to the fireworks together.’

‘Did she say why?’ I asked Josh.

‘Something about a guy she’d met at the Trades Club last night.’

I caught Chris’s eye. He appeared to be torn between being mad at Lydia and relieved that Josh was coming with us.

He pulled on his jacket. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Last one down the hill is the boring Catherine wheel of the firework box.’

‘I like Catherine wheels,’ said Matilda.

‘Then the last one can be a Roman candle.’

‘I like them too.’

‘Well,’ said Chris, giving her a squeeze, ‘it doesn’t matter if you’re last, then, does it?’

They went out of the door, laughing and poking each
other. I put my scarf on and pulled my hat down over my ears.

‘I’m sorry, love,’ I said to Josh. ‘I know you were looking forward to seeing her.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said as he took his coat from the peg.

It did, though. It clearly mattered very much.