The Marriage Mender (7 page)

And then one day he hit Millie.

And all the times he’d hit me went flashing through my mind. Only instead of seeing me, I saw him hitting Millie, heard her screaming, saw her arms and her legs turn black and blue and saw his footprint on her belly, and I knew I couldn’t stay there a second longer.

I just scooped her up off the floor and walked out of the door.

‘Is it OK if I go out tonight, to a club?’

Josh’s voice was the brightest it had been for a week, which made it very difficult to say no. I glanced at Chris. He shrugged and nodded.

‘I guess so,’ I said. ‘But I thought you and Tom were watching a film at his place?’

‘I’m not going with Tom,’ Josh said.

I knew instantly what that meant. Chris must have too.

He snapped down the lid of his laptop. ‘So who are you going with?’he asked.

Josh looked down at his feet before answering. ‘With Mum. She’s got a spare ticket for some band she reckons are really good.’

‘And how does Tom feel about being blown out?’ asked Chris.

‘He’s cool about it. Really.’

I looked at Chris.

He sighed, aware he was cornered. ‘OK. But don’t make a habit of letting down your best mate.’

‘Thanks,’ said Josh. ‘I’ll let you know if the band are any good. Mum reckons you’d like them.’

My skin bristled. She still claimed to know him. To know him in the way that you only do if you live with someone, if you’re their soulmate. I imagined them lying together listening to music. Lying in what was now our bedroom. I wondered if she used to make him compilation tapes. Whether she’d done dance ones. And ones to have sex to.

Chris leant back in the chair and ran his fingers through his hair as Josh left the room and bounded back upstairs.

‘She doesn’t make it easy, does she?’ I said.

‘No. She never did.’

I stared out of the window, hating the way she was doing this. Leaving silent footprints all around us.

‘I tell you what,’ I said, leaning over and kissing him on his forehead. ‘We should go out tonight.’

‘Why?’

‘Because we never do.’

‘Fair point. I could ask Mum to babysit.’

‘You’re sure she won’t mind?’

‘What, spending a few hours of quality time with her only granddaughter?’

‘It might stop Matilda complaining about everyone else going out,’ I said. ‘And she’ll like having your mum all to herself.’

‘Good. That’s sorted.’

‘I’ll book a table, then,’ I said, smiling at him. I wasn’t going to let her do this. Let her memory come between us.

* * *

‘You off already?’ I asked Josh later. ‘I thought you might see Grandma before you go.’

‘Sorry, we’re going somewhere to eat first. Nelson’s, I think.’

‘Is she vegetarian?’

‘Yeah, didn’t you know?’

I shook my head, wondering what else I didn’t know about her. ‘Do you need some money, then?’

‘No, it’s OK, thanks, Mum’s paying.’

I’d heard him say the word enough times that I should have been used to it. I wasn’t, though.

‘Have you got your emergency money?’ I asked.

‘Yeah and the monkey chaff, Mrs Potato Head,’ said Josh, grinning.

I could still remember watching
Toy Story 2
with him when he was a kid. I think Chris had started calling me it first. But Josh was the one who’d carried it on every time I started listing items he may need.

‘Thank you for the cheek,’ I replied. ‘Home before midnight, please.’

‘Or I’ll turn into a pumpkin.’

‘How are you getting home? Has she got a car?’

‘No. She said she’d get me a cab.’

‘Well, have some more money, just in case,’ I said, reaching for my purse.

‘I’m fine,’ he replied. ‘Stop being such a mum.’

It must have shown on my face. Even though I tried hard to stop it.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean –’

‘No, it’s OK,’ I said. ‘It’s fine.’ I smiled at him. Put the ten-pound note back in my purse. ‘Have a good time, then,’ I said.

‘Thanks. And you.’

He closed the front door quietly behind him. I sat down for a second on the bottom of the stairs. Conscious that Lydia had once been a proper mum to him. In this very house. Had fed him, winded him, changed his nappy, things that I had never done. So I had no right, really. No right to feel the way I was feeling. She had been here first. I was the newcomer. I was the one who couldn’t complain that a mother had come to reclaim her child.

As long as that was all she was trying to reclaim.

I sighed and looked at the clock. Chris and Matilda wouldn’t be back from picking up Barbara for a good half an hour yet. I decided to go and have a bath.

* * *

I took a long while doing my make-up afterwards. It was like being a teenager again, having the luxury of taking your time to get ready for a night out.

I tried to remember the last time Chris and I had been out for a meal. It was probably my fortieth. Too long, really. Like dating someone every eight months, except sillier than that, because the person in question happened to be my husband. I, of all people, ought to have known not to
let that happen. But somehow it had. It was time to put a stop to it.

I took the lipliner and drew a careful outline before filling in with lipstick. It was my colour. Something called ‘damson rose’. It had taken me until I was forty to find it, but sometimes the important things in life did take time.

I caught sight of the photo on the dressing table. The black and white one of me cradling a newborn Matilda in my arms, my cheeks red and my eyes moist with tears. I hadn’t realised until that moment how similar it was to the one of Lydia with Josh which he’d shown me. It wasn’t surprising of course. The same photographer had taken it. The only difference was that mine hadn’t been put away in a box, out of sight and out of mind.

‘Well, you scrubbed up pretty well.’

I gave a start as I heard Chris’s voice behind me. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’ I smiled.

‘I only came in to change my shirt. I suppose you want me to make more of an effort now.’

‘Well, maybe just this once. It’s not often we get the chance, is it?’

‘Where are we going?’

‘Somewhere nice.’

‘It wouldn’t be first date territory, would it?’ he asked.

‘Might be,’ I said, trying to hide my disappointment that he’d guessed.

‘Decent shirt and trousers, then,’ he said. ‘But I draw the line at a tie.’ He squeezed past me to get to the wardrobe.
‘Wow, you smell good too.’ He stooped to kiss me on the neck.

And I was momentarily transported back to a time when this was happening for the first time. And I was breathing him in, unable to believe that someone like him was doing this with someone like me.

‘If I kiss you properly, I’m going to get lipstick all over me, aren’t I?’ asked Chris.

I nodded.

‘Oh well, I guess it’ll just have to wait for later.’

I heard voices downstairs through the open doorway. A male voice particularly. One which shouldn’t have been there.

‘That’s Josh,’ I said.

We both hurried downstairs. He was standing in the hall looking forlorn. Barbara was next to him, using her best soothing tones.

‘Hey, what’s happened?’ I asked.

‘Mum didn’t show,’ he said, his voice an uncertain mixture of anger and defensiveness.

‘Have you tried ringing her?’ I asked.

‘Yeah. Just goes to her voicemail. I’ve left a message and I’ve texted her but she hasn’t got back.’

‘That’s bang out of order,’ said Chris from behind me. ‘I’m not having her mess you around like this.’

I realised Matilda was standing in the doorway, and whispered to Barbara to take her back into the lounge and put a DVD on. Chris waited until she’d shut the door behind her.

‘Maybe something came up,’ said Josh.

‘Yeah. Something’s come up all right.’

‘Chris,’ I said.

‘Well, it’s pretty damn obvious.’

‘Why don’t you call Tom?’ I said to Josh. ‘See if he’s still around.’

‘I already have. He’s gone round to his cousin’s.’

‘Well, we can stay in, if you like,’ I offered.

‘No, there’s no need. You go.’

‘Are you sure?’ I asked.

‘Yeah.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, rubbing his shoulder.

Though I suspected the evening had been ruined already.

* * *

Chris didn’t speak until we were in the car. Until I’d pulled out of the lane and was heading down the hill.

‘You know what’s happened, don’t you?’ he said. ‘She was blown out by that guy she’s seeing. Offered the ticket to Josh and told her boyfriend she was going with someone else to try to get back at him. Then when he’s come running back, she’s ditched Josh. She’s just using him.’

‘If I didn’t know you better –’ I began.

‘What?’ he broke in.

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Yes, it does. You think I’m jealous, don’t you?’

‘You seem very het up about it, that’s all.’

‘Yeah. Because she’s messing Josh around.’

‘And that’s all it is?’

‘Jesus, what do you take me for?’

‘Well, what am I supposed to think? Ever since she came back you’ve been on edge, and you refuse to talk about her.’

‘Because there’s nothing to say.’

‘Of course there is. You lived with her for nearly five years, Chris. You had a child with her. You obviously –’ I stopped short of saying the words.

He was quiet for a minute or two, until we pulled up at the traffic lights at the junction with the main road.

‘Look, it doesn’t matter what I felt for her back then. The day she walked out on us everything changed for ever.’

I heard the catch in his voice. Noticed his clenched hands in his lap. I knew that I had to tread very carefully.

‘She looked happy,’ I said. ‘In the photos with Josh, when he’d just been born.’

‘Yeah. She was.’

‘Was he a planned baby?’ I asked.

‘No. Not really. He was very much loved, though. By both of us.’

‘So what happened?’ I asked.

‘She scared me,’ he said. ‘That’s what happened. And that’s all you need to know.’

I drove on in silence. To a meal I no longer had an appetite for.

* * *

Barbara was sitting in the lounge reading when we got home. Chris went upstairs to check on Matilda. He always did it when we’d been out. He even put his head round Josh’s door as well. Old habits die hard.

‘How was your meal?’ asked Barbara.

‘Fine, thanks,’ I said. ‘The food was good, anyway.’

Barbara nodded. She understood what I meant. ‘Don’t let her spoil things,’ she said. ‘She’s not worth it.’

‘Were they happy together?’ I asked.

‘Yes,’ she said.

‘So what happened?’

‘She abused his trust,’ said Barbara. ‘And when she got found out, she knew exactly how to hurt him.’

He’d always been into the Carpenters. I mean, I didn’t mind them, I was never keen on that ‘Jambalaya’ one but the rest of their stuff was perfectly OK to listen to. If anyone ever asked him who his favourite singer was, he’d say, ‘Karen Carpenter – voice like velvet,’ and give a little sigh afterwards. There was always a Carpenters CD on in the car, I don’t think he had anything else in there, and I never even complained about that.

And then, one day, I came home early from the shops, when he wasn’t expecting me, like. He obviously didn’t hear me because he had ‘Close to You’ on at full volume, and I walked into the front room and there he was, stark naked in front of the gas fire apart from his socks, pleasuring himself, like, while he looked at a picture of her, of Karen Carpenter.

I told him that night. I said he had to choose, me or Karen. And he, well, he chose her.

It was snowing the next morning. And even though we’d had a carpet of snow for much of the previous winter, the arrival of the first of this season’s offering was still enough to elicit squeals of delight from Matilda when I pulled back her bedroom curtains.

‘Can I go out and play in it?’ she asked.

‘After breakfast, yes.’

‘Will Josh come with me?’

‘Probably not, he’s still in bed. So keep the noise down, please, missy.’

‘Why didn’t his mum tell him she wasn’t coming?’

‘We don’t know, love.’

‘I don’t think she’s a very nice mummy, is she?’

‘We can’t say that, love. There could be a good reason.’

‘Can I build a snowman?’

‘I don’t think there’s enough for that yet.’

‘But if there is after breakfast, can I?’

‘Of course you can.’ I smiled.

I went back downstairs while she got dressed. Chris was gathering his camera gear. He’d hardly said a word to me since we’d come home the previous night. I was annoyed with myself for letting Lydia get the better of me. I wanted to make amends.

‘You off out?’ I asked.

‘Yeah. You don’t mind, do you? Only the light’s perfect right now. I won’t be long.’

‘Of course not,’ I said. ‘As long as you take a turn with the sledging this afternoon.’

‘Is she up for it?’

‘Has she ever not been up for it?’

‘Fair point. I’ll see you later.’

I nodded. He gave me a peck on the cheek before he left. I watched him walk across the field behind our house and start to climb the hill beyond. He thought nothing of lugging all the camera gear with him. He used to go up on the tops taking photos with Josh in a backpack, when he was little. He’d told me about it. I imagined watching them there sometimes. A tiny Josh tight against his back. Safe with his father. And Chris happy because he had everything he needed. Everything he loved. And no one could take that away from him.

‘Where’s Daddy?’ asked Matilda as soon as she came down.

‘He’s working. He’s gone up on the tops to take some photos.’

‘Ohhh. I wanted to go too.’

‘You’d be bored, love. He wouldn’t have time to play. He’s going to get the sledge out for you when he comes back.’

‘Yay!’ Matilda grinned and sat down for her breakfast.

She ate her cereal in record time, ran to put her wellies and coat on and scrabbled at the back door like a mad puppy desperate to be let out.

‘It’s OK,’ I said, putting her hat on and digging out her scarf. ‘It’s not going to melt. It’s freezing out there.’

‘Are you coming too?’ she asked.

‘Later,’ I said. ‘I’m going to cook some breakfast for Daddy and Josh first.’

She played happily in the snow for about fifteen minutes. I glanced out to check on her every now and again. She was utterly engrossed in creating some kind of snow monster by the look of it. She opened the back door as I was turning the sausages over.

‘I’ve run out of snow,’ she said. ‘Can I go out the front to get some more in my bucket?’

‘OK, but go carefully. It’ll be slippery on the paving stones.’

She nodded and disappeared round the side of the house. We only had a small front garden but the snow tended to drift against the house in a certain wind.

There were still no sounds from upstairs. I wasn’t going to wake Josh, although I was still tempted to have a chat with him before Chris came back, try to smooth things over in advance.

I heard a shout from outside. I wasn’t sure at first, but then I heard it again.

It was Matilda calling ‘Mummy!’

I knew from the tone of her voice and the volume of the shout that something was wrong. I took the pan off the hotplate and ran straight out the front, still in my slippers and dressing gown.

Lydia was standing in the garden, entirely inappropriately dressed for the weather in a short black skirt, crop top and bare legs. She had a cigarette in one hand and a morning-after-the-night-before look about her.

Matilda ran full pelt at me, throwing her arms around my waist and burying her face in my tummy.

‘Are you OK, love?’ I asked.

‘She made me jump. And she shouted at me.’

‘I didn’t mean to scare her,’ Lydia said, slurring slightly as she spoke.

‘Why did you shout at her?’

‘I asked her if Josh was in and she didn’t fucking reply.’

‘Go inside, love,’ I said to Matilda. ‘Pop a DVD on. I’ll be with you in a minute.’

Matilda scowled at Lydia and ran inside.

‘Will you watch your language in front of her, please.’

‘I need to see Josh.’

‘You were supposed to see him last night.’

She walked a few steps closer to me. I could smell the alcohol on her breath from ten paces.

‘I know. I came to say I’m sorry. He’s turned his phone off.’

‘Well, it’ll have to wait. You’re drunk. Josh is still asleep. I’ll tell him you came. And if he wants to call you, he will.’

‘He’s my son, you know, not yours,’ she said, her face
close enough to mine that I could smell the cigarette smoke in her hair.

‘I know,’ I said. ‘But he lives in my house.’

‘It’s not yours,’ she said. ‘It’s Chris’s. And I lived in it long before you.’

She took a puff on her cigarette and blew the smoke out in my face, before turning on her heels and tottering off, making stiletto prints in the snow as she left.

‘Please don’t come here again without asking first,’ I called after her.

I stood shaking in the garden for a second before hurrying back indoors. Josh was on the landing.

‘That was Mum, wasn’t it?’he asked.

I nodded.

‘What was all the shouting about?’

‘She was drunk. She scared Matilda.’

‘Is Tilda OK?’

‘Yeah, she’s fine. I’m going to check on her now.’

‘Sorry.’

‘You don’t have to apologise for her, Josh.’

‘She’s my mum, isn’t she?’

‘She’s not your responsibility, though. She’s old enough to know better.’

‘Dad’s going to go ape, isn’t he?’

‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘he probably will.’

Josh sighed and disappeared back to his room. I went into the lounge. Matilda was sitting on the sofa. She still had her coat on. I sat down next to her and put my arms around her. Kissed her softly on the forehead.

‘Are you OK, sweetheart?’ I asked.

She nodded, not taking her eyes off the television where
Scooby-Doo
was on. ‘I don’t like her. She shouldn’t have come here.’

‘No, love, she shouldn’t. And I’ve told her not to come back without asking first.’

‘Why wasn’t she dressed properly?’

‘I don’t think she was really thinking straight.’

‘And she was smoking and she said a bad word.’

‘I know. I’m sorry.’

She looked up at me, her big brown eyes unusually serious. ‘I want it to go back to how it was before.’

‘I know, love. But it can’t do. Not now.’

She started to cry.

I hugged her in to me, stroking her hair. ‘It’ll be OK, love,’ I said. ‘Everything will be OK.’

I heard Chris’s key in the door. Before I could stop her, Matilda pulled away and ran out to him.

‘Josh’s mum was in the garden and she made me jump and she said a bad word and Mummy got cross with her and made her go away.’

I heard the words tumble out of her mouth and got to the hallway in time to see Chris’s eyes darken, his jaw tense.

‘Is this true?’ he asked.

‘Yes. Matilda’s fine. Lydia didn’t touch her. She just scared her.’

‘Did she see Josh?’

‘No, he was still in bed. He heard some of it and he knows what happened.’

‘Right. Well, he’ll understand that it stops there, then.’

I gestured down at Matilda. I wasn’t going to have this conversation in front of her.

‘Can you manage a second breakfast, love?’ I asked.

She nodded.

‘Take your coat off and pop and wash your hands, then. I think we all need warming up.’

‘Shall I get Josh?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, you can do. But if he says he’s not hungry, that’s OK.’

I watched her go up the stairs. Chris waited until she was out of earshot.

‘What the hell was she doing here?’

‘She said she’d come to apologise to Josh.’

‘Oh yeah, turning up drunk and scaring his little sister, that’s a great way of apologising.’

‘Just don’t say anything to Josh if he does come down for breakfast. He looked pretty cut up about it. You know how he hates anyone upsetting his sister.’

Chris sighed. Shook his head. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, bit shaken, that’s all.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t you start apologising as well.’

‘No. I’ve been thinking. She’s my ex. You shouldn’t have to put up with any of this.’

‘It’s not that easy, though, is it? We can’t just make her go away.’

Matilda came back downstairs with Josh trailing behind her. We sat down together in the kitchen, Josh seemingly
unable to look anyone in the eye. I dished up what was left of the cooked breakfasts. We sat in silence. Josh prodded the sausage around on his plate for a bit, then pushed back his chair and stood up.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m not really hungry.’

* * *

When I went into Matilda’s room the next morning she was curled tightly in her duvet, her back facing me. I sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out to stroke her head.

The sheet next to her was damp. Very damp. I raised my hand towards my nose. The smell was unmistakable.

I shut my eyes and bit my lower lip. I could barely remember the last time she’d wet the bed. Not for years. Maybe once, when she was about five, and she was poorly.

I stroked her cheek with the back of my hand. It was a moment or two before she came round. She opened her eyes. Within seconds there was a frown on her face.

‘I’m all sticky,’ she said.

‘I know, love. You’ve had a little accident. It doesn’t matter. We’ll soon get you cleaned up.’

Her face crumpled. The tears came.

And I wished to God that Lydia hadn’t come back.