With or Without You (14 page)

Martha swallowed a lump in her throat as the tears began to plop onto her jeans.

‘Martha!’ Charlie said, sitting up in his seat and reaching out to put his arm around her.

Martha felt too distraught to resist him and fell against his chest. ‘I’m sorry,’ she managed to gulp, unable to stop the onslaught of grief.

‘No, no,’ Charlie hushed her, stroking her hair. ‘Nothing to be sorry for. You’ve had a terrible shock.’

After a while, Martha’s tears seemed to slow and she sat up again. ‘I need a tissue,’ she half-smiled.

Charlie reached out and plucked three tissues from the box provided in the back of the limo. He handed them to her and waited while she blew her nose and wiped her face.

‘He sent me an email,’ she said, when she had composed herself enough to speak. ‘That’s what set me off again.’

‘I gathered as much. Do you want to talk about what it said?’

Martha loved the fact that Charlie seemed to be able to judge her perfectly. He didn’t pry when she didn’t want him to, but he seemed to know when she needed to talk about
something.

‘He’s so apologetic, says it’s the only time it’s ever happened and that he’s going to spend the rest of his life making it up to me, if I’ll let
him.’

Charlie looked away.

‘What?’ Martha said. ‘Why are you looking like that?’

He met her eye again. ‘Nothing, really. It’s just . . . well, words are cheap, aren’t they?’

Martha nodded slowly. He was right. Words were cheap when your actions had said something entirely different. And Jamie was a writer. He could use words so effectively. Even in the short space
of time since she had last seen him, Martha felt as though Jamie was a stranger now, with a whole life that she knew nothing about. She had always assumed that he was spending his days at home
working on his book or preparing meals for the children or thinking of ways to entertain them when they got in from school. Never, even in her wildest imaginings, had she thought that he might be
having sex with other women behind her back. Now she had to consider that she didn’t really know this person at all. Had never known him.

‘I’ll try calling the children,’ she said, sitting back against the soft beige leather seat.

Her heart was hammering as the phone rang. She pictured it on the table in their messy hallway, with Tom and Mimi both racing to answer it first. ‘Hello?’ said Mimi, who had clearly
won the race and sounded slightly out of breath.

‘Hi sweetheart, it’s me, Mum.’ A wave of emotion surged upwards through Martha’s body.

‘Oh, hi,’ said Mimi, her voice flat.

‘What’s the matter?’ Martha sat up straighter, alarmed by Mimi’s tone.

There was a long pause and for a moment Martha wondered if she had hung up. ‘Where are you?’ Mimi asked at last, her tone hard and accusatory.

A trickle of coldness filled Martha’s belly. ‘I’m on my way to the airport. How are you, darling? Are you OK?’

‘No,’ squeaked Mimi, before dissolving into tears.

Martha’s nose tingled as her own tears threatened again. ‘Sweetheart!’ she cried. ‘What’s wrong? Why are you crying?’

‘Because you’re going off to LA with that bloody . . . that man! The one you were photographed leaving the hotel with,’ Mimi snarled through her hiccuping sobs.

‘Oh my God!’ Martha cried, leaning forward and running her hand through her hair in a panic. Beside her, Charlie mirrored her actions and leaned forward too, looking at her with
concern.

‘Well?’ Mimi shouted. ‘Are you going to LA with him or not?’

‘I . . . Look, Mimi, this is not anything to be worried about.’ Martha took a deep breath so that she sounded as reassuring as possible. ‘I am going to LA with him because
I’m writing a book with him and he’s got a couple of really big meetings that might be crucial. I’m following him, that’s all.’

‘So how come you were wearing his clothes then? The girls at school were teasing me, saying he was your new boyfriend!’ Again, she dissolved into tears on the other end of the
line.

Martha closed her eyes and tried to collect her thoughts. ‘Look, darling, it was just because Dad had ironed a hole in my dress and I had to borrow something from Charlie –
didn’t you talk to Dad about it? Didn’t he explain that?’

There was another long pause. ‘Yes,’ Mimi said at last. ‘He said the same thing.’

‘Well, then, silly! I’m sorry you got teased but I promise you that it was all perfectly innocent. There’s nothing to worry about. OK?’

‘Will you get me a photo of the Hollywood sign?’ Mimi sniffed, making Martha smile. Mimi adored all things Hollywood and often said she wanted to be an actress when she grew up.

‘’Course I will. And I’ll get a pic of some of the stars on the Walk of Fame.’

‘Really?’ Mimi cried, her tears already forgotten. ‘Cool! Do you want to speak to Dad?’

Martha hesitated. Jamie was absolutely the last person she wanted to speak to but she didn’t want to upset Mimi any further.

‘Er, yes, OK then. Put him on. And listen, darling, I love you. You know that, don’t you?’

‘I know. I love you too, Mum.’

Martha heard the phone being handed over to Jamie. ‘Hi,’ he said, sounding sheepish.

Martha suddenly felt a surge of anger towards this man who had made such a good job of destroying her happiness. ‘So, my children apparently think
I’m
the one who’s
doing the dirty, while their cheating bastard of a father gets off scot-free! How did that happen, do you think?’

‘Martha, I swear I told them it was innocent!’

‘Really?’ Martha shot back sarcastically. ‘Except that you also swore that you loved me and that you would never cheat on me, so we all know how much your
word
counts
for! You were probably thrilled to find a way of shifting the blame for our break-up onto me.’

Martha could hear Jamie closing a door. ‘Break-up?’ he hissed. ‘Is that what this is? Are you leaving us, Martha?’

The agony in his voice was unmistakable but it only added to Martha’s fury. ‘No, Jamie, I am not leaving the kids, I am leaving
you
!’

‘Look, Martha . . .’ Jamie began, and she could hear that he was struggling desperately to keep his emotions in check. ‘Please come home. We need to talk.’

‘I can’t,’ Martha’s voice cracked as she started to cry again. ‘I can’t do it just yet. I can’t look at you without seeing . . . It’s just too
raw.’

‘Baby, I know,’ Jamie replied, and he was crying too. ‘But I have to be able to show you how sorry I am.’

‘You’re only sorry because you’ve been caught,’ Martha shook her head wearily. ‘Before being caught you were having a great time. You weren’t sorry at
all.’

Jamie didn’t answer. She knew it was because she was right. She sniffed and cleared her throat. ‘I need to talk to Tom. Can you put him on?’

There was a long pause. ‘OK,’ he said at last. ‘Martha, when will you be home?’

‘I don’t know,’ she replied truthfully. ‘I don’t know. When I can face the kids without losing it, I suppose.’

‘What shall I tell them?’

‘Just tell them I love them and I’ll be home as soon as I can.’

After a few moments, Tom came on the line. ‘Hi Mum,’ he said brightly.

The contrast in his voice to those of Jamie and Mimi was so marked that it caught Martha by surprise and she had to swallow hard before she could speak. ‘Hi, darling! How are
you?’

‘Fine,’ Tom said cheerfully, giving the stock answer he always gave.

‘How was school?’ She glanced at Charlie, who was still watching her. He smiled reassuringly.

‘Fine,’ Tom replied again. Martha had had the same conversation with him many times in the past and it comforted her to have it now. It made her feel as though at least some things
were still normal.

‘That’s good. Well look, darling, I’ve got to go away for a few days but I’ll bring you something nice back, OK?’

‘Cool. I’d really love the new Pokemon game for my DS . . .?’

Martha laughed. ‘I’ll see what I can do. Love you, darling.’

‘Love you too, Mum. Bye.’ Tom hung up and Martha looked up at Charlie.

‘Well?’ he said. ‘Do you feel a bit better?’

‘A bit,’ she agreed.

‘Are you coming with me to LA?’

Martha took a deep breath, still finding it hard to believe that she was actually doing this. ‘I’m coming,’ she said, hoping desperately that it was the right decision.

Jamie pulled the door to Tom’s room until it was open about six inches ajar, allowing a strip of light from the landing to seep in. ‘Night Tom, love you,’ he
whispered into the darkness behind him. There was no reply. Tom was legendary for dropping off to sleep almost the moment his head hit the pillow.

Jamie made his way along the landing towards Mimi’s room. The music she was listening to filtered out under the door jamb and Jamie listened for a little while before knocking.

‘Come in!’ she called cheerily. Jamie entered to find her sitting cross-legged on her bed reading some kind of vampire book. She was already wearing her blue and yellow pyjamas and
her long blonde hair was loose, with crinkles where her plait had been during the day.

‘How’s the book?’ he said, sitting down wearily beside her.

She closed it and looked up at him. ‘It’s good.’

Jamie nodded and they sat in silence for a while, listening as some American teenager belted out a song that sounded to Jamie exactly the same as all the other American teenager songs that Mimi
loved so much. ‘Time to turn it off and brush your teeth, I think,’ he said, clapping his hand on her leg.

‘Are you OK, Dad?’ Mimi uncrossed her legs and shuffled forward on the bed. ‘Only, you seem a bit . . . I don’t know, sad, I suppose.’

Tears flashed into Jamie’s eyes and he blinked them away in horror. ‘Me?’ he said, over-brightly. ‘Nah, I’m fine. Just a bit tired maybe.’

‘Something’s not right,’ Mimi continued, causing his heart to trip with fear.

When Jamie didn’t reply, she got up and switched off her iPod dock. ‘I’m not stupid, you know, Dad. I know there’s something wrong. Why won’t you tell me what it
is?’

Jamie opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. Mimi was just eleven. Although she was a clever girl and mature for her age, she was still too young to be told what had happened. She
wouldn’t understand. He didn’t understand it himself, so how could she? In the end, he decided to tell her a half-truth.

‘Mum and I did have a bit of a row this morning, but it’s honestly nothing to worry about . . .’

‘What was the row about?’

Jamie closed his eyes for a moment, thinking. ‘Well, Mum is a bit fed up at the moment. You know . . . the house is a mess, she’s fed up with having to work when she’d rather
be at home with you guys . . . just general things that lots of couples argue about. It’ll be fine, sweetheart. Honestly.’ Jamie mentally crossed his fingers as he spoke, praying that
what he was saying was true.

Mimi’s big blue eyes bored into him as she tried to decide whether to believe him. ‘Hmmm. Well, I hope you sort it out soon. I miss Mum . . .’ she started to say, then stopped
as her voice caught in her throat. ‘I’ll brush my teeth,’ she added, leaving Jamie sitting on her bed.

He leaned forward and rubbed his face for what seemed like the millionth time that day. He had no idea how long Martha was going to be away, and he didn’t know if he could keep up the
pretence that everything was OK in front of the children. He gave himself a shake and stood up. He had to keep it together. He had no choice.

After kissing Mimi goodnight, Jamie came downstairs. Normally, at this time of night, he would be bustling about getting dinner ready for himself and Martha, but tonight there was no Martha and
he had no appetite. He sat at the kitchen table and stared out into the encroaching darkness, wondering what the hell he was going to do.

He felt like he needed to talk to someone. But who? It was so hard finding male friends when you were at home all day looking after the kids. All of his old friends lived in London and they had
gradually lost touch over the years anyway. As a result, he tended to gravitate towards the mothers, whose conversation he found limited if he was honest. There were a couple of other dads at the
school who were in the same situation as him, but he knew that if he confided in any of them, it was only a matter of time before their wives got wind and he would inevitably become the latest
piece of gossip on the school grapevine.

In the past, he would have talked to his mum. He could just imagine the sorts of things she would be saying to him right now, but he would give anything to hear her voice and feel her presence,
even if it was an angry one. He had been devastated by her death, but now, a year later, her loss seemed to hit him again with the same force as if it had been yesterday.

His relationship with his mum had been a close one; his dad had died of cancer when Jamie was just twelve, leaving his mum with three young boys to bring up alone. His brothers, Matt and Sam,
had been nine and seven at the time, so, as the eldest, Jamie had been forced to take on the role of supporting his mum, and being as much of a father figure to the younger boys as he could.

Clare had never remarried, and even when Martha came on the scene, she and Jamie remained as close as ever. Clare had often said that she was grateful to Jamie for choosing Martha, who embraced
and welcomed Clare’s relationship with her son instead of being threatened by it.

Clare’s sudden death from a brain haemorrhage had hit Martha almost as hard as it had Jamie, and she had been so understanding of his grief. Martha had loved her mother-in-law
unconditionally, just as she had loved Jamie unconditionally. And he had betrayed that love in the most callous way possible.

Jamie must have nodded off, because when he awoke the sky outside had darkened to a deep navy-blue and the kitchen was in complete darkness. He stood up groggily and switched on the light, his
eyes flinching at the sudden brightness. He picked up his mobile phone and looked hopefully at the screen. He had a message. He clicked on it with trepidation. It was from Martha’s best
friend Lindsay.