by Zoe Lea
I’ll remind us both, every week, exactly what we are, and what we did.
THIRTY-ONE
‘Ruth? I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t urgent, please.’
I paused. I still hadn’t forgiven my mother, was still bristling a bit with her for lecturing me earlier, but the panic was clear in her voice and I gave a sigh.
‘What is it this time?’ I asked, and nodded to Sam to get in the car, resigning myself to the fact that I had to talk to her, she was my mother, there was no escape.
It had been a long week, a long term, and I really wanted to get straight home. Becca wasn’t talking to me; she’d avoided me for the past week since I’d confessed and I felt bad about it. Uneasy. I could understand that she was a little surprised at what I’d done, but a small part of me was quite pissed off with her. She’d been through it all with me before, but now, when I was finally standing up for myself, where was she? This was the first time that she’d abandoned me. It was the first time I’d done anything assertive, and a part of me wondered if she had a problem with that. If Becca actually preferred me being the victim, someone who needed her help. Perhaps me having such a shit time of it made her feel better about her life and now, well, now I was taking control and it was obvious she didn’t like it.
‘If it’s chest pains again,’ I said, as I checked Sam was buckled in, ‘then you should call the doctors. I can’t help with that.’
‘No, no,’ my mother’s voice was trembling, ‘it’s something else. I need you to come here, I don’t want to say what it is over the phone.’
I straightened up. I could hear real fear in her voice.
‘Mum? Is everything OK?’
‘Just come here would you, Ruth? Please?’
‘I’m on my way,’ I told her, ‘but you’re scaring me a little, Mum. If you’ve got chest pains—’
‘It’s not me!’ she suddenly said, ‘it’s something else and I really need you here.’
Twenty minutes later and I was pulling up in her drive, unsure what to expect. As we got out of the car, she was there, at the door.
‘What’s all this about?’ I said, going up to her, Sam at my side. ‘You’ve got me worried, is everything OK?’
‘It’s Trixie,’ she said, and her eyes bubbled with tears. ‘Won’t come out of her basket.’
It was the bloody dog.
‘Mother,’ I walked past her, into the lounge where the fire was blazing, the dog’s bed right in front of it. ‘I drove like a lunatic to get here. I thought you were ill, I thought it was something serious.’
‘This is serious!’
Sam immediately went to Trixie, stroking her head and talking softly to her. She was panting, but didn’t seem to be in pain.
‘How long has she been like this?’
‘Since last night, I thought it was something she’d eaten, but she wouldn’t get up this morning and she’s been like that all day.’
‘Trixie!’ Her eyes flickered at my voice. ‘C’mon,’ I asked her, ‘c’mon, girl. Out you get, c’mon and play.’
She made a move to get up and then, after a few feeble steps, went back to her basket.
‘Is she going to die?’ Sam’s voice was a whisper.
‘I don’t know,’ I told him, ‘but Trixie’s pretty old.’
Sam’s lip started to tremble.
‘You should call the vet,’ I told my mother. ‘She doesn’t seem to be in pain, but this could be anything. She might’ve just eaten something off.’
‘The vet’ll put her down.’ My mother stuffed a wet tissue to her nose. ‘She’s fourteen, I know exactly what the vet will do.’
‘Trixie’s fourteen?’
My mother nodded and I looked at Sam. He wiped his face with the heel of his hand.
‘Hey,’ I told him, ‘just because she’s old doesn’t mean she’s going to die. She might just have a stomach ache. Or feel a bit tired.’
‘I told your dad, but he didn’t want a puppy. He wanted a dog where all the hard work was done, but now look. He’s gone and left me and now the bloody dog is going as well!’
‘Mum.’ I glanced at Sam.
‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘it’s just, well, it’s all got on top of me. What with you shouting at me the other day, and then Trixie getting ill.’
I went to say something but her body shook as a sob overtook her. Now was not the time to call her dramatic. I put my arms around her instead, her face pressed to my shoulder.
‘Cup of tea?’ I asked after a while, and I felt her nod.
‘You stay with Trixie,’ I instructed Sam. ‘We’re having a cup of tea and then I’ll call the vet.’
‘You won’t!’ my mother said, as we went into the kitchen. ‘Last time he looked at her, he said she’d not got long and then charged me a hundred pounds just to be told that.’
I said nothing as I boiled the kettle. The dog needed a vet, but what if my mother was right? What if they put the dog down and then charged us for it? I didn’t have the money for vet bills.
‘She doesn’t seem to be in any pain,’ I said, more to myself than my mother. ‘Not crying or whimpering. We could see how she is in the morning.’
We drank the tea in silence for a while, my mother occasionally dabbing at her eyes. There was an atmosphere and I wasn’t sure how to dispel it, or if I wanted to. I sipped my tea and watched her over the rim of my cup.
‘Becca called,’ my mother said eventually, and I put my drink down.
‘Becca called you?’
‘She’s worried –’ she sniffed ‘– told me she thinks you might be suffering from—’
‘I’m not suffering from anything,’ I interrupted quickly. ‘We had a disagreement. That’s all. Becca’s not happy with how I handled something and she’s making a point.’
I took another drink, slightly bristling at Becca ringing my mother like I was a child. A pupil in her class.
‘I can’t believe she called you. When was this?’
‘Yesterday.’
I watched as she put her tissue in the bin and went to get herself a fresh one. I kept quiet. Waited to see if she would say anything else. Eventually, after a while, she did.
‘She told me.’
I gritted my teeth.
‘Becca told me that, well, that you slept with one of the parents and might lose your job.’
‘What?’
My mother nodded. ‘Why couldn’t you tell me? I would’ve understood. I can understand you’re ashamed of what you did, him being a married man, but you said you didn’t have an affair.’
‘I’m not ashamed and it wasn’t an affair. It was one night.’
‘But Ruth, it explains everything.’ She put her hand out. ‘That’s why all of this is happening to you, isn’t it?’
I put my cup down carefully, frightened that if I started to shout at my mother, I might not be able to stop. I was aware of Sam in the next room, of the poorly dog.
‘Becca had no right telling you that,’ I said quietly. ‘A lot of stuff has happened since that morning and it’s almost finished now. I’ve put a stop to it.’
‘But that’s why Will is so upset,’ my mother went on. ‘I think, in his own way, he’s jealous.’
I was too stunned to answer.
‘Jealous?’
‘Men are like that,’ my mother went on. ‘He might’ve been the one to have left, but he won’t be able to stand the thought of you with someone else. It makes sense, don’t you see? That’s why he’s lashing out. I think he probably still has feelings for you.’
What she was saying was so left field, I couldn’t grasp it. It was like something from the 1940s, some kind of weird sexist attitude of ‘men will be men’. I stood up, my chair scraping the floor.
‘Ruth –’ she put her hand out ‘– please sit down. Don’t go again. I’m sorry. I need you, I’m upset about the dog. I’m upset about you going through all this with Will. I’m upset about what it’s all doing to Sammy. And –’ she gave a weak
smile ‘– I’ve tried to fix it.’
I stared at her, still standing. She had that look on her face, the one where she thinks she’s been clever. The kind of look she used to give me when she’d got some herbal remedy for my dad that somebody had sworn by. The kind of look I knew to be wary of.
‘I’ve not slept, with the worry,’ she went on. ‘It was eating me up. I had to do something. I’m so worried about you, about Sammy. And after what Becca told me, well, it all made sense. So don’t get mad, just give it a chance, that’s all I’m asking. Just five minutes.’
‘Mother,’ my voice was low, ‘what have you done?’
‘Just five minutes,’ she begged and her face quivered. ‘After Becca called, I knew what I had to do. And he thought it was an excellent idea. He’s been trying to contact you. He wants to talk, don’t you see, Ruth? He wants to talk, to sort it all out.’
‘You didn’t?’ I shook my head, stared at her a moment in shock. ‘Tell me you didn’t?’
She didn’t answer, her lip quivered and fresh tears sprang to her eyes.
‘And as Trixie is poorly today, well, I knew you’d come.’ A tear rolled down her cheek that she quickly wiped away. ‘It’ll be fine. Trust me, Ruth. I’ve done the right thing.’
‘For God’s sake, Mother!’ I shouted. ‘When will you stop interfering?’ I snatched up my bag. ‘Sam, get your coat! We’re leaving. Now.’
But it was too late, as I walked into the hallway, ready to sweep Sam up and shove him in the car, I saw he was standing at the window, his eyes wide, his face pale.
I looked out to what he was staring at and saw Will’s silver BMW coming up the drive.
‘Mum!’ Sam looked at me, his eyes wide with terror.
I turned to my mother. ‘What have you done?’
THIRTY-TWO
‘He’s not coming in.’ I gripped Sam by the shoulders. He was shaking and then I realised it was probably me, I was probably the one who was shaking or maybe we both were. Trixie looked up from her basket and started to bark. A piercing little effort. She sensed our anxiety and was being vocal about it.
Will pulled up outside the house. He was dressed as if he’d come straight from the office – light navy suit, shiny shoes, official looking. He took out a file from the passenger seat and a familiar gut-wrenching feeling swept over me. A tight clench of anxiety and panic rising from the pit of my stomach. He looked up to the house, saw me and Sam staring at him through the window, and raised his hand in greeting.
I turned to my mother. ‘This is not happening,’ I said quickly. ‘Sam, get your coat. Now.’
‘Ruth –’ her voice had a quiver to it ‘– Ruth, please, just give him a minute. Give him time to talk.’
‘I can’t believe you’ve done this,’ I said, gathering up my bag and my keys as I helped Sam on with his coat. ‘I really can’t believe you’ve invited him here, that you’d think I’d talk to him.’
The dog was yapping now, clearly not at death’s door, and my mother bent over to her.
‘Trixie, there’s a good girl. Look, Sam! She’s OK, she’s not that ill after all.’
Sam was torn between celebrating the dog’s sudden energy and being terrified of Will coming in. I grabbed his hand.
‘We’ve got to go, honey,’ I told him, and my mother took his other hand.
‘Stay,’ she told me. ‘Really, Ruth. I spoke to him, after Becca called. He told me about what you did, with that woman’s husband, and how it’s all just got out of control. He told me that he just wants to talk, that he might drop the whole thing. Get rid of his solicitor. That woman.’
That stopped me for a moment. The thought of Ashley no longer helping Will. Maybe she’d got rid of him, after what I’d done to her, with all the threats from the animal activists. Maybe she’d got scared. Frightened of what I might do next, and told Will that she wouldn’t take on his case after all.
My mood swung from panic to curiosity. There was a knock at the door and I stared at my mother, frozen momentarily.
‘Mum?’ Sam’s voice was a whisper. ‘Mummy?’
‘We’re leaving,’ I said loudly, and then, to my mother, ‘we’re leaving right now.’
‘Hello?’ Will, not one for waiting outside, had let himself in. He stood like a giant barring the doorway, and for a moment we all stared at each other. Suspended in some ludicrous pose, the only sound the dog yapping repeatedly from her basket.
‘We’re not doing this,’ I told him. ‘My mother had no right to invite you here like I was going to talk to you. Sam, let’s go.’
‘Ruth –’ Will held his hands aloft ‘– just give me a minute. That’s all I’m asking for, a minute. Hey, buddy –’ he bent down to Sam ‘– how’re you? Feeling OK?’
I pushed Sam so he was behind me.
‘We’re not staying,’ I told Will. ‘We’re not talking to you.’ I could feel Sam shaking behind me, I could feel his terror.
‘Your mother asked me to come here,’ Will said, straightening up. ‘We both think we can come to an agreement. This is the sensible thing to do, Ruth. This is the best thing for Sam.’
I turned to her. She stood by the couch, a mass of angst.
‘Ruth, just calm down,’ he said, and that was a phrase I thought I’d never hear from him again. It was a tactic he used back when we were married. He used to tell me to ‘calm down’, ‘stop panicking’ and ‘chill out’, making me believe that I was being hysterical when I wasn’t. It had the effect of making me stop and check myself.
‘Out of my way, Will,’ I said in a low voice. ‘We’ll do all the talking in court.’
‘This isn’t good for Sam,’ he said, and as I inched forward, he didn’t move.
‘Mummy?’ Sam’s voice was small, tiny.
‘It’s all right, son, your mum will calm down in a minute.’
I felt rage build inside. I was calm. I was totally calm. He was doing it again, making me check myself, doubt myself.
‘Will,’ I said, ‘move. Now.’
‘Ruth.’ My mother touched my elbow and I shrugged her off; I’d deal with her later. ‘Ruth, just give him five minutes, just to talk.’
I stepped forward and, as I did, Will moved towards us. Sam jumped back in a panic and, as he stumbled back, he went right into Trixie, who had crawled out of her basket. He stood on her front paw and her high-pitched howl cut through the room.
‘Trixie!’ Sam dropped to the floor as the dog whimpered.
‘Take her in the kitchen,’ my mother told Sam. ‘Take her in there while your mum and dad talk for a minute.’
‘Mother … ’ I warned, but Sam was cradling the dog, looking at me, his face close to Trixie.
‘I stood on her paw, I can’t leave her,’ he began, his eyes wide with panic, and I let out a deep sigh. I shook my head. ‘Let’s take her in the kitchen,’ I told him. ‘It’s all right. It was an accident. Calm down.’
I turned to Will. ‘Looks like you’ve got your five minutes.’
Trixie was fine. It was a combination of the shock of Sam hurting her paw combined with the excitement of the energy in the room. A moment later and she fell asleep on Sam’s knee as he ate chocolate biscuits from the tin. I’d assured him that we’d be five minutes, no more.
‘But what will you say to Dad?’ Sam asked. ‘Don’t let him take me. Don’t let him.’
I leaned forward and kissed his forehead. ‘Not a chance,’ I told him. ‘Don’t you worry. I told you, the only place you’re going is home, with me.’
He gave me a smile, but still looked worried and as I gently closed the door on him I wondered what on earth I was doing. Why wasn’t I just scooping up that boy (and dog if need be) and running away? Far away, anywhere.
My mother caught me before we went into the lounge, where Will was waiting. ‘I’m glad you’re doing this,’ she whispered. ‘You hate me for it, I know you do, but it’ll work out. Just give it a chance.’
I glared at her, saying nothing. I was aware of
Will sitting a few feet away listening to our every word.
‘Ruth.’ He was sitting in my father’s armchair, the one by the window. We never used it, never went near it, and it jolted me a little to see his large frame in there. As he knew it would.
‘Could I have a moment alone with your lovely daughter, please?’
I turned to my mother, then, after a moment, gave her a nod. ‘Go sit with Sam,’ I told her, ‘make sure he’s all right. Make sure the dog’s all right. This won’t take long.’
Will took a moment, waiting until my mother had left the room.
‘Ruth, despite what you think, I’m doing this in the best interests of our son. Remember how you were before?’ I immediately wanted to smash my fist into his face at the patronising tone of his voice. ‘You imagined all sorts back then, you thought I was trying—’
‘And I was right,’ I said levelly, ‘you were having an affair.’
‘I was. Fair enough. But it wasn’t what you imagined,’ Will said. ‘I wasn’t telling everyone, broadcasting it, we weren’t laughing about it with all of our friends. I was very upset about it. Your conspiracy theory of—’
‘I don’t need to hear all this again,’ I snapped. ‘We’re not here to talk about what you did.’
Will went to his file. He opened it up and took out some papers, A4, printed.
‘All things considered,’ Will said, ‘Sam should stay with me.’ He glanced up. ‘And I’ve got the reasons here as to why.’ He looked at me steadily. ‘Let me make it clear, I don’t care what you’ve done. What you do with your life. I only care about Sam. My son. And if you’re prepared to be reasonable, and just listen, you’ll see it’s the best thing for Sam.’
I gripped the edge of the sofa, my knuckles white.
‘Sit down,’ Will said. ‘You need to hear this, Ruth, or I’ll have to tell it all to the police and I really don’t want to do that.’
‘Police?’ I spat out the word.
‘I’m prepared to discuss when Sam should stay with you,’ Will went on, ‘but that would have to be after a period of about six months, then we’ll see how you are. What state you’re in, and I’ll decide if you’re fit for Sam to be with you again.’