by Gemma Rogers
Even though the sun was shining, it was bitterly cold, with November only days away. The radio was already slipping in the occasional Christmas song and festive adverts on the television had begun. I rolled over, feeling David’s side of the bed, empty and cold. He’d slept in the spare room last night. When we’d unpacked, he’d put some shirts and trousers in the wardrobe, for when he had an early start, so I wouldn’t be disturbed. I didn’t know how long he was going to stay in there for. I guessed that was up to me. He’d made promises that he’d be home earlier, be a better husband, more attentive. As upset as I was about David’s revelations a part of me was relieved to know that I hadn’t imagined it, I wasn’t going mad. I still felt crushed by the admission and it brought the pain I would be causing David sharply into focus, if he learned of my affair with Nicky.
‘You up, Mum?’ Charlotte called from the hallway.
I checked the time; it was half past eight.
‘Yep, come in,’ I replied, and Charlotte perched on the end of the bed.
‘How about cinema this morning, lunch at Panini’s, followed by shopping as I need some make-up from Boots. Then we could go for a swim in the afternoon before I cook dinner. How does that sound?’ Charlotte looked hopeful; her enthusiasm infectious.
‘Exhausting! But yes of course. I’ll get in the shower. You check the cinema time.’
‘One step ahead of you. The film is at twenty past ten.’ Charlotte beamed.
‘Plenty of time. I climbed out of bed and pulled the covers back.
Two hours later, we were sitting in a packed cinema surrounded by teenagers. Charlotte had chosen a zombie sequel, which was also a comedy. Not something I would have picked, but it was her day. We took in our own popcorn, but Charlotte loved the slushies, so I bought a large one to share, although every time I sucked the straw it gave me brain freeze.
With the movie in full swing and Charlotte engrossed in the popcorn as much as the storyline, I managed to wrestle the Motorola from the bottom of my bag and slip it into my pocket covertly. I motioned to Charlotte I was going to the toilet, making my way out of the theatre. Once safely locked in the cubicle, I switched the phone on and waited. A message came through instantly.
I’m sorry. Please can we sort this out.
I knew Nicky was referring to Saturday night in the club.
I chewed my lip as my fingers hovered over the keys, knowing it was a mistake to get in touch. I’d managed to refrain when I’d been drunk, but the confirmation of David’s affair had floored me. I wanted comfort. I wanted to forget. I typed a message back to Nicky.
Tomorrow night. Can we talk?
I felt my chest pounding as I waited for a response and distracted myself going out to the sinks to wash my hands. I took a slow walk back to the cinema screen, still clutching the Motorola when it buzzed in my hand.
Where?
Your place, is your Mum on nights?
If things got out of hand or I changed my mind, I could leave.
Yep.
OK
I sent the message and switched the phone off, my nerves buzzed, and my stomach somersaulted. I was going backwards, not forwards. Seeing Nicky wouldn’t help get my marriage back on track, but one last roll between the sheets would make me feel better. I knew I was being petty but, in my head, I reasoned it would help me draw a line under David’s affair and move on. He’d had his fun, I’d had mine and then we’d come back together.
Charlotte had barely noticed I’d gone. She was still rhythmically shovelling handfuls of popcorn into her mouth and gazing wide-eyed at the screen. I settled back into my seat comfortably, knowing I’d be able to pick up the storyline again, but found my mind wandering. My eyes welled up in the darkness when I pictured David with Paula. Of course, in my head she was model material, beautiful with an amazing figure. I couldn’t stand it.
One last time with Nicky, that’s all it would be. I’d have to make it clear, so he knew where he stood. Just one last time and I’d end it for good.
30
As we exited the cinema, Charlotte rubbed her stomach, which was as flat as a pancake, and moaned she’d eaten too much popcorn.
‘Perhaps a bit of shopping before lunch?’ I suggested, pulling my daughter into a hug as we walked side by side.
Charlotte nodded weakly but soon perked up when she was wandering around Boots, trying all the lip gloss testers. She asked if she could get a sugary pink one and I obliged, pulling out my purse to pay. I wasn’t sure how many more of these mother-and-daughter days I would be allowed. Charlotte was growing up faster all the time, her world getting bigger and bigger and my part in it was getting smaller. The thought made my heart ache, so when, a couple of hours later, Charlotte was bored of shopping and she suggested afternoon cake and coffee instead of lunch, I decided to forgo the excess-sugar conversation and agree. Strong coffee and a thick slab of carrot cake was placed in front of me. Charlotte chose a large Bakewell tart and a tall decaf latte, and we talked about the movie.
‘Next time, Mum, you can choose,’ Charlotte said.
‘That’s OK, I wanted to spend the day with you. Doesn’t matter what we do. So, what are your plans for the rest of the week?’ I continued.
‘Amy’s tomorrow, we’re revising for maths. Staying over at hers and trampoline park on Wednesday. Thursday and Friday, more revising. Lots of revising. I need to go to the library too.’
‘OK, well, I can always take you later on in the week.’
We decided to postpone swimming for another day and went home. Charlotte was keen to get her nose in her books.
David came in at six, as Charlotte was setting the table, having cooked us Bolognese by herself. I knew his day hadn’t been great as he went straight to the fridge for a beer. However, I was pleased to see him home at a reasonable time.
‘Bad day?’ I asked as we sat at the table sprinkling cheese on our plates, going through the motions as much for Charlotte’s benefit as our own.
‘Not the best, some reporting issues. Internal system needs an overhaul.’
I nodded, there was no point pretending I was interested, finance bored me senseless. I couldn’t make head nor tail of the graphs David produced.
‘This is great,’ he said, his mouth full of pasta. I wrinkled my nose, finding it increasingly difficult to look at David and not imagine his hands all over the mysterious Paula. The idea of it made me seethe.
Charlotte beamed. ‘I can’t decide whether to become a chef or a journalist.’
‘I think you would be fantastic at either,’ I replied.
‘Do you think it would be weird if I came to your creative writing class?’ she asked out of nowhere, pulling apart some garlic bread and pushing it into her mouth. I felt my knee begin to judder beneath the table, as though it had a mind of its own. I didn’t think Charlotte was a fan of writing, although I knew she loved to read.
‘Not at all. Come and sit in on one. They’re running until the end of the year.’ It would mean Charlotte and Nicky would be in the same room, which wasn’t something I wasn’t entirely comfortable with. Although there hadn’t been a repeat of Nicky driving her home that I knew of, so perhaps I was overthinking it. Charlotte changed her mind like the wind, so it would all be forgotten by next Friday no doubt.
David loaded the dishwasher and Charlotte disappeared to her room after dinner and didn’t resurface, so I poured myself a large glass of wine and we settled in to watch some television. The atmosphere was frosty, although David tried to initiate conversation. We hadn’t spoken about his infidelity since the park, although it rested in the pit of my stomach like an undigestible rock. Had Paula really left the PR firm or was he seeing her tomorrow tonight?
I managed another large glass before I went to bed, feeling fuzzy-headed.
David came in and stroked my arm in bed as I lay rigid with my back to him.
‘I’ll ring you tomorrow night,’ he said, kissing my shoulder, before leaving to spend another night in the spare
room.
In the morning, Charlotte was keen to get to Amy’s. When she wouldn’t stop hovering, I gave up on eating my breakfast and drove her over there. It would be a relief to be alone, to not have to appear as though everything was fine. Inside I was wound as tightly as a spring. Lurching one minute from excitement at seeing Nicky later to recognising it would be a terrible mistake to end up back in his bed. Charlotte leapt out of the car and ran to the door, which was quickly opened. Louise waved at me from the window and I waved back before reversing off their driveway and returning home.
The house seemed too large when I was there by myself, and I wanted to keep busy, my mind on something else other than Nicky. I whizzed around with the hoover and duster, washed the floors and put two loads of washing through the machine, briefly stopping for an early lunch before tackling the ironing, which allowed me to catch up on the TV shows I’d recorded. It wasn’t until around two o’clock I ran a hot bath and switched on the Motorola. Two messages came through.
Mum’s on nights, leaving at six. I’m cooking dinner
Be here at 7. X
My eyebrows shot skyward. He was cooking dinner? What was I in for?
As I slid into the hot water, my skin prickled and I eased myself lower into the bath. Feeling the excitement creep in at the prospect of spending the night with Nicky, knowing I should feel guilty, but the emotion wasn’t there. Looking back at my marriage to David, I never thought in a million years either of us would cheat. David was too solid, too dependable. But he had cheated and so had I. I was about to do it again, but this would be the last time. There was no future for me and Nicky. I was risking my career; not to mention my reputation for an eighteen-year-old student. Nothing good would come of it.
After a long soak, I shaved my legs, arms and bikini line, rubbing in some expensive perfumed body lotion I’d been bought last Christmas and spritzing the perfume on my pulse points to match. I selected a pretty pink bra and briefs and slipped my favourite sky-blue cashmere jumper on, with grey skinny jeans. Casual but elegant was the look I was going for, after all I was nearly forty and if Nicky wanted leggings and a midriff-skimming top, he only had to seek out his female classmates for that.
At five, I was ready and sat in the front room clicking through the television channels, trying to find something to watch to fill the time. My stomach bubbled, breathing shallow. I felt apprehensive, knowing what I was doing was stupid retaliation to make myself feel better.
I rang Charlotte and spent five minutes catching up with her, pleasantly surprised she didn’t hurry me off the phone.
Still pacing the kitchen forty minutes later, I decided to indulge in a small glass of wine, I’d still be able to drive, and it might calm me down a bit. I texted Stella to see how she was. We had a short conversation before the carer turned up and she had to talk to them about her dad’s medication. I told her that David had come clean, but his affair was over. I didn’t tell her I was going to Nicky’s. I knew she’d talk me out of it.
I moved to the lounge to watch reruns of Homes Under the Hammer.
I’d been sat for two minutes when I heard my phone ringing from the kitchen. I hoped it wasn’t Nicky cancelling, but the Motorola was silent, it was my iPhone and David was on the other end. I slid my finger across the screen to answer.
‘Hi.’
‘Hi, hon, just checking in. Everything OK?’
‘Yes fine, been doing housework and catching up on the ironing. I dropped Charlotte around Amy’s around ten this morning, so it’s been a quiet day.’
‘She was keen to get there then,’ he said with a chuckle.
‘Well, of course, I don’t think she wants to spend any more time with me. One day out of the half-term was enough for her.’ I heard him laugh and smiled. ‘How is your day going?’ I continued.
‘Well, the conference was dull, lots of networking and now I’m back in the hotel about to get ready for dinner. Wish you were here.’
My throat tightened and the guilty feeling I’d been missing arrived with a thud.
‘What are you up to?’ David asked, filling the silence.
‘I’m going to cook a big bowl of pasta and catch up on my soaps.’
‘OK, well, have a nice evening. I’ll text you later,’ he said before hanging up.
The Motorola beeped and a new message came through.
She’s gone.
My stomach lurched, the time had arrived and now it had I felt rooted to the spot. My tongue felt thick and heavy in my mouth, was I making a mistake? I took a second to get myself together, before packing up, ready to leave, ensuring everything was switched off and the house was secure. I left the hallway light on so it would look like someone was home and, grabbing the wine and my coat, I headed out of the front door to the car.
It was cold, my windscreen starting to show signs of frost. Winter was well on its way and it took a few minutes with the blowers on before I could see where I was going.
The roads were quiet and when I arrived on Nicky’s street just before seven, I was careful to park halfway down the road, staying in the car until the road was empty. I felt like a criminal, creeping in the shadows and walking on my toes so my heels didn’t make noise on the concrete slabs.
I could see the light was on in Nicky’s kitchen through the glass at the top of the door. I gently knocked on the wooden frame, hoping he would hear it. Footsteps slapped the laminate hallway and my heart started to pound. I was excited and terrified in equal measure.
The door swung open and Nicky filled the doorway, beaming. He stepped aside, rubbing his hand over his head as his eyes devoured me, and in that moment, I wasn’t sure if it was the best decision of my life, or the worst.
31
‘Come in.’
When Nicky closed the door, he pulled me into an unexpected embrace and my body dissolved.
‘I’ve missed you.’ His boyish grin made me smile.
‘I’ve brought wine,’ I mumbled, handing him the bottle as he guided me down the hallway.
The kitchen was spotless, not how I’d expected to find it. There was a rumble of a dishwasher coming from somewhere beneath the counter. A large wok sat on the stove, filled with an amazing smelling stir fry. Next to it, a saucepan full of fluffy white rice had steam billowing out of the top.
‘Dinner is done.’
I detected a note of triumph in his voice.
‘I’ve got a beer on the go.’ He raised his bottle and took a swig as I gestured towards the single wine glass he’d retrieved from the cupboard.
‘I’m starving,’ I said, opening the wine and gulping a mouthful. My hands trembled and I felt jittery. I shouldn’t be here. It wasn’t fair to play with his feelings. I had to make it clear that it was a one-off.
As if reading my mind, he stepped across the kitchen and slid his hand under my jumper, caressing my breast through my bra. Watching me squirm, he smiled, his lip curled upwards, enjoying my discomfort. Pinching my nipple until I shrank away, out of his grasp.
‘Nicky, this is the last time we do this.’
‘Really? I’ve heard that before.’ His tone almost mocking, he turned away to switch off the stove and move the pans away from the heat.
‘Yes, really,’ I said, my voice wavering as he came back to me and started to undo my jeans.
We had quick, rough sex over the kitchen table, still mostly clothed, knocking the cutlery onto the floor. He pulled my hair, thrusting hard behind me until he’d finished. There was no pleasure in it for me.
It occurred to me I’d made a massive mistake as I pulled my underwear up and fastened my jeans. Staring at his back as he reached up to get some bowls out of the cupboard behind him, a feeling of unease wrapped itself around me. The look on his face a moment before we’d had sex was odd, menacing. He was like Jekyll and Hyde.
I clutched at my breast, the flesh still tender. I knew I’d be bruised tomorrow.
He dished up the stir fry and we sat at the table which I’d laid w
ith clean cutlery. I thought about leaving but Nicky sat and began to eat, and the moment passed. Plus, I had to make clear that once I left, it would be finished. I steeled myself to bring it up, but Nicky broke the silence.
‘Where’s David today?’ He asked and I winced at the sound of his name, wishing he hadn’t been brought into the conversation.
‘At a conference, and Charlotte is at her friend’s house.’
‘She seems like a nice girl your Charlotte, she looks a lot like you.’
‘I think she’d hate to be told that,’ I retorted, shifting in my seat, unsettled by the implication of his comment.
‘I think you’re beautiful,’ he said without any hint of embarrassment.
My face reddened and I concentrated on not choking on my mouthful of food.
‘I thought it right from the moment I saw you, do you remember… I think you were giving me the finger at the time.’ He laughed and I kicked him playfully under the table. My previous misgivings pushed aside. He seemed more like himself now.
‘Well, you were driving like a moron,’ I said and watched Nicky roll his eyes.
When we’d finished our dinner, we topped up our drinks and had a cigarette. I couldn’t deny that I was enjoying myself and keen for us to be at ease in each other’s company, as we used to be. Soon we would be climbing the stairs to his bedroom. This time I hoped I would get to enjoy him, and he’d be gentle. We’d make love like we had before, when his touch was tender and I felt safe. The idea, along with the wine, made me unsteady on my feet.