by Gemma Rogers
‘You’re stocking up.’ David laughed, taking the bags from me to carry.
‘I’m unprepared this year, and the less baking or cooking I have to do the better,’ I said, putting my arm through David’s. The weather was turning cold and I huddled closer to him as we strolled along.
‘I haven’t forgotten, you know, that the anniversary is coming up. I never know whether to mention it or not. I don’t want to upset you,’ David said softly, laying his hand over mine, the warmth seeping into my fingers.
‘I don’t know whether to ignore it, or fall apart,’ I replied, feeling tears prick my eyes. The mere mention of the miscarriage felt like my heart was being ripped out. I understood why David felt it was a minefield bringing it up.
‘We’ll do something, buy a rose plant or name a star, something like that. We should have done it last year.’ David grimaced, that awful time replaying in his mind.
‘A rose sounds like a nice idea.’
‘Are you upset we’re not going to Nottingham?’ David asked and I was grateful for the change of subject.
I contemplated for a moment. ‘Not upset… disappointed perhaps. I must let Stella know later on today, I haven’t called her back yet,’ I said. I would have preferred we all get out of the area for a blissful few days where I knew we would be free from Nicky. Charlotte would likely ask for him to come over on Christmas Day, but there was no way he would be. Hopefully by then things would be over between them. With any luck, Nicky would end it today.
My handbag vibrated against my side and I knew a text had come through on the Motorola. I hoped David hadn’t heard the buzz it made, but the hustle and bustle of the market was loud.
On the way home, he stopped at the newsagents to buy the Sunday papers, which for some reason hadn’t been delivered that morning. While he was in the shop, I pulled the Motorola out of my bag and flicked it open, frowning at the text.
Your daughter is a star
49
I had no idea what it meant, although it sounded ominous. I slipped the phone back into my bag and swapped it for my current one, checking there were no texts from Charlotte. As expected, there weren’t.
David climbed back into the car passing the papers over for me to hold. On the front page, there was an image of a priest who had been found molesting young boys. I tutted as I read the headline. David turned and looked before he plugged in his seat belt and drove away.
‘I know, paedos. They’re everywhere. Should be strung up,’ David spat. Would he consider me a paedophile too? I guessed as Nicky was an adult I couldn’t be, but he was still half my age. I knew in the eyes of the law, it was illegal, even though Nicky was eighteen, because I was in a position of trust. If it was reported, I could end up on the sex offenders register.
Blood drained from my face and I shook the thought from my head. The affair was over now, but was the damage yet to be done? I had no idea whether I would come out of it unscathed.
When we got home, I busied myself with chores. I had a mountain of washing to get through and all the sheets to change. David prepared a casserole, which he put in the oven for a few hours. When I got to the ironing, it was almost seven and Charlotte still wasn’t home. She came through the door at nine, having been dropped off by Pat. She was rosy-cheeked and grinning from ear to ear, flopping onto the sofa opposite David.
‘Did you have a nice day?’ I asked, trying to hide my disappointment there’d clearly been no break-up. Nicky’s message had been whirring through my mind all afternoon. I’d been trying to decipher it but had been at a loss. Obviously I couldn’t ask Charlotte what it meant.
‘Yeah great, we went bowling and then to the restaurant, where they had those enormous sundaes. Oh, Nicky said thanks for his card by the way.’
I frowned and looked at David.
‘Charlotte brought it. I signed it from both of us as you weren’t around,’ he said.
Great, he’ll think it’s an endorsement.
‘Did he like his T-shirt?’
Charlotte nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yep. I’ve got a tiny bit of Geography homework to finish, so I’m going to go and get it done,’ Charlotte said and went upstairs.
‘You still don’t like him, do you?’ David said.
That was an understatement.
‘I just think he’s too old for her, that’s all. He’s going to break her heart,’ I said defensively. I was starting to think my ultimatum hadn’t worked, that Nicky wasn’t about to toe the line and finish with Charlotte. I felt on edge, constantly wondering what he was he playing at.
When Monday came, I struggled to get out of bed and, in a bizarre reversal of roles, had to be cajoled by Charlotte, who was already dressed. It was so cold, I wore long boots and trousers and, mainly because I didn’t feel like it, I put on lipstick too. If I couldn’t feel ready for the day, at least I could look like it. Fake it until you make it was the phrase, wasn’t it?
Mondays weren’t so bad with the free period in the morning and the assembly in the afternoon. They went pretty quickly.
Along the corridor some of the sixth-formers and Matilda were putting up intricate snowflake decorations that must have been made during Art class. I stopped to say hello, commenting on how beautiful they were. Ruth, the school secretary, walked past, lugging an artificial Christmas tree, still in its box, towards the trophy cabinet. Christmas had officially begun at St. Wilfred’s, although still a little early for me at home.
After a brief chat with Matilda, I visited the library to change some books, in the hope I’d see Nicky, so I could ask why he was still dating my daughter when I’d expressly told him to end it. Nicky was nowhere to be seen, although he was at assembly in the afternoon, sitting at the back, staring first at me and then at Charlotte to unsettle me. I ignored him, knowing it would annoy him more that I wouldn’t play his silly games.
At the end of the day, I collected my things and as I was about to leave the classroom to find Charlotte, Nicky walked in. He sat on the first desk opposite me, dropping his bag to the floor and pulling his phone out of his pocket.
‘Hi Miss!’ he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
‘I thought you were breaking up with Charlotte this weekend?’ The words spilled out of my mouth.
‘What, on my birthday? Now that wouldn’t be very nice, would it? Especially after she made me such a lovely present.’ His eyes focused on the screen of his phone, his fingers moving silently across it.
‘I’m not doing this any more, Nicky,’ I sighed and picked up my handbag, ready to leave.
‘I think you are,’ he said and I felt an icy grip take hold. ‘You know I said your daughter is a star. Well, she will be, when this video does the rounds.’ Nicky held the phone out towards me, showing the unmistakable image of Charlotte on the screen. I froze to the spot, a lead weight in my feet, unable to move as the video played out in front of me. Vomit burned my throat and I squeezed my lips tightly together as I pushed Nicky’s hand away.
I sprinted down the corridor to Mr Scott’s office, the sound of my heels echoing on the floor. Unstoppable tears streamed, I couldn’t eradicate the image of Charlotte from my mind. I reached his office, but it was locked. I beat my fists against it, but there was no response. Ruth had gone home, so I ran around to the school office to ask Jackie, the administrator, but found her deep in conversation with two parents, their child sitting on a chair inside the office. I didn’t have time to be polite and interrupted their discussion.
‘Has Mr Scott gone already?’
Jackie looked on, surprised at my outburst, but then saw how upset I was.
‘Yes, he’s been called to a meeting at the local council office. Mrs Cole, are you all right?’
I didn’t answer, I turned and ran back to my classroom. Nicky had gone, but my bag remained on the desk. I found my phone, which had a text from Charlotte, saying she was going to Nicky’s after school but would be back for dinner.
I slumped in the chair, my head in my ha
nds. Nicky had played me a video of Charlotte giving him oral sex in his bedroom. It had the potential to ruin Charlotte’s life; her reputation would be in tatters. Even beyond high school, things like that could follow a person to university or into employment. The image was now ingrained in my mind. It sickened me.
What had I seen in Nicky? I’d been such a fool not to see him for what he was. Nicky was a narcissist and enjoyed exerting control over people. I had to take back control. He was banking on me staying quiet because of everything I could lose. None of those things mattered any more. Charlotte’s safety and future were in jeopardy; there was no time to hang around. I toyed with the idea of calling the police, but first I had to speak to David and come clean about everything. Then, after the initial shock, we could deal with Nicky together. However angry he’d be at me, I knew I could count on him as far as Charlotte was concerned. He’d step up for his daughter without a doubt.
As I drove home, my temperature climbed. Underneath my arms, patches appeared; I felt like a lamb to the slaughter. I had no idea what I was going to say to David. How would I even begin? I felt shaken to my core, knowing, after tonight, life would change forever.
When I got there, David’s car was nowhere to be seen. It was only four o’clock, so it was likely he was still working. I went inside and paced around the front room, wringing my hands as I tried to form the words in my head of what I was going to say. David was going to be so angry with the mess I’d dragged our family into.
I called Stella, who spent the first ten minutes trying to get me to stop hyperventilating so she could understand what I was saying.
‘Fuck, Izzy, you’ve got to get that video. Christ, poor Charlotte. You’ll have to go to the police. It’s proof of him with a minor.’
‘You can’t see his face,’ I whimpered.
‘It doesn’t matter, it’ll be possessing indecent images of a child or something to that effect. They’ll seize the phone.’
I felt dizzy, my blood pressure skyrocketing.
By six o’clock, I’d already downed a glass of wine when the front door opened. My heart leapt, but it was Charlotte coming home for dinner. In my fretful state, I’d forgotten to prepare one.
‘When’s dinner, Mum?’ Charlotte called as she trudged upstairs, oblivious anything was amiss.
‘In about fifteen minutes,’ I called back, my voice higher-pitched than normal.
I ran around the kitchen, pulling bowls out of cupboards, and got a pan on the stove to boil some water for pasta. I had a jar in the cupboard I could use. If I threw in some tomatoes and peppers I had left over in the fridge and covered it with cheese no one would notice it had been thrown together at the last minute. As the pasta cooked, I chopped vegetables, which gave me something to focus on, although my mind kept wandering. Where was David?
I checked my phone, there was nothing. I checked the Motorola and opened a new message from Nicky, containing the video he’d shown me earlier. I’d only watched a couple of seconds of it. I was about to delete it, when something stopped me. Stella was right, the video was evidence of an adult engaging in a sex act with an underage girl. What did they call it? Grooming, that was it. If he shared that video with anyone, he was going to go to prison for a long time. He intended to ruin my life, but I was damn well going to make sure I dragged him down with me.
50
‘Shit!’ I accidently cut my finger chopping the end of the pepper. Raising it to my lips to suck the blood, I braved a look, but it wasn’t too bad. A plaster would fix it.
I threw the sauce and vegetables in with the cooked pasta and stirred it through, letting it simmer gently whilst I grated cheese into a bowl. My hands trembled as I scooped the pasta into two bowls and the front door opened. David came in. I heard the thud of his laptop case hitting the floor and my pulse quickened. It’s OK, he doesn’t know anything yet.
‘Oh wine. Brilliant, another glass?’ he said, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek and filling my glass before pouring one for himself. I could tell he’d had a drink as I could smell the beer on his breath. He must have stayed after work to have a drink in the pub with his colleagues before coming home. Either that or he’d been with Paula? No, he’d told me it was over and she didn’t work there any more. I had to trust him otherwise what was the point? However, it would have been nice for him to let me know.
I filled another bowl with pasta. There was barely enough for the three of us. It looked a bit measly with no bread or salad, but no one seemed to notice.
I slid into my seat at the table and pushed the pasta around with my fork, unsure how to even broach the subject with David, let alone drop the bombshell that I’d been having an affair. We’d discussed his infidelity and I’d been willing to move on with the assurance it wouldn’t happen again. Would he be so accommodating with mine?
Charlotte looked up from her bowl and glanced surreptitiously at David and then me. The dinner table was unusually quiet, and it made Charlotte suspicious.
‘Is something wrong with you two?’
David shook his head, bemused. ‘Not that I’m aware of,’ he said, glancing at me.
I shook my head; glad my mouth was too full to speak. Our fifteen-year-old daughter had noticed the atmosphere which my husband was oblivious to.
Charlotte went back to playing with her phone and clearing what was left in her bowl. I stared at her, trying to put together the girl sat at the table and the one on the video. My brain wouldn’t comply. I had to make sure David never saw that video. I needed to save him from that. I felt fraught, on the edge of bursting into tears.
David finished his glass of wine quickly and poured another, topping up my now half-full one. If I carried on, I was going to be tipsy when I spoke to him. It wasn’t a good idea for David to be drunk either. I couldn’t be sure how he’d react with the unpredictability alcohol brought into the mix.
After dinner, Charlotte went back upstairs to get changed as she was going out with Nicky again that evening. Apparently to ‘shoot pool’ with his friends, she informed us as she left the table, promising to be back by nine o’clock.
‘I’m going to get changed too,’ David said, leaving his empty bowl on the table and following in his daughter’s footsteps. His second glass of wine was almost empty, and I looked around at the mess in the kitchen, but tonight it could wait.
I followed David to our bedroom, where he was getting out of his suit to put comfier clothes on.
‘We have to talk,’ I said, pushing the door to behind me.
‘Oh god, what about now?’ David sighed. He sounded exasperated.
I frowned, was this the drink talking? ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Well, there’s always some bloody drama, isn’t there?’ he said, unbuttoning his shirt. His words stung like a slap around the face.
‘Why are you acting like an arse?’ I asked, losing my temper all too easily, my voice louder than I’d intended.
‘I’m an arse, am I?’ David bit back, his volume matching mine. He looked ridiculous standing in his boxer shorts and socks, with his shirt hanging open.
‘Right now you are, yes. I create drama, do I?’ Feeling more frustrated by the second, ready to let the anger I’d buried resurface.
‘It’s one thing after another, even when we were in Wallington. First it was Charlotte’s bad-influence friends, then Stella moving to Nottingham. Then you not liking Charlotte’s boyfriend, then you went and got yourself suspended. You jump from one crisis to another. Or have I got it wrong? Did you come to talk to me about the gas bill?’ He reached for his jeans and pulled them on, first one leg, then the other. He rocked unsteadily on his feet.
‘Well, I’m sorry my life is so problematic,’ I shot back, annoyed I’d bitten. I hadn’t intended for our conversation to go this way.
‘I’m sorry, I’ve had a shit day at work, and I was hoping to come home and chill. It just seems there’s always a problem; you haven’t been the same since you found out about the ba
by,’ David sighed.
I gasped. He rarely brought up the miscarriage; at the weekend when we were at the Christmas fair, it was the first time he’d mentioned it in months. Using it against me now was like a knife in my side. Tears erupted and his face instantly softened, regret echoing in his eyes. He reached for me, but I jerked away.
‘How could you say that?’ I shouted, my voice full of hatred for my husband.
‘We moved to get away from it all, to put it behind us,’ David said, his voice wavering.
‘And you found it all so easy, didn’t you,’ I spat, trying my best to hurt him. Looking at his face, I’d succeeded.
‘Fuck you, Izzy! It was my baby too.’ He flung off his shirt and pulled a jumper over his head, before shoving me out of the way of the door. Hurling it open, he froze in the doorway and I looked past him to see Charlotte on the stairs, gaping at us. Her eyes widened before she scurried away, knowing she’d bore witness to something she shouldn’t have. David tore after her and I thought he was going to explain, but I heard him grab his keys and then the front door slammed.
A couple of minutes later, I heard the door again and I looked out of the window to see Charlotte climbing into Nicky’s car. The house was quiet once again and only then did I let myself sob into my pillow. Everything was such a mess right now and I didn’t know what to do. I’d ruined my chance to talk to David and now I’d have to wait to tell him about Nicky. His car was still outside, so I assumed he’d walked to the pub to prop up the bar there.
I wrapped the covers around me and cried until my eyes were swollen and head ached. I felt numb. There would be another day where the video of Charlotte was out in the world and there was nothing I could do about it unless I went to the police. I felt utterly helpless. Throwing the duvet off, I ran downstairs to text Nicky.
OK you win. I’ll do whatever you want. Just delete the video.