The Missing Husband

by Natasha Boydell

  Pete inhaled deeply on his e-cigarette and leaned back against the headboard, watching the tiny, pathetic little wisp of vapour waft up to the ceiling. It was nowhere near as good as the real thing but he still enjoyed the occasional hit of nicotine and he was no longer in his carefree, invincible twenties when smoking a pack of Marlboro Lights on a night out and reeking of fags was acceptable. And anyway, post-coital indulgences were restricted to devices that didn’t set off smoke alarms now. Even his vices had become boring, what a depressing thought.

  He turned to look at Claire, who was lying on her side, propped up on her elbow, watching him with an indulgent look. She was one vice that was definitely not boring. Christ, he’d missed that look. The last time he’d had sex with Kate, however long ago that was, she was sitting up and reading her Kindle within seconds of him pulling out. He couldn’t believe that their affair had already been going on for six months, yet at the same time it had become a way of life for him and he could barely remember what it had been like before. He knew he should feel bad about it and some days he did but today wasn’t one of them. After a difficult day in the office, followed by a series of passive aggressive texts from Kate about forgetting to put the bins out and generally being a terrible husband, he needed something to cheer himself up.

  Despite his sneaking around, he had managed to avoid arousing any suspicion in Kate. He and Claire never called each other, they weren’t friends on social media and he checked his clothes meticulously for lipstick or the scent of perfume every time he left her. They left work separately, only meeting again when they got to Claire’s flat and other than that cheeky night away last month they never went out, instead holing themselves up in the flat, eating deli food or takeaways, drinking wine, chatting, having sex. And life was good.

  He still knew deep down that it was wrong – all the time at first and then more intermittently as time went on – but he was starting to think that this was actually a good thing. Kate wasn’t interested in having sex with him but she was very interested in him being a good husband. And he was actually a BETTER husband now. He was happier, more attentive to her, eager to talk about the banality of her boring day every evening and taking the kids to their weekend classes and activities without complaint. He even made it through a dinner party with that ghastly woman Nadia and her boring-as-fuck husband, cooking some delicious steaks, charming them with his wit and acting every inch the perfect husband. He knew Kate had been pleased because afterwards she had come up behind him as he was doing the washing up and wrapped her arms around him, merry on wine and a successful evening of hosting. Yes, he told himself, this is actually a good thing, everyone is happy, I’m doing no harm. I love two women but I’m only in love with one. And if life had continued like that, who knows how long it could have gone on for.

  But after Oxfordshire his and Claire’s relationship had shifted slightly. Since they got back from their night away, she had begun making noises about how lovely it would be if they could go out for dinner together, hang out with friends, or even go on holiday. She never dwelled on it for too long and she quickly changed the subject when she saw that he wasn’t ready to discuss it but she had planted the seed of a new future in his mind and it was starting to grow, causing his imagination to wander down a different life path and see what was there. He imagined them down the local pub on a Saturday, a big table full of friends laughing and joking, before popping into to the chippy for a cheeky post-drink supper and then home for lazy sex. He saw them jumping on a flight to Ibiza, sitting side by side on sun loungers, uninterrupted by the noise of tantrummy children and demands for ice cream and the cold, disapproving silence of his wife, with the day stretching ahead of them, full of possibility and opportunity. He envisioned glorious weekends with the children, the four of them on day trips to London Zoo, or eating ice cream on Hampstead Heath, looking out over London. In his visions the children were clutching on to Claire’s hand and looking up at her adoringly as she laughed and cuddled them. Perhaps he was almost ready to discuss it seriously with Claire, maybe he just needed a few more months to get used to the idea. He was grateful she didn’t nag him at least.

  But in all his fantasies, they lived in London – perhaps south London, far enough away from the memories of Muswell Hill, but easily accessible to the children. So when Claire brought up France, it was quite a bolt from the blue.

  ‘Pete, I’ve been thinking,’ she said, intertwining her legs with his.

  ‘Mmm?’ he asked, still watching the vapour from his e-cigarette as it disappeared into the air.

  ‘Remember my dad’s house in France – the gorgeous one near that quaint little village?’

  Here we go, he thought, she’s going to ask me to go on holiday with her. Already he was making mental calculations of how he could get away with it, how it would work logistically and how many days he could manage without Kate getting suspicious.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about restoring it. Doing a bit of a Grand Designs job on it, making it amazing. A bit rural chic. It’s a lovely space, I think it could be amazing. I could even convert the outbuildings into gîtes and rent them out to tourists, turn it into a little boutique B&B business.’

  He hadn’t been expecting that. His mind whirred with a thousand questions – was she moving to France? Was she ending their relationship? Or was she just thinking it would be a side hustle? And where the fuck had he heard the term ‘rural chic’ before? ‘Okaaaay,’ he said slowly. ‘It’s certainly an interesting plan but what’s the aim? Would you sell it? Or would you be planning to run this business?’

  ‘So I was thinking that I would run it. From France. As in, live in France.’

  It hit him like a blow to the stomach. She couldn’t leave him, she was his lifeline, his breath of fresh air, his glimmer of hope in his otherwise dull existence. Without her his life would continue to be boring, grey, devoid of any colour or excitement. In an instant he realised how much he had come to depend on her for his happiness. He sat up straight and looked at her, not even trying to hide his alarm now.

  ‘As in MOVE to France? What the hell, Claire? You live in London, your whole life is in London. And, well I hate to be arrogant and all, but I’m kind of in London too.’

  ‘Yes, that’s true, but it doesn’t have to be.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you could come too.’

  ‘To France?’

  ‘Yes, Pete, to France.’

  She’d clearly lost the plot. There was no way in the world that he could move to France. He wasn’t even sure if he was going to leave his wife yet, let alone leave the country. Why oh why did she have to rock the boat? Things had been so perfect and now she was throwing a totally unnecessary curveball. Perhaps it’s just a fantasy, he thought, something that she talks about but will never do. But he had come to know Claire pretty well over the last few months and when she set her mind to something, it usually happened no matter what anyone else thought.

  ‘Why would I want to move to France?’ he asked her.

  ‘Why wouldn’t you? You’re always complaining about how much you hate your job and London – well this is your chance to escape it all. Just imagine, you and me in a beautiful French gîte, walking to the local bakery each morning for pains au chocolat and fresh bread.’

  ‘It’s a sweet idea, Claire, but that’s all it is, just a fantasy. You have to see that there’s no way it could actually happen. If you want to go to France then that’s your decision, though of course I’d be absolutely gutted. But there’s no way that I can do it, no matter how delightful it sounds. Now, do you fancy a Chinese?’

  She regarded him for a second, probably wondering if she should push it further before seeming to think better of it. ‘Sure,’ she replied, reaching for her phone.

  And just like that, the conversation was over. But as they ate their vegetable spring rolls and chicken satay he couldn’t help but think about what she’d said. It was a totally ridiculous idea that would
never happen, he knew that, but just for a second he closed his eyes and allowed himself to indulge in the daydream. When he opened them again Claire was looking at him with an expression that he couldn’t read but he had a sudden and horrible thought that it was disappointment. He’d let her down by dismissing her idea so quickly. And although he knew she’d been totally unrealistic to suggest it and that he had every right to tell her so, the thought of him being a disappointment to her and the prospect of her leaving him and going to France anyway, without him, absolutely terrified him. He swallowed hard and the spring roll which had tasted so amazing just a few seconds ago now caught in his throat.

  13

  Kate

  Hi, Pete. Your mum is coming to visit us today. If that doesn’t shock you into getting in touch, I don’t know what will. The girls are really excited, they can’t wait to meet her.

  Lily is getting her cast off next week, she can’t wait. She’ll have to wear one of those space boots for a couple of weeks and then she should be as good as new. We are going to McDonald’s to celebrate after the hospital appointment. Lily’s request of course. Maggie is delighted that her sister will no longer be a celebrity.

  I let Rachel go this week. I should have done it years ago, but then you already knew that didn’t you? So, I’m finally taking control again and standing on my own two feet and I’m actually feeling really good about it, a little more like the old me again. Are you proud of me?

  Where are you, Pete? And when are you coming home?

  The knock on the door made Kate jump out of her skin, even though she’d been expecting it. The girls leapt up from the sofa where they’d been looking out of the window for the last twenty minutes and clamoured for the door, as excited as if it was Christmas Day. Today, for the first time, they were meeting their granny.

  She opened the door and Karen stood in front of them, clutching bags and looking nervous. Despite being desperately excited all morning the girls suddenly became shy at the sight of her and retreated behind the safety of their mother’s legs.

  ‘Karen, hi! Lovely to see you, come in, come in.’ Kate bustled her in through the door and took her coat before ushering her into the living room. ‘Can I get you a drink? Tea? Coffee?’

  ‘Cup of tea would be nice, thanks, love,’ said Karen, looking around uncomfortably before perching on the edge of the grey sofa. The poor woman looked terrified but then so was Kate. She’d been up most of the night the previous evening panicking about the visit and wondering what on earth had possessed her to invite Karen into their lives. The girls had been confused when she’d told them that Karen was coming.

  ‘Will Daddy be there?’ Lily had asked.

  ‘No, darling, Daddy is still away at the moment,’ she’d replied.

  ‘But when is he coming home?’

  It was the first time she’d asked about Pete for a few days and, not for the first time, Kate fretted that she’d opened up a giant can of worms by inviting Karen to visit. As she had lain in bed in the early hours, plagued by her usual fears and worries, she had wondered if she would ever sleep properly again. She had stopped taking the sleeping pills because she couldn’t handle the nightmares; and insomnia had become such a part of her life now that she could barely remember a time when it was normal to get a good night’s sleep. In the morning she had studied her tired, wrinkled face in the mirror and thought, I look like I’ve aged five years in the last five weeks. Yet despite the fact that she was running on empty during the day she still found herself feeling energised by this new, proactive version of herself, one who was starting to run her own family again and make decisions.

  As Kate busied herself making drinks in the kitchen the children milled around her, not sure what to do with themselves. ‘Go and see your granny,’ she told them. They looked doubtful. ‘She’s brought presents.’

  That did it, they were in the living room before she’d even boiled the kettle. As she made tea she could hear their quiet little ‘thank yous’ as Karen passed them gifts, followed by shrieks of delight as they opened them, their shyness forgotten. By the time she arrived in the room carrying mugs of tea and a packet of biscuits under her arm the children were climbing all over Karen, despite Lily’s broken leg.

  ‘Oh gosh I’m sorry, Karen. Girls get off her!’

  ‘Oh it’s no bother,’ Karen said, laughing with delight. ‘No bother at all.’

  Karen was amazing with the girls. She got down on the floor with them, playing with them, asking them questions about school and films they liked watching. She seemed to be enjoying the games just as much as the girls. Lily and Maggie loved Kate’s parents, Nana and Gramps, but they weren’t very hands-on with them like Karen was. It was like they’d forgotten how to be around children. Kate watched Karen and thought, Why did Pete keep her away from us for so long?

  After Lily and Maggie got bored of adult company and retreated to their bedrooms to play with their new toys, Kate found herself alone with Karen and the nerves returned. But her mother-in-law simply took her by the hand, looked at her with concern, and asked: ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine, I’m fine,’ Kate immediately replied, her stock response to anyone who asked except Erin.

  ‘I’ve been there, remember. I know what it’s like being on your own with two young children, wondering if you’ll ever see their father again. I know it’s a lot. You’re angry, you’re frightened, you’re angry all over again. I get it.’

  ‘I’m so angry!’ Kate blurted out. ‘I’m sorry, Karen, I know he’s your son but I’m so bloody angry! And I’m terrified. And I’m worried. And I’m wondering how much longer I can hold it all together. I feel like the seams could burst at any given minute and to be honest I have no idea how they haven’t already.’

  Karen nodded. ‘I understand,’ she repeated.

  ‘And sometimes I have moments where I think it’s all going to be okay. And for a few minutes, I feel fine, optimistic even. I have moments where I actually think this whole disaster has made me stronger and more capable. But then it all comes flooding back and I think that I’ll never be okay again.’

  ‘But you will. You will be okay, Kate.’ Karen clutched Kate’s hand tighter. ‘When Pete’s dad left me I was livid, with myself as much as him. I knew he was no good but I fell madly in love with him anyway, let him get me pregnant even though I was only nineteen. And I blamed Pete. It’s painful to admit that, Kate, I’m not proud of it at all but I was young, stupid and heartbroken. I thought, If only he wasn’t so difficult, so hard to live with – always demanding things, having tantrums, not giving us a minute’s peace. That’s what drove Ian away, not me. If only I hadn’t had a baby, none of this would have happened.’

  Karen paused for a minute to wipe her eyes and compose herself. ‘I was angry with Pete for a long time which is something I’ll regret for my whole life. Of course it wasn’t his fault, his dad was a total waste of space who only thought about himself. Ian left a few months after Pete’s brother came along. My family had given up on me ages ago, and I was so overwhelmed with having two young children I just didn’t have anything left to give to anyone. I don’t blame Pete for walking out as soon as he was old enough and not wanting to have anything to do with me. I drove him away.’

  It all made sense now, Kate realised. Pete’s animosity towards his mum, his reluctance to have her in their lives. His memory of his mother was of a cold, unloving woman who made him feel responsible for his father abandoning them. She suddenly felt acutely sorry for Pete and wished she could tell him that she understood. The pain of realising that she couldn’t hit her like a fresh blow.

  ‘It’s not lost on me that Pete has done the exact same thing to you,’ Karen said. ‘And I can’t help blaming myself. If I’d been a better mother…’

  ‘Stop,’ Kate interrupted her. ‘I understand now why Pete felt the way that he did about you but I don’t blame you. Jesus, Karen, I was over ten years older than you when I had Lily and I was in a happy, secure marria
ge but I still felt completely out of my depth. There were times when I was angry at everyone – angry at Lily for being so demanding, angry at Pete for not understanding how hard it was for me, but mainly angry at myself for not being able to cope with it. You were on your own, without any support. I get it.’

  The two women looked at each other, bonded in their shared knowledge of their mistakes.

  ‘You’re nothing like I thought you’d be,’ Karen said, blowing her nose.

  ‘Oh no?’ Kate asked, curious.

  ‘I guess because Pete told me that you didn’t want to have anything to do with me, I built up a picture of you in my mind. But you’re lovely, Kate, and so are your children. They are such beautiful, happy little girls. You’ve done a great job, you really have.’

  Kate felt the rush of maternal pride at being complimented about her children. Yet taking praise from Pete’s mum made her feel awful. The tears that she’d managed to keep down until now spilled over. ‘I’m sorry, Karen, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be sorry, darling, don’t be sorry, you’ve nothing to be sorry about.’

  ‘I just feel so guilty. It’s my fault, it’s all my fault.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  This was the moment, the moment when she should have let it all out, all the insecurities that had been running around her mind for the last five weeks. She had been craving the release, the opportunity to finally be rid of it from her conscience. It was her fault Pete wasn’t here. She’d been pretending that she was fine but she wasn’t. She hadn’t been for years. She’d been floating around like one of those dementors in the Harry Potter books – barely alive, sucking the joy out of anyone who came near her, lost in her own misery. Depressed, that’s what she was, and she had been for years but she’d been too proud to get any help. She had driven him to this and she had ended any hope they had of a future together. But just as she was about to start talking, her self-preservation kicked in. The dark thoughts were for her only, no one needed to hear them, least of all Pete’s own mother.