‘Damn, I didn’t think of that.’
‘So, I don’t need a hat.’
‘Not yet.’
I consider whether I should say what’s popped into my head. Dan wouldn’t be happy, but the wine has loosened my bonds. She is my closest friend.
I whisper to her. ‘Don’t tell Dan, but I’ve a worse story. One morning, after he’d gone to work, Charlie called me and said there was something in the toilet. It looked like a doll or toy wrapped in tissue? Before I could stop him, he pressed the flusher. The paper and water vanished in an instant, leaving the biggest turd I’ve ever seen in my life, lying there, like a crocodile on a bank. It was incredible and not possible it came from a human. Charlie’s expression was amusing. His woeful face crumpled. With shock he said, “Daddy did that”.’
‘My God. Men are so disgusting. What are they like? Did you have to squash it?’
‘It was huge. I was scared to touch it. I thought I might get bitten, or dragged in. After a long think, I popped to the kitchen and fetched a pair of scissors.’
This time we spray each other with wine.
‘My lord. It’s not surprising you don’t have sex anymore.’
‘I know! Where’s the mystery?’
Once we calmed ourselves, I tried to explain.
‘He’s a good person. I brought him to this steel prison, as he calls it. Made him conform. He needs to get used to the idea, that’s all. I still have butterflies when I look at him, like on that bus.’
I didn’t discuss my inner fears back then with anyone. Not the ones that woke me at four o’clock in the morning, forcing me to take deep breaths. Even with Rachel. Each day was the same. I had money, holidays and no one. I loved him straight away. He was bright, flawed, crazy, and a free spirit. I see how this place is overwhelming him. I wonder if we hadn’t had children together, might we have gone our separate ways?
Rachel drags me back to the present.
‘I know. I remember meeting him as though it was yesterday. It was awful. He weaved his way over and asked your name. You told him, and he replied, “Well, I can be Popeye then”. What the hell? I’m staring at a dimwit and preparing to tell him to feck off. When I glance over, you have a face like Cinderella’s when the shoe fit.’
‘It was loud in there. He thought I said Olive.’
‘Yeah, whatever. I bet the slippery sod had a list of lines for any eventuality. How random are those events though? To find someone on a bus all those miles away, have kids, and then learn to hate each other. It’s perfect.’
She smiles, but I can tell she’s about to be serious.
‘You don’t have to be with each other you know, just because you have children together.’
‘We just need some breathing space.’
‘Look, I’m moving to California for good. We’ve only got six months to transfer our side of the business over, and there’s so much work to be done. We want you there, Olivia. In the meanwhile, I’ll fly backwards and forwards a lot as I need to sell my house, and I’ll babysit whenever you want for as long as I can when I’m here. Take Popeye bowling or something.’
‘That’s brilliant. Thank you. We only have my parents nearby now for that. They will childmind but they’re approaching eighty and my dad’s a total liability. The last time we visited I found ant powder in the four corners of the play room and Grace came in saying, “What’s this?”, while carrying a loaded mouse trap. My mum has her moments too. She’d been cleaning knives at the kitchen table and left them there to go to church. I managed to stop Chucky dissecting their cat. They don’t see the dangers.’
‘Chucky?’
‘Bloody hell. Dan has me doing it now. I mean Charlie.’
‘Come here to me, you can’t stay together for twenty years if you’re not happy.’
‘I’m not sure you understand how it is for couples when they have children. Breaking up damages their lives. You’d do anything to protect them.’
Her face falls and it’s too late to take the words back. I think she wanted babies more than I did. Her next question is barbed.
‘You aren’t still getting married?’
I don’t answer straight away even though it’s what I want. I’d love to have the same surname as Grace and Charlie. For Dan and I to commit to each other. I wish he’d be more enthusiastic about it though. I’m so sick of people saying, “I talked to your husband,” or, “where’s your husband?” that I’ve given up correcting them. But are they the right reasons to get married? Rachel waits for my response.
‘Dan sent flowers to the office for me. The note only said “Surprise”, and I really was, but I’ve been so busy, I forgot to say thank you. Modern life with children is hard work. We’ll get there.’
‘So, you are going to get married?’
‘Definitely. We just need to find the time.’
Chapter 11
Dan
The next day
I’m woken by the sound of ripping cardboard. Only one of my eyes opens straight away, the other peels like separating Velcro. Within the blurry landscape, I see Bailey with a burger in his drooling mouth. My salivary glands appear to be broken.
My arm is stuck under my body and even when I sit up, it feels like a prosthetic. I try to grab the fast food as it will give the dog the violent runs. He’s not happy at that idea and races to the kitchen. I have to bribe him with bad language and a digestive biscuit to get him to release it.
All the lights are on, so I stagger back to the lounge, grab the container and hide it outside in the bin. It’s always best to dispose of the evidence. Olivia has said nothing about my weight gain, but the truth stares her in the face and me in the mirror.
I’m limping on with the work shirts, but every now and again, a button flies off in the same way a clipped toenail does. Once it happened at a bus stop as I yawned. It hit the Perspex roof like a bullet and the guy next to me dropped to the floor. Unfortunately for him, the bus arrived and everyone got on and left him. It’s another reason to hate this place. I was sitting by the window, staring at him as he tried to compose himself. He peered at me through tears and pulled himself off the damp pavement. Everything good in me brought me to my feet to dismount and help him, but when I looked up, the bus was full. I left with the rest and stared the other way.
Sneaking back into the lounge, I tidy up at high speed so it doesn’t resemble an epileptic manatee’s love shack. I bump into Olivia as she descends the stairs carrying the container I’d just placed in the bin, and I give her a puzzled glance.
‘That’s the look I had on my face. I didn’t fancy a burger at midnight. Thanks for waking me up though to check.’
I rummage around in my mind for recollection and remember buying three burgers. One for her, one for me, one for the walk home.
‘At least I slept on the sofa.’
She reckons after drinking I thrash my legs in the bed, kick her and swear in my sleep. I try not to think why.
With a nod, she reluctantly agrees. ‘Yes, I should be thankful for that.’
She gives me a look of pity as I flop back on a chair. The kids barrel into the room. Grace mastered the remote control quicker than Olivia, who still treats it like a magic wand. One that she doesn’t have the instructions for. As per usual a horrifying sense of déjà vu comes over me as the jaunty theme music of soul-crushing, repeated cartoons begin. Charlie pulls all the toys from every shelf and box.
‘You need to get a move on, or you’ll be late for work.’
Oh no. What was I thinking? Now I recall saying to myself ‘three drinks maximum’. The thought of eight hours at my desk with a hangover is the equivalent of ten years in Turkey’s grimmest jail. I can’t handle it. My core body temperature rises in panic and I scrabble for an escape route.
‘I’m not going. I feel … ill.’
She’s heard it all before. She knows it’s not illness, only me being lame.
‘Fair enough.’
Olivia hasn’t said tha
t in the past. She usually chides me to leave. Gives me the same rubbish your mother used to say when you tried to miss school. Gems such as, “Go in for the morning,” or, “Get dressed and have breakfast and we’ll see.” This time, her face is blank, and she leaves the room. A train crammed with worry trundles towards the platform. I trail after her.
‘You don’t mind?’
‘Look, Dan. I know your job sucks and I also understand it’s unlikely you can get a new one with the same family-friendly hours. But we need the money unless I go back full-time. I thought you didn’t want that. He offered again last week.’
The horror of being a stay-at-home father looms large before me. Now it’s an intercity train, brakes failed, driver screaming, that comes into view.
‘I think what your boss would prefer is you moving in with him. I’m sure he could find a few chores in the bedroom for which you’re suitable.’
She ignores my taunt. ‘Actually, it is helpful if you don’t work today. I have tons to do. You can pitch in. There are three loads of washing, and you can start with brushing Grace and Charlie’s teeth. I’ll go into town this afternoon, so you do the playschool drop and the school run. Cook them a healthy dinner because they had chips last night. Two of Grace’s friends have birthdays next week, so pop on the Internet and buy something suitable.’
So many blows in quick succession. I reel from side-to-side. The kids demand fried eggs. Judging by the smell in the kitchen, something unpleasant has occurred. It could be Charlie. He does his wees in the toilet, but still thinks big jobs belong in his pants. I remember Olivia saying potty training Grace was the most stressful period for her. I missed that as it was before they changed my hours, and with hindsight, I’m glad I was out of it because it’s proving a trying time.
‘The dishwasher is playing up, too.’
‘Am I a plumber?’
She dodges the weak parry from a beaten opponent. She impales me with her final strike.
‘Am I? Use Trust-a-trader.com. Get rid of that box of Star Wars toys in our bedroom as well. They’ve been there years. If I see them again, I will move them myself. Forever.’
It’s terrible. I know I’m being played, but I’m not bright enough to counter-attack. My brain folds in on itself. Minimal sleep, dehydration, and a general lack of understanding of the rules give her a flawless victory.
‘Maybe I’ll go in after all.’
Chapter 12
Olivia
I resist the urge to tell him to stop swearing as he searches for the things he needs for work that he carelessly discarded yesterday. It’s not a good time to inform him of our plans for the weekend, but if I want that to register he’ll need advising at least three times.
‘My mum wants everyone to go to church on Sunday.’
He recoils in fake shock, like Dracula stepping into the light.
‘No way. After my sinful existence, going into that place is climbing into the crosshairs of God’s sniper rifle.’
He still makes me laugh. He rolls his eyes and knows what Grandma wants, Grandma gets. My mother always frightens my boyfriends. It’s one of my favourite things about her. I admire her no-nonsense regard to relationships. My poor father would never have stood a chance.
At the moment, I only work three days a week. The time that Dan moans about with the kids is the time I love. Watching their little interactions in the bath, or reading them stories is all I hoped it would be. To me, that’s what being a parent is. Sure, it’s hard at times, and I’m often tired, but nothing worthwhile is easy.
I worry that if we split up, he’d leave the country and go travelling again. I want my family to have a father. Maybe we need to separate though, so he can realise what he’s missing. Before I had children, I used to be great at finding solutions. Now there are long searches for compromises.
I’m not sure if his head is wet from the shower as he leaves for work, or it’s beer sweat. I get a waft of aftershave and smile, knowing he will be paranoid about smelling like a brewery. He doesn’t kiss me or the kids and leaves the front door wide open. Although, at the gate, he stops and turns around, remembering only an arsehole would not lock the door. He sees me grinning and gives me a double thumbs-up. The smile he gives me is better than a kiss. It tells our story.
Nevertheless, it may be coming to an end. Over the last few months, it would have been easier if he didn’t live here. Dan never takes the kids out to give me a break, and he creates as much mess as they do. He spends hours trawling the internet, looking at strange sites. I’m forever cleaning up after he’s shaved or even made a sandwich. I can tell everything he ate that day, because the evidence will still be on the work surfaces or, if I’m lucky, thrown in the sink.
I thought those stories where women stay married for years because they don’t want to upset the children was madness when I was younger. Now I have my own, I understand. At least he isn’t negligent with the kids. I think any evidence of that would be the end of the road.
He needs to buck his ideas up though. Cut back on the drinking, and get exercising. He’d better remember what I said as we are playing my boss and his girlfriend at badminton soon.
Grace and Charlie amaze me by brushing their own teeth, going to the toilet when prompted and not complaining when the TV is turned off. I’m gobsmacked when they get into our car for the school run without a word. We got a great deal on the car which meant we could have a nice holiday that year.
I check Grace’s seatbelt as she now insists on doing it herself, and notice Mike, the neighbour, leaving his house for work. I reach over and click in Charlie’s seatbelt. Mike’s charming voice is heard.
‘Morning, fantastic day.’
I have a short denim skirt on and realise that leaning into the car will have given him a reasonably good chance of a glimpse of my underwear. I decide I don’t care and pause for a second longer in the hope I’ll turn around and see him beaming. I’m not disappointed.
‘Yes, it is. How are you? The kids are behaving, but the dishwasher’s playing up.’
He removes his sunglasses and frowns in concern.
‘That’s too bad. Dan gonna fix it?’
‘Unlikely, he’s not great with his hands.’
That statement gets my second big smile of the day. The roof is down on his car and he takes his jacket off and leaves it on the back seat. Despite being under pressure from strong shoulders, his shirt has the full complement of buttons.
‘No problem. I’m away for two days, then I’ll come over after work, say around seven. I’m great at that sort of thing.’
He winks as he leaves. My tummy turns over in an unfaithful way. I remember a time when Dan looked at me like that, and I’d have to fight his roaming hands from under my skirt.
‘Mummy, Charlie has done a poo.’
Chapter 13
Dan
I had to queue to enter the railway station this morning, never mind to get on the platform. I then waited for four trains to go through before I shoved myself onboard. It’s not a warm day, but the carriage is a cauldron. Tempers bubble beneath the surface and eyes tighten. I’m an animal on a big lorry. Wedged in, having a poor time, and on the way to the slaughterhouse.
There are too many people, and they’re too close. I want to take my suit jacket off, but my shirt is sodden with sweat and I know it will be see-through. At the next stop, more harried commuters try to get on, but we’re already rammed. Sliding doors silence angry words and scared cries. Hot breath and pointed elbows rock me as we swing through the tunnels. My heart races, and my chest heaves.
A slim girl next to me tries to move away as I pant damp air onto her. The motion knocks her off balance and we meet like lovers. I stare at the ceiling so as not to see the disgust in her face. The sweat on my hand makes the bar I cling to slippery. The girl has somehow gone. I look around and vivid faces with blurred surroundings buzz at me. It’s a roundabout, going too fast. I’m dying. My hands are useless. They have no strength. I lose my g
rip and collapse.
The doors open again and clean, chilly air pours into the carriage. I crawl through the legs, onto the platform, and curl up next to a bench. If anyone notices, they say nothing. A shriek as the doors shut grabs people’s attention. I know I can’t get on another train. I stand and struggle towards the exit and lurch into the daylight. There’s a stall selling water and my breathing slows.
I reel into the office, passing the security guard who gives me a disapproving glare. He’s anal about seeing my pass, even though I’ve worked here for five years. A crying man has his attention this morning. It’s one of the guys from IT who they laid off last week. To my relief, the lift is empty. I am late, after all. The stranger in the mirror looks sick. Heavy bags and furtive eyes avoid my stare.
I’m on a 10:00 a.m. until 6:00 p.m. shift, which means I’ll leave at seven at the earliest. I work noon until 8:00 p.m. shifts on alternate days and get out after nine on the late ones. They call it family-friendly hours.
That’s the term they use enabling you to do the dreaded school run. Of course, there are many arguments to be had before you exit the house — toothbrushing, hair, dressing, fighting. I could go on. Then, at the office, I’m shattered and have a full shift ahead of me. When I get home after the commute, it’s late and I go to bed, only to arise and start again at ten. It’s no surprise my mind is slipping.
The route to my desk is via my boss’s. Kenneth, or Ken as he prefers, isn’t a terrible guy, but he’s gullible and pervy. I’m unsure how he keeps his job when so many are losing theirs. Perhaps it’s his titanium optimism. Fresh problems are new challenges as opposed to further rungs on the eternal ladder. He annoys me.
‘Nice of you to pop in, Daniel.’
‘There was a problem with the trains.’
‘Yeah? Everyone else got in on time.’
I close my sore eyes and repeat in my head, ‘I won’t hit him today’. I’m not entirely sure of his motivation with calling me Daniel. There is another Dan in the department and maybe he’s too stupid to differentiate between me and a seven-foot-tall Jewish man. It always feels like a slight, though.
[2018] Abel's Revenge Page 4