‘Infuriating? I’ve hardly spoken a word!’
‘You don’t have to. You just . . . exist.’
‘Yeah? Yeah . . . well, you got old as fuck.’
There was a moment’s silence before we both started to laugh. The tension was officially broken and Lucy was right. It was like he’s never been away.
Wednesday April 25th
I took Molly to the park after nursery this afternoon and tried to clear my head a little while she played with a couple of her friends. I feel quite unsettled now that Frank has returned, and not because I’ve been pining for him or that I want to sleep with him again, more because it brings back memories of a time when I was still fucked up over Alex. Where my future was bleaker than it is now, but also where I was free to do whatever I wanted. No one relied on me. No one expected anything from me. I don’t feel comfortable living in the past but seeing Frank again has dragged me back there.
Thursday April 27th
Oliver was chirpy enough as we walked into Pam’s office, making me think that his ‘confessions’ weren’t going to be half as bad as mine. This time, I took the tea she always offered and sat down in my usual spot.
‘So, Oliver, why don’t you begin?’ she requested, handing me a cup with a badly-drawn pineapple on it. ‘My niece.’ Pam winked. ‘She made it at nursery. It’s utter crap but I still adore it.’
Oliver uncrossed his legs and sat forward.
‘OK . . . sometimes I wish Phoebe would take Molly away for a few days, just to give me some space.’ He rubbed his forehead and turned to face me. ‘I know it makes me sound like a shit and I love you both but . . . why are you smiling?’
‘Because I was going to say the same thing! I totally get it!’
The relief on his face was priceless. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so awful after all.
As usual, Pam sat facing us, smiling. ‘Well, that one was easy. Phoebe, would you like to go next?’
I took a deep breath. ‘I have a new client at work. And it turns out that I slept with him years ago and I didn’t know whether to tell you or not.’
Oliver laughed. ‘Really? Who?!’
‘Do you remember the guy who lived with his parents and I smashed one of their plates and he lost the plot?’
‘Yes! Oh that’s fuck— sorry – fecking brilliant. Does he remember you?’
‘Unfortunately, yes.’
Oliver continued to giggle at my misfortune. I’d forgotten that he knew all about this. I’m so stupid. He found it funny at the time, makes sense that he would now. Pam, however, didn’t look so convinced. She narrowed her eyes.
‘So you have no problem with Phoebe working with someone she’s been intimate with?’
Oliver shook his head. ‘No. I mean, this happened years ago. It would be different if it was someone she had to see every day, or work closely with.’
My heart fell into my stomach.
‘Like Frank?’ I enquired.
‘Exactly,’ Oliver continued. ‘He was the type of guy you had to watch. Manipulative wanker. Not some idiot who still lived with his parents. Did Phoebe mention Frank?’
‘I’m aware of the association,’ Pam replied with a slight smirk. ‘I think we agreed it wasn’t the healthiest relationship to—’
‘He started back in the office on Monday.’
Both Pam and Oliver stopped smiling at the same time. ‘Frank is back?’ Pam asked. Oliver just stared.
‘I had no idea he was coming back!’ I protested. ‘I mean, I knew we were getting a new manager but I had no idea it was him.’
Oliver sat back on the couch. ‘So why didn’t you tell me on Monday?’
‘Because of this!’ I gestured at both him and Pam. ‘Look at your faces! Seriously, you cannot be jealous of him. He’s like fifty now. I never felt anything for him, you know that.’
‘I was jealous of him then, why would you think I wouldn’t be jealous now?’
‘Why were you jealous, Oliver?’ Pam enquired.
‘Because she sometimes chose to spend time with him over me. It was when I was beginning to develop feelings for Phoebe and she was being intimate with some handsome, rich prick who didn’t deserve her. There’s history there now. How can I possibly be OK with this?’
Oh God, this was going horribly wrong. Pam decided to step in. ‘Oliver, do you trust Phoebe?’
‘Of course I do, it’s just . . . I know how these things can escalate. How you don’t plan on them happening but . . .’ His words tailed off.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked.
‘He’s referring to a mutual friend of ours who discovered her husband has been having an affair with someone he works with,’ I interjected. ‘Which is completely different from me working with Frank.’
‘Is that correct, Oliver?’ Pam was looking at his face intently.
‘No,’ he admitted. ‘This has nothing to do with Sarah or her husband.’
‘Then what do you . . .’
The look on his face answered my question. My heart gave one heavy, painful beat and then went numb. Completely numb.
‘Who?’ I asked calmly. ‘Who was it?’
It took Pam a second to understand, too. She then closed her notebook.
‘Look, nothing happened, really. It’s not as bad as—’
‘WHO WAS IT?’
‘A temp. Bethany. She worked with us about a year ago. I didn’t sleep with her, you need to know that.’
‘Did you kiss her?’
‘Yes. Once.’
I felt like I was going to throw up. ‘I think you should leave.’
‘I’m not going to do that. We need to talk.’
‘I agree you both should keep talking, but perhaps give Phoebe a few minutes,’ Pam suggested. ‘If you wait outside, I’ll call you back in shortly.’
This he agreed to, leaving quietly.
‘God, I’m such an idiot!’ I proclaimed, throwing my hands in the air. ‘I should have seen this coming. Why the hell did I think that Oliver would be any different to any other man? Why did I believe that he was the exception?’
‘Do you believe it was just a kiss?’ she asked.
‘Does it really matter?’ I replied. ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s really not my place to say,’ she said, rubbing her hands together, ‘however, I don’t see any reason not to believe him.’
‘What about the fact he’s kept it hidden for a year?’
‘True. But you’ve also kept secrets. Tell me, if you had kissed Frank or the other man you mentioned, would you have told Oliver? Before you answer, think about it. Would you have told him, inevitably hurting him to clear your conscience? Not many people would say yes. I’m not excusing his actions, I’m simply presenting a reason why he may have chosen not to tell you. I see this a lot.’
I wanted to get out of there but I knew if I left while I was this angry, one of us might not make it home. ‘Whatever,’ I replied. ‘Just let him back in.’
Oliver, along with his now white-as-a-sheet face, returned to the couch.
‘I’m really hurt,’ I said, tucking my hair behind my ears. ‘And angry. If I were you, I’d start explaining myself, pronto.’
He recounted how Bethany had been recruited to cover maternity leave for Sara and how they’d worked really well together. I listened as he described how she’d made the long hours he had to work bearable and how she made him feel important at a time when he felt inadequate and useless as a father and a partner. How they’d opened a bottle of wine at work and how she’d kissed him and he kissed her back. And I watched as he cried when he told me how sorry he was.
I didn’t know what to say. I looked at Pam, who for once wasn’t smiling. ‘There are obviously trust issues here now,’ she stated. ‘But issues that can be overcome if you’re willing to put the work in. You may need some time to think things—’
‘We’ll see you next week,’ I replied, my tone cold, almost robotic. I was still numb. Oliver just nodded.
The car journey home was expectedly silent. Oliver understood that saying anything, or pushing his luck in any way, might result in me losing my shit. I just stared straight ahead, the reality hitting me slowly the closer we got to home. By the time he parked, I’d be unsuccessful in holding back my tears. The hurt and disappointment was palpable. All I could think was: why the fuck couldn’t he have been the exception?
Saturday April 29th
Oliver took Molly out today so I could have Lucy and Hazel over for lunch. He’s been quiet since our meeting with Pam last week but then again, so have I.
They arrived with the salad and wine I’d asked them to bring, while I’d thrown a pizza in the oven; it was ready by the time they turned up.
As we sat around the table, I began to tell them the events of last week, doing my best not to cry into the lovely Caesar salad Hazel had prepared. She was the first to react.
‘He did what?! When?’
‘About a year ago.’
‘Was it an actual affair? I don’t understand.’
I picked out the croutons with my fingers. ‘No. He said it was just a kiss. She kissed him but he kissed her back. I’m pretty fucking gutted.’
‘You must be.’ Hazel took my hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘I’m surprised, to be honest. I never thought Oliver would be so . . .’
‘Predictable? Disappointing? Stupid? Arseholey?’
She nodded. ‘All of those. I’d cut Kevin’s balls off if he did that. I can’t believe he kept it hidden for so long.’
‘Oh, I can,’ Lucy interjected. ‘Sometimes you’re just not ready to deal with someone’s reaction to a certain situation, so you keep it hidden. Sometimes for years. Isn’t that right, Phoebe?’
‘What? How would I know?’
She grinned broadly. ‘We all make mistakes. Sometimes these mistakes even involve people we work with . . . right?’
Oh God. She knows about Frank.
I sighed. ‘Who told you?’
She laughed. ‘No one told me. I knew while it was going on! Sometimes you smelled of his aftershave. And the way I caught him looking at you . . .’
Hazel motioned for us to stop. ‘What the fuck am I missing here?’
‘Phoebe was shagging our boss Frank for ages. She kept it hidden from people who love her more than Oliver and we’re not holding it against her.’
Hazel screeched with laughter. ‘It’s completely different!’ I protested. ‘Stop laughing!’
‘I know it is,’ Lucy replied. ‘All I’m saying is that I understand why he wasn’t ready to share. Yes, he did a cunty thing but we all do. He didn’t stick his dick in anyone. He didn’t fall in love with anyone. He allowed some woman to massage his ego for a while. You need to let him make it up to you.’
Hazel nodded. ‘Oh, and then cut his dick off.’
I pulled them both in for a hug. I have no idea why I pay Pam Potter when I have these wise women for free.
May
Tuesday May 2nd
I woke at 6 a.m. and watched Oliver sleeping for a while, thinking, ‘This is the man I love. This is the man I want to grow old with. This man needs to wake the fuck up and answer some questions.’ I shook him awake, telling him I needed to talk and surprisingly he didn’t protest too much.
‘I need you to answer some questions. And I need you to be honest.’
He perched himself up in bed, rubbing his eyes. ‘OK . . . shoot.’
‘What made you stop at kissing?’
‘Guilt,’ he answered. ‘I felt like a massive prick, the second it happened.’
‘Did you ever plan to tell me?’
He shrugged. ‘I honestly don’t know. The thought that my stupid actions could ruin all of this . . . it makes me feel sick.’
‘How can I be sure this won’t happen again? What if you meet someone that—’
‘You don’t think I’m scared that you will?! Especially after this. I’m terrified that you’ll meet someone who doesn’t come with all my bullshit and decide it’s a better deal for you and Molly.’
‘You’re Molly’s dad,’ I replied. ‘And you’re my heart. How could there possibly be a better deal?’
‘I’m so sorry, Phoebe. You have no fucking idea, just how much.’
We held each other for what seemed like ages. ‘I’ll make this up to you,’ he said, kissing my head. ‘I promise.’
‘Damn right, you will. I want the grandest of gestures, fuckface.’
We cuddled until the alarm went off at 7 a.m. and Molly bounded into the room. Maybe some women would have dealt with this differently, but I dealt with it in the only way I knew how; forgive with my head and hope my heart follows.
Thursday May 4th
I looked out for Lord Wilson this morning but there was no sign of her. Ruby was dropped off by an elderly woman I can only assume was Granny. I hope she’s not slumped in her kitchen underneath a pile of Bordeaux bottles.
Frank was settling back into his role with ease, pacing around the office like a prison guard while we tried our best to ignore him.
‘Phoebe, that bar advert you ran last month – are they doing anything else with us? They paid a decent rate.’
I placed my hand over the mouthpiece on my phone, asking Helen from the council to hang on a second.
What I really wanted to say was: He’s messing with me, Frank, because I made the mistake of sleeping with him years ago. Now I’m stuck having to deal with yet another prick who’s decided to reappear in my life. Like you.
‘I’m due to see him,’ I replied, wondering why the fuck he couldn’t wait until I’d finished my call. ‘He cancelled on me last time – I’ll chase him up.’
Frank continued pacing while I scowled behind his back and got back to my conversation. I glanced over at Lucy, who was smirking. She’s never going to let me forget that she knows.
Oliver had already picked Molly up from Maggie’s, who apparently laughed too hard at one of his jokes and embarrassed them both. He’s not advertising the fact that he’s trying to make things up to me but I can tell; little things like flowers randomly appearing in the living room, my favourite overpriced biscuits showing up in the cupboard, or his dirty clothes making their way to the washing machine . . . maybe not the grand gesture I demanded, but it’s a good start.
Friday May 5th
Oliver took the afternoon off today but we kept Molly’s afternoon session with Maggie so we could go and see Pam. I swear, this woman must be making a fortune from idiots like us.
Dressed in a tartan skirt and pink heels, she welcomed us into a room that today smelled like coconuts. I wondered whether she’s started early on the Malibu.
We both refused tea, but Oliver accepted water, nervously sipping as we began.
‘How are you feeling, Phoebe?’ she asked, settling into her chair.
‘Well . . .’ I said, ‘the last week has been tough but we’ve talked and I don’t see why we can’t move past this.’
She nodded as I heard Oliver give a quick sigh of relief. ‘Fine,’ she continued. ‘And Oliver? How have you been?’
‘Ashamed,’ he replied, rubbing his forehead. ‘And sorry. Just really, really sorry.’
She didn’t allow him to dwell on it too much, but explained our next steps.
‘The best way forward is for you to acknowledge what’s happened and for Phoebe to know that you are still very much focused on the relationship. And in turn, Phoebe, it’s important that Oliver recognises and understands that he hurt you but also that he knows you’re not going to let this define the rest of your relationship.’
Bloody hell, she might have been on the Malibu, but Pam was in sensible mode here. Nothing quirky, nothing odd. She might have well been wearing a suit and renting a proper office.
‘I know we’ve already covered music in our sessions, so I won’t ask you to compile another list, but each of you take a moment, right now, and choose a song; let’s call it a goal song. The song that defines how you feel
about love. A song you’d play your partner to show each other you’re deeply committed. Besotted, even. Close your eyes and take a deep breath.’
Oh. There she is. HI, PAM.
Oliver couldn’t help but glance in my direction, no doubt trying not to pick something stupid that would make his disdain for this process obvious. I just closed my eyes, hoping my brain would not instantly be filled with inappropriate songs. It was. First up was ‘The Sound of Silence’, followed by ‘Down Under’, ‘Killing in the Name’ and then ‘Don’t Fear the Reaper’. My eyes shot open and rolled at myself before I took a deep breath and tried again. Jesus, the pressure. People put less thought into their funeral music.
*
Finally Pam gave a little cough to bring us both back to reality.
‘Ready?’
Opening one eye, I peered at Oliver. ‘Yeah. I think so,’ he answered meekly.
‘Phoebe?’
‘“Sweet Disposition”,’ I blurted out. ‘I choose “Sweet Disposition”.’
A smile crept over Oliver’s face. I sing this song loudly in the car . . . and in the shower and well, basically at every opportunity. Last week he joked that The Temper Trap wouldn’t have written it if they’d known the damage I’d do to it with my voice.
‘And why is this?’ Pam questioned.
‘Because it has an urgency to it,’ I gushed. ‘It’s about someone else making you feel completely alive. To me, that’s romantic as hell.’
Pam nodded and wrote something on her little pad. ‘Oliver, what did you choose?’
‘“Danger! High Voltage”,’ he replied promptly.
My head spun around to look at him. Was he serious?
‘Why?’ Pam and I said in unison.
‘I dunno, it’s the little things,’ he replied. ‘It’s hard to explain. It could be a look, or the way she puts on her lipstick or when she makes me laugh – like really hard. I just lose it. She gets me so fired up, it’s unreal.’
His song started playing in my head, suddenly taking on a whole new meaning, so I kissed him. I kissed him like Pam wasn’t watching.
Did Bethany kiss him like this? Did she get him fired up?Did he get hard?I stopped and pulled away, cursing the omnipresent voice of fucking doom in my head. ‘Are you alright?’ he asked.
Relight my Fire Page 12