by Ruth Jones
The French doors onto the little balcony were open, letting in the celebratory daylight of this glorious spring afternoon. The sounds from the high street, softened by distance as they wafted upwards, created a holiday atmos akin to lying on a busy beach. He put down the food on the little paint table and went and stood next to her.
‘That is truly mind-blowing.’
‘I know,’ she said.
He turned to her and smiled, finding her self-belief so refreshing and honest.
‘Saying “Well done” doesn’t really seem adequate!’ he said, and was taken by surprise as he noticed for the first time that her pink hair was really quite exotic. As were her vibrant green eyes.
She didn’t smile back. Just started undressing, never dropping her gaze from his, and announcing, ‘I want some sex with you.’
Unquestioning, Matt started taking his clothes off too and simply said, ‘Yes, that seems like a good idea.’
He didn’t open the shop again that afternoon.
78
Dear Bel
Do you think next time I come to Edinburgh to see Ailsa, that you and I could meet up?
Callum x
79
Dear Callum
No.
Belinda
80
Dervla had assured Matt life would only throw at him challenges which he could handle. And so whether it was the astonishingly life-affirming afternoon of sex with Chloe that did it, or whether he was just ready to jump the next hurdle in what Dervla called ‘the healing process’, he woke up that Sunday morning and decided that today was the day he was going to face Kate.
Sylvia usually collected Tallulah from Kate’s apartment at ten a.m. every Sunday morning and brought her back to Chiswick. Matt looked at his phone – it was half eight. He called his mother and told her of the change of plan. She instantly went into meltdown. ‘You can’t, love, it’s too soon.’
‘No it’s not. It’s fine.’
‘Then let me come with you, at least,’ she begged.
‘Mum, you’ve been really kind and I honestly don’t know how I’d have got through these past months without you, but today I’m collecting Tallulah myself and it’s going to be absolutely fine.’
He got in the shower, holding his face under the cleansing hot water, thought about Chloe and laughed out loud. It had been so deliciously messy, so unexpectedly erotic and fuckably delightful – paint getting everywhere, pots knocked over, palettes dropped, easels toppled; all positions covered – standing up, sitting down, on top, under up, sideways, longways, which ways, any ways … months and months without sex getting their comeuppance – for Matt, quite literally. And when they’d both finally exhausted themselves three hours later, they simply got dressed, sat on the floor and ate the lunch he’d bought earlier.
‘Thank you very much,’ Chloe said formally.
‘For the peach or the sex?’ he laughed.
‘For the peach and the sex and the ham,’ she said, not laughing back.
He hesitated, knowing he needed to nip this in the bud before it did any real harm.
‘Just so you know, Chloe,’ he said tentatively, ‘I really loved all that just now, but I don’t want to have any sort of relationship yet. I’m not, y’know, boyfriend material or anything.’
She looked at him, peach juice running down her chin. ‘I’ve got a boyfriend,’ she stated, without a trace of defensiveness. ‘I don’t need another one.’
‘Ah. OK!’ Matt replied, slightly thrown, and sank his teeth into a chunk of Greek bread smothered in hummus. He sat there smiling, and contemplated the fact that he was finally emerging from one of the most traumatic phases of his life, marked by the most lovely and uncomplicated afternoon of sex, which would never again be repeated.
He pressed the buzzer for Apartment 29, his heart racing, sweat popping out on his forehead. You can do this.
Suddenly, the beautiful voice of Tallulah came bursting out of the intercom. ‘Hello Nana, come on up!’
Matt had no time to explain that it was Daddy, not Nana, the loud buzz of the door urging him to open it. In the lift, he focused on Tallulah – on staying calm for her, on being polite to Kate – he wouldn’t have to stay long, just collect his little girl and go. But as the lift slowed down he wanted to go back – he’d changed his mind, this was a stupid idea. Then the lift door opened and all his fears evaporated the second he saw her – in all her five-year-old glory, his gorgeous Tallulah, waiting to meet and greet.
She was so delighted to see Daddy not Nana that she screamed, ‘DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!’ and leapt into his arms, clinging onto him like a baby koala. ‘Come and see my bedroom!’
The door to the apartment was only a couple of metres away, and had been left ajar. Holding his precious cargo for luck, he felt braver now as he ventured inside, ready to face Kate for the first time in nearly four months.
Except she wasn’t there.
Instead, looking equally surprised to see Matt, was Callum.
‘Oh,’ Matt said.
‘Hi,’ said Callum.
Thank God for Tallulah. ‘Can we go to the cinema today, Daddy? Panda wants to go.’
‘Yes darling, maybe. D’you want to go and get your stuff?’
And she wriggled out of his arms, dropped to the floor and ran off to her bedroom, leaving the two men in awkward silence for what felt like an age.
‘Kate’s not back yet. She’s had to get a new bag or something,’ – Callum paused – ‘for tonight.’
Matt nodded. Time was when he’d be in Callum’s place right now, getting ready to support Kate at an awards ceremony, congratulating her when she won, comforting her when she lost. He felt a twinge of jealousy and said, ‘Funny old things, award ceremonies.’
‘I wouldn’t really know.’
‘No.’
More awkwardness. Both men desperately hunting for something to say, desperately wanting to be somewhere else. Matt had never seen Callum so close up before – that time in the hotel room he’d barely been able to look at him. But now he noticed the lines around his eyes, the greying temples, the slight middle-age spread, and he genuinely wondered what Kate saw in him. He seemed quiet and kind, he supposed. But then wasn’t Matt both those things?
‘CALL-UM?’ Tallulah yelled from the bedroom. ‘WHERE ARE MY SHOES?’
Callum looked at Matt – the usurping father, usurping fatherly duties, knowing something about Matt’s daughter that Matt didn’t know himself: the whereabouts of her little shoes. Callum had no choice but to answer. ‘Have a look under the bed, sweetheart.’
A punch to the stomach for Matt. Sweetheart? Take my wife, and now my daughter.
‘Excuse me a minute,’ Callum said, glad to have a reason to leave Matt, who stood there, megalith still, hardly daring to look around the plushly carpeted home of his soon-to-be ex-wife and her lover. He noticed there was already a framed photo of the three of them – Kate, Callum and Tallulah – taken surely just a few weeks ago. Kate’s new family.
He could hear them talking in the bedroom, Callum and Tallulah, checking her bag, making sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, and Matt felt like he was standing outside of himself, watching his life trickle by.
Suddenly the front door opened and in she blustered.
Kate.
She didn’t see him straight away. ‘Sorry I was so long, babe, they had to call a different branch and I— Oh!’
‘Hello, Kate.’
It had been such a shock for Matt to see Callum that seeing Kate now felt like a walk in the park. What he hadn’t bargained for was the hug she launched into.
‘MATT! Oh my God, Matt!!’
He barely reciprocated the embrace, just about managing a gentle tap on her back. It felt so weird to be this close to her after not even seeing her for such a long time. She smelt different. A new perfume, perhaps? Or shampoo?
She looked at him. ‘Why didn’t you say you were coming? Oh, this is so lovely! I thought it’d be Sylvia!�
� She was getting tearful. ‘Come and sit down, let me get you a drink.’
‘No, we can’t stop. Tallulah’s just getting her things.’ He called out, ‘Lules? How you doing?’
‘COM-ING!’
Kate was staring at him, full of admiration. ‘You are looking so good! Have you been training?’
‘Yeah. Joined a running club.’
‘Well, it’s really paid off. You look amazing.’
He knew it was shallow and superficial, but fuck it – he couldn’t help but internally high-five himself right now. You think I look better than him, don’t you? All those weeks of training were worth it just for that single moment of glory.
Tallulah came running in with her little pink rucksack on her back, shoes on, coat done up, Panda firmly cuddled.
‘Right. Let’s go disco!’ Matt said.
It was just a subtle thing and she didn’t need to do it. But when Callum followed Tallulah into the hallway, Kate linked arms with him, as if to say defensively, I don’t care how good you look, this is my man now, I made the right choice. Matt forced himself not to let his eyes flicker down to their interlocked arms; he knew Callum felt awkward that she’d done it.
‘Good luck tonight, Kate.’
‘Will you watch it on telly?’
‘Maybe – might be a bit late for this little one,’ he said, smoothing Tallulah’s hair.
‘Oh, she can stay up for once. It’s a special occasion, after all.’
‘We’ll see.’ Matt smiled. He wasn’t about to have a row over parenting in front of Tallulah’s new stepfather figure.
And then from somewhere, a good place within him, Matt found the courage to hold out his hand to the man who’d stolen his wife. ‘All the best, Callum.’
Callum shook his hand back, and fleetingly there was a moment between them, an acknowledgement of something that couldn’t be articulated. All Matt knew when he closed the door behind him was that he was filled with an overwhelming sense of relief.
Not because this first dreaded encounter with Kate was now over.
But because Kate was no longer his responsibility.
81
‘Do I look any different, d’you think?’ Hetty was eating cheese and onion crisps and staring at her reflection, sat in front of her tiny dressing table, still in pyjamas despite it being almost midday. She ran her forefinger inquisitively along her cheeks and jawline, exploring their shape. ‘My face is wider, I know.’
Ivor had been watching Hetty from the toastiness of their tangled bed, taking in the sight of this glorious being with whom he’d fallen even deeper in love. He clambered out from under the sheets and stood unselfconsciously naked behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders as he, too, looked at her reflection. She had no idea how beautiful she was. And this he adored.
‘I could eat you,’ he whispered as he kissed her neck, simultaneously nibbling and inhaling the warmth of her skin. He moved his hands confidently down inside her T-shirt, cupping her gorgeous morning breasts, unencumbered now by underwear, and felt himself harden as her nipples pinged to attention at the touch of his thumbs. ‘Your tits are fucking fantastic.’
Hetty sighed with bliss and shut her eyes. She loved it when he talked dirty. It thrilled her that the private Ivor was so different from the public one, that this mild-mannered, unassuming work colleague who behaved like a lamb in the office was like a lion in bed.
She absolutely loved having sex with him. She was making up for her time in the wilderness, as she’d come to think of it – the barren, fallow land in the otherwise fertile continent of her life. How on earth had she survived for so long without it? More than that – because the sex was just a lovely bonus – how had she survived for so long without love? Without the reassurance of Ivor’s toned and silky-skinned arms wrapped adoringly around her, or the way he kissed the top of her head or held her hand when they went off on their weekend hikes, helping her up over tricky terrain, tucking her straying rain-soaked hair back behind her ears, laughing at the muddy state in which they often found themselves.
She’d just put up with it, that’s why. Conditioned herself, like an animal in captivity, acclimatizing to this absence, these self-imposed restrictions. And yes, they were self-imposed. Because it had been her choice to delude herself into thinking that Adam was the only man for her, and that if she couldn’t have him then no one else would do. What an idiot. And what a waste of time – all those years she and Ivor could’ve spent together, merrily fucking away the day, enjoying mornings like this, luxuriating in post-sex sleepiness, deeply content and at ease in each other’s company.
They’d become so familiar with one another’s bodies now, having had weeks of practice in getting to know every inch of delicious skin, every delightful bump and crevice and each adorable idiosyncrasy. Hetty had come alive since they’d met – of that there was no doubt. And so had Ivor. Two lost souls, previously flailing around in the darkness of their lonely lives, had finally found each other, touched and connected. They’d also laughed. A lot. And discovered they had more in common with each other than they could ever have imagined, discovering coincidence after coincidence, each one met with the joyful exclamation Me too! Neither needed anyone else any more; both had landed and settled.
‘We’re like a pair of Canada geese,’ Hetty declared. Not the most romantic of comparisons, Ivor thought, smiling. But actually, uncannily apt.
It was only when Hetty thought about Matt that she was slightly wrong-footed by guilt. Even though she knew he was over the moon that she’d found Ivor and was now stuck to him like pins on a magnet, she still felt she’d abandoned Matt for this beautiful new man in her life. And she no longer turned to Matt in the way that she’d once done – he’d been usurped, replaced. Because Ivor wasn’t just her lover, he was also her new best friend. It was how it was meant to be – she’d accepted that. And in all honesty, she’d realized there were things she could talk to Ivor about that she’d never dream of saying to Matt. But still she felt like she’d had to let him go.
‘Don’t be silly, Het,’ Ivor had comforted her. ‘He’s always going to be your friend.’
She smiled, nodding. ‘I’m going to see him tonight. I need to tell him.’
‘Best do it on your own, d’you think?’
‘Yeah,’ she said, turning round and pulling off her T-shirt. ‘Now how about a quickie before the farmers’ market?’
82
‘Beans or peas, Cory?’
‘Beans. Oh Mum, tell her!’ He was play-fighting with his sister in the living room.
Belinda was in the kitchen making Sunday supper, which was always fish fingers and mash with peas or beans. Funny, the little customs they’d developed as a family over the years. Hearing Cory and Ailsa messing around was strangely comforting. But she feared the time when they’d no longer be there for Sunday fish fingers and she’d be on her own. Not as she’d ever imagined, but still. Onwards. She had to look to the future now. The decree absolute had come through a week ago. She’d not told the kids yet – wanted to get used to the idea first.
The day it happened, Callum had emailed her, of course.
Dear Bel
So it’s official then.
No longer married.
I feel so fucking sad.
Callum x
She’d cried when she read it. She hated herself for crying, but then she thought, Nobody need ever know that I did. She didn’t reply. Not for five days. And when she did she simply said:
Callum
Why sad?
Life moves on.
Good luck.
B.
She’d wanted to write:
Why sad? You’re living in a luxury penthouse apartment in London with a rich, famous, beautiful younger woman who loves you so much she’s prepared to do anything to get you – including destroying the lives of at least six other people! You should be celebrating!
But she’d suddenly felt very tired of being angry. And she knew that if
she was to even begin getting over the loss of the only man she had ever truly loved, then she would have to begin to forgive him. And wish him well. For her own sake, she would have to do this.
She served out the food and shouted, ‘Come and get it!’
Cory and Ailsa bounded in, and Ben came down from upstairs. Ailsa loved having both her brothers home – Cory was back supposedly to revise, his finals looming, and Ben had been home over a month now. He claimed he was looking for a job, but Belinda sensed he was there to protect her, that somehow without his dad there any more she’d become some fragile, vulnerable woman in his eyes.
‘It’s very sweet of you, love, but I really can cope, you know. And I don’t want you turning into one of them stay-at-home kids, still livin’ here when you’re forty!’
He said he’d wait till the summer, then think about moving on. Belinda felt so blessed to have such loving children. She knew it would be breaking Callum’s heart that his boys wanted nothing to do with him. In time, she’d talk to them about trying to mend that broken bridge. But she wasn’t quite strong enough yet. And at least Ailsa was still in touch with him. Belinda never wanted to ask too many questions when Ailsa had seen her dad. She tried to do it subtly. It wasn’t so much out of envy or jealousy, her wanting to know how he lived his new life. She just wanted to know he was well. That ‘Hated Kate’, as the kids still called her, was taking proper care of him.
‘I’m going to Tom’s after this,’ Ailsa said.
‘Drop me off at Lenny’s?’ Cory asked her through a mouthful of beans.
‘OK.’
‘Make sure he wears a helmet!’ Belinda said.
‘Yeah, and don’t make her go fast, Cory,’ Ben added.
In all fairness, Ailsa had been so good with that moped, respecting the speed limit and taking her time. She knew her mother worried about her every time she went on it, and whenever she saw her dad he would grill her on her safety routines.