‘Ruth, where are you? She’s mad, I promise you. I had no idea she was coming to see you. It’s all bullshit, we haven’t been seeing each other. Ruth, I love you, I’m not going anywhere. Please call me so we can talk. We have to talk.’
At first Christian’s words were like a balm, like a hand rubbing her back so that her tears reduced themselves to a short catch of breath in her throat. She started to dial his number, but then began to wonder. He must have spoken to Sarah to know she had come to see her. Which meant that they were at the very least in contact. He had hidden all this from her, he had betrayed her simply by uttering one word to that girl again. So it couldn’t all be bullshit. They had been seeing each other, even if it wasn’t in the way she had imagined. And of course the physicality of anything was important for Christian, but it didn’t mean that much to her. It was the fact that he had been able to forget her for long enough to have a conversation with Sarah, to maybe meet her for a drink, to lie and lie and lie again. She heard his pompous voice shouting into her phone that he loved her and wasn’t leaving and she wanted to scratch his eyes out. It was not enough to say those words, to state what he was going to do as if she had no say or she’d be so grateful he hadn’t been fucking his secretary again she’d lie down and let him trample all over her for a second time. Now she knew what she wanted to say.
He picked up in one ring. ‘Ruth, where are you? I’ve been worried sick.’
‘I’m at home. You didn’t look too hard.’
‘I’m on my way back now.’
‘No. Betty will be home soon. I’ll meet you somewhere. How about St James’s Park? It’s right by your work.’
‘Okay, if you want to come over here.’
‘I don’t want to be anywhere near home. I don’t want to ever be reminded of the conversation we’re about to have.’
‘Ruth, nothing’s happened, she’s mad.’
‘Seriously, Christian, shut up. This isn’t up to you any more. I’ll be there as quick as I can.’
Aggie had been shocked when she’d heard Ruth’s voice from the hall. It had been a physical sensation, like someone had dropped a stone into her stomach, sending little rings of panic through her body. She hadn’t felt like that for a long time and it wasn’t nice. Hal had just started eating his lunch; fish fingers and carrots from the garden, even a spoonful of peas, which was a new taste she was road-testing. They were laughing at the fact that a green, round pea had the same name as what you did after you’d drunk too much. Then she’d heard Ruth calling her and for a second she’d wondered if she’d gone back to hearing things when they weren’t there, but no, Ruth called again. Aggie’s immediate reaction was to hide Hal’s plate in a cupboard but that would be too confusing for him and could put his eating right back. Should she go into the hall and shut the door behind her or would that make Ruth suspicious and Hal nervous? In the end she motioned to Hal to keep quiet and stuck her head round the door, like she was in the middle of something important. As soon as she saw Ruth though she realised she needn’t have worried as the woman was obviously ill; she was as pale as snow, her eyes were red and raw and her shoulders were hunched as though she was trying to fight off a deep pain. Do you need anything? Agatha had asked. But all Ruth had wanted was to be left alone. Don’t tell Betty I’m at home, she’d said, and don’t let Hal upstairs.
Agatha shut the kitchen door on her and gathered Hal onto her lap, helping him spoon his food into his mouth.
‘Mummy,’ he said, looking up at her.
She kissed the top of his head. ‘Yes, my love, that was Mummy. But she’s gone to lie down, she’s not feeling well.’
‘Mummy,’ said Hal again, burrowing his head into her neck.
You didn’t realise that breaking hearts existed outside of songs until you had children. Memories rushed at her of her own mother lying in her bed, the thick curtains drawn against the day, telling Agatha to keep the noise down, she had one of her heads. But I want to show you my picture from school. This must never happen to Hal. Agatha felt this like a round boulder in her stomach. He was too kind and trusting and tender, he would not be able to cope with all the disappointments and rejections.
‘Hal,’ said Agatha now, ‘what if you call me Mummy? Just as a joke and only when we’re alone. But we could pretend I’m your mummy and then you wouldn’t have to ever miss her again.’
‘Mummy,’ said Hal again, looking up at her and smiling. It was obviously what he’d meant all along. She smiled at this. They understood each other, her and Hal, like no one else in the world.
He looks just like you, a woman in the park had said last week, and Agatha had smiled and pushed Hal a bit higher in the swing. It was easy if you remained calm and polite and didn’t tell an outright lie or try to strike up a conversation with anyone which could tie you in knots. It would have to be only her and Hal, there wouldn’t be room for anyone else, anyone to wheedle out the truth and disapprove. But that was okay. It had been only Agatha for so long now it would be a pleasure to share her life with someone and she couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather be with than Hal. Which was not something she could imagine Ruth ever thinking.
Sarah rang Christian at eleven thirty, as he was about to go into a meeting about whether or not to sack the presenter who couldn’t seem to speak properly. He let it go to answer and didn’t remember to listen to the message until lunchtime.
‘I’ve done it, Christian, and Ruth was fine. She did seem a bit shocked and she said she’s going to make your life a fucking misery, but you couldn’t expect much else I suppose. But anyway, none of that matters, ’cos she said she’s not going to stand in our way. Isn’t that amazing? Call me as soon as you get this.’
Ruth often said inexplicable things to Christian like, I feel dizzy or The world is spinning too fast or I can’t seem to get a grip on life. But in that moment he not only understood what she meant but experienced all of those shape-shifting feelings that make you realise life is never going to be the same again. He immediately rang Ruth but Kirsty told him she’d gone home sick. He was about to call there when he thought he’d better find out what he was going into.
He left the office to call Sarah.
‘Christian, did you get my message?’
‘Yes. What did you say to my wife?’ He wanted to punch her. The sensation rose up in him so violently and yet so unexpectedly that he stumbled.
‘Why do you sound like that?’ she asked.
‘Tell me what you said, Sarah.’
Her voice was unsure. ‘I said what we’d agreed. You know, about how this couldn’t go on and you felt too guilty to leave, but that it was my turn now.’
He couldn’t keep the shout down. ‘What we agreed? When the fuck did we agree that?’
‘Last time we met.’ She was crying now and she disgusted him. ‘I said I couldn’t wait any longer, Christian, I said I was going to tell Ruth and you said you’d call the next day but you didn’t, so I did what I said I would.’
Christian pulled at his hair. The madness was all around him, palpable, fucking everywhere. ‘How dare you come into my life and think you can turn it upside down. We haven’t even done anything. This is fucking mad.’
She was weeping now. ‘But you promised. You said.’
‘I didn’t promise anything. Shit, this is such a mess.’
‘She’s going to leave you and then what will you do?’ Christian’s head loosened. ‘I’m not going to let her leave, and even if she did I would never end up with you.’ He put the phone down but it was without conviction. He knew he had handled everything wrong. Some of the things he’d said to Sarah swirled in his body like the cigarette you smoke at the end of the night which refuses to leave your lungs. Something was not ringing true. His righteous indignation did not feel righteous.
He left Ruth a message and she eventually rang him back and agreed to meet him, but something about her tone told him that he had a long, long battle ahead. He was starting to believe he’d got it
all wrong and his life was going to slip through his fingers like nothing more than a bucket of sand. Something had tricked him, some malevolent external force had made him believe he wanted things that were as flimsy as the tail on a firework. He had been blinded by bright lights and tripped up by misconceptions, none of which were true.
As he sat on a bench waiting for his wife he remembered making a phone call when he was a young teenager and being connected to a call that was entirely not his. Two women talking. He had been mesmerised by them. He had sat and listened to their conversation which had drifted over so many subjects he’d wondered how they knew such things. A recipe for a cake for a daughter’s birthday, news on the other’s piles, an update on a brother’s heart attack, the worry of a husband who found it harder and harder to get out of bed . . . Christian had been let into their private world, had been allowed for a few minutes to share in their innermost being, to be part of someone else. But then one of them had said, Can you hear something? And the other had said, Yes, like someone breathing on the line. And he’d lost his nerve and put the phone down. And then they were gone and he hadn’t asked them anything, they would never even know he existed. Those women had stayed with him all his life and yet it was only now, in the middle of watching his life being sucked down a black hole, that he realised why he had never forgotten them. If only he had understood before this moment. If only he had been clever enough to learn their lesson. If only he had realised what they taught him: that life is lived in the minutest details. That every emotion is within touching distance, hiding under the sink or in the garden or round the corner. He’d spent all this time looking off into the distance while happiness eluded him right under his nose.
Sarah kept ringing but he couldn’t turn his phone off in case Ruth tried to get hold of him. He would ring Sarah eventually and apologise for the way he’d spoken to her. He would make it clear that he loved Ruth and that he didn’t want to be with Sarah, but he would also say that he had treated her badly and had been a coward and he hoped she would be happy. He was sorry he had shouted. Sorry he had called her mad.
Ruth appeared out of nowhere. He had been scanning the park for her but then suddenly she was there. Next to him on the bench, looking like she’d been in a fight. They sat silently for a while, neither wanting to dive into the shit piled at their feet.
‘I am so sorry,’ Christian said finally.
‘Sorry for what? For what you’ve done, or being found out?’ Her voice was too hard.
‘For what I’ve done. Not that I have done anything this time.’
She laughed. ‘You know, once I might have believed you. But having your girlfriend sitting in front of me telling me how you’re going to start trying for a baby sort of put the kibosh on that one.’
‘She’s not my girlfriend.’
‘Yes, but you’ve obviously been seeing her.’
‘I’ve seen her, but not in that way.’
She flashed her eyes at him. ‘Any way is unacceptable, Christian. Do you not get that?’
He felt desperate. ‘Of course I get that. That’s why I didn’t mention it.’
‘Not mentioning it is worse than meeting her. Fuck, you are so stupid.’
‘I thought I could deal with it.’
‘No, you thought you could get away with it.’ And possibly she was right. He felt pathetic.
‘Ruth, nothing happened. I love you.’
‘It doesn’t matter what happened and you don’t love me. When you love someone you respect them.’ She had an answer for everything and they were all probably right. He felt defeated, like he’d never win, and what was he trying to win anyway, what was the prize here?
‘She came for an interview at work, for an admin assistant role. Carol had set it all up, I had no idea she was coming in until she walked through the door. And then she rang the next day and asked to meet up.’
‘There wasn’t a moment in which you thought maybe you shouldn’t?’ He heard a catch in her voice and it gave him hope that she still retained a tiny bit of feeling for him. He imagined her love like an electric light bulb, which at this moment had one tiny filament attaching the working parts.
‘I’m sorry, Ruth. I didn’t meet her because I wanted to start anything up again. But it was odd seeing her, and she sounded desperate on the phone and, I know I shouldn’t have, but I thought it would be one last drink.’
‘What, for old times’ sake?’
‘I know. It was stupid.’
‘And then what happened? It was so great to see her you had to do it again and again?’
‘No, it was complicated. She told me she hadn’t lost the baby, but that she’d had an abortion and then had a breakdown and gone to Australia. Fuck, it sounds lame now, but I felt sorry for her. I felt responsible.’
‘For the first time in your life.’
‘What?’ Christian tried to look at his wife but her face was set so hard he barely recognised her and she scared him.
‘Responsibility is not your forte, Christian. Sure, you have a good job and you’re a good dad, as far as it goes, but you’ve no idea what really goes on with the kids. You don’t worry about things like I do. You sail through life, taking care of yourself. And I’m not saying you’d let us starve or anything, or if something bad happened you wouldn’t worry, but you don’t premeditate anything. It’s like you’re you on the surface, but just under your skin you’re still eighteen. Sometimes it’s like you resent us.’
‘I’m not, but that’s not . . . ’ Christian searched for what he wanted to say but Ruth’s words stung him as if she was throwing pins at him.
‘I was stupid to take you back last time. You never properly changed, so this was always going to happen again.’
‘But nothing happened.’
‘Stop saying that, it makes you sound stupid. You met her, you were no doubt nice to her, nice enough that she thought you were going to leave me . . . ’
‘She’s mad.’
‘And stop saying that. Take responsibility for that as well.’
Christian sat back on the bench. ‘Ruth, I’ll do anything. Please give me one more chance.’
She laughed at him again, a horrid sound that was not a description of mirth. ‘You sound like Betty. And no, the answer is no.’
‘I know I’ve got it wrong.’
‘Do you want a medal?’
‘No, I don’t mean just Sarah. There were two women once . . . ’
‘What, more fucking women?’
‘No, when I was younger, on the phone.’
‘I don’t want to hear about your teenage phone sex, Christian.’
‘Ruth, stop it. Listen to me. I think I get what’s wrong with me. I don’t think I’ve ever realised, before right now, what we had.’
Ruth held her hand up. ‘Please stop. I’ve heard enough of your bullshit for one day.’
He held his head in his hands in a gesture which seemed false but which he felt so keenly, desperately searching for something, anything. He’d take Ruth any way, he realised, it didn’t even have to be that she loved him. ‘But what about the kids?’
‘Like you were thinking about them.’
‘Ruth, I’ll change, I promise. I’ll never make you sad again.’
She gave him a look she usually reserved for Betty’s wilder claims. ‘At least stay in the realms of reality. We’re married, it’s our job to make each other sad.’
He wanted to grab her, to shake her and look deep into her eyes so she could see how much he meant this. They did it in films and it worked, why couldn’t the same apply in real life? Because that was what this was, Christian realised, maybe ten years too late. It felt as real as a newborn baby or a car crash or the death of a friend; a moment which sucks you so completely into the here and now you are for once certain. ‘No, you know what I mean, please, Ruth, please don’t do this.’
‘I’m not doing anything, I’m responding. And I want you to leave, as soon as possible.’
‘N
o, please, really.’
‘God, you are so arrogant!’ Her face was flushed and her voice was rising. ‘You really thought you could get away with this, didn’t you?’
‘I wasn’t thinking like that at all.’
She stood up. ‘I’ve had enough of this. You’ve ruined my life enough for one day. I should be getting back to the kids.’
He stood up as well and put his hands on her shoulders. For a tiny moment they looked at each other and they both longed for things they couldn’t have. ‘Ruth, it’s Hal’s birthday on Saturday. Please give me till the end of the weekend. It’s not fair on him.’ There, he’d played dirty, but he meant it and he was desperate.
Ruth looked as though she knew she’d been had. ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘till the end of the weekend, and just because of Hal.’ She shook his hands off. ‘I’m going to get a taxi home but don’t follow me. I can’t bear to sit in the same space as you.’
He watched her walk away and realised his son had saved him for the second time in his short life. He felt dirty and unworthy, ashamed and guilty. Totally unde-serving of a family who only a few days ago had seemed a burden. Could he admit that to himself and were you allowed to think thoughts like that?
Christian looked across the landscape of his life and realised he didn’t bring much joy. He didn’t even have many meaningful relationships. Of course there was Ruth and the kids, but she was right, he floated with them, he didn’t interact. And Toby, of course Toby. But how much was that to do with history and how much to do with what Christian did for him? He never spoke to his parents beyond pleasantries, had no idea who his brother even was. There were lots of faces at work who were good for going to the pub with for a quick one after work, which pissed Ruth off because it meant he never got home in time to put the kids to bed. But when you looked at it they were all nearly ten years younger than him, he was their boss, they probably only relaxed after he’d left. A sickness washed over him like a shroud.
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