‘Yes, you know you have. You look lovely.’
‘I don’t look like I come from Cornwall, do I?’
‘Lottie!’
‘Well, some of the people who live there do look a little as if they come from the land that time forgot.’
‘I didn’t hear that.’
‘It’s nice to be back,’ Lottie remarked, gazing out the window. ‘It’s nice to see people. And, wow, look at all the amazing shops. So much to buy.’ She turned to Sara and grinned. ‘Don’t worry, I love Cornwall too. It’s just I’d forgotten how – well, fun, it is here.’
Sara saw Matt the moment she pushed open the elegant swing doors to the bar of the restaurant. He was sitting with his back to her, facing Emily, who was wearing a smart black suit she hadn’t seen before. She stopped dead, and Lottie bumped into her from behind.
There he was. Just from looking at his outline she could instantly conjure up in her mind’s eye every contour of his face, the shape of his eyes, the way his hair stood up from his forehead, the planes of his cheek, the lines running down each side of his mouth which deepened and curved when he smiled. She took a deep breath, just as Lottie gave her a little push in the small of her back.
‘Go on,’ she whispered in her ear. ‘It’s OK. I’m here.’
His broad shoulders, in a dark jacket she didn’t recognize, seemed tense. Usually he lolled in a chair but today he was sitting very upright, a small gap between his body and the back of his chair. She had to stop herself calling out his name, but just at that moment he turned, as if he knew instinctively she had come. They stared at each other, a lifetime together held in that one concentrated moment.
‘Dad!’ Lottie broke the spell, running past Sara to throw her arms around Matt’s neck. She saw him reach up to put his arms around her, his eyes suddenly clenched shut, the lines of his face etched with love as he held his youngest daughter.
Sara moved forward, awkwardly, to stand a few feet away from them.
‘Hello, Matt,’ she said. Lottie’s eyes were shining, like a child unwrapping a present. You do love him, Sara thought. Of course you do. Oh Matt. Oh, Matt. He lifted his face to look at her over Lottie’s shoulder. His eyes were full of tears, his mouth twisted into the ghost of a smile. My husband. My beloved husband. You could not be more familiar to me. What have we done? Our family is here, the four of us together. How can we have initiated these splits, these sharp angles which wound us all? How can we call ourselves adults? I’m sorry, his eyes spoke. I am so very sorry.
For several moments they stared at each other, as Lottie looked from her father to her mother. Sara found she was smiling, as was Matt, and in that one instant their eyes said I love you, oh I love you, how could I have thought it would be different? I know you better than anyone else in the world. What have we done?
‘Dad?’ Emily’s voice cut through the moment. His gaze jerked away from Sara’s, and the connection was lost. He coughed, twisting back in his chair away from her, leaving Sara standing behind him, embarrassed. Lottie stood up from bending over her father and pulled out a chair.
‘Sit here, Mum,’ she said, her expression scared, watchful. Don’t cry, her eyes pleaded with Sara. Please. Not now.
Mutely, Sara moved forward and looked over at Emily, who was imperiously holding out an empty wine glass towards her father. Emily’s gaze flicked up at her. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘How was the journey?’
‘Long,’ Lottie cut in, swiftly. ‘It took ages, didn’t it, Mum?’ The words rattled out of her. ‘We were going to drive but Mum thought it would take even longer and she was worried about finding a parking space, and now you have the congestion charge it was just . . .’
‘Enough already,’ Emily said, holding up a manicured hand. ‘I don’t need a blow by blow account, OK?’
‘How are you?’ Sara said to Emily.
‘I’m fine,’ Emily said, in a brittle fashion. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m really . . . well, I’m fine too. It’s lovely to see you. You look very . . . smart.’
‘Thanks. I’m normally a bit more scruffy for work but I thought I’d make an effort because Dad was bringing us somewhere so nice.’ She looked over at Lottie critically. ‘Glad you didn’t bother to dress up, Lots. God, you’re not still wearing that old jumper, are you?’
‘It used to be mine,’ Matt said recognizing it with surprise. ‘Mum bought it for me, in Scotland . . .’ His voice tailed off as Sara looked at him.
‘I remember.’ She smiled. ‘That was ages ago, I’m amazed it hasn’t fallen to bits.’
He returned her smile. ‘You look great. That’s a new shirt. And new trousers.’
‘Mmm. I treated myself.’
‘You’ve lost weight.’
‘Have I?’
‘Yes. It suits you. I like your hair like that.’
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his hand move, as if he was going to reach over and brush a hair away from her cheek. Her eyes met his, and they both froze. Don’t touch me! her eyes warned – don’t, please don’t, I could not bear that. For a second they stared at each other, appalled. They no longer had the freedom to touch.
‘Would you like a drink, madam?’
She turned to find a waiter hovering by her chair. She looked at Matt and Emily’s glasses. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’d like a glass of white wine, please.’
‘House wine, or we have a list of different wines by the glass. Perhaps if I bring you a . . .’
‘House white will be fine,’ Sara told him.
‘You don’t normally drink at lunchtime,’ Matt remarked, surprised.
‘Now I do,’ Sara said. ‘Things have changed.’
Lottie, who’d been holding out her wrist to show Emily a new bracelet, glanced over at her, warningly.
‘They have,’ Matt said, frowning, and looking down at the menu. ‘They certainly have.’
Well, of course they have, you bloody man, Sara screamed inside. You changed them! Here we are, the four of us, having lunch, and it could be lovely, and normal, and instead we are about to talk about divorce and our two children feel as if they have to walk on eggshells and nothing will ever be the same again because you took that selfish step, that eminently selfish step of thinking you had to have something that you wanted – not needed – and in that one, thoughtless, greedy action you broke our lives. Don’t make me feel bad about any of this. Don’t you dare, don’t you dare make me feel as if this awkward, tense, surreal situation is any of my fault. I am not going to have that. Her hackles were raised, and the immense, warming sense of love she had felt when they first saw each other was receding, to be replaced by all the feelings she had spent so long suppressing – anger, bitterness, helplessness . . .
‘What would you like?’ Matt handed her the menu. The words swam before her eyes.
I’d like this year never to have happened, she thought. That is what I would like. But I would like the woman I am now to be the woman who was married to you then, because if that was the case you might have thought twice before deceiving me.
‘I’ll have the scallops,’ she said, and suddenly had an intense longing to be out of this smart, formal atmosphere and sitting in Pip’s.
‘As a main course? No starter? You can have one, if you like.’
Well, thank you, Sara thought. How generous. ‘I don’t need to be told what to eat,’ she said, coolly. ‘I’m not really hungry.’
She looked up, and saw Lottie’s mouth was twitching.
Emily glanced over anxiously at her sister, and her sharp expression softened. ‘You OK, Lots?’ she murmured.
Lottie sniffled, and reached down into her bag for a tissue. Matt shifted in his chair, uneasily.
‘So tell me about the house,’ he said brightly.
‘It’s great,’ Lottie said, looking up. ‘We love it, don’t we, Mum?’
Emily’s expression changed. ‘I’m glad you’ve both settled in so well,’ she said sarcastically.
‘That
wasn’t what Lottie meant,’ Sara said.
‘Whatever.’
‘I’d love you to come and stay,’ Sara said. ‘Maybe at a weekend, or when you have a holiday?’
Emily glanced over at her father. ‘I’m really busy,’ she said.
Matt looked from his elder daughter to Sara. ‘I don’t mind . . .’ he said, then stopped abruptly.
‘You don’t need your father’s permission,’ Sara said.
‘Perhaps I just don’t really want to come,’ Emily replied, staring at her mother.
‘Oh.’ Sara nodded, her heart beating faster. There was a deathly silence around the table. ‘Well, that’s brutally honest, if nothing else. It’s up to you, of course. You’re an adult now.’
‘Please can we not have a row?’ asked Lottie faintly.
Matt smiled at her. ‘No one is rowing, Lots.’ He raised his hand in the air, to signal a waiter to come and take their order. ‘We had better order,’ he said, glancing at his watch. ‘We’ve to see my solicitor at three, and then I’ve a meeting I couldn’t rearrange, he’s flying in from the States.’
‘I need to get back too,’ Sara said.
‘Oh?’ Matt replied, raising his eyebrows.
‘Hector,’ Lottie explained. ‘Mum hates leaving him for too long.’
‘Oh yes,’ Matt said. ‘Hector. How is he?’
‘Still a Labrador,’ Sara said. Lottie snorted.
‘I mean, does he like living in Cornwall?’
‘Seems to,’ Sara said. ‘We all do, the three of us. It’s very healthy. We go for lots of long walks.’
‘How jolly,’ Emily muttered.
‘I am sure,’ Sara said, keeping her voice level, ‘that if you came you would enjoy it. Try to meet me half way, Em.’ Their eyes locked, and in that instant Sara saw how lost and lonely her eldest daughter was actually feeling, behind the bravado.
‘I miss you,’ Sara said simply.
Emily’s face seemed to crumple. ‘I miss you too,’ she said, quietly.
‘Let’s go and eat,’ Matt said.
‘I hear you’re moving,’ Sara remarked, as the waiter brought their main course.
‘That’s right. I’m glad Emily’s keeping you up to speed.’
‘Why shouldn’t I know?’ Sara asked. ‘Is it a secret?’
Matt laughed nervously. ‘Of course not.’ He put his glass firmly down on the table, as if determined to wrest control of the direction this conversation was taking.
‘It’s not far from home. Smaller, but then I don’t need the space.’
‘Don’t you?’ Sara said. ‘Why?’
‘Because Emily’s got her own flat and I can’t imagine Lottie will stay with me very often when she’s at university – although you’re very welcome, Lottie, obviously – and, besides . . .’
‘You’re going to live there alone?’ Sara hadn’t meant to say anything like this, but the words just tumbled out of her. Both Lottie and Emily stared at her, appalled. Matt hurriedly reached forward and took a long sip of his wine.
‘Yes,’ he said. He and Emily glanced at each other, and then Emily looked away.
Sara had almost finished eating her scallops – which proved to be delicious – when Matt said they must talk about money.
‘We’ve got to start making some practical decisions about the future. Given that . . .’ He looked down at his empty plate, as if searching for inspiration. ‘Given that Mum has the, um, Cornwall, and the contracts are close to being exchanged on my new home – flat – I want you all to be secure,’ he added. His mouth turned down at the corners, and, for the first time during the meal, Sara felt a tug at the very edge of her heart.
‘Maybe I have been . . .’ he could not meet Sara’s gaze, and he looked over her shoulder out of the window. He took a deep breath. ‘Maybe things have . . . I don’t want any of you to feel that I am not supporting you. I have a responsibility to you all,’ he continued, looking around the table, ‘and that will never change, whatever happens. As you know,’ he said to Lottie and Emily, ‘you both have trusts . . .’
‘I didn’t know I had a trust,’ Lottie said quickly. ‘Did you, Em?’ Emily shook her head.
‘Well, you have,’ Matt said. ‘It just didn’t seem, there was no need to go into it before. Anyway, I can release some money to buy you a flat when you feel ready, Emily, and for you, Lottie, if you want a place of your own in your second year at university, so you don’t have to waste money on rent. It’ll get you started on the property ladder. I’m going to set up a monthly allowance for you both, for clothes and holidays, things like that. Now, Sara . . .’ He turned to her, in a businesslike fashion.
‘I don’t need your money, Matt,’ Sara said, putting down her fork and looking at him coolly. Matt glanced at her, irritated.
‘I know you didn’t want to take money initially but principles are one thing – the reality is that . . .’ He was beginning to sound pompous.
Sara held up the palm of her hand, as if to stop him. ‘I appreciate what you are trying to do for the girls – but I really don’t want them to think they can just click their fingers and you’ll send round a wad of cash. It doesn’t give them much of an incentive to work, does it, if you are going to supply them with an allowance indefinitely? Don’t you think this has more to do with obviating your guilt than a desire to provide?’
Matt stiffened in his chair. ‘I don’t think that is fair at all. I am their father. Frankly, I can do what I want. I don’t need your permission to give money to my children.’
Sara took a deep breath. I am not going to lose my temper, she thought. ‘Isn’t it fair? I think it is, actually. They are my daughters too, and I have a say in this. I happen to think it’s good for them to have to work for their own money. I don’t mind you giving them the deposit for a flat, but I draw the line at a monthly allowance.’
‘It’s up to Dad,’ Emily said quickly.
‘Oh, is it? I suppose you would be keen to agree, though, wouldn’t you?’
‘Oh shut up!’ Emily shouted. The people on the next table looked over at them in amazement. ‘What has it got to do with you? I am so sick of your holier than thou attitude, that we can all manage on a shoestring. Well, I don’t want to manage on a shoestring. I don’t want to live in a horrible falling-down shitty little cottage in the arse end of nowhere just so you can prove a point and make Dad feel really bad! I’m not surprised he left!’ Her shoulders heaved. She threw down her napkin and ran out of the restaurant.
‘I’m sorry,’ Matt said, and put his hand over Sara’s. ‘I’m sure she didn’t mean it.’
Sara snatched her hand away. ‘Don’t touch me,’ she said sharply. Lottie pushed her chair away from the table, glanced despairingly between her parents, and rushed after her sister.
‘Ah,’ Matt said, watching Lottie’s departing back. ‘That went well, didn’t it? Well done, Sara.’
Sara sank her head into her hands, groaning. ‘That was not my fault! What did you expect, Matt? That we’d meet up and it would all be happy families and you’d give us money and pat us on the head and we’d go away contented as clams? This isn’t about money! It’s about the fact that the children love us, both together, and it’s breaking them in two to see us like this. Emily wasn’t furious about money, she was furious about the fact that we are living hundreds of miles apart and that she has to see you with . . .’
There was a long pause. ‘I wondered when you would bring that up,’ Matt said
Sara looked up at him. She felt mentally and physically exhausted, and suddenly had an intense longing to be at home. ‘I don’t necessarily mean . . .’ she said, wearily. ‘Honestly, Matt. Of course it has hurt me, you’ll never know how much, but I think I’m finally over it now and if she makes you happy then . . . fine. Get on with it. Do whatever you want to do. But be sensitive to the children’s needs. They don’t just need money, Matt, they need your time. They don’t want anything to change – we – you – took away their security, the
ir home, the parents they took for granted.’
Matt bristled. ‘I see Emily a great deal. It’s your fault that Lottie won’t see me – I’ve asked her time and time again to stay. Actually, I was trying to sort everything out. You may not think money is important, Sara, but then you’ve never had to live in the real world.’
Sara stared at him horrified. ‘It’s my fault I didn’t work? It’s my fault I dropped my career to have your children? Oh, thanks, Matt. Thanks very much. I am so glad to think that over twenty years of my life were apparently a waste of time. I wasn’t living in the real world, was I, I was a spoilt little housewife? So now I know.’
‘That wasn’t what I meant,’ he said. ‘Honestly, Sara, you have become very argumentative and difficult.’
Sara laughed. ‘You mean I don’t agree with you? No, Matt, I don’t agree with you and if I don’t like what you are saying I will bloody well say so.’
‘Sara! You never swear.’
‘Oh, yes, I do, Matt. I do now.’ She sighed. ‘Look. This isn’t getting us anywhere. Neither of us is completely blameless and I’m not going to start recriminating. What’s the point? What’s done is done. Here we are. Apart. Possibly even about to divorce. Maybe you’re right. Maybe my attitude is upsetting the girls. Emily has a problem with me, she always has had. You were her favourite and now we’ve split the family right down the middle, haven’t we? Well done us. Full marks for excellent parenting. At least we waited until they were old enough to cope. No. Scrub that. They are never old enough to cope. You know, Matt, it is better we don’t meet. It’s always going to end in chaos because there is just too much – just too much history, feelings, emotions for us ever to be calm and normal with each other because the situation is so very far from normal. You live your life, Matt, and I’ll live mine. Let’s keep communication down to the bare minimum.’
Too Beautiful to Dance Page 18