All was going well until Kate fell off the swing and grazed her knee so the special treat play-park visit was cut short and we went home again. Kate spent the afternoon on the settee with her leg propped up and a massive plaster covering the graze while she being the injured one, got to choose which DVD to watch and was waited on like the prima donna she could be when the mood took her and circumstance allowed her to get away with.
One way and another it had not been a good day and definitely not the chilled out happy family Sunday I’d been hoping for. By the time I’d got the children to bed I was fit only for some zombie like television watching, and only an hour or so of that before I gave in and went to bed myself.
Monday was the usual catch up with everything day and now here it was Tuesday again, the start of another wonderful week in the dream life of Sophie Cromby nee Mallons.
The dream life plan was first and foremost to never speak to Martin again, he could visit the children I suppose if he absolutely had to but when he did I’d sit in the next room waiting until he’d gone again. Martin of course would be devastated that he’d lost the love of his life and mortified that it was all his own doing and that had he tried harder we’d never have separated. I’d be the brilliant and brave single mum, abandoned by my useless husband but nevertheless soldiering on in the face of adversity. The children would be happy and well behaved and amazingly clever. People would comment on just how amazing they were and how doubly amazing I was to have managed it all single handed. After a few years I’d meet someone else who was rather well off and would spoil me and declare his undying love and admiration, and the children would say ‘you should marry him mum you deserve a bit of spoiling after the way Dad treated you’.
When I got to work Greg was off for the day so that meant I could give Julie and Dianne an uninterrupted if somewhat abbreviated catch up on the weekend’s events. The whole situation with Martin was so dire I’d gone on and on day after day about it and I was trying my best not to carry on boring everyone to death all the time with all the sordid details.
Julie was the more sympathetic naturally as she had two children of her own and could easily imagine herself in my situation. Dianne tried and could see I was upset about it all but not being married or having children herself didn’t really get it, ‘it’s only for another couple of weeks’ she said placatingly. ‘And then Martin will be home again.’
‘Yes Di but the plans is, well Martin’s plan is to come home for a long weekend and then go back again. We could be living like this for months, year’s maybe’ I said.
‘I’m sure it won’t be years, sooner or later he’s bound to get another job’ Di said.
‘How can he get another job when he’s not here?’ I wailed.
‘She’s got a point’ Julie said. ‘I don’t know what I’d do if my Chris was working away.’
‘Anyway it’s not just that he’s working away that’s bad enough, but the moneys so tight. And more important than anything else is that Martin just doesn’t seem to understand how hard all this is for me. Alright he’s working but it’s like a working bloody holiday out in the sunshine and probably spending every evening in a bar with his new mates, and Lenny of course’ I said spitting the name Lenny out with distaste.
‘To hear the way you two talk you’d think marriage was terrible’ Di said.
‘Sometimes it is’ Julie said passionately. ‘You wait until it’s your turn then you’ll see.’
‘I think it depends on who you choose, if you choose the right man it’s wonderful’ Dianne said dreamily.
‘Wonderful is it? Well when your wonderful husband comes home drunk or falls asleep in front of the telly night after night and you’ve been at work all day but still have to do all the chores around the house, tell me how wonderful it all is then’ Julie said.
‘Or when you’re nine and a half months pregnant and he’s moaning because the house is a mess or the washing’s not done or his dinners not ready’ I added for good measure.
‘Or when you’re up to your armpits in nappy’s and baby bottles and looking like crap and instead of helping he goes down the pub or to a football match’ Julie said.
‘Okay I get it. Men are thoughtless selfish idiots but it’s all in how you handle them’ Di said condescendingly.
‘Oh dear so naïve’ Julie said looking at me and shaking her head mournfully, ‘but I guess she’ll learn.’
I smiled my agreement and Di getting nettled at our complacency said loftily ‘or like I said it depends who you choose’.
‘Like Rich I suppose’ Julie sneered.
‘Yes like my Richard’ Di said.
‘Oh it’s your Richard now is it; do I detect a spot of serious intent?’ Julie said.
‘Maybe’ Di said.
‘So that’s why you’re all ‘men are so wonderful’ and ‘marriage is so wonderful’, you’re thinking about getting married?’ I said.
‘Oh my God are you? Did he ask you? What did you say?’ Julie garbled excitedly and forgetting that she’d just been dissing marriage.
‘Okay slow down, he only asked if I wanted to move in together’ Di said.
‘And?’ Julie said and when Dianne didn’t answer straight away agitatedly added ‘well what did you say?’
‘I said I’d think about it’ Di said.
The first customers were arriving so once more we had to abandon our conversation. That was the thing about work; it was quite annoying how as soon as we were discussing anything even vaguely interesting there was always someone wanting a haircut that would interrupt just when we got to the most riveting part.
By the end of the week Dianne had agreed to move in with her Richard and was waxing all lyrical about how ‘wonderful’ it was all going to be to the point where Julie whispered to me ‘if she says ‘wonderful’ one more time I’m going to have to throttle her’.
15
Somehow I got through the next three weeks without too many major traumas. Martin had phoned every night and spoken to the children but any conversation between him and me was decidedly stilted and icily civil, so it was with some trepidation that I anticipated his homecoming.
It was Friday and once again I had asked Greg for Saturday off. He’d agreed but it was with the proviso that this would be the last Saturday I could take off. I could see his point I mean Saturday was the busiest day in the salon and the last thing you needed was to be a man down, or a girl down in this case, but what else could I do?
The plan was that Martin would go to the Spanish airport straight from work as soon as he’d finished and should be here at home by about eight. I’d said that Ben and Kate could stay up late to see their dad even if it was only for half an hour or so depending on the actual time Martin got back, and they were both so excited they could hardly eat their tea. I could hardly eat my own tea but for entirely different reasons.
Of course the dream life homecoming was a joyous celebration. Martin and I would fall into each other’s arms and say how stupid we’d both been and blame it all on the stress of having to live apart for the last month, and the children would hang on to their dad making sure he never went away again.
I wasn’t sure that the real life homecoming would measure up. Actually I was sure; I knew the real life homecoming wouldn’t measure up. I tried to be positive and swore to myself that I’d push all the negative conversations we’d had to the back of my mind and just concentrate on the fact that whatever had been done or said was in the past, the important thing was that Martin was going to be home again, but it was an uphill struggle.
Ben and Kate had their bath, brushed their teeth, and cosy in their pyjamas were waiting not so patiently for eight o’clock. Since tea time we’d watched two Disney DVD’s one of them being ‘Up’ of course, and now it was a quarter to eight and they’d gone beyond excitement and were driving me mad; probably due more to my own agitation than their behaviour but the effect was the same.
Eight o’clock came and went and still no M
artin. I tried explaining to the children yet again that eight o’clock was only a guessed-at time and that Daddy would surely be here soon, but it was as much to convince myself as it was them.
At the sound of every car we’d all three stiffen in expectation and then droop again when it became obvious it wasn’t Martin. This went on until nearly half nine by which time Ben and Kate were falling asleep and I was beginning to get worried. There’d been no phone call and no text message so what was keeping him?
Over and over again I tried calling Martin’s phone but it was permanently switched off. Naturally a hundred different disastrous scenarios went through my head ranging from a plane crash to he’d decided to live in Spain and was never coming home.
By ten o’clock the children had fallen asleep and I had to wake Kate and help her up to bed with promises of seeing her dad in the morning, then I went back downstairs and carried the still asleep Ben up to bed. I made myself a coffee, a thing I never usually did this late, and sat in the kitchen worrying. Martin finally arrived home at ten past eleven and by then I was practically a basket case.
‘You’re so late, what happened?’ I said as I helped him through the door with his bag.
‘Lenny couldn’t get the car started; after sitting in the car park at the airport for so long the battery was dead so we had to wait for the RAC bloke.’
‘Why didn’t you phone I’ve been worried sick?’
‘Phone died’ Martin said. ‘Is there any tea going I’m gagging for a cup?’
We left his bag in the hall and walked down to the kitchen, Martin slumped onto a chair and I filled the kettle and switched it on before sitting down opposite him. ‘What about Lenny’s phone?’ I said.
‘Oh he lost that on the way out there.’
‘So how did you phone the RAC?’ I queried.
‘Er in a phone box’ Martin bit back with a tone of isn’t it obvious. ‘What is this, twenty questions?’
‘So why didn’t you phone me from the phone box?’
‘Because it was on the other side of the car-park, a twenty minute walk away and I didn’t think it was going to take as long as it did to get the car fixed or that I’d be this late. Anyway I didn’t think you’d be that bothered.’
‘Of course I was bothered I’ve been imagining all sorts’ I said getting up to make the tea now that the kettle had boiled.
‘I didn’t even know if you’d let me stay here after what you said on the phone’ Martin said side-eyeing me surreptitiously. ‘So am I staying?’
I made a mug of tea and put it on the table in front of Martin before answering. ‘Well that’s up to you’ I said.
‘Is it? Well that’s news to me’ he said in mock surprise.
‘Oh for God’s sake Martin what did you expect me to say? We were arguing, you’d helped yourself to the money in our account without telling me, you promised to phone and then didn’t bother, you were off on a jolly in bloody Spain and left me to cope with everything, I was angry.’
‘I explained about the money, I didn’t have any choice’ Martin said getting angry himself.
‘You had a choice whether you were going to tell me, but you decided to let me find out by having the card declined in the middle of Tesco’s.’
‘I said already that I didn’t think it was going to be that much and I thought you’d just get upset if I told you, and that it’d all be paid back anyway by the time you found out.’
‘Well that didn’t quite work out did it? And what about all the phone calls you didn’t make? You promised to phone everyday’ I said pacing back and forth so agitated by now I couldn’t have sat still if you’d tied me to the chair.
‘I did phone everyday’ Martin said calmly which made me even madder than I already was.
‘Only after I shouted at you, only after you realised Ben and Kate were upset that you hadn’t phoned.’
‘Look it was difficult’ Martin said.
‘Was it?’ I snapped back. ‘Well it was bloody difficult for me here on my own with the kids and not knowing what the hell was going on.’
‘I’m sorry okay’ Martin said sounding anything but sorry. ‘Is that what you wanted to hear?’
‘What I wanted to hear was that you missed me, missed all of us’ I said finally sitting down tired from all the stress and all that pacing I’d been doing.
‘I did miss you’ Martin almost shouted.
We sat in silence not looking at each other. We’d reached some sort of impasse that neither of us could get past.
‘It wasn’t easy for me either you know, you weren’t the only one having problems’ Martin said breaking the silence.
‘Martin your biggest problem was which bar to go to of an evening’ I said.
‘I knew you’d think that. For your information we didn’t go to a bar every evening.’
‘Right just every other evening’ I said flippantly.
‘I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. For the record I did miss you, I did miss the kids, I didn’t go to a bar every night and I did want to come home; although right now I’m wondering why. I’m too tired to argue anymore I’ll sleep on the sofa bed tonight’ Martin said and promptly got up and left the room.
I heard him in the bathroom and then heard him in the living room pulling out the sofa bed and all the while I just carried on sitting in the kitchen. What was I supposed to do now I thought, but I didn’t have to think long as Martin came back out to the kitchen. ‘Can’t we call a truce?’ he said.
Of course my answer was yes, I didn’t want to be arguing or feeling so angry. Martin and I fell on each other and for that moment anyway all the arguments faded away. We went upstairs ignoring the pulled out sofa in the living room and snuggled up together in our bed. We were both too tired for anything else despite our long separation, but being able to snuggle was enough.
The next morning once Ben and Kate were awake was like some mad mardi gras. They bounced into the bedroom at about six and not so gently climbed on the bed shouting ‘Daddy’ over and over as loudly as their lungs would allow. After such a rude awakening I gratefully slid out from under the covers and left Martin to it smiling to myself as I made my escape; I always needed tea first thing in the morning and this morning with all the hullabaloo I needed an extra-large cup.
The children hijacked Martin for most of the day while I folded away the sofa bed, emptied out Martin’s bag, did two loads of washing, provided periodic refreshments, and generally tidied up in the wake of the reunion-fest between father and offspring. It was good to see Ben and Kate so happy and good that my long lost husband was finally home. In the evening Martin supervised bath time and read Ben and Kate a bed time story each and then finally we got to spend some time on our own, just me and Martin without interruption. After dinner we cuddled up on the settee watching telly like we used to before the children were born and later we had a reunion-fest all of our own.
I knew that the euphoria wouldn’t last forever but for this one day at least my dream life aspirations spilled over into my real life.
On Sunday Martin suggested that as it was the last day of the month and therefore payday, his money should have gone in and for once we should spoil ourselves by going out somewhere for Sunday dinner. Not counting the odd McDonald’s we hadn’t had a family meal out for ages, in fact I couldn’t remember the last time. He went to fill the car up and check the bank while I got Ben and Kate changed and the plan was that as soon as he got back we’d be off to blow the budget, or at least some of it, at the local carvery.
The three of us sat ready and waiting for Martin’s return while I threatened the kids with serious injury if they didn’t behave while we were out, to which of course they took no notice whatsoever and continued in hyper-mode that shifted to ultra hyper-mode as soon as they heard the car pull up.
The minute I saw Martins face I knew something was wrong. ‘I haven’t been paid’ he said as he walked through the door.
Ben and Kate continued thei
r excited babbling not understanding what exactly ‘I haven’t been paid’ meant until Martin told them to go and play in the garden for a bit. They moaned but eventually went.
‘What d’you mean you haven’t been paid?’ I said as soon as the children were out of earshot.
‘I mean the money’s not in the bank’ Martin said.
‘Yes I kind of figured that bit out, but why haven’t you been paid? I thought last day of the month . . . and as it’s a Sunday you’d have been paid on Friday or yesterday maybe.’
‘Yeah I thought so too, but the money’s not there’ Martin said worriedly as he sat down at the table.
‘It’ll probably be paid in tomorrow’ I said. ‘You know with it coming from Spain and everything it probably takes a bit longer because they have to convert it or something.’
‘But the money’s not coming from Spain; I told you it’s an English operation. We’re working in Spain but the company’s based in Britain, Twickenham I think it is.’
‘You think?’ I said slightly alarmed.
‘I don’t know, I can’t remember’ Martin said getting agitated.
‘When did they tell you you’d be paid?’
‘End of the month.’
‘And that’s all they said, end of the month? They didn’t say the second of the following month, or the first Friday after the end of the month, or . . .’
‘No just end of the month and I assumed that meant the last day of the month’ Martin groaned.
‘And you’re sure you gave them the right bank details?’
‘Pretty sure, I read them off my card. I suppose it could be that, maybe I got it wrong or they did and someone else has been paid.’
‘Phone Lenny and see if he’s been paid’ I said.
‘Good idea, but I’ll have to go round he’s lost his phone remember.’
‘Okay’ I sighed, ‘but I swear to God if you’re there for longer than half an hour I’ll never speak to you again.
The Dream Life I Never Had Page 9