The Dream Life I Never Had

by Terri Douglas

  Work was the usual manic Saturday-hell and to top it off Claire Farmer or Claire Stebbings as she was now, she of the former BFF status, had booked an appointment for a blow dry. She was still dropping little gems of snobby one-upmanship every time she opened her supercilious mouth and I smiled sweetly oohing and aahing in all the right places, while secretly planning to make a voodoo doll of her the minute I got home. The last thing I needed right now was someone highlighting just how crap my life had turned out and how wonderful hers was by comparison.

  The only thing that carried me all week, apart from the overwhelming anger, was the thought that I had a week off work. A whole week to chill out, spend some time with the kids, catch up on the washing that I was still behind with, and just not think for a few days about Martin or divorce or work or anything much. Mm heaven, I thought.

  Kate was subdued on Sunday at the thought of not seeing Oliver for seven whole days, her third and final week at the play scheme was to be the week after my week off, but by Monday I’m glad to say she was almost back to her old self.

  Martin was supposed to be looking after the children for the week after Kate’s last week at the play scheme, but the more I thought about it the more I didn’t want him hanging around in the house all day every day for a whole week. I racked my brains trying to think of reasons why he shouldn’t look after the children, seeing them I didn’t mind I even encouraged it, it was just the fact of him being here in what used to be ‘our’ house that was niggling me. But as it turned out I needn’t have worried because late on Sunday night he phoned to say he had a month’s private work and would need the car.

  ‘But you were supposed to be looking after Ben and Kate for a week the week after next’ I said complaining even though only a moment before I’d been trying to think of ways to prevent him doing just that.

  ‘Yes I know and I’m sorry but I won’t be able to. I can’t turn down the chance of work can I?’

  ‘No I suppose you can’t’ I said resignedly. ‘So why do you need the car, can’t you use Lenny’s?’

  ‘Lenny’s car is off the road, dead and virtually buried. He’s going to look for another one as soon as we get paid for this job’ Martin had said.

  ‘Right I suppose you’ll have to have it then. Can’t I keep the car for next week at least, I’ve got the week off work and I was hoping to take the kids somewhere, when exactly does this new job start?’

  ‘Sorry I’m going to need it first thing in the morning.’

  ‘Then I guess you’d better take it now’ I said, and half an hour later that’s exactly what he did do.

  Ben and Kate were disappointed on Monday morning that we didn’t have use of the car anymore which meant we couldn’t go to the safari park as I’d promised them, but I said we’d go to the Sea Life centre in Birmingham instead but we’d have to go on the train. I crossed my fingers and hoped against hope that one I could afford to take them to the Sea Life centre and that it would be a good enough alternative to seeing the lions and giraffes they’d been looking forward to. And two that I’d be up to managing two children all day on my own for a trip like that.

  The children were thrilled, after being so disappointed they now hopped around the kitchen as if it was Christmas morning. Not so much at the thought of seeing all that sea life more because they were going somewhere on a train. If only I’d known I thought, I could have just suggested we go for a train ride all day, maybe on the circle line.

  The Sea Life centre trip, or rather the train ride getting to the Sea Life centre, was mostly what had cheered Kate up and distracted her from thinking about Oliver being at the play scheme without her. I planned it for the coming Friday, a sort of grand finale to my week at home with the children and cautiously logged on to the internet to check the prices. Luck or fate must have been on my side because actually it was cheaper, only just though, than going to the safari park. Of course I’d have to add the price of train tickets which as you might expect were exorbitant and for some strange reason even more exorbitant on a Friday than any other day of the week, so I made an instant decision to switch the whole event to Thursday. I pacified myself with the thought that at least we wouldn’t be spending on petrol if we weren’t travelling by car.

  Of course one big bonus to planning an outing was the not insignificant detail that you could bribe your children with it in the run up. You know that ‘if you don’t behave we won’t be going anywhere’ scenario that almost always never fails, and I put this into immediate use for the next three days.

  For the rest of Monday I managed to catch up with the washing and give the house a bit of a blitz while Ben and Kate either helped, or maybe that should be hindered depending on your point of view but they did it very willingly and good naturedly, or they stayed out of my way which meant I could get on.

  On Tuesday it was that day of the summer holidays all parents learn to dread, the day of buying the new school uniform and new shoes. Any shopping with my two was definitely to be avoided if at all possible but this was one time when I couldn’t avoid it. Town was heaving when we got there, mostly with other mothers all trying to get their own children kitted out before the return to school; it was news to me that evidently today was National New Shoes Day.

  Ben was easier to shoe shop for as he could wear trainers to nursery, but Kate according to the Almond Street school rules had to have proper shoes. We fought our way into one shoe shop after another taking a number ticket and waiting patiently, only to be told when it was finally our turn that they’d sold out of this size or that style, so then it was on to the next shop to go through the whole process again. Eventually we succeeded and I felt like the shopping hero I was and that I deserved at the very least a mention on the six o’clock news; ‘today a single mother of two managed single-handed to beat the National New Shoes Day crowds and successfully bought shoes for both of her children’.

  The school uniform for Kate was a bit easier, thank God for Asda, and I did a bit of food shopping while we were there but then we had to get a taxi as I couldn’t manage shopping and two children on the two buses it would have taken to get home.

  Wednesday was fraught. Ben and Kate were hyper at the thought of a day out and the ‘if you don’t behave we won’t be going anywhere’ was wearing thin; Kate who was nobody’s fool had worked out that I’d already paid for the tickets so was hardly likely to cancel at this late stage no matter how much I threatened.

  To burn off a bit of their excess energy and take their mind off tomorrows outing I got the paddling pool out in the garden. It hadn’t been out since last summer and I prayed that it hadn’t got a puncture whist sitting in the shed all winter, and luckily it hadn’t. After the momentous effort of blowing the thing up, then the agonising wait as I stood holding the hose that was fed through the kitchen window while it filled, and Ben and Kate excitedly jumping around in their swimsuits impatient to get in the water we were finally ready. Naturally the first thing the children did was to complain how cold the water was and get straight back out again. But an hour and a drink of juice and packet of crisps later the water had warmed up and the children were happily splashing about while I stood in the kitchen watching through the window and savouring a much needed cup of tea after all my exertions.

  My mobile rang and it was a number I didn’t recognise. It was Paul, phoning he said to say hello and see how I was. ‘But how did you get my number?’ I said.

  ‘From Dianne’ he said.

  ‘Oh’ I said and a small alarm bell rang. If he’d gone to the trouble of getting my number from his sister did that mean he’d given up on being my fake big brother?

  ‘So how are things?’ Paul asked.

  ‘Okay, pretty much the same. How are things with you?’

  ‘Yeah the same. I just wondered . . . well I was thinking how much I enjoyed the other night and I wondered if you’d like a repeat performance?’

  ‘Yes I enjoyed it, well after we’d left the restaurant anyway, and it’s very
sweet of you but I don’t think . . .’ I burbled panicking a bit.

  ‘I knew you’d think the worst that’s why I hesitated to ask, but it really was quite nice to be able to talk to someone . . . someone who understood and was going through the . . . I thought we could just be friends and I know that sounds like a synonym for something more sinister but I mean it. Just friends with a lot in common, at least a cheating partner in common’ Paul said.

  ‘I don’t know Paul, going for a drink . . . well it’d feel like a date and I’m really not ready to date anyone.’

  ‘Well how about a day out somewhere? He said and I started panicking again so he quickly added ‘I meant with the children yours and mine; it’d be nice to take them somewhere that wasn’t McDonald’s. Just two single divorced parents giving their kids a day out, what do you say?’

  ‘Um . . . I . . . I’m not sure it’s a good idea.’

  ‘I understand’ Paul said forlornly. ‘I would like to see you again, to talk’ he added quickly, ‘and to tell the truth I struggle a bit taking my kids anywhere on my own, it can be quite nerve-racking keeping an eye on two energetic tearaways on an outing anywhere and it’s a real problem if my daughter needs the toilet if you catch my drift, so you’d be doing me a favour really. But if you can’t then . . .’

  ‘Okay’ I said.

  Yes I know, all that about not wanting to take his kids anywhere on his own was probably fiction just like the ‘we’ll just be friends’, but a bit of me was already quite nervous about taking Ben and Kate on a train to the Sea Life centre on my own and Paul was easy to talk to and quite good company . . . so anyway that’s how I ended up inviting him to come with us to Birmingham.

  Paul got quite excited about the invite and said he’d book tickets for him and his two children as soon as he got off the phone, which as it turned out was almost straight away.

  While I’d been busy talking unnoticed by me the sky had clouded over and was threatening rain, and then a clap of thunder heralded a mad downpour of summer rain where the raindrops were so big and heavy they actually hurt as they landed. Ben and Kate came rushing in squealing and shivering and I hastily said my goodbyes to Paul and hung up.

  The rain continued on and off for the rest of the day so I had no chance to empty the paddling pool, and the children once dry and dressed watched through the kitchen window as it filled up with rain and then overflowed onto the grass. During one of the intervals between showers Ben thought it would be a good idea to go back into the pool, and without removing his shoes or clothes escaped out the back door while I was getting dinner ready and clumsily climbed over the inflated edge of the pool creating a mini tidal wave and soaking himself in the process.

  After I’d rescued him, dried him off, changed his clothes, and threatened him not only with no outing to the Sea Life centre but no outings anywhere ever again for the rest of his life, and locking the back door for added insurance, he promised to be good and almost managed to keep his promise for the rest of the day.

  29

  I met Paul and his two children at ten o’clock the next morning outside the train station. Paul had offered to take us in his car, but I’d said that Ben and Kate were looking forward to the train ride and that anyway trying to squeeze six of us in a car probably wasn’t a good idea.

  Last night I’d explained to Ben and Kate that we were meeting a friend of Mummy’s with his children and they were coming with us for our day out. Ben couldn’t have cared less, a day out was a day out in his little world and as long as he still got to ride on a train if other people were going to be there well that was okay and no big deal. But Kate was a bit put out, ‘who was he?’ She’d said. ‘Who were his children, what were their names and how old were they?’ I’d had to say I didn’t know to most of her questions but after my grilling, fruitless though it was, she reluctantly agreed they could go with us although I suspect it was more for my benefit than her own.

  As we walked up to the station entrance I could see Paul with his two children already there and waiting and who turned out to be Tyler who was eleven, and Caitlin who was five. Once all the introductions were over with and the children were standing embarrassed and awkward with their own parent and not interacting with each other at all Paul took charge and herded everyone through the entrance and towards platform five; evidently he’d made it his business to find out in advance the time of the trains and which platform ours would depart from.

  Well this was a new experience I thought. A bloke who took charge and had organised everything instead of leaving it all to me and just tagged along and then complained if things didn’t work out quite as expected; of course we were yet to find out if all Pauls organising would work out but at least he’d made the effort. On the other hand it was a bit presumptuous of him taking charge like that, I mean what about my super-hero single mum status? What if I didn’t want to be organised by someone else? Hmm I thought, definite minefield territory this.

  I hung on tightly to Ben’s hand as we waited for the train, the last thing I wanted was for him to pull one of his disappearing acts right now, and the two girls Kate and Caitlin shyly stood together warily swapping information about which school they went to and who their respective teachers were. Tyler though stood aloof and apart from the rest of us and just watched his father silently as Paul tried to make small talk and crack silly jokes with Ben; clearly Tyler had issues with this betrayal of parental loyalty and was feeling the sting of rejection. I quickly tried to engage Tyler in conversation but he was decidedly aloof and distant, maybe he had issues with the whole divorced parent’s thing and here I was the interloper, or maybe he was just at a funny age.

  The train arrived, ten minutes late but hey for British Rail that was quite good going, and we all climbed on and settled ourselves. Luckily we’d nabbed a ‘four seats, two either side of a table’ seat and the adjacent one across the aisle so we could all sit relatively closely. I put Ben by the window so he could see everything and I sat next to him so he couldn’t escape, and Paul sat opposite us. Kate and Caitlin sat next to each other on the adjacent table arrangement and Tyler sat opposite them.

  Ben got very excited when the train announcer started talking and listing all the stops the train was going to make, and when the train actually started moving he knelt and then stood up on the seat pressing his little nose against the window so that he could see everything. I made him go back to kneeling and said that if he stood up on the seat the conductor would throw him off the train and his eyes widened in horror at the prospect, but he didn’t try to stand up again.

  Ben’s enthusiasm was infectious and before long we were all pointing out anything and everything that was remotely interesting, even Tyler joined in. At each stop Ben would watch the people getting off and then more people getting on and then he’d shush us all so he could listen to the garbled underwater announcement of where the train was going, and then back to his window again to see whichever station we were at slide out of view as we pulled out.

  It was a forty minute journey which was more than enough for me but not nearly long enough for Ben. At the stop before ours when Paul said ‘ours is the next one’ Ben’s lip quivered, and as we pulled into New Street station and we all stood up preparing to get off he shook his head and clung to the edge of the table. The tears started and he shouted ‘no, no-no-no, not getting off’.

  I cajoled and tried to coerce him out of his seat but he was adamant that he was staying put. The train was slowing and I franticly tried coaxing him out of his seat where he’d now sat down and had his feet firmly wedged against the table. I tried enticement and bribery, I tried wheedling and telling him about all the underwater creatures he was about to see, and then I tried shouting and threatening but none of it worked. Paul tried to just carry him bodily from the seat but Ben let out such a wail that Paul flinched and I said ‘maybe not’ to his attempt.

  Then Tyler sidled himself into the seat opposite Ben and said quietly ‘we’ll have to catch an
other train to get home Ben after we’ve seen all the turtles and the fish’ and straight away Ben stopped crying and looked hopefully at Tyler. ‘Let’s get off shall we and then we can do it all again later’ he said, and Ben all tears forgotten jumped down off the seat without a murmur. Paul put his back against the edge of the automatic doors so that they wouldn’t close on us and thankfully we all got off the train with Ben not wishing to hold my hand but holding on tightly to Tyler’s.

  The mini drama now resolved we stood on the platform not quite sure which way to go but Ben decided to create a new drama by saying he needed the toilet. Seemingly unfazed by my family’s penchant for crisis Paul suggested we have a cup of tea in the coffee shop and juice for the kids, and a toilet break for anyone that needed it which was voted a good idea by everyone.

  As I waited in the toilet for Ben, Kate and Caitlin to finish and to supervise the washing of hands afterwards I thought to myself that I could get used to this, not the hanging around in toilets but the being with a bloke that took charge thing. It was all very well being a super hero single mum but it was rather nice being looked after and not being the one in charge for once. If only Martin could be more like that . . . but of course Martin was with Lindsey . . . maybe Martin did take charge with Lindsey, maybe he was only useless when he was with me . . . or maybe in time he’d be just as useless with Lindsey once the novelty had worn off. I wonder if she really was pregnant and if she was whose baby it was, was it Lenny’s or Martins?

  The dream life momentarily edged its way into my thoughts. I’d move in with Paul, we couldn’t live in the Almond Street house as it was way too small and had too many associated memories and anyway Paul wasn’t happy about living in what used to be my marital home. Paul wasn’t the man of my dreams but we got on well together and were good friends, he was hard-working, reliable, dependable, responsible. He was able to take charge, he was good with the children and in time I could learn to love him, it wouldn’t be hard. Caitlin and Tyler would spend every weekend with us and all the children would be best friends. In the meantime Martin would be shacked up with Lindsey in a squalid little bedsit, he’d still be unemployed and they’d live off benefits. Their baby would cry all the time because it was cold and hungry and Lindsey would be at her wits end trying to look after it and getting annoyed with Martin for not making any effort to improve their situation. Martin would be at his own wits end because Lindsey was so juvenile and hopeless at cooking and housework and keeping the baby quiet. And I would gloat at their misery from a distance in my big comfortable house that I shared with Paul.