‘Actually, I think you will find that I do have another job, funnily enough,’ Charlie had replied, his sarcasm doing nothing to quell her irritation.
‘I’ve been reminding you for months.’
‘And I will do it. I’ve told you. Now leave it.’
She had been fighting back emotion throughout the course of lunch, absurdly close to tears and unsure why. Now, finally alone, she let the tears roll down her cheeks freely. Taking a deep breath, she looked around her. She tried to stay present, to savour the effect of the dappled light as it sprinkled through the leaves. It was silent apart from the odd chirrup. Alone with her thoughts, Tasha was forced to admit just how unhappy she felt. It had been building up slowly but surely for months now, this feeling of frustration, of dissatisfaction. She swung between moods in the blink of an eye, veering from joyous happiness and love for her three children to feelings of intense claustrophobia, irritation and resentment at the endless monotony of being a full-time mum. She was trying not to begrudge Charlie his freedom, but she could feel herself losing the battle, becoming more short-tempered and less tolerant of his uselessness around the house, his lack of attention.
Pulling herself together, Tasha rummaged in her pocket for a tissue and blew her nose. She wiped her eyes and took a steadying breath, filling her lungs with the smell of damp earth and fresh air. Tasha knew she needed to talk things through with Charlie. She needed to tell him how she was feeling. It was madness that she was sitting here, alone in the middle of a wood, crying her eyes out. Charlie had no idea that she was so mentally unhinged. She vowed that she would address her feelings that evening and talk to him. Rosie had been right, she always felt better when they had discussed whatever was bothering her. She wanted to bring up missing Steph’s engagement drinks; she knew she should have dealt with it better at the time but it wasn’t too late to do so now. It would give her the perfect opportunity to talk through some of the dissatisfaction she was feeling. Perhaps they could even talk about her going back to work, whether retraining as a GP or to do something new. She just wanted him to listen to her, to support her.
*
That evening they went up to their room after a delicious meal with Lizzie and Bertie; both of them had had a few glasses of wine and she was feeling much more relaxed.
‘Charlie?’ she said, as they got into bed.
‘Yes?’
‘Before you go to sleep, there’s something I want to talk to you about.’
‘Right…’ He turned to face her, clearly trying to work out what she might be about to say.
‘I know I should have said something at the time, but I felt too annoyed to talk calmly.’ Charlie looked blank. She continued, ‘The evening when I was meant to be going to Steph’s?’
At this Charlie rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. ‘For God’s sake! You aren’t still going on about that, are you?’ Hardly the reaction she had been hoping for. The repressed feelings inside her welled up like a tide and overflowed.
‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’ Her eyes filled with tears, which she furiously instructed to beat a hasty retreat.
‘I told you on the phone at the time that I was sorry. It was not my fault. Do you think I want to be stuck at work for hours on end, Tash? I would much rather have been home drinking wine in front of the TV.’
This incensed Tasha even more. She hadn’t meant the conversation to go like this, but he had jumped straight into the deep end. ‘How hard would it have been to send me a text? Surely that’s not too much to ask?’
‘Business meetings don’t really work like that,’ Charlie said. ‘I suppose it’s hard for you to understand…’
By this point Tasha was smarting. ‘Don’t patronise me,’ she warned through gritted teeth, mindful of Flora and Bella who were sharing a room next door. ‘Of course I understand what a business meeting is like. I’m trying to talk sensibly about this and you are just making snide remarks. For God’s sake, will you just grow up?’
‘I’m the one that needs to grow up? You have one night where you can’t see your friends and you are acting as if it is the end of the world!’
‘It’s not the end of the world, Charlie. It was important to me. The fact that you can’t see that is seriously worrying.’
‘Well, I’m not worried. I got stuck in a meeting. Yes, it would have been great if I had been able to call you with enough time to arrange childcare but we both know how unpredictable my job is. I’m sorry you missed out but it’s in the past now. You can rearrange another dinner and we can book a babysitter as backup if I can’t get home… I don’t mind paying for childcare if it keeps us from having this conversation again and again.’
‘You are missing the point. It was that dinner I wanted to be at – to celebrate with all my friends…’
‘There’s no use harping on about it, Tasha.’
‘I’m not “harping on”, Charlie. I am trying to explain how I feel and you’re not trying to understand. You’re just jumping down my throat and treating me as if I am being pathetic.’
‘Look, I’m sorry, Tash. It was unfortunate, that’s all. Now let’s agree to forget about it.’
He pecked her on the cheek and closed his eyes. ‘Night, night,’ he said. ‘Sleep tight.’
That was clearly the end of it.
Tasha felt extremely unsatisfied. That hadn’t gone to plan at all. She had meant to have a sensible discussion and explain to Charlie how she was feeling at the moment, not just about that evening but about so much more than that. As she looked at Charlie she realised just how distant she felt from him. She knew that communication was the only way to bridge the gap but conversations like the one they’d just had did nothing but make her feel worse.
She watched Charlie as his breathing became regular and deep, the sound of him sleeping. His face couldn’t be more familiar, yet it felt strangely unfamiliar. She suddenly longed for her own space, to have her own bed and some time alone. There were no spare rooms in the cottage. She contemplated going downstairs and sleeping on the sofa but couldn’t risk her parents finding her and having to explain why she wasn’t in bed. She lay awake once again, staring at the ceiling. Her head was in a spin, her emotions running high. Her heart felt as if it was beating too fast, too heavily. Tears welled in her eyes once again. She took a deep breath and told herself not to be silly. She was fine. Her marriage was fine. She reminded herself that she was blessed to have a husband and three children who she loved more than anything in the world. She tried to quell her thoughts and drift off to sleep but Charlie’s words kept replaying over and over again in her head.
Chapter Seven
‘So, what do you think? Shall we go for it?’ Carlos looked at her expectantly. Tasha had sacrificed Pilates and lunch with Flo to finally get herself to the hairdresser. She had decided to go for a new, blonder look, realising it was high time she treated herself to a little pampering and hoping that a change in hair colour might help lift her spirits. She was still annoyed with Charlie after their irritating conversation on Saturday night and so had no qualms about spending a hefty whack on her card for a cut and highlights.
‘Let’s do it!’ Tasha said, nervous in anticipation of the end result.
Carlos had suggested a mixture of honey and golden tones. ‘And I think we might cut some nice long layers in – to give you some volume. Is that OK?’
‘Whatever you think is best.’
‘And maybe some shaping around the face?’
‘Go for it!’ Tasha laughed. ‘I am entirely in your hands.’
‘I promise you, you will look a million dollars by the time I am finished with you!’
Tasha sipped her complimentary coffee and read Hello magazine while Carlos worked his magic. It was lovely being forced to sit still for an hour or two with no chance of doing any housework. Since having children Tasha had even started enjoying her visits to the dentist, despite the pain, seeing them as an opportunity to lie back and have time out. This was much
better.
As Carlos unwrapped each silver foil packet and led her over to the sink she felt a frisson of excitement. Her hair had been the same mousey brown for years – there had been no time for highlights. After her hair had been washed, she watched in the mirror as he combed and snipped then dried her hair, running some delicious-smelling serum through the ends to finish.
‘What do you think?’ he asked, holding up the mirror to show her the back of her head.
‘I love it!’ She smiled, genuinely thrilled at the result. ‘Thank you so much!’
‘You are more than welcome. Enjoy your new colour – you know what they say about blondes, right?’ Carlos winked at her, taking her over to the till so that she could pay.
For the first time in years Tasha felt a spring in her step as she walked home. The blonde tones that Carlos had chosen seemed to complement her eyes somehow, making the dark blue stand out more than usual.
As Tasha approached her house she noticed Javier squatting down by his motorbike, which was parked practically outside her front door, fiddling with the back tyre. He seemed to be working a lot of night shifts lately, which meant he was around more during the day. Tasha had to admit she liked bumping into him.
‘Hi,’ he said, squinting against the sun as he looked up at her. His accent made even the simplest greeting sound exotic. He was wearing a crumpled white shirt with blue jeans. His skin seemed permanently olive brown no matter what the season.
‘Hi, Javier,’ Tasha said. ‘What are you doing down there?’
‘Checking the tyre pressure.’
‘Oh, right!’
‘New hair?’ he asked, standing up to look at her properly. She noticed for the first time how tall and broad he was.
Tasha felt herself blush to her roots. ‘I’ve just been to the hairdresser’s. I’m not sure… perhaps it’s too blonde…?’
‘You look beautiful,’ he said. He looked at her with such admiration she was almost inclined to believe him.
‘I’m not sure…’ she repeated. She didn’t know why she kept saying that. She loved her new hair but there was something about him that made her feel like a shy teenager.
‘I mean it,’ he said.
Tasha laughed. ‘I felt like it was time for a change.’
‘I always say the need for change is a powerful thing. We underestimate it at our peril.’
She looked up at him. His deep brown eyes were kind and honest. There was something very open about him, a sort of compassion perhaps. It made her want to share a bit more of herself with him. ‘I’ve been thinking something along those lines recently,’ Tasha admitted. ‘Things can feel a bit… repetitive, somehow, without it.’
Javier looked intrigued. Tasha suddenly worried that he might think she was referring to her marriage. She felt the need to assure him that she hadn’t been talking about Charlie, though the thought occurred to her that he might not be entirely mistaken if he had jumped to that conclusion. ‘I’ve been thinking about returning to work again,’ she added, by way of explanation.
‘Really? That’s so great!’ Javier smiled, showing genuine encouragement. ‘A colleague has recently returned after a break to raise her family. I think it’s quite a process… but definitely achievable.’
‘If I’m honest I’m just not sure that I want to go back to medicine.’
‘Why did you leave?’
‘For the children, mainly. Charlie and I both felt it was important that one of us was at home, and I was happy for it to be me. But that wasn’t the only reason. I had grown disillusioned with general practice. There is a side of me that loved it but a larger side that found it all too frustrating: the long hours, the lack of time. I felt like I was always doing a mediocre job, that I was letting patients down, as well as myself.’
‘You certainly aren’t alone in that respect.’
‘It must be a lot worse in A and E,’ Tasha sympathised.
‘Overstretched and understaffed, that’s our motto!’ Javier laughed wryly.
‘Full credit to you for persevering.’
‘Thank you. It’s worth it, at least for me… but then I have much less on my plate. I live alone, I don’t have any children…’
‘I suppose that makes a bit of a difference.’ She smiled at Javier. ‘Speaking of which, I’d better get on. I’ll leave you to your tyres,’ Tasha said, checking the time. She hadn’t eaten anything all day. The piece of toast she had intended to eat for breakfast had been abandoned as she’d tried to help Bella locate her recorder. Max had unhelpfully hidden the instrument underneath her bed, ‘as a joke’ apparently. Her stomach was rumbling. If she was quick she could grab something to eat while she checked her emails and scrutinised the school calendar. After forgetting about the Roman day, she had received a pointed note from Max’s teacher reminding her that all school activities were listed well in advance online. She was determined to log them all on her phone calendar to prevent any future mishaps.
Having said goodbye to Javier, she unlocked her front door and closed it behind her with a quick backward glance. He was still standing there, smiling at her.
Tasha looked in the mirror that hung in the hallway. Her navy blue eyes stared back, framed with mascara-covered lashes. Mascara was about the only make-up she got around to applying, if she had time for any at all. She wondered what Javier saw when he looked at her. She scrutinised her reflection. Her new hair fell in a glossy cascade down her back – if only she could always look so glamorous. She was wearing a blue and white wrap dress that she had rediscovered during her recent sort-out. Had he meant it? Was she beautiful? She had really lost her confidence since having children – never quite being able to shift that last stubborn bit of baby weight. Her skin bore the battle wounds of motherhood: stretch marks and the scar of the emergency Caesarean she had had to have when Max was born. Was it really possible that someone like Javier found her attractive? She replayed their conversation in her mind. She realised just how nice it had felt to be listened to. He had treated her as more than just a housewife, more than just a mother. With Charlie, that was all she ever felt like, as if she had lost her true identity somehow.
Chapter Eight
It didn’t help that, in direct contrast with Javier, Charlie had failed to even register a change in Tash’s appearance. She wouldn’t have been too surprised if he hadn’t realised that she had had a haircut, but a change in colour? Surely that was enough to at least receive a second glance? He had arrived home having played a game of squash and headed straight for the shower. She had cooked them a nice meal of salmon with chorizo and lentils, trying to make an effort in an attempt to draw a line under their argument on Saturday night. Charlie had sat opposite her at the kitchen table while they ate. Tasha had waited for a reaction… but to no avail. He had chatted away merrily, telling her about his day and asking about the children. She had almost brought it up but decided there was no point. He would tell her it looked lovely, but she would know that he hadn’t noticed. Instead she compared him with Javier: he had noticed immediately. How was it possible that a virtual stranger could see her more clearly than her own husband? Her bruised ego took comfort from Javier’s compliments.
The following Saturday it was Tasha and Charlie’s wedding anniversary. Tasha couldn’t believe how quickly twelve years had flown by. When she thought back to the person she had been when they first met she barely recognised herself. To think how far they had come. So many life-changing things had happened, most dramatically the arrival of their three children and the accompanying shift from married couple to frazzled parents that had followed. In a bid to make amends, still conscious that their relationship had been fraught with tension and irritability of late, Tasha had been planning a gift for Charlie for weeks. She was extremely pleased with her choice. The theme for the twelfth year of marriage was traditionally linen and silk so she had ordered a beautifully tailored linen jacket and a set of silk ties from his favourite shop in Jermyn Street, and she couldn’t wait to
give them to him. She hoped that their relationship would somehow be restored to its former glory in remembering their wedding day. It had been full of promise, excitement and that feeling of total confidence that no matter what life threw at them, they would conquer it together, that their love would be more than enough to carry them through.
They woke up to Max and Bella bounding into their room at an ungodly hour.
‘Wakey, wakey, rise and shine!’ Max chirped. Tasha opened a bleary eye and looked at them both standing in front of her. Bella was prodding her toes, her curly hair sticking up at bizarre angles. Max’s dimples were deep as he beamed at her; his freckles had really come out in the sun and his little rosebud lips were split into a dazzling smile revealing several missing teeth.
‘Come on, then,’ she relented, pulling back the cover. They squealed in delight and jumped into the bed.
‘Dad, please will you make us boiled eggs and soldiers for breakfast?’ Bella asked.
‘And then can we go to the cinema?’ Max implored as he clambered over Charlie. They chattered away excitedly about what they wanted to do with their weekend.
Soon Flora joined them too, the noise from her siblings having woken her. Tasha loved these rare moments with all of them so cuddly and sweet in their pyjamas – even Flora seemed more childlike and less prematurely adolescent. Remembering the present she had hidden under the bed, she got up and pulled it out, placing it with pride on Charlie’s lap. He looked at the parcel with the card attached in confusion. Rather than lighting up, his face fell as the cogs turned. Before he said anything, Tasha knew that he had forgotten. Never before had she needed him to show her just how much he still cared, that, despite the working late and the marital bickering, she was still all he wanted, all he needed. And yet it seemed he had failed to even remember the date. She felt unbelievably hurt. He had never forgotten their anniversary before.
The Distance Between Us Page 4