‘Any news?’
‘A bit… we talked about moving in together yesterday.’
‘That’s amazing! What did you say?’
‘Nothing in particular, just a vague discussion about whether it might happen some time in the future.’
‘And?’
‘We both want to. So I guess it may happen sooner rather than later!’
‘That’s so exciting!’
‘I know. The very first time I would let someone into my flat.’
‘Would it be your flat?’
‘Actually I don’t know. He has an awesome place too. I suppose we’d have to draw straws!’
They were interrupted by the arrival of two cappuccinos, complete with heart-shaped dustings of chocolate. ‘How are the children?’ Rosie asked.
‘Bella and Max are both doing well, Flora not so much. The headteacher called me in last week. Apparently she has told her teacher that she’s worried me and Charlie separating is her fault.’
‘Oh, poor little thing.’ Rosie’s beautifully groomed brow furrowed with concern.
‘Charlie is going to have a talk with her this weekend. We’ve had a chat too. I think we just need to keep reassuring her that it is nothing to do with her, and hopefully sooner or later she’ll accept it.’
The waitress brought over their smashed avocado and poached eggs, accompanied by rounds of sourdough toast. They were going to the National Gallery afterwards so they needed some energy. To stop herself from feeling miserable without the children Tasha had drawn up some touristy things she’d like to tick off her list, things she had always wanted to do but never quite got around to. She wanted to make the most of her newly acquired free time, and she hadn’t been to the National Gallery for years and years. Of course, she had done lots of galleries, museums and landmarks with the children, but it was completely different taking three small people along for the ride. Without them, she and Rosie wandered around at their own pace, uninterrupted. Tasha relished the peace and quiet.
Before she knew it, it was Monday morning and the first day of her new job. Dawn unveiled a bright, clear day as Tasha sipped her coffee in the garden. She had barely slept. The nerves had really set in and her mind had whirred all night, dreaming about her return to the world of work.
Emily came over at the agreed time of 8 a.m. and Tasha ran through her instructions for one final time. She had risen earlier than usual to shower and dress before rousing the children, giving them breakfast and beginning the process of getting them ready for school, to be completed by Emily. Closing the door on the noise and chaos behind her, having wished Emily the best of luck, she took a deep breath in and tried to quell the nervous butterflies that were fluttering wildly inside her. She glanced at Javier’s front door. The lights were on; he had probably just got home from a night shift. Focussing straight ahead, she walked briskly towards the Tube, her stomach churning.
It felt unbelievably strange to be one of the many commuters surging down the steps and onto the platform once again. There was a buzzing energy that felt almost palpable, the cumulation of so many people with a shared sense of purpose. She stood in the crowded carriage and read the paper as the train took her into the City. Emerging into the outside world once again, she walked to the offices of Pearson Gregory. Gathering her strength, she took a deep breath and pushed through the glass doors, heading for the reception desk to introduce herself.
There was so much to take in, from the telephone system to the computers, the photocopier to the coffee machine. She was grateful to Deborah, the PA she was replacing, who, despite being the exhausted owner of an eye-wateringly large bump, did an excellent job of showing her the ropes.
‘So, what’s Katherine like to work for?’ Tasha asked.
‘She is actually very reasonable, in comparison with some people I’ve worked for,’ Deborah replied. This was music to Tasha’s ears. ‘So long as you’re efficient, and an excellent multitasker, you should be fine.’
‘Great!’ Tasha smiled. She felt slightly out of her depth and way outside her comfort zone yet at the same time she felt a renewed sense of energy and purpose. It was completely different from her previous job, yet she found this new world strangely appealing. She knew that in a matter of time all the new information she was struggling to absorb would become second nature. She just had to get through the first few weeks without collapsing into tears, then she would be fine. She tried her best to maintain an exterior of calm competence, even as she scribbled notes all over the comprehensive handover file Deborah had prepared for her. ‘Fake it till you make it’ was the phrase that kept popping into her mind.
When five o’clock finally arrived, Tasha joined the throng of commuters heading away from the City. She felt thoroughly worn out. Her feet ached in her heels and her head spun with information.
‘So how did it go?’ Chloe asked.
Tasha had called her as soon as she came above ground from the Tube, desperate to talk to someone about her first day. ‘All in all, I’d say it could have gone a lot worse. I think I bluffed it well enough.’
‘That’s brilliant. Well done! Are you exhausted?’
‘Absolutely shattered.’
‘Did it feel weird not being with the kids?’
‘Not too bad. I can’t wait to see them now though.’
‘Good for you, sis,’ Chloe said. ‘I’m proud of you. What’s your boss like? Did you meet her?’
‘Yup, I met her this afternoon. She actually seems nice. Quite normal. She’s got kids of her own so hopefully she’ll be reasonable if there are any childcare issues.’
‘That’s a relief.’ They talked as she walked, discussing Ella’s recent email home and Chloe’s new cohort of geography students.
Tasha hung up the phone as she turned the key in the lock at precisely 5.45 p.m. She was relieved to hear the sound of happy chatter coming from the kitchen. Emily seemed to be running a military operation. Neatly completed homework was laid out in three piles on top of the children’s bookbags along with reading diaries open at the correct page so that Tasha could check the comments. The children were eating pasta and pesto with peas for their dinner.
‘Wow!’ Tasha exclaimed, as she surveyed the scene. ‘It looks like you’ve had a good afternoon,’ she said, a note of question in her voice aimed towards Emily.
‘It’s been fine, thanks! I think!’ Emily laughed. She did seem a touch frazzled.
‘The pasta bag spilled all over the floor,’ Max informed her.
‘We decided to cook it anyway because Emily said the germs would be killed in the hot water,’ Bella said.
‘Sorry,’ Emily apologised, wincing slightly. ‘I hope that’s OK with you.’
‘Of course!’ Tasha smiled. ‘It’s good for the immune system.’
‘We were learning about germs in science today,’ Flora said. ‘Did you know there are over ten thousand types of bacteria?’
‘And I got my finger trapped in the loo door at the end of PE.’ Max showed her his bandaged index finger with pride.
‘Mrs Nicholson said I’ve got to practise the recorder more, Mum,’ Bella added.
‘We’ve got to do an assembly on Friday on evacuees,’ Flora continued.
They were all so keen to fill her in on their day, Tasha couldn’t help but laugh.
‘One at a time!’ she begged. ‘I can’t concentrate if you all talk at once!’
‘Right, I think I’ll head off now if that’s OK?’ Emily asked, no doubt desperate to make her escape.
‘Absolutely. Thank you so much,’ Tasha said. ‘You are an absolute superstar. I mean it. See you tomorrow. Say goodbye,’ she instructed Max, Bella and Flora.
‘Bye, Emily,’ they chorused as she picked up her bag and gave them a cheery wave.
‘And thank you,’ Tasha said.
‘Thank you!’ they chanted.
‘See you in the morning!’ Emily called as she walked out.
Tasha turned her attention back to the chil
dren for a full debrief. She didn’t have another moment to herself until about eight o’clock, when all the children were finally settled. Comatose with exhaustion, she sat on the sofa with a bowl of soup. Emily hadn’t cooked enough pasta for her to have leftovers and she had no energy whatsoever to come up with anything more ambitious than tipping a tin of Heinz tomato soup into a pan. She flicked on the television and settled back to watch the Great British Bake Off.
Halfway through the programme Charlie rang. As always when she saw his caller ID her heart leapt into her throat as if it were the first time he had ever called her.
‘How was it?’ he asked.
‘Exhausting but good,’ she said. ‘I just hope I didn’t make any cock-ups. There’s a lot to learn.’
‘I bet. And were things OK with Emily?’
‘She seems amazingly competent. I think it’s going to work out really well with her.’
‘Great! Sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk to you last night.’ When he had dropped the children off Tasha had hoped that he’d be able to stay and tell her about his talk with Flora but he had had to rush off.
‘No problem,’ she said. She wanted to ask where he had been in such a hurry to get to on a Sunday evening but didn’t quite have the nerve. What if he said something she didn’t want to hear?
‘Did you have a good weekend?’
‘It was great. Nice to see Andrew before he goes.’
‘And did you manage to have a chat with Flora?’
‘Yes. I did as you suggested and we went for a walk, just the two of us.’
‘Good, I bet she loved that. So how did she seem?’
‘I think she is OK. But she is definitely anxious.’
‘I did some more research over the weekend. Apparently it’s a very common reaction for children to blame themselves. It seems we are doing the right thing. Consistency and continuous reassurance is crucial.’ There was a clatter in the background. ‘Is everything OK?’ she asked, wondering what the noise could have been.
Charlie cleared his throat. ‘What? Oh, yes, something… fell over. It’s nothing.’
‘Are you at home?’
‘Yes. Look, Tasha, I’ve actually got to go… I’ll call the children tomorrow, OK?’
‘Oh, right. OK.’
Within seconds Charlie had hung up the phone. A feeling of discomfort spread throughout Tasha’s body, prickling at her skin. Had there been someone else in his flat with him? Hot tears sprung into her eyes as her imagination went into overdrive. Was he seeing someone? Was that why he’d had to rush off yesterday? She couldn’t bear the thought. The idea of another woman being anywhere near him made her panic. She had been hoping that he was pining after her, taking his time to process what had happened, working towards coming back to her. But what if she was completely wrong? What if he had been preparing himself, not to give their relationship another chance, but to start a new one? What if he had meant what he said? The trust was gone… Why would he stop himself meeting someone else? God knew he was eligible enough to be snapped up. Tasha knew more than anyone just how lucky any woman would be to have him.
Dread and nausea churned in her stomach as her mind stormed with thoughts. She tried to calm them by reasoning that she had no proof whatsoever that this was the case. It could have been a precariously balanced pan on the sink, and nothing more. Or a friend who had come over for dinner. Besides, she had given up her right to be privy to the goings-on in his life the moment she had broken their wedding vows. She had to let it go.
‘What can I do to get him back?’ she asked Rosie, half an hour later. She had lost the battle to remain calm, deciding to call Rosie to seek her advice instead. ‘I can’t risk him meeting someone new, Rosie. I just can’t bear it.’
‘I know. That would be unbelievably shit. But don’t worry. We’ll think of something…’
‘But what?’ Tasha was panicking. ‘The more pressure I put on him, the further he is going to withdraw. I need to persuade him somehow that I am still the one, that even though I fucked up massively I am worth coming back to. But how? When I don’t even believe that it is true.’
‘Come on, Tasha. You have to believe it!’
‘But I’m honestly not sure that I do. Maybe he would be better off with someone else.’
‘You can’t possibly think that. You are the mother of his children. There is nowhere better for him to be than with you.’
‘I feel like it’s all slipping away. Or that it already has… that I’m too late. I should never have let him leave in the first place.’
‘You couldn’t have stopped him. It was his decision to separate, remember?’
Tasha sighed. ‘I feel as though I’m trapped in a nightmare.’
‘We’ll get you through this,’ Rosie said. ‘I promise.’
‘So, what shall I do?’
Rosie was quiet for a moment or two. ‘You know, the best thing you can do, as far as I can see, is work on being happy yourself. Take care of yourself, embrace your new job, your new life away from the family home. Work on fixing all the problems that brought you here in the first place. Try to make yourself as happy as you can possibly be. When Charlie sees the change, he might be drawn back to the Tasha he first met and fell in love with all those years ago.’
She nodded her head. ‘I guess so,’ she said. Rosie’s advice rang in her ears as she tidied up the kitchen and laid out the breakfast things ready for the following morning. She was right. What other choice did she have? But for now, it was about all she could manage to climb up the stairs, check on the children, and crawl into bed. She would get on with being the best version of herself in the morning.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Tasha’s phone vibrated in her pocket just as she was doing her best to arrange a complicated conference call across multiple time zones. Her heart sank as she saw the caller had been the children’s school. Not wishing to be seen using her mobile phone at her desk, she scurried out to the ladies and listened to the message. Sure enough, Mrs Hemmingway’s kindly voice echoed down the receiver. She was being summoned. Again. Only this time, it wasn’t Flora Mrs Hemmingway was concerned about. It was Max.
She called the school and was put through to Mrs Hemmingway by the secretary.
‘I’m afraid I can’t make it in to see you this afternoon,’ Tasha explained. ‘I’ve actually gone back to work, so I’m no longer doing drop-off and pickups.’
‘Ah, I see.’ Mrs Hemmingway’s less-than-enthusiastic reaction made her worry that she should have informed the school about this additional change in her circumstances.
‘I’m sorry,’ she added hastily. ‘I probably should have told you. It’s just that it all happened so quickly!’
‘Not to worry, Mrs Hargreaves.’ Tasha felt sure that, despite this reassurance, she was being judged as an incompetent mother.
‘Is Max OK? Could we possibly discuss whatever’s happened over the telephone instead?’ Tasha asked.
‘Yes, it’s not a problem. Though if we have any more incidents then we might have to have a chat in person.’
‘Gosh. It all sounds rather serious. What is it that he has done exactly?’
‘I’m afraid he’s been acting a little… forcefully, shall we say, with his peers. He’s been getting into trouble rather frequently, especially at playtimes. And today he pushed another child in the lunch queue.’
Tasha’s heart sank. ‘Oh dear,’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to him when I get home.’
‘It is important that Max knows we’re all “singing from the same hymn sheet”, so to speak,’ Mrs Hemmingway continued.
‘I quite understand.’
‘It would be very helpful if you could have a general chat about how violence is unacceptable no matter how he is feeling inside, that taking it out on another person is never the way to deal with his emotions.’
‘Of course.’ Tasha felt as if she was the one being told off.
‘We’ve suggested that he wri
tes down any feelings and puts them in the teacher’s worry box. Perhaps you could start a worry box at home too?’ Tasha had no idea what a worry box was. No doubt she probably should know already.
‘Absolutely,’ Tasha said. ‘What is a worry box, exactly?’
‘Just an old tissue box or something will do. He can decorate it himself perhaps. And a notepad by the side. The idea is that when he feels upset he can write down whatever is bothering him and put it away in the worry box. That way you can read it and talk to him about it, whilst at the same time he can relax knowing that it is “off his chest”, if you see what I mean? We’ll see how it goes but it usually helps children who are going through… a tricky time.’
Tasha hung her head in shame. ‘That sounds like a great idea. I will get onto it this weekend, when we have some time together.’
Mrs Hemmingway seemed pleased with Tasha’s response to the problem, ending the call with the usual pleasantries. Tasha wanted to phone Charlie straight away but her to-do list seemed never-ending and the minutes were ticking by alarmingly quickly before her scheduled five o’clock departure. She ploughed through as many tasks as she could manage: filing, binding, printing and photocopying, all the while trying not to worry about the mental state of her children.
At a quarter to five she got stuck on the phone trying to rebook a cancelled flight for Katherine later that evening, resulting in her running late to get back to relieve Emily, who had plans of her own and had already reminded Tasha that she needed a prompt handover so as not to be late herself.
She called Emily as soon as she came up from the Tube. ‘I’m so sorry. I’ll be there as quickly as I can,’ she said, running as fast as her heels allowed her. She turned into Havers Street and rushed towards the front door. She could see the children peering out of the window. Emily flung open the front door, coat already on, handbag over her shoulder, clearly relieved to see Tasha at long last. As Tasha crossed the road the heel of her shoe suddenly broke, her foot twisted and the ground flashed up to her face as she fell forwards onto the pavement. The contents of her handbag flung themselves all over the place.
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