One Day in December: The Christmas read you won't want to put down

by Shari Low

  ‘Cammy don’t be disgusting. Meringues are loaded with sugar. I’m not putting that in my mouth,’ she sneered.

  He should have seen that one coming. Change of tactic required. ‘But doesn’t it look great? Isn’t the presentation gorgeous?’

  ‘Whatever,’ she replied, and he saw her hand go towards her phone. He was about to lose her to Photoshop. Shit. There was nothing else for it. He delved into the sticky pudding, fished out the ring, and tried to overlook the fact that it was now adorned with a gooey substance. Then, he just went for it. Full traditional knee bend.

  ‘Lila, I love you – and I want to love you every day of our lives…’ No idea where that came from, but it was the best one yet. She seemed to think so too. She was staring at the ring, at him, back at the ring, then him… He could see she was shocked, astonished, couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

  Neither could he. After all the disasters and dramas today, it was finally working out just the way it was supposed to.

  Meanwhile, around them, the head-splitting volume had descended to near silence. Every set of eyes in the room were now on him. Kneeling there. Expectantly. In trousers that definitely weren’t meant to facilitate full movement of the knee joint. If she didn’t say yes soon, he was a shoo-in for DVT. No doubt Josie would claim that was yet another sign from the gods.

  Lila. Staring at the ring again. Still not answering his question.

  It was only then he realised that he hadn’t actually asked her.

  ‘Lila Anderson, will you marry me?

  Chapter 27

  Bernadette

  The whole way back from dropping off the last of her stuff at Sarah’s house, Bernadette had been running the same mantra in her mind: Please don’t let him be home yet.

  She wanted to be there, be prepared, be in control of the situation, not walking into a confrontation because he’d already guessed what was happening.

  Please don’t let him be home yet.

  It was well after eight, but it wouldn’t be unusual at all for him to be delayed this late.

  Please don’t let him be home yet.

  They stopped at the traffic lights around the corner from the end of her street.

  Please don’t let him be home yet.

  They turned, her house was just up ahead on the right now.

  Please don’t let him be home yet.

  Ken’s car was in the driveway.

  He was home.

  As they drew to a stop outside the house, Sarah saw it too. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come in? Or to wait for you? You don’t have to do this alone, Bernie.’

  ‘I know,’ Bernadette replied. ‘But I do really, for me. This is between Ken and I. It’s why I didn’t want the kids here either. If anyone else was here, I’ll be too worried about them to say the things that need to be said.’

  Sarah tried again. ‘You know you don’t have to worry about keeping things from me, though, Bernie. I’ve seen everything that’s happened. I know the truth of what you’ve been dealing with.’

  ‘I know that, lovely, and thank you,’ Bernadette replied gently, ‘but part of walking away is knowing that I am finally standing up to him, taking responsibility for my future and having the strength to do it on my own. So I’m going to go in there,’ Bernadette steeled herself to go on, ‘I’m going to tell him I’ve left him and then I’m going to get in my car and drive away, and I won’t look back. Not even once.’ It sounded so easy when she said it like that, but her confident tone belied the butterflies in her stomach.

  Sarah leaned over and hugged her, squeezing her tightly. ‘You can do this. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.’

  Bernadette knew it wasn’t true. ‘Strong would have been walking away from him years ago,’ she argued, ruefully.

  ‘Strong is staying in a crap situation because you feel it’s what’s best for your family,’ Sarah countered.

  Bernadette didn’t carry on the debate. She’d often wondered how she’d have reacted if Kenneth had been openly abusive, or physically harmed her? Would she have left then? She was sure she would have. There was no way she’d have allowed her children to be brought up in that environment. Somehow, though, because she was the only one affected by his behaviour, she’d decided, somewhere along the line, that she could tolerate it in order to give her children a life with their father. Now, with the benefit of detachment and hindsight, she could see how ridiculous that was, how it was a shocking testimony to her feelings of low self-esteem, how he’d broken her down to the point where her own happiness didn’t matter to her. How many times had she tended to victims of domestic abuse, and told them they deserved to be happy, to live their lives free of suppression or pain? Yet she was the one who had not been able to live by that advice.

  It would always be a regret, but not one that she would dwell on. She had too much living to do.

  She hugged Sarah again, then climbed out of the van and walked up her driveway. From the outside of the house she could see that the lights in the front rooms were not on, but there was a faint glow from the back of the house. He was in the kitchen then. With a heavy heart and a trembling hand, she put her key in the door and pushed it open.

  Be strong, she told herself, repeating another line of the encouragement she’d given to so many other women, and a few men too, over the years.

  She walked down the hall, through into the kitchen, and there he was, sitting at the table, typing something on his laptop.

  Chest palpitations were thudding as he stopped, looked up at her.

  ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘With Sarah,’ she replied, trying desperately to gauge his mood. Did he know? Had he been upstairs and noticed her stuff missing from the wardrobe? He was dressed in his suit, having driven his car back from the hospital instead of cycling, just like he did every Friday. On Monday morning, he’d drive in, with his bike attached to the back, and then cycle home, leaving his car at the hospital for the week, biking back and forth every day. Bernadette had never questioned why – quizzing Kenneth was something she preferred to avoid – but she had a sneaking suspicion it was so the car was always there, in his named space at the hospital door, serving two purposes – first, it would make him look like he was so dedicated that he was first in and last out every day. And secondly, it meant that Bernadette couldn’t use it while he was at work. Not that she ever would. Flash cars like that just made a driver look desperate for attention, as far as she was concerned. She much preferred her Fiat – even more so because Ken hated the sight of it and went on and on about it lowering the tone of their driveway. Pretentious arse.

  He was just staring at her now, telling her nothing. Of course, he’d be furious that he’d come home to an empty house. If she wasn’t working, he expected her to be there, waiting for him when he walked in the door. It was Friday, so he liked to eat out, to go to one of the nicer restaurants in the city, where he’d smile and shake hands with acquaintances and show that he was a man of cosmopolitan habits, while the waiting staff gave impeccable service in return for a generous tip. The whole world thought this guy was something. Only Bernadette knew he was nothing.

  She felt unsettled, unsure of her next move, unable to gauge where she was with this. She decided to go for it. Pull the Band Aid off.

  ‘Kenneth, I need to talk to you,’ she said calmly. Reasonably. For all he knew it could be about the weather or a blocked drain.

  ‘Is it about the thirty grand you stole from me today?’

  Her pulse went into overdrive. Oh dear God. He knew.

  He turned his laptop around and she could see that he was on the online banking website. Hopefully that meant he’d just discovered it and hadn’t had time to think things through.

  Bernadette sat down at the table and took a deep breath, mustering every ounce of strength she possessed. ‘I did not steal it from you, Kenneth. That was my money too. My salary goes into that account.’

  He fixed her with a chilling s
tare. ‘Did Nina or Stuart need it? Was it some kind of emergency?’

  Oh Jesus, he was still deathly calm. This was the worst bit, right before the storm, when he would listen to her, as if taking symptoms from a patient, before delivering some brutal diagnosis.

  ‘No, I took it for me.’ Death knell about to be rung. ‘Kenneth, I’m leaving. And the way that I see this, you have two choices:

  You can let me go and accept the situation. I’m taking no more than that money. A fair deal after thirty years of marriage.

  Or you can rant and rave and try to intimidate me into staying, but I won’t, so you’ll be wasting your breath.’

  He did the last thing she expected. He laughed. ‘Of course you’re not fucking leaving,’ he countered, as if she’d just said something completely preposterous.

  Okay Bernadette, regroup. Be firm. Don’t let yourself be cowed.

  ‘Oh, I am, Kenneth – and there’s no point in talking it through or giving reasons, or shouting and screaming, because it’s happening and that’s it. Let’s end this peacefully.’

  His top lip curled, a cruel gesture she’d seen way too many times before. ‘Is there someone else? That’s it. You’re fucking someone else.’ For a man who kept up the pretence of dignity and decorum, he wasn’t above getting crude when it served his purposes. Bernadette knew if she challenged him, returned the attitude, it would escalate so much quicker, so she kept calm, absolutely still, like she was in the presence of a viper that was hissing, ready to bite.

  ‘Trust me, Kenneth, the last thing I want in my life is another man, so let’s focus on the reality. Like I said, I want nothing else from you. I’ve been miserable for years, and I can’t do it any more so I’m going to go now. This conversation is over.’

  She moved forward, about to push herself up, when his fist came down on the table so hard the whole structure shook.

  ‘Sit down,’ he roared. ‘You’re not going anywhere. Don’t be so fucking ridiculous. Leave me? I’m all you’ve got. You’ve got nothing if you’re not my wife. Don’t think for a minute those kids will stand by you, because they’ll turn their backs on you just like I should have done years ago. Years ago!’

  Every single word stung like a hot poker on her seared flesh, but she remained standing.

  ‘You need me more than I need you, you hopeless bitch. Now. Sit. The. Fuck. Back. Down.’

  ‘No,’ she said, quite simply. What was he going to do? Drag her back? Much as he was cruel, and vile and an unashamed bully, he’d never actually harmed her and she didn’t fear him physically.

  His eyes widened with rage. ‘Don’t you dare walk out that fucking door,’ he roared again. It barely registered because she knew it didn’t matter anymore. She was leaving him and his abuse behind. Enough.

  She took her keys out of her pocket, threw them on the table, turned and began to walk, stopping only when he spoke again. ‘Bernie…’ That was more of a shock than anything else. The shouting, the intimidation, the abuse, she expected. But he hadn’t called her ‘Bernie’ in over two decades. Now it was always Bernadette. Or bitch. What was even more astonishing than what he said, was how he said it. He’d flicked the anger off and now he was tender, convivial, trying to placate her.

  ‘Don’t leave,’ he said. ‘Bernie, we can talk about this, work something out.’

  His change in tone was having no affect on her whatsoever, but she was curious to hear what angle he would come from next. ‘Why?’

  That took him off guard and it took him a few moments to answer.

  ‘Because we’ve got thirty years of history and two children, grandchildren, a future with our family.’

  This was the kind of emotional manipulation he excelled at. The anger didn’t work, the control was slipping, so he was going for any other route he could take to change her mind. She was trying not to rise to white hot fury and lay it all out for him – the abuse, the control, the rages - but that would be sinking to his level.

  ‘But no love,’ she said, then watched as he had a sudden moment of realisation that he should have led with that.

  ‘Of course we have love!’

  ‘No, we don’t, Kenneth. For as long as I can remember, you’ve controlled me, bullied me, treated me with cruelty and disdain, and – God forgive me – I’ve let you. There’s been no love between us for a long, long time. Sometimes I wondered why you stayed with me, because lord knows, you had other options. But we both know the truth – this is how you get your kicks. You need to be the big guy. To be in control. To get a rush from dominating me. It’s what gets you off, isn’t it? No more. I’m out. I wish you well, Kenneth, I really do. I hope you have an excellent life. But it’ll be one without me in it.’

  Her pulse was still thumping, as once again, she started walking towards the door, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up in both fear and an overwhelming sense of relief. She was almost out. Almost.

  ‘You get back here, you stupid bitch!’ he growled, fury spitting from every word. ‘Because trust me, I will destroy you. I will ruin your fucking life. I’ll make sure the kids never want to have anything to do with you again. There is nothing, NOTHING, I won’t do to make you see that this is the biggest mistake of your fucking, miserable, worthless life, until you come crawling back to me, begging me to take you back.’

  ‘I don’t think so, Dad.’ The voice made Bernadette freeze, her focus going to the corner of the room, behind Kenneth. Stuart. He was there at the back door, Nina beside him, and from the expressions on their faces, she knew that they’d heard it all and that realisation destroyed her. Their whole lives she’d protected them from knowing this side of him, and now they’d just seen it in all its Technicolor glory.

  ‘Wasn’t sure if the back door would be open. Glad it was, otherwise we might have missed that little speech Dad.’ Nina said dryly, clearly struggling to contain her anger. The kids had never used the front door – force of habit from the days they’d be in and out a dozen times.

  This was a sight that had never greeted them before, and Nina was clearly bristling. She had always been a daddy’s girl, strong, vocal, not one to let anyone mess her around. Now that was biting Kenneth on the arse.

  ‘I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have heard…’ Bernadette started to apologise.

  ‘But we did, Mum,’ Nina replied.

  Bernadette could see that it had destroyed her to know that the man she’d looked up to her whole life could behave that way.

  Like a trapped animal, desperate to find a way out, Kenneth immediately went on the defensive. ‘You don’t understand. You’re mother, she… Look, she presses my buttons and I just said a couple of things I didn’t mean. All couples do. Just one of those things. You don’t get to be married for thirty years and not have spats like this.’

  ‘Spats?’ Stuart blurted, incredulous. ‘You’re an even bigger dick than I thought…’

  ‘Who the hell do you think you are, you little jumped-up shit…?’

  ‘Kenneth!’ Bernadette spat, and this time the fury was all hers. ‘Don’t you dare speak to our son like that. Don’t you bloody dare or I swear I will kill you myself.’ The vehemence in her voice took every single person in the room by utter shock. Bernadette decided it was time to take the higher ground. ‘I’m going to leave now. We’re done.’

  ‘Mum, wait,’ Nina blurted, and Bernadette’s heart sank. She’d thought during their chat this morning that Nina had accepted what was happening, but now it seemed she was going to have a go at persuading her otherwise. This was exactly why she hadn’t wanted the kids to be a part of this. It wasn’t their battle and they didn’t know enough about the background to fully understand why there was no possibility that she would reconsider. However, Nina had asked her to stop, so she did, and now she was standing in the doorway, desperate to get this over with. Her gaze went to the clock on the cooker. Five minutes to ten. Five more minutes and she wanted, no needed, to be gone.

  ‘Dad, I just wanted to say we he
ard how you just spoke to Mum. We will never choose you, we will never allow you to play us off against her, and I swear to God, if I ever hear you speaking that way about her, or to her, you’ll never see either of us again. Do you understand?’

  ‘Nina, you don’t have to…’ Bernadette tried to cut her off, still unwilling to put them in the middle of this.

  ‘But I want to, Mum. It’s been a long time in coming.’ She turned back to her father. ‘Both of us are beyond proud of what Mum’s doing and we support her. That doesn’t mean we’re choosing her over you, but it does mean that we want her to be happy and we know that to do it she needs to leave you. I can’t speak for Stuart, but I’d still like you to be in my life, in the kids’ lives too, but only if you treat Mum with respect, because I don’t want to be walking on eggshells every time you’re both invited to a school show or a football match. Oh, and you’ll give Mum half the value of the house. It’s the least she deserves. That’s the terms, Dad. Take it or leave it.’

  Bernadette waited for the explosion. Kenneth hated to be told what to do, hated ultimatums even more. Surprisingly, he said nothing. Not a word. Just stared ahead, until he finally lifted his gaze to meet Bernadette’s. ‘There nothing I can do to change your mind?’

  ‘No.’ As she said it, it felt like a physical weight was being lifted from her shoulders.

  He shifted his gaze to Nina. ‘I understand. You don’t need to worry – I won’t argue any further.’

  ‘Good,’ she said, with a forced air of positivity.

  Stuart spoke now. ‘Let’s go, Mum – I’ll walk you to your car.’

  ‘Do you want me to stay, Dad?’ Nina asked him, and Bernadette was grateful for that. She didn’t want him sitting on his own, brooding, getting angry.

  ‘No, it’s fine.’

  ‘Okay, well I’ll call you tomorrow and check in, but you know where I am if you change your mind.’

  How did these kids get to be so smart and mature? She had desperately wanted them to stay away tonight, but perhaps in hindsight it was good that they’d come. Now everyone knew where they stood. No more lies, no more covering up, everything out in the open.