Fear

by Nina Manning

  31

  Now

  I ran along the corridor, my dress slightly hitched up, the scent of the aftershave clinging to me and the whispered warning still ringing in my ear: ‘Are you sure, Frankie, are you sure?’

  I didn’t stop running until I was at my door, a few moments from Mason’s, but as soon as I hit the key to the lock, I ran into the room, shut the door and leant my weight against it. I stabilised my breathing, threw my purse on the bed and walked to the bathroom where I turned on the shower full blast. I stripped and got under the almost scorching water and remained there until I felt calmer.

  Why did I feel so full of hatred? Was it because I knew I had initiated the move to Mason’s room, then the kiss? He said he had wanted it too. Maybe more than me. But then something had clicked, a distant faraway voice of Pixie or Maddox, I wasn’t sure, but they were there, my kids, my loves, the reason for everything. Whatever was happening with Damian and I, whatever he was doing or thinking, I couldn’t throw everything away.

  I sat on the bed in my towel and saw there was a text message. It was Mason.

  Everything is cool, Keegan. See you 8 a.m. sharp for breakfast meeting

  So, if he was able to just push all those feelings aside, then so must I.

  A few seconds later another text pinged through.

  Kids missing you

  Damian was doing his usual, removing his own feelings and projecting them through the kids.

  I knew I was a little drunk on champagne and I was incredibly tired. I needed to sleep. Damian was fine, the kids were fine.

  I didn’t do anything with Mason, that was the important thing, our lips met and then I panicked. I was swept away in a moment of lust, that was all.

  I had set my alarm for 7.30 a.m. as a precaution, thinking I would definitely wake up before then, but I did indeed wake as the alarm pounded its intrusive bleeping into the room. I pressed it off and automatically went to the messages to check there were none from Damian.

  I showered and dressed and was out of the door by 7.55 a.m.. As I closed my door Mason was walking towards me from his room, his brief case swinging next to him.

  ‘Morning, Keegan.’

  I closed my door. ‘Back to Keegan, is it?’ I said dryly.

  We looked at one another for a few seconds, his face looked so youthful today. I realised I was staring.

  Mason laughed and put his arm around me, a friendly hug this time. ‘Come on, let’s get you some breakfast.’

  We sat down in the dining room and Mason ordered us coffees. He began eagerly tapping on his phone, the first business messages of the day. Then he dropped his phone into his briefcase and looked at me.

  ‘Let me go and grab your daily intake of carbs this morning, you sit tight.’ He stood up and headed off to the breakfast buffet cart.

  The waiter came along and moved Mason’s chair in to get past. As he did, he knocked over Mason’s briefcase, sending a few items flying.

  ‘Oh, I am sorry, miss.’ The waiter stooped to begin picking things up.

  I shooed him away. ‘No, it’s fine, I’ll do it.’ I pushed my chair back, fell to my knees and stood the briefcase back up. I saw that a small diary, two pens and Mason’s mobile had fallen out. I gathered them up and went to drop the items back in, but as I did, I spotted another phone, a much smaller model. I looked up over the table and saw Mason still at the buffet bar so I lifted the second phone up and looked at it as I tried to piece together why Mason would have two phones. Surely one phone can carry all the information one man needed for work. I thought perhaps he used one for personal calls, but he had his one large phone at dinner and had received a text message from his mother. I was mulling over all this information when I looked up and saw that Mason was making his way back from the cart. I threw the stuff into the bag, stood up and brushed down my skirt.

  ‘Everything okay?’ Mason placed a plate of pastries, cheese and ham in the centre of the table.

  ‘Yes, fine, thanks,’ I said, forcing my face into a smile.

  Mason and I flew home in virtual silence, no doubt each of us wondering what the other one was thinking. I couldn’t think of any more things to say to him that I hadn’t already said before.

  We parted at the airport. Mason kissed me lightly on the cheek and brushed his hand against the side of my other cheek.

  ‘Look after yourself.’

  I smiled up at him and tried to disguise the tears that I knew were glistening in my eyes but it was too late, he had clocked them. I blinked and one fell. He wiped it with his thumb. I closed my eyes and he kissed me again on the other cheek. I thought to myself, this will be it, I will go back to Damian today and enjoy the rest of the weekend with my kids and come Monday I will have to forget that any of this happened between me and Mason. Because it was for the best. This was how it had to be. Anything else was too confusing.

  The kids came running like a herd of animals and almost bowled me over at the door. I paused there with them wrapped in my arms and just inhaled them. Damian stood behind them in the hallway, leaning against the wall. I stood up and then my senses were taken over by something else. I wasn’t sure but I thought I could smell cleaning products. I carried Maddox on my hip and Pixie skipped next to me wittering on about auditions for the Christmas school play.

  I entered the kitchen and was taken aback at the sight. It was spotless.

  ‘Kids have been fed,’ Damian said as he took in my expression. ‘I’ve booked Aimee to babysit, I thought we could go out and you could tell me all about your trip?’ I instantly felt deflated. I had thought about the trip all the way home, pushing out the bit where I discovered two phones in Mason’s briefcase. I realised it was entirely plausible that a man of Mason’s status would have two, maybe more, phones. And Damian telling me we were going out for dinner was the equivalent of him getting a pin and popping the balloon I had cocooned myself inside where only thoughts of Mason and the hotel and food and the streets of Liège were allowed. Now my feelings were as stark as the spotless kitchen I stood in, as I tried to deal with the reality of going out for dinner with my husband.

  ‘I’m tired, Damian. I’ve been travelling—’

  Damian butted in, ‘I know, I thought just a quick early dinner. We’ll be back by nine. I’ve booked Aimee already and she’s looking forward to it.’

  ‘It’s alarming, isn’t?’

  ‘Eh, what do you mean?’

  ‘That a girl of her age wants to spend so much time here with our kids, when she should be, I don’t know?’

  ‘Getting wrecked like you were, you mean?’

  I raised my eyebrows at Damian. ‘I was always fairly sensible compared to most, and you can hardly talk.’

  Damian moved around the kitchen island and straightened a few pamphlets as if to highlight again how well he had done while I was away.

  ‘Well, for whatever reason, Aimee enjoys spending time here. She likes us.’

  I thought about the zoomed in image of me and Damian on her laptop screen, and I wondered if she liked us a little too much. It hadn’t occurred to me before that she might have a little crush on Damian, or even me.

  ‘Okay, well, I’ll put the kids in the bath so they are ready for bed when Aimee gets here and then we can go. Why don’t you go and unpack and get ready?’ And then Damian gave me a half smile. He scooped the children up who immediately protested, then suddenly, I was alone in my very quiet and tidy kitchen.

  32

  Now

  I stood in our bedroom with my case from the trip and I thought how time was such a strange concept, neither real nor hypothetical and how it felt like only a second ago I was just here, packing to leave. I looked at the sheets. I could tell they had been replaced with clean ones while I was away, a job I had intended to do before I left. The scent of the floral washing powder was filling the room. I looked round and realised that it also looked tidier and cleaner than usual, which was such a rarity because it was the one room I just didn’t have
enough time to focus on and was usually a dumping ground for all our washing and anything that needed sorting out.

  I laid the case on the floor, opened it up and began to pull out the bits of washing that needed to go in the laundry basket when out of the corner of my eye I saw something glistening. I moved over on my knees and picked up a small pink studded earring with the back missing. I examined it for a moment or two, trying to ascertain when I could have dropped it, and then it occurred to me it wasn’t mine at all. I didn’t own any pink studded earrings.

  So if this earring didn’t belong to me, and Pixie didn’t have her ears pierced, it had to belong to another female. As I sat on the bedroom floor, which Damian hadn’t ever cleaned since we had got together, I didn’t need to spend too long trying to work out exactly what was going on here. I already had the image of Harriet from a few doors down in my head. Of course, he was shagging her, why wouldn’t he? And this dinner, this taking me out was obviously his way to cover up the guilt that he was shrouded in. I thought about the almost kiss I had with Mason and knew that whatever was happening with Damian and I right now and whomever this earring belonged to, she had been in my bedroom and that trumped my near miss with Mason.

  I sat opposite Damian in the restaurant as he fiddled with his beer and rattled on about all the activities he and the kids had got up to while I was away.

  We nibbled some olives and dipping bread and Damian asked about the trip. I made sure to make eye contact as I described the meetings, how well I did, how Mason was super impressed and in fact how I had surprised myself. I asked about the kids, if they had any play dates so I could establish when exactly Damian was able to shag another woman in our bed, but he assured me the kids had stayed with him the whole time. Apart from when they were at school, of course.

  ‘And your room was nice?’ Damian asked. How could he ask that when he knew exactly what he had been up to when I was away? But we continued to dance this routine of politeness, asking the right amount of questions to dig deep enough without alerting each other to the fact that neither of us trusted one another right now.

  ‘Yes, the room was lovely. Spacious. Comfy.’

  ‘Bet you didn’t want to come home?’ Damian gave a wry smile.

  ‘Well, I’m here,’ I said dipping a piece of bread into the pool of oil and vinegar.

  ‘Everything okay, the kids okay?’ Damian motioned to my phone on the table.

  ‘No word.’

  ‘Great.’ He looked around. ‘Mains should be here soon, I’m famished. Are you hungry?’

  I was not at all hungry.

  As Damian wittered on about a work project that was in the pipeline I barely listened. The waiter brought our food and we ate in near silence.

  When he had finished, he put his knife and fork together. ‘You’ve not eaten much,’ he commented.

  I looked down at my risotto, which had a small dent in it.

  ‘I’m just not hungry as I thought. Must be all that Belgian beer.’

  Damian eyed me over his glass of wine. ‘Oh really, you drank a lot of it then?’

  ‘A few.’ I looked towards the window.

  ‘Listen, Frank.’ I felt my stomach sink. Was this it, was he about to tell me what had happened? Did I need to prepare myself for breaking up, or was he about to beg for forgiveness and I needed to prepare myself for counselling and months more of awkward meals like this while we found ourselves again as a couple?

  ‘I’ve been thinking about stuff while you have been away. I guess your absence gave me the space to gain some perspective.’

  I swallowed hard. ‘Right.’

  ‘Well, yeah, I realised how things have started to evolve and realised how much the kids need you, they really missed you when you were gone and well, I just think I’m ready to go back into the workplace, you know, do a proper job. I can still keep tinkering away on these little projects but I know it’s been unfair of me to expect you to work all this time, even though I know you prefer it and it’s saved us a hell of a lot on childcare. Maddox starts school next year and I think it’s really important for one of us to be at home for them. I feel after I have done it all these years, I figured, maybe you’d like to be there for them. Maybe cut your hours, or look for something part time?’

  I played with a leftover piece of bread. ‘You want me to leave my job because you are suddenly geared up to go back to work all these years later when I have been holding the fort.’

  I looked at Damian and he looked back long and hard. His eyes seemed darker than ever. ‘Be careful up there, Frankie, it’s a long way to fall.’ He continued staring as though he was looking straight through me.

  ‘You can’t freak me out with your staring eyes, Damian. Why exactly should I be the one to quit, after everything I have done to climb the ladder to success while you sat around and contemplated your life for the last God knows how many years?’

  ‘You’re right.’ Damian put his glass of beer down firmly on the table. ‘You couldn’t hack being at home full time, which is why you were back at work as soon as you stopped breastfeeding. Your demons won’t allow you to sit at home with the kids. Especially in the winter, once the darkness sets in, you aren’t well enough. I see it in your eyes, Frankie, the pain and the suffering are still there and I am really sorry about what happened to your brother and the other person but at some point you need to accept that you should have done way more therapy than whatever measly amount you did after it happened. It’s traumatic and all this time later you haven’t dealt with it and it haunts you every day and therefore haunts me and soon it will haunt the kids. It’s become part of the fabric of our life, this thing that you carry around with you every day. I want it gone. I need it gone to be able to thrive in this relationship. Right now I am suffocated by you!’ Damian’s voice was loud enough to attract a few stares from fellow diners.

  ‘Oh, do you know what, Damian, you are so self-righteous, go fuck yourself.’

  Damian stood up and threw down his napkin.

  ‘Well, you sure as hell won’t!’ He hastily put some notes on the table. ‘Enjoy dessert.’ He grabbed his coat off the back of the chair, downed his beer and as he wiped his mouth he gave me one final glare and then walked out of the restaurant.

  I felt the rage almost consuming me. Damian had only ever walked out on me in a restaurant once before, many years ago, and we vowed to never do it to one another again. I looked around and caught a couple of diners swiftly looking in the other direction. I felt myself getting hotter and felt the strain from my clenched jaw. I was furious that Damian could think I would possibly want to give up my job that I worked so damn hard at. Mason was happy for me to be flexible with my hours but to reduce them right down was never going to work for that role. I loved my kids more than anything. But Damian was right, I did find the monotony of being at home all day with both kids tiresome. It was too many hours in the day to think about the past. Kiefer was my brother, of course I was never going to get over this, and no amount of therapy was going to bring him back.

  I gulped back the tears and felt the burning sensation in my nose and throat.

  A waiter appeared and filled up my wine glass. I could feel the weight of his thoughts, and I gave a meek smile as he slipped away back to the waiter station. I could see him muttering something to his colleague. The humiliation did not subside. I was going to skip dessert, there was no way I was going to stay sitting alone, but there was no way I was going to go home and face Damian. I wondered what Aimee would think, seeing him come home alone? Damian would have made up an excuse for us but still she would have questioned my absence.

  The notes on the table were more than enough to cover the meal so I stood up and began gathering up my belongings. But something caught my attention from the window. At first I presumed it was Damian, that maybe he had had second thoughts and was standing all forlorn at the window, waiting for me so we could get a cab together. I felt a mild moment of relief. I couldn’t stand arguing and I was to
o tired to go and spend the rest of the evening propping up some bar.

  I turned and looked at the figure staring through into the restaurant. They had their hands pressed against the window. They were wearing a black hooded coat, pulled right up over their head and almost covering their face, and if I hadn’t known those eyes from all those years ago I would have looked the other way and carried on collecting my things, but they were staring straight at me, the way they had so many times before. Although it had been twenty years, there they were again, locked on mine as though a day hadn’t passed.

  I stumbled back towards my chair and clipped my ankle on the leg, and I gasped out in pain. I could see the waiters looking over at me, too immature in their ways to run to me and check if I was okay but intrigued by the car crash of a dinner date they were voyeurs to. I fell back into the seat, my legs felt like jelly. I took a final swig of the wine and looked anxiously around to see if anyone else could see the figure at the window. Finally, the maître d’ passed by and touched my arm.

  ‘Madam, can I get you anything?’

  ‘Yes, it’s a silly request but can you, could someone possibly go and check the…’ I pointed towards the window but there was no one there. All I could see was a gentle lash of rain and a few bright car lights.

  ‘Madam?’ the maître d’ continued.

  ‘I… I’m sorry, I just saw someone, pressed against the window, it alarmed me.’

  ‘Well, there is no one there now, madam.’ He looked towards the window.

  ‘Oh, okay.’ I looked down at my wine and went to take a final gulp but there was none left and the bottle was empty.

  ‘Can I get you a drink?’