Cassie and Mic showed him out, and after he’d gone they stood in the hallway staring at each other. Again, they spoke simultaneously.
Cassie said, ‘Well, that went off fairly satisfactorily, didn’t it?’
Mic said, ‘That’s it. We’ve fucking blown it!’
Chapter Ten
Rob read the letter from Cassie and marvelled at the ineptness of her timing. In truth it was not so much a letter, more a statement of demands: a long list of all the household things she had left behind in the cottage and claimed still belonged to her with, at the bottom, orders that the children should no longer be taken anywhere near the cottage because it was causing them psychological damage. Rob curled his lip, and glanced again at the list of things. Eighty per cent of them he had already put into store, and were therefore unreachable. Most of the rest he had thrown away. All that remained was the sitting-room carpet, which he had left behind for Nell to take over.
Could he ask for it back? He had no idea if she particularly liked it or not. He would have to tell Cassie that it had been sold with the house, but would she then immediately demand a new one? He was damned if he was going to buy her one, but he really did not want all the hassle involved in refusing to do so. He wished yet again that he could simply tell her to sod off, but he knew that if he upset her she would inevitably take out her rage on his children – he called it her Look what you made me do! syndrome. It seemed that this was the hold she would always have over him; a never-ending form of moral and emotional blackmail.
At the bottom of her letter Cassie had written: ‘I’m not going to discuss the above in front of the children, so give me a ring on Friday evening.’ Please, Rob added sarcastically to himself.
He went to collect the children on Saturday morning, after trying several times the night before to telephone Cassie and then (on finding the line constantly engaged) giving up.
‘You never called me!’ she accused him, as she opened her front door. ‘Was it too much trouble just to lift the phone?’
‘If you must know I tried for bloody hours, but all I got was the engaged signal.’
‘Well, of course I left it off the hook while the children were going to sleep. I can’t have them disturbed. You must know that?’ Rob raised his eyes to heaven. ‘And there’s no need to sneer,’ Cassie went on, ‘or pull stupid faces. I can quite see where Rosie gets it from!’
‘Daddy!’ Rosie came running out of the kitchen and flung herself at him. Rob hoped she hadn’t overheard them.
‘Hello, pudding.’ He bent and gathered her up in his arms and kissed both of her apple cheeks. ‘You look good enough to eat! Which bit shall I begin with?’
‘Feet!’ Rosie cried, cackling.
‘Mmmmmm mmm mmmm …’ Rob mouthed his way over one sturdy red shoe, and up one thickly trousered leg, smacking his lips and doing a pretend burp on her tummy. Rosie laughed louder.
‘There’s such a thing as child abuse, remember,’ Cassie said sourly. ‘The spare things are in that bag over there.’
Rob ignored the implied threat. ‘I hope they aren’t all Josh’s clothes this time.’
‘Of course not. Don’t forget Rose’s medicine, will you? And she’s not allowed out in the cold; she’s not well.’ Cassie turned to go.
‘So, where is Josh?’
‘Playing wiv Gav,’ Rosie said helpfully, pointing to the stairs.
Rob swung her down and steadied her before saying, ‘Run up and tell him I’m here, there’s a poppet.’ When she’d gone, he asked Cassie, ‘Who’s Gav, presumably Gavin?’
‘Just a little friend.’
‘Well, he’ll have to go home now, won’t he?’
‘Depends.’
‘On what?’
‘Josh might rather stay here and go on playing with him.’
‘Oh, come on, Cassie. Don’t start messing me about again.’
‘Don’t you threaten me! Josh has a right to make his own decisions.’
‘He’s only six years old!’
‘So?’
‘So it’s cruel to ask him to decide between us. He’ll be so torn.’
‘Oh, I think you’ll find Josh knows very well where his loyalties lie.’
‘That’s not true, and it’s also not fair, Cassie!’
‘Perhaps you should have considered that before you walked out on us.’
Rob controlled himself with difficulty. ‘If you remember,’ he said, ‘it was you who threw me out!’
‘Call yourself a man?’ Cassie sneered. ‘No real one would have been so feeble!’
There was a scuffling, bumping noise. Rob turned to see Josh coming downstairs with Rosie and another child behind him. Josh’s face looked pale and curiously blank.
‘Josh!’ Rob cried. ‘There you are. That’s good. Grab your coat and wellies, yes? It’s time we were off.’
But Josh just froze. Then he pushed Rosie out of the way, shouted, ‘C’mon, Gav!’ and grabbing the other boy’s arm, ran off upstairs again and, judging by the hollow sounds, on up the next flight towards the attic.
‘See!’ Cassie crowed.
‘This is ridiculous,’ Rob objected. He was very close to shouting.
‘Face it, Rob,’ Cassie said, ‘he just doesn’t want to see you.’
‘What on earth’s going on? What’s he doing in the attic? That whole floor is out of bounds to children, you know that! There’s still some of my tools and stuff up there. It’s not safe!’
‘Mic’th room,’ Rosie piped up. ‘Want to go now.’
‘Who’s Mick?’
‘Just a friend of mine,’ Cassie said. ‘None of your business.’
‘So what does Josh want with him?’
‘Mic’th not a –’ Rosie began.
‘Ssssh! Rosie,’ Cassie admonished her, ‘Daddy and I are talking.’ She turned to Rob triumphantly. ‘I do believe you’re jealous.’
‘Oh, go to hell!’ Rob said.
‘Pas devant les enfants!’ Cassie warned.
‘Want to go, want to go, want to GO!’ Rosie cried, breaking into tears and tugging at Rob’s sleeve. Cassie was standing, hands on hips, staring him out.
‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ he said. ‘Makes you look even more like a fishwife than usual.’ Then he picked up the sobbing Rosie in one arm, the bag of spare clothes on the other, and walked out.
Rob drove Rosie to the park in direct disobedience to Cassie’s wishes, and managed to dissipate some of his anger in pushing her higher and higher on one of the swings, so that she shrieked in delighted fear. He was furious to have been cheated out of having Josh for the weekend, but equally determined that Rose should not feel second best.
Once the divorce is all settled, Rob thought, there must be proper arrangements about my contact with the children. And let’s hope the Mad Cow will find it harder to mess me about then.
He caught the swing, and kissed the top of Rosie’s head. ‘More,’ she begged. ‘Puth more!’
‘Hold tight, then.’ He wondered why Cassie seemed so indifferent to her daughter, lavishing all her love and affection on Josh instead. He hoped Rosie wasn’t aware of the imbalance, but feared she must be. She was certainly not shy of fighting for parental attention, but both she and Josh had developed a worryingly negative strategy for getting it, and Cassie, instead of reacting to it with sensible briskness, positively reinforced the behaviour by rewarding it lavishly so that both children ended up vying with each other as to who could exhibit it the most. Rob had no idea what he could do about it. Weekends were never long enough.
‘Puth!’ urged Rosie.
‘One more time, and then we’re going to have one last look at our old house,’ Rob said, deciding.
When they arrived at Bottom Cottage, they found Nell outside sniffing one of the long lilac-coloured racemes of the flowering wisteria on the garden fence, and inhaling deeply.
‘I’d never realised what a marvellous scent this has,’ she said. ‘How nice to see you. No Josh?
’
‘Unfortunately not,’ Rob said.
‘Geth what I’ve got,’ Rosie said proudly to Nell.
‘What’s that then?’ Nell said, crouching down to her level.
‘A really bad cold!’
‘Oh.’ Nell glanced up at Rob, who shook his head slightly. ‘That’s hard luck.’ She stood up again. ‘Are you going for a walk?’
‘Why not?’ Rob said. ‘Want to come?’ And they set off along the river path together.
‘I can run fatht,’ Rosie said.
‘Go on, then,’ Rob encouraged her. ‘Run as far as that stile and back, and we’ll watch.’
‘Sweet thing,’ Nell said, laughing as Rosie galumphed ahead. ‘Did her birthday party go well?’
‘Not at all. She was ill.’
‘What a shame!’
‘I don’t think Rosie thought so. By all accounts, she stayed in bed all day with Cassie dancing attendance, and Josh not getting a look-in.’
‘Oh, I see,’ Nell said. ‘It’s like that, is it?’
‘It’s been one of our main problems,’ Rob said sighing, ‘arguing about our very different approaches to child-rearing. For instance, Cassie thinks I shouldn’t bring them here. She says Josh was so upset after the last time that she had to keep him off school for a week.’
‘But that’s nonsense!’
‘Yes, well…’ Rob made a face.
‘So, why are you here then: defiance?’ She looked as though she really wanted to know. Rob was sorry he had an ulterior motive.
‘Well, it’s a bit awkward …’
‘Go on.’
‘You know the carpet in the sitting room?’
‘Don’t tell me,’ Nell guessed. ‘The Mad Cow wants it back? Well, she can have it.’
‘Are you sure?’ Rob looked at her gratefully.
‘Certain. It turns out to be just the wrong colour and, to be honest, I only accepted it in the first place because it seemed churlish not to.’
‘Oh, Nell …’ Rob began, but was distracted by the return of his daughter, out of breath.
‘Daddy…’ Rosie panted reprovingly, ‘I runned … but you didn’t… watch!’
‘I’m sorry, poppet,’ Rob said. ‘Why don’t you run again, and this time I promise we’ll really watch? OK?’ And he caught Nell’s eye and smiled broadly.
*
‘You haven’t done much sailing, then?’ Paul asked Anna as he anchored the yacht behind Eely Isle, the most secluded part of the river he could find.
‘Not until I met you, no.’
‘But you are keen to learn?’
‘Of course.’ Especially if it takes your mind off incessant bonking, she thought. She looked across at the lush spring vegetation. ‘We could take the dinghy and land there,’ she suggested, ‘and christen the island.’
‘Would take too long,’ Paul said, smiling meaningfully.
‘So why don’t we brew up for a coffee, then?’
‘Afterwards.’ He took her by the hand and led her down into the cabin, taking off his shirt as he went. Anna did not complain. She was all too aware of the bargain she had struck. She wanted Paul because she was lonely and needed a man to bolster her confidence. But Paul, at the moment, just wanted to go to bed with her. She fervently hoped that eventually he would need sex less, and value her companionship more, but on present evidence that might take some time. It’s a bore, she thought, taking off her clothes and letting him kiss her, boring to keep on having to go through this undignified, messy process. Worse still, she didn’t even enjoy it! But if it was the only way to keep him … She climbed on to the bunk, and lay there waiting.
A little later she thought, I wonder if other women think philosophical thoughts while they’re doing it. Perhaps I’m abnormal. Sometimes people who’ve had a near-death experience describe being somewhere above, and looking down on themselves as they lie, expired, below. I seem to be like that with sex. It’s only when I can be a voyeur on my own life that it means anything at all. Maybe that’s why some people have mirrors on their ceilings. She could hear the river quite close to her ear, lapping up and down with each thrust. Eight, nine, ten… she counted. Any minute now. Better switch on the fake ecstasy. She moaned a little, and began to pant. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen … I wonder if I’d be less crushed on a water bed, Anna thought, although come to think of it, this is a kind of water bed…. Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, GO!
‘Aaaaaaaahhh!’ She let it out as a strangled scream. Perfect timing yet again.
Paul slumped sideways. ‘Bloody wonderful,’ he mumbled into her shoulder. ‘Never fails, eh?’ Then he went to sleep.
Anna dozed too, wondering casually how someone with a Ph.D. in biochemistry could be so easily conned. She was glad of it. The last thing she needed was a nineties man who operated an open-soul policy, and whose pride was hurt if you didn’t (really) come. Maybe Rob Hayhoe was like that. Nell had told her last Friday at swimming that she liked Rob because he was gentle and undemanding and nice to his children. Anna had had to restrain herself from putting two fingers down her throat in a Vomit! gesture. She liked her men to be masterful and manly; worthy of respect. Paul was ideal.
Of course if she really wanted to know what Rob was like, she could simply ask Paul, but she hadn’t yet told him about her connection with Nell, and now she didn’t think she would. It was over a month since the boat-warming party, and no one had apparently said anything. Paul was still telling silly Ermintrude stories. His cover still seemed to be intact. And it was now May and the promise of a whole summer of regular illicit meetings loomed excitingly ahead. Anna particularly enjoyed the forbidden aspects of their affair; the excitement without the routine, the possession without the commitment. She eased one arm from beneath his dead weight and turned her back on him, the better to reflect on life in general. It had been a lonely winter, but things were improving: Paul had finally moved his yacht to Thrushton Quay. Ermintrude was securely tied up in London by her job and her two small boys. Paul would soon be having long school holidays as well as snatched weekends, and he had a well-established habit of regularly going off alone, sailing… Things could only get better.
Cassie’s letter was bad news. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she complained to Mic, waving the sheet of paper angrily. ‘All television these days seems to be run by stupid adolescents!’
‘What d’you mean?’ Mic asked, stuffing her own letter back into its envelope.
‘Well, I thought I’d let them know I might be available again sometime in the near future when everything’s settled down, but apparently they’ve “… got no vacancies for a presenter at present”.’ Cassie read out. ‘They say things have “moved on” since I last worked for them. Huh! They’ve got some little tart (who must be all of sixteen) doing my job now. Have you seen her on ALL DRESSED UP? She can’t even read the autocue!’
‘She’s a bit tasty though, in’t she?’
‘That’s hardly the point!’ Cassie snapped.
‘Sorry, sorry. Don’t lose your rag.’ Mic put up both hands as if to ward off a blow.
‘Who needs them anyway? There are plenty of other programmes or TV companies I could work for.’ Cassie looked round crossly. ‘Where’s Gavin? Shouldn’t you be with him? I do hope he isn’t filling the loo with lavatory paper?’
‘He’s all right. He’s just –’
‘Because I don’t want it blocked up again. I really cannot face that gruesome plunger any –’
‘Well, at least he can wipe his own arse,’ Mic said, flaring up. ‘Which is more than your precious Joshua can; sitting there on the toilet and yelling orders, like I was some sort of bloody servant!’
‘It’s not a toilet!’ Cassie shouted. ‘It’s a lavatory or loo or bog or john – anything but a toilet. Why can’t you get that into your thick head?’
‘Don’t worry,’ Mic said savagely. ‘You won’t have to put up wiv me common ways no longer. An’ you can clean out your own crapper in future!’
&nb
sp; ‘What d’you mean? What are you talking about?’
‘This.’ Mic threw her letter over the table at Cassie. ‘So, soon’s meself an’ Gav can find somewhere else to kip, then we’re off, awright?’
‘But…’ Cassie took the letter from the County Council Social Services Department out of its envelope and cast her eyes over it speedily. Then by supreme effort of will she changed her whole demeanour. ‘Oh, Mic,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.’
‘Yeah, well,’ Mic looked unappeased.
‘Look,’ Cassie said, at her most winning, ‘just because those sods have refused you as a licensed child minder doesn’t mean you have to go. You can still stay on here and mind Rosie unofficially. I should hate to lose you.’ I’d fall apart in five minutes!
‘So how’m I supposed to make me living, then?’
‘You’ll still have your state benefits, won’t you? And you can go on staying here, rent free. I really need you, Mic.’ And I can’t have my long overdue nervous breakdown without you …
‘Well, I dunno…’
Oh God, Cassie thought, do I really have to grovel? It’s all your fault, Rob bloody Hayhoe. Look what you’ve reduced me to. She put on a bright smile with some difficulty, conscious of it fading at the edges. ‘Look, I’m sorry about just now,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have gone on at you. Put it down to disappointment and hurt pride, yes?’
‘My pride’s hurt an’ all,’ Mic said. ‘An’ I reckon I’d’ve got that bloody registration froo if –’
‘If what?’
‘Oh forget it,’ Mic said.
‘Look,’ Cassie said as consolingly as she could, ‘you’re upset, of course you are. It’s quite understandable. I’m not surprised that social worker turned you down though. They’re like that. If one of them happens to take a dislike to you, then you’ve had it. You could be the best child minder on the planet, but they won’t want to know.’
‘So I noticed,’ Mic said.
It’s no good, Cassie thought. She’s still not convinced. Let’s see if I can … She began to breathe fast and shallowly and felt satisfactorily dizzy almost at once. ‘Oh no,’ she cried, clutching at the table. ‘I think I’m going to have one of my …’ And then she fell off her chair on to the floor in a convincing imitation of a dead faint.
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