by Jemma Forte
From downstairs the sound of Max’s phone conversation floated upwards to the landing. It was like pouring petrol on the flames of her suspicion. He sounded so jovial, so alive, and like he was making every effort to be charming and engaging. This wasn’t helping her mood at all, and if he laughed that nauseating laugh again she’d be tempted to take off one of her shoes and stab him in the eye with the heel.
Another ten minutes later and Jennifer was prickling with embarrassment. She felt so stupid. She felt unloved, unbelievably jealous, rejected and because she was trying so hard not to cry, all these emotions were steadily transforming into crystallised fury. How could he do this to her? By now Jennifer had given up sprawling on the bed and had decamped out onto the landing, where she was squatting on the floor, head stuck between the bannisters. That way she could hear exactly what was being said. Their conversation was all fairly innocuous but also seemed largely unrelated to work. Instead they were gossiping and sharing private jokes, which only confirmed that this was a chat that they definitely didn’t need to be having now. The rawness of what she was feeling, combined with how much wine she’d drunk, meant that by the time he did finally terminate the call, the only thing she was ready for, was a fight.
‘How could you?’ she said to a surprised Max as he finally rounded the top of the stairs only to find her crouching on the landing dressed like a prostitute.
‘What are you doing? What are you wearing?’
‘I’m wearing what I thought you might possibly find sexy enough to want to fuck me in. Only clearly I was wrong. Why did you have to talk to that stupid cow for so long? You knew I was waiting for you up here. It’s so rude,’ she cried, hot jealousy welling up inside her, like a volcano about to erupt.
‘Calm down,’ said Max, only fuelling the fire further. ‘I told you I had to phone her because I took the day off today to help you. I’m sorry it went on for a bit but you know what Judith’s like once she gets going.’
‘Oh, and I suppose you were physically unable to say something like “I need to keep this quick because I’m in the middle of something”. Or, “I’m sorry Judith I’ve got to go because I haven’t had sex with my wife for so long she doesn’t know if I even love her any more”. Or “I must dash, my wife’s dressed like a slut, only I’ve got to the point in life where I don’t even care because I’d rather be talking to you”.’ Jennifer was so upset that by now she knew she was looking deranged but was unable to stop herself. She just needed to hear him say sorry.
‘You’re being ridiculous,’ Max thundered.
Jennifer recoiled because of course she felt ridiculous. There wasn’t any part of her that wanted this to be happening. This was supposed to be their evening for a bit of love and romance. Instead, she was dressed in this ‘get up’ which she’d hoped he’d find really sexy but which was now making her feel like a cheap hooker, and she felt totally embarrassed. Worse still, Judith had impinged on their lives once again. she couldn’t stand it.
‘You’re so out of order,’ she cried.
‘Oh for fuck’s sake, you’re being so dramatic. Just because you’ve had a couple of glasses of wine you act like an idiot.’
‘Fuck you,’ screamed Jennifer.
‘Ssh, keep your voice down, you’ll wake the girls.’
Jennifer was trembling with rage and hurt. She took a sharp inhalation of breath in an attempt to calm herself. Max had never taken kindly to histrionics. Plus she really didn’t want to wake the children.
‘Look, I’m sorry I’ve got myself into this state,’ she said, happy to acknowledge that she was acting like a crazy woman but determined to make him understand why. ‘I just want you to try and get how I feel. I’ve made loads of effort for tonight and I had hoped you might like what I was wearing. I wanted you to fancy me and for us to feel like we used to when we had sex. I wanted us to be close.’
‘You look great,’ said Max unconvincingly.
‘But instead,’ Jennifer said, smearing mascara across her face, ‘it’s just another time which has been dominated by Judith, who you know I feel insecure about as it is.’
Max traipsed wearily from the landing into their room where he sunk onto their bed, shook his head and rubbed his face with his hands. ‘I’m too tired for this, Jen. I just want to go to bed now.’
Following him in, she felt sick. His lack of effort to make things better made her stomach turn. She felt terrified, yet intuition was telling her to keep digging. Why should she let him get away with this shitty treatment? Why was she constantly apologising all the time? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t all her fault and she was fed up with being made to feel like it was, like she was mad.
‘I think you have feelings for her. Do you?’
Suddenly Jennifer knew that this was the crux of the matter. Probably had been for weeks.
‘Oh Christ,’ said Max, sounding angry now.
‘I mean it, Max. I want to know. Do you have feelings for Judith? Because I think you might. I think that’s why you hardly look at me these days. I know you think I’m a mad, crazy cow but you’re the one who keeps making me feel like that. You used to make me feel beautiful and loved and happy and now I’m just miserable all the time and feel like I’m constantly waiting for you to announce something.’
Max looked pained and refused to even glance in her direction, staring into the middle distance instead.
‘I don’t have feelings for her,’ he said quietly.
‘Swear on the girl’s lives,’ said Jennifer so menacingly that Max actually gulped.
And then he did something that practically cracked her heart in two. He finally found it in himself to look at her briefly but then couldn’t hold her gaze or say what she so desperately needed him to say. So he looked away again and sighed. A heavy, sad, terrible sigh that felt like such a huge sign of betrayal that Jennifer thought she might actually be about to have a panic attack. Her whole body went cold and clammy. She wondered if she was going to be sick or faint.
‘You’d better tell me everything,’ she said, ‘and I mean everything.’
Even as she was saying this, she was wondering if this was the end of her marriage. It was so surreal. Could this be the end of life as she knew it? She willed Max with every cell in her body to make it all go away. To look at her in such a way that she would know he was playing with her, trying to be funny. Only that could make this all OK. But he didn’t.
Instead he said, looking truly wretched, ‘Jen, I swear there’s not really anything to tell. Nothing has actually happened and that’s the god’s honest truth…’
‘But…’
‘But nothing,’ he repeated, getting up and coming over to her.
‘Don’t lie to me,’ she warned him and as he reached over to touch her arm her entire body flinched, a totally reflex action. It was as if subconsciously she was scared he would harm her. This was harming her. The pain she was experiencing was on a physical level. Again she wished fervently she wasn’t dressed as she was and yet it hardly mattered.
‘Tell me.’
‘There’s nothing to tell.’
‘But you’d like there to be.’
Max gazed at her, his expression bleak, his eyes searching hers as if he hoped to find an answer through her. And then he shrugged, almost imperceptibly, and that was all she needed to know.
‘Have you had sex with her?’
‘No…’
‘But?’
‘I haven’t…actually slept with her.’
Jennifer froze and for a fraction of a second time seemed to stand still. The house fell silent, and then she ran. Stopping only to discard her heels, she hurtled out of the room and practically threw herself down the stairs in a bid to flee. Downstairs in the hall she desperately searched for something to put on her feet that didn’t come with a six-inch heel. These would do. An old pair of disgusting gardening shoes her mother had left the last time she’d been round. They were far too big but Jennifer didn’t care, she just needed to be awa
y. To escape from what was happening. She couldn’t breathe. She’d go to Karen’s. That’s what she’d do. She wouldn’t stop to think until she’d got there. Wouldn’t stop to contemplate what this all meant until she was safe with her friend. Karen was only ten minutes away. That’s where she’d go.
When Max came thundering down the stairs after her she only increased her efforts to get away but he tried to block her exit by standing in front of the door.
‘What are you doing? You can’t go out of the house dressed like that,’ he said, his face frantic. ‘Jen, just stay so we can talk. You’ve got it all wrong anyway.’
‘Oh I don’t think so,’ she cried. ‘In fact, the only thing I’ve got wrong is putting up with your bullshit for this long. Now get out of my way.’
‘Look, calm down,’ tried Max again, using the same tone he often used on the kids. ‘You can’t go out dressed like that.’
‘Fuck off,’ she spat, grabbing a coat from the hooks in the hall and shoving it on. She grabbed her phone from the hall stand so she could ring Karen and then, with every bit of strength in her body, shoved Max out of the way so that she could wrench open the door. Once free she sprinted down the road as fast as her oversized shoes would allow.
Max didn’t know what to do. He suspected she’d be going to Karen’s, or to start a new job as a pole dancer. Either or. Part of him thought it was probably for the best that she took some time out to calm down. Another part of him wanted to run after her, to grab her, hold her and tell her it was all going to be OK. Suddenly he was hit by a monumental urge to simply say sorry. How had they got here? How had he let things get to this point? She was right of course. Over the last few months she’d picked up on his absence. Not a physical absence but his mind had been elsewhere and rather than admit it he’d let her think she was the one to blame. It was ridiculous and in that second Max was only grateful he hadn’t gone the whole way with Judith. Thank god. Though what he didn’t want to examine too much was that this was more down to circumstances than his own restraint. Tonight he’d seen the hurt and grief an affair would have caused and it had been the sharp reminder he’d needed that he didn’t want to lose his wife. He loved his wife. He wanted to throttle her sometimes and Judith’s attentions had been desperately flattering but from this moment forward he needed to sort his life out. It had all spun out of control.
He felt totally drained. Making sure the door was on the latch he walked out and stood at the gate where he called down the road. ‘Jen, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Come back. For goodness sake, you’ve made your point.’
She didn’t so much as look back though and eventually she was a pinprick at the bottom of the road. The boring bloke from number forty-two who’d witnessed everything and been rubbernecking quite spectacularly, gave him a judgemental look as he passed the house. Max returned it with a glowering frown.
Right, there was nothing he could do. He’d leave it for a bit, let her cool off and then send her a text telling her he loved her and that he was the biggest idiot on the planet. With that last thought, Max was just about to head back indoors, when he heard the ungodly sound of screeching tyres, a sickening crunch and a scream. From what he could make out the sound had come from the end of the street. His heart skipped a beat and the fear Max experienced in that second was white and petrifying. And then he did something he hadn’t done since school. He prayed.
PRESENT DAY
One of Jennifer’s eyes, her left one, slowly opened. She couldn’t focus on anything specific. As light flooded in it took a while for her retinas to adjust. They had become so accustomed to a vista of black. Everything was very hazy, very blurry and before her vision had had a chance to fine-tune itself, the eye snapped shut again.
Half an hour later the same eye opened once more and then the second one fluttered open as well. Only this time Max was in the room having just returned from the canteen where he’d bought himself a packet of Highland shortbread and a cup of tea.
‘Jen,’ he cried. The sound of his voice penetrated through to Jennifer who knew he was talking to her. She knew Max was there. Where was there though? That bit was all a bit foggy and she was pretty sure that although she’d like to ask him, she wouldn’t be able to. Articulating anything would be impossible at the moment. She wouldn’t know how to.
An hour or two later and Jennifer’s brain and body were making huge leaps back into the real world. The doctors had swarmed around her as soon as Max had raised the alarm. Blood had been taken to check for levels of serum glucose, calcium, sodium, potassium, magnesium, phosphate, urea, and creatinine. Then, as Max had known they would, they’d wheeled his wife off to perform yet another MRI brain scan on her.
A while later and the results were in. As far as they could tell at this stage her brain was showing no signs of permanent damage, although it would be a long time before they could completely confirm it. After five long weeks Jennifer was officially coming out of her coma.
Max couldn’t believe it. What he had prayed for each day was happening. It felt as close to a miracle as anything he’d ever experienced.
For the next couple of days Jennifer would wake up for short bursts, and sometimes be profoundly confused and at other times relatively lucid.
The moment when she recognised her husband and was finally able to speak was the best of all.
‘Hey you,’ he said, stroking her hand gently with one finger. She was looking right at him and not as though he was a stranger as she had been previously.
‘Hey,’ she said. ‘What’s happened?’
‘You were in an accident, Jen. You got hit by a car. You’ve been asleep for weeks. We didn’t know…’ Max stopped, took a gulp and composed himself.
‘Eadie and Polly?’
At this Max was almost overwhelmed by relief and happiness and it took every bit of his willpower not to break down. ‘They’re fine, Jen. They’re absolutely fine. I don’t think either of them ever doubted they’d be seeing you again. I think they reckon you’re Sleeping Beauty.’
That was more than enough for her first proper conversation though and as the doctor urged Max to let his wife rest again, Jennifer fell into a deep sleep.
‘Is she OK?’ asked Max as he tended to every time she did this. ‘She hasn’t gone into a coma again has she?’
‘No,’ said the doctor, who happened to have been making his rounds. ‘Don’t worry; your wife is doing phenomenally well. Recovery usually occurs very gradually though and Jennifer will take a while to acquire the ability to respond for any decent length of time. However, I really think her outlook is extremely positive. But, just be prepared for your wife to still appear confused at times and try not to worry if she does. It’s totally normal after somebody has been in such a deep coma.’
It was a good thing the doctor had warned him about this because later on that night in the early hours Jennifer started muttering in her sleep. Max, who had been sleeping fitfully on the camp bed (which by this point in time he officially hated and viewed as an actual instrument of torture), sat bolt upright. ‘Jen?’ he whispered, but when it became clear that she was only sleep talking he got up and went over to see what she was saying.
The next day, Karen brought the girls into hospital in the afternoon during visiting hours. They’d all decided that with so much less machinery around her it was time for them to finally see their mummy again.
It couldn’t have gone better. The timing was great. Jennifer was awake and clearly aware of their presence. She was so happy to see them. Just the fact she recognised them was another incredibly encouraging sign that she was on the road to a full recovery. Eadie and Polly had been lectured at length about not wearing their mother out and were rising to the occasion beautifully, being quiet and good as gold.
Until at one point they asked if they could sing a song to her. ‘What song?’ asked Karen.
‘ “Gangnam Style”?’ suggested Eadie.
‘No, that’s probably not the best idea,�
�� her godmother vetoed. ‘Why don’t you sing Mummy a lovely lullaby instead? “Rock a Bye Baby” or something?’
The girls obeyed and as they started to sing Karen took the opportunity to take Max to one side and ask, ‘How are you bearing up?’
‘Good,’ said Max, an emotional wreck. ‘I just can’t believe this is all going to end OK.’
‘I know. Thank god.’
‘Karen?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m so sorry you know. I never ever wanted this to happen and I can tell you now that I will spend the rest of my life making sure she’s happy.’
‘I know you will,’ said Karen sadly. ‘And it’s fine. You really don’t need to apologise to me. Besides, now you can apologise to Jen herself.’
Max looked sheepish. It was obvious Jennifer had confided in her friend pre-accident that things weren’t great. Not that she’d know the worst of course. He had no idea how much Jennifer herself would remember either. The suspense was nothing short of horrendous.
‘Listen,’ reassured Karen, ‘I understand and I don’t judge anyone else’s relationships. After all, you get to our stage and learn that life isn’t black and white like you think it is when you’re young. It’s bloody grey.’
‘Fifty shades?’
‘Ha ha,’ said Karen. ‘And no, more like one thousand shades of grey, but it’s all going to be fine. It’ll all work itself out now that Jen’s on the mend. I know it will.’
‘Thanks,’ said Max. ‘For everything. For all your help with the girls, everything.’
‘You’re very welcome,’ said Karen.
‘Oh, and by the way,’ said Max, ‘I was thinking of making a donation to the hospital.’
‘Oh, nice idea.’
‘Mm, I’m buying them a single bed with a really comfortable mattress so that the next poor bastard who ends up kipping in here might have a chance of actually getting some sleep.’