by Ella Harper
Connie supposed she felt it wouldn’t be fair to Jonas. Because she and JJ had history and that made him a friend who had been more than a friend at some point. But that was in the past. At least… Connie swallowed. The way JJ had looked at her over coffee. Was she wrong in thinking that there was still chemistry between them? Something that suggested he might still have feelings? No, surely not. It had been fifteen years since they had last been in any kind of relationship. It wasn’t likely that JJ felt anything other than friendship towards her, especially after all this time. Connie stared out of the window and chewed her fingernail. Did she still have feelings for JJ? Or was it just that she felt irrevocably tied to him? When he had mentioned Bella…
Connie hyperventilated for a second. She couldn’t even think about that right now. It was messing with her head enough thinking that she might still have feelings for JJ. And even if she did, what was the point? However JJ might have looked at her in the coffee shop, it must have been an ‘in the moment’ thing – JJ enjoyed sleeping around far too much to have any real feelings for her.
Connie hated that he did that. It made her feel differently about him. Even though she knew that men did this and just took it in their stride, she had always thought JJ was different. That he wasn’t the type to be casual. Certainly not for this many years; she’d been amazed that he’d kept up the revolving door of women all this time.
Connie wasn’t big-headed enough to believe JJ’s behaviour had anything to do with her, but he had definitely changed since they were a couple at uni. JJ hadn’t been remotely casual back then; if anything he had been intense and full-on. Romantic. Sweet. Kind. Sexual, yes, but only with her. He had been a one-woman man; Connie was sure of that. It had only been when she had felt deeply close to him that he had suddenly and inexplicably pulled back from her. Connie had the sense that JJ had been about to open up to her and bare his soul in the most intimate of ways, but he had stopped himself. And that had been that. The end of JJ and Connie as an entity. And something had curled up and into itself when that had happened. Connie knew she hadn’t been the same since.
And why hadn’t she been able to tell JJ what was going on? That had been her intention. She had messaged him wanting to meet up, wanting to open up. And when it had come to it, she hadn’t been able to. And she couldn’t work out if it was out of loyalty to Jonas, shame at having to admit what a horrible failure her marriage was or… some other reason. All Connie knew was that she hadn’t been able to get the words out when push came to shove. She had badly wanted to tell JJ everything. To share what was going on and to hear him consoling her, advising her, maybe… sympathising. Making her feel better. Connie had urgently needed JJ to make her feel better. And he had, without her even telling him what was going on in her life. But that was because JJ had always felt like home.
‘Connie.’
Connie spun round, hearing the tension in Jonas’s voice. Her name had sounded like a bullet being shot out of a gun. Jonas stood in the doorway, still wearing the suit he had gone to work in. It looked crumpled. Dishevelled. So did he. He had the look of an injured panther that wanted desperately to pounce, but was maybe more wounded than it realised.
‘Are you OK?’ Connie stepped back without even realising she’d subconsciously put some distance between herself and Jonas.
‘No. No I’m not.’ Jonas didn’t advance towards her, instead taking a seat heavily at the dining room table.
‘Bad day at the office?’ Connie asked, hoping she sounded sympathetic. She sat at the other end deliberately, in an attempt to feel safer.
Jonas nodded curtly. ‘You could say that.’
Connie waited. She knew better than to ask too many questions when Jonas was in this mood. His face was flushed and his shoulders were hunched. He was glaring at her as if everything that had happened – whatever it was – was all her fault.
‘I lost my job today.’
‘W-what?’ Whatever she had been expecting, that wasn’t it. Jonas had lost his job? Connie gaped at him, aghast. ‘You’ve… been made redundant,’ she stated, certain that must be the case.
‘Nope.’ Jonas shook his head. And sat back, regarding her almost arrogantly.
Connie was flummoxed. Why on earth was he acting like this? And if he hadn’t been made redundant, that could only mean one thing. ‘You’ve been fired?’ she asked in a whisper.
Jonas nodded and shrugged. ‘I was indeed fired today.’
Connie blinked. How could he be this calm about it? He’d been fired, for Christ’s sake!
‘Can you appeal?’
Jonas shook his head. ‘I shouldn’t imagine so. There hasn’t been any kind of mistake.’ He folded his arms and regarded her coldly. ‘I didn’t chase that witness for the big, high-profile case I’ve been working on.’
‘I remember. You told me about it in Italy.’ Connie dropped her head for a second. Italy made her feel sick now.
‘Right. Well, that witness was the alibi for someone. And they’ve just lost their liberty.’
Connie stared at Jonas. ‘They’ve gone to prison?’
He nodded. ‘Yep. I’ve just been hauled in front of the regulatory body and they’ve said that it was such a huge fuck-up, I can’t work as a solicitor again. They didn’t even bother fining me. My career is over.’
Connie gaped at Jonas. She couldn’t get over the shock of the news. Or the way Jonas was acting.
‘It is a bit shit, isn’t it?’ Jonas gave her an amiable smile.
Connie frowned. Jonas had just been fired for costing someone their freedom. ‘OK, so we’ve established that it’s a bit shit. What are we going to do about it?’
‘We?’ Jonas held his hands up, making himself look oddly comical. ‘I don’t think “we” can do anything much about it. I’ve been told I won’t get another job in my line of work again. It’s all I’m trained to do.’
‘Right…’ Connie was baffled. ‘So…’
‘So I suggest we swap places.’ Jonas uttered this triumphantly, as if he’d been waiting all day to say it. ‘You go out to work again… and I’ll become a house husband. Or whatever the terrible expression is.’
Connie’s mouth felt as if it were stuffed full of cotton wool. She could do with a glass of water. Or maybe vodka.
‘I mean, it can’t be that hard, can it?’ Jonas said expansively, sweeping a hand in the general direction of the kitchen. ‘If you can do it, I can do it.’
‘You want me to go back to work,’ Connie said in a monotone, mainly because she felt flat and numb. Her emotions appeared to be caught in her chest, like a spasm.
‘You don’t have any choice. I can’t get another job. Not earning the kind of money I was earning. My name is the equivalent of Grade A crap in the industry. I’m ruined.’ Jonas got up from the table. ‘Totally buggered.’ He nonchalantly strolled over to the risotto. Turned the heat on, picked up the wooden spoon and began to stir it. He tasted it, added salt and pepper and turned to face Connie. ‘So, it’s over to you, I’m afraid. You’re going to have to go job hunting and make sure you can match my salary. Otherwise I guess we’ll probably lose the house.’
Connie was literally speechless. Was Jonas high? Or had he just lost the plot? Maybe he was having a gigantic nervous breakdown or something. He had been fired. He clearly couldn’t get a reference and therefore his career in the legal field was over, because reputation was everything. And he was threatening her with losing the house unless she got herself back out there quick-smart and found herself a high-level job that would pay the equivalent of Jonas’s huge salary.
Connie looked down at her hands. They were clasped together on the table and they were shaking. How on earth was she supposed to suddenly pick up the earning baton? She had been out of the employment game for years. Years. Connie had no idea if she would be able to step back into her old arena – if they would even be interested in having her back. She had no idea what had changed, what she could earn, if she could fit back into working
for a company, when she had been happily working for herself for a long time now.
She might be too old now. Lacking experience. Not up to date enough with how magazines and newspapers worked these days. Incapable of cutting it in what had been a cut-throat industry back then, let alone how it might be today. There was no guarantee Connie would even be granted an interview, let alone be able to secure a job.
Connie didn’t know if what she felt inside was excitement or simply terror. She turned back to Jonas.
‘If you could get a job back in your field, would you want to?’
Seemingly calm, Jonas ate risotto off the wooden spoon while he considered the question. ‘No, I don’t think I would. I’ve done my bit, haven’t I? I’ve worked myself to the bone for years now, Connie. Worked weekends and late nights. You’ve sat at home doing some washing and making the odd risotto. I reckon it’s my turn to take a back seat.’
Connie bristled. A back seat? Is that how Jonas saw running a home and dealing with everything two kids entailed? She kept this place ticking over like clockwork, as well as writing her blog. Doing some washing? Making the odd risotto? Connie felt her blood rushing round her body like red-hot lava. How dare Jonas write off what she did as ‘taking a back seat?’
‘You look annoyed,’ Jonas commented, narrowing his eyes. ‘Can’t imagine why. We’re swapping roles, Connie. That’s all. I thought you were all about feminism?’
‘Jonas. There is rather more to running this house than doing a bit of washing. That’s all I’m saying.’
He shrugged. ‘Whatever. I’m sure I’ll cope. And it will be a damned sight easier than doing my old job and dealing with that prick Lukas every day.’ His face turned puce again all of a sudden. ‘Earn some fucking money, Connie. Do your bit. Because even if I hadn’t been fired today, I’ve had enough. Enough, do you hear me? ENOUGH!’
Abruptly flipping the pan of risotto over and sending tomato-hued rice all over the kitchen, Jonas marched towards her with his fist pulled back in readiness. Connie jumped out of her seat and sprang backwards, but she held his gaze and stared him down. No way was he hitting her again. No bloody way.
Jonas dropped his fist, let out a howl and stormed out of the kitchen.
Connie stared after him in horror. The mortgage needing paying in a month’s time. As did all the other bills. And there was food to buy and there were two children depending on her. And Jonas. Jonas was depending on her. Jonas, who might or might not be having some kind of emotional or mental breakdown.
Connie sat down again, shaking all over. How the hell was she supposed to fix this? Pay the mortgage, deal with Jonas? Work out why she couldn’t stop thinking about JJ, wanting to call him and tell him everything?
Jonas had been fired. And everything now lay on her shoulders. And there was no dinner. Connie wasn’t sure what to tackle first, but one thing was for sure: she was utterly petrified.
Jonas
Jonas sauntered through the park. He actually felt pretty good. He hardly ever got to stroll around during the day like this, even at the weekends. And he wasn’t wearing a suit for once. Jeans and a t-shirt. It felt liberating.
Every cloud, he thought with a wry smile.
Jonas looked around and took in his surroundings as he wandered past the lake. There were mums with young children playing, older people walking dogs. It was a sunny day, without a cloud in the sky. Jonas took a deep breath and sat down on a nearby bench to take stock.
He had been fired. His name was shit in the industry because he was responsible for someone going to prison. And Jonas wasn’t sure he cared. He was stunned at Lukas’s vitriol and at his intention to see Jonas destroyed, however. What had been the point of Jonas’s hard work all these years? OK, so it was a bad mistake. But he’d been such a good solicitor before that. The reason Jonas wasn’t sure he cared was because he had been so stressed out for so long, had been working such long hours and had been made to feel like such a monumental failure for so many months, that in some ways, it was a relief to be sacked. Jonas knew he couldn’t sustain the level of effort he’d been putting in over the past months. Nor could he hope to succeed with all the cases he had taken on. There had been so many on his desk, Jonas had lost the plot on most them and couldn’t even hope to keep track of all the details. Why had he even tried?
When he thought about the mistake he had made with the high-profile case, he felt quite sick. It was stupid of him. He never did things like that; he was normally extremely efficient.
Jonas sat back on the bench. He felt calmer than he had in months. He could finally breathe. He felt free. Perhaps he just wasn’t cut out to work in a nine-to-five job… or what had actually turned out to be more like a five-to-nine job, plus weekends. Perhaps he had simply burnt himself out trying to be the hero, trying to keep the mortgage going and pay all the bills.
Jonas frowned and felt a rush of shame. Well, he was hardly a hero, was he? Look at the way he had treated Connie of late. He had hit her. He had hit his wife. His most prized possession, the one person who had always had faith in him and believed in him. Jonas honestly didn’t know what came over him in these moments. It had almost happened the other day when he had told her about being fired, but either Connie had moved quickly or he hadn’t wanted to do it, because it hadn’t happened. And Jonas was relieved about that. Very relieved.
But he was worried about Bella. She didn’t want to be in the same room as him. Jonas didn’t blame her, but they were going to have to have a conversation about it sooner or later. Did she hate him? Jonas put his face in his hands. Christ. What daughter wanted to see their father hit their mother? What a horrible thing for her to see. What must she think of him?
And what about Connie? Surely this must be affecting her. It must be influencing, or even changing her feelings, surely? When Jonas thought about it, he realised it was probably similar to being cheated on repeatedly. Being betrayed, over and over again. By the person you loved. Jonas felt physically sick. He didn’t know how to help himself. He didn’t know what had stopped it from happening the other day, but that was what needed to happen. Every time. Any time he felt violent and as though he might lose himself.
But Jonas couldn’t honestly say that he felt bad about losing his job. It had been so stressful, so demanding. And wasn’t it about time Connie pulled her weight? Jonas had been working for years. Years and years and years. Paying for everything. Bills, the mortgage, home repairs, holidays, clothes, books, food. At first, it had felt easy. At first, Jonas had wanted to do it. But the pressure had mounted over the years and the last year had been horrific.
And yes, Connie had worked. But not enough, in Jonas’s opinion. Her blog earned money, sure, but not the kind of money they could live off. It was pocket money. It was about time things changed.
She was going to have to go out and get a job now, simple as that, Jonas thought self-righteously. There was a mortgage to be paid, bills to pay. And he would be a fantastic house husband. Why wouldn’t he be? What did Connie actually do all day? Washing, cooking, cleaning. Sorting the girls out – and at their age, what help did they actually need? Jonas assumed they just got on with what they needed to do and that Connie had minimal involvement.
Feeling justified in his decision to swap roles, Jonas got up and strolled off, feeling the sunshine on his face. He would love to get back into cooking again. Back in the day, he used to cook a lot. On the weekends, at least. He would blitz up Thai curry pastes, make stews and pies. Yes, he made a mess and yes, he used all the pans and crockery, like a so-called typical man. But he was a good cook. And now he would have time to get back into cooking again.
And Jonas was sure he could cope with the odd bit of washing and flicking a duster around. Hoovering. Even if he was busy, Jonas was sure he wouldn’t be stressed out the way he had been at work. No way! Who could be stressed, dealing with a couple of children of their ages and running a house? If Jonas could be a solicitor – which he had done successfully for a numbe
r of years – he could sure as hell run a house and drive the kids around to wherever they needed to be.
I mean, seriously, Jonas thought to himself. How hard could it be?
Layla
‘OK. So I think I have everything I need.’ The GP tidied her notes up briskly and smiled at Layla.
‘Do you?’
Layla felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to know what was wrong with her mum, but at the same time, she wasn’t sure she actually wanted to hear it. Because if it was what she feared it was, rather than something that could be solved by taking some medication, life was going to continue to be tough. And even though Layla felt horribly guilty for even thinking that way, it was a fact.
The GP wasn’t even her usual doctor; hers was on holiday. Maybe this woman had made a mistake, Layla thought hopefully. Maybe she was just making a snap judgement because she didn’t actually know all the facts and the history.
‘So what’s wrong with me, then?’ Evelyn asked, suddenly bright as a button. She had been vague throughout the entire GP assessment, but now, out of the blue, she had picked herself up and seemed very with it.
Layla sighed. How typical.
‘Would you like a private conversation about this?’ the GP asked. She said this apologetically, aware that it was awkward with Evelyn in the same room.
Layla shook her head. ‘No. It’s OK. When she’s lucid like this, she actually does understand most things. And maybe it’s better if she knows what’s going on.’
‘OK.’ The GP turned to Evelyn. ‘My name is Dr Fern and your daughter has brought you here today to see if we can figure out why you might have been having some difficulties recently. Having listened and made some notes about it all, I think it’s possible that you might have dementia,’ she said in a kindly tone.
‘Dementia,’ Evelyn repeated. She looked at Layla anxiously. ‘So I’m going mad?’
Layla’s heart clenched. God. How awful it must be to hear something like that. Maybe she should have had a private chat with Dr Fern after all.