by Lucy Dawson
‘Nothing. I don’t need you to do anything.’ I stared glassily at the TV for a moment as I tried to summon the energy to go and get the cereal I’d been going to have in the first place anyway. It wasn’t the end of the world. ‘Just eat your pasta.’
He sat back down. ‘I get it, OK? Everything I do is wrong. I’m a constant source of disappointment to you and Chloe.’
My gaze flickered over to him briefly. What was he talking about now, a source of disappointment? ‘It’s only pasta. Just eat your food.’
‘No, I don’t want it. You can have it.’ He pushed the bowl towards me.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I said. ‘Have the pasta.’
‘You said you were hungry! You obviously want it, which is why you keep saying, “Just eat the pasta”. So have it. Take it.’
‘Oh my God! I don’t want it!’ I exploded.
‘So why make such a fuss about me not saving you any then? Was it just to make the point I’d not thought of you?’ He sat back into the sofa and put his hands on his head as he looked up at the ceiling briefly. ‘Jesus Christ, I can’t take much more of this.’
‘You can’t take much more of what, exactly?’ I said dangerously, preparing to do the ‘I know you’re under a lot of work stress at the moment, but it’s not fair to take it out on me and the kids’ bit.
‘This!’ he said, gesturing around him, presumably to encompass everything. ‘I used to do things. I saw people, we went out with friends. We’d spend time together. I feel like a social recluse, and that my life is just ticking by. Soon, I’ll be too old to do cycling, rock climbing, and—’
‘When have you ever done rock climbing?’ I said incredulously.
‘The point is these are the best years of my life, allegedly.’
‘I wasn’t aware me and the kids were holding you back so much. We’ve got a new baby, Matthew. I mean, honestly, what did you think it was going to be like? Surely you remember this bit from when Chloe was tiny?’
‘Don’t patronize me,’ he said. ‘I don’t think you understand what it’s like for me: the huge pressure all the time to provide – now we’re on one salary – when the house needs doing up, and—’
‘OK, literally you’re going mad,’ I said energetically, sitting up a bit straighter. ‘The money for the house is just sitting in the bank from the flat sale, waiting for us to get around to sorting everything out. I’ve got the builder coming over a week on Monday. Sorry I haven’t done it sooner, but I’ve got a feral baby who doesn’t sleep ever, plus a four-year-old. Yes, we’re on one salary, but we knew that was going to happen. That’s why we set the funds aside to cover that too, remember?’
He looked down at the floor and said quietly, ‘Yes. Of course I remember.’
‘Look, I know work is shocking for you at the moment.’ I tried to get us back on track. ‘But we need to attempt to hold onto the good stuff. We’ve got a house that’s going to be amazing when it’s finished. Yes it’s a 1970s nightmare at the moment, and it’s a lot further out of town than we would have liked, but it’s still going to be great. You’ve got two amazing kids. Theo will sleep eventually, believe me. We’ve just got to hang on in there and—’
‘You don’t have to pep talk me, Sally,’ he interrupted rudely. ‘I know all of this, I’m trying to—’
‘Well then, if that’s really true, just stop whingeing and man up.’ I lost my patience, simply too tired to prevent myself ripping off the kid gloves any longer, which I might have used to handle Matthew’s not-so-good-under-pressure nature carefully, earlier in our marriage.
‘Man up?’ he repeated slowly. ‘Sally, do you even like me any more?’
‘Oh, shut up, please…’ I collapsed back wearily. ‘I. Do. Not. Have. The energy for this.’
‘You need to tell me,’ he persisted. ‘Because we don’t have sex, we don’t hug, we don’t—’
‘Oh my God!’ I put my head in my hands in frustration. ‘We’ve got a bloody six-month-old baby! Of course we don’t! But if your life is really so shit, Matthew, and you’re that unhappy, then why don’t you just leave? Pack your stuff and go.’
‘Maybe I should!’ Matthew flashed back. ‘Perhaps I could be happy with someone else!’
I gasped audibly – and everything stopped. We stared at each other, aware that the line had just been well and truly crossed. Out of nowhere, I thought suddenly about the poor spider, desperately running for cover.
‘I shouldn’t have said that,’ he said quickly. ‘Of course I want to be with you and the children.’
I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. It was one thing to do a cross Rightmove search on houses that I could afford to live in with just the kids after a row – I’d done that plenty of times – and quite often recently, when Matthew had been in a particularly arsey mood, and I’d decided I actually hated him, but I knew that was normal. This was in a different league altogether.
‘Perhaps you could be happy with someone else?’ I repeated, stunned. ‘We’re seriously discussing divorce because of a bowl of pasta?’
‘No.’ He rubbed his temples. ‘Of course we’re not.’
Through the monitor came the familiar sound of Theo starting to cry, for once a welcome sound.
‘I’d better go and see to him.’ I got up quickly, and escaped.
By the time I re-emerged to get changed into my nightie and remove what little make-up I was still wearing, all of the lights were off. Matthew had gone to bed in the spare room, as usual. He hated me keeping the baby monitor next to our bed, insisting it kept him awake all night, despite my assurances it was only short-term while Theo and I got used to sleeping in different rooms.
I checked on Chloe, covering her back up with the duvet and gently stroking the hot, damp little curls from her face. She smelt like a hamster.
I crept into our bedroom and eased into bed quietly. I had no idea how things had managed to escalate so badly over nothing – but there was no question Matthew and I had unwittingly strayed into really dangerous territory.
I reached for my phone and texted: I’m sorry for what I said tonight xxx And then I waited.
Me too
That was it? And did he mean he was sorry too, or just that he was sorry for what I’d said as well?
I threw the covers back and sat up. I should just go into the spare room so we could both apologize in person and sort it out properly. I stuck a leg out of bed, and then hesitated. The thing was, he might then want to have sex. He would want to have sex – and I was just too shattered. It was all right for him, he’d be able to go to sleep afterwards. I, on the other hand, was going to be up with Theo all night. Feeling mean, I drew my leg back up, shrank under the covers, and quickly turned the light off.
Less than a minute later, I heard the spare-room door creak, the landing floorboards go, and then our door gently push open.
‘Sally?’ he whispered. ‘Are you asleep?’
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, and pretended I was.
He gave a small, sad sigh of defeat, then whispered, ‘OK. I really do love you. I promise. Goodnight,’ and retreated back off to the spare room.
I hesitated for a moment, feeling like a complete cow for not going after him, but the house had finally, blissfully, fallen silent. I couldn’t resist it – and I fell instantly asleep.
CHAPTER THREE
‘You should have come and got me,’ said Matthew, stirring sugar into his coffee. I was bent over trying to spoon baby rice into Theo, who was bobbing up and down in his bouncer, just to add the frisson of a moving target to my morning challenges.
‘There wasn’t any point – from about three a.m. he literally wouldn’t settle unless I was holding him. I don’t actually know how I’m awake,’ I confessed, glancing at Chloe, who was singing ‘Let It Go’ quietly to herself and fiddling with a pair of tiny, plastic fairy wings. ‘No toys at the table, sweetheart. Can you eat your porridge, or some of your banana? You’ll be really hungry at school otherwise.’ I turned
back to my own bowl and grabbed a mouthful, before returning to Theo. ‘Do you think you’ll be able to help me this weekend, Matthew?’
‘Yes.’ He got up to put his bowl in the dishwasher. ‘Keep eating, Chloe. It’s time to go in five minutes.’
Chloe looked up. ‘Are you taking me, Mummy?’
I glanced down briefly at the purple and flowered jersey button-front nightie Mum had bought me to wear in hospital when I’d gone in to have Theo. I had to stop wearing it, even when it was the only thing clean. I imagined myself arriving at the school gates wearing the fetching ensemble, no make-up, and my unbrushed hair scraped back into a ponytail, and smiled at Clo.
‘No, darling, I’m not. Thankfully Daddy’s call got cancelled, so he’s taking you. Theo and I will come and get you, though.’
‘I’ve finished,’ she said. ‘Thank you for my breakfast.’
‘Go and get your toothbrush then. Good girl.’ I watched her clamber down and skip off out of the room.
‘She’s happy,’ Matthew remarked through a mouthful of toast.
There was silence for a moment, punctuated only by Theo beginning to babble as he sucked on his cloth bib. I hesitated, loathe to bring up the row again, and ruin the apparent peace, but I’d done some more thinking overnight while walking Theo around, and knew what I had to say was important.
‘Matthew, about last night—’ I was about to tell him I was worried we’d become so used to operating at our limits and being pushed to the brink, we were in danger of letting it become our new normal, which wasn’t good.
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ he said brusquely, to my surprise. Picking up his mobile, he glanced at it, stood up and slipped it into his back pocket.
‘But—’
‘We really need to go. It’s twenty past eight already.’ He made his way around the kitchen table. ‘There’s nothing to discuss anyway. It’s all OK, honestly it is.’ He went out into the hall.
Once I’d closed the front door on them, having helped Chloe find her missing school shoe, zip up her coat, and carefully put her hat on so it didn’t mess up her hairclips, I was still feeling a sense of disquiet. While I didn’t think for one minute he was seriously considering leaving me for someone else, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something almost imperceptible had shifted. Something was wrong. I could feel it.
I reached for my phone.
‘Hey,’ Liv answered, sounding breathless. ‘I’m just dropping Kate at pre-school. What’s up?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. Of course you are. I didn’t think. I’ve been up literally most of the night with Theo, and I had a row with Matthew too. I’m a bit all over the place this morning.’
‘Oh, bad luck, I’m sorry to hear that. Sorry I didn’t text you back last night either. I was out. What was the row about?’
I hesitated. ‘You and Jake have discussed divorce, haven’t you?’
‘Of course!’ she said immediately. ‘Anyone who’s married with children has. If they say otherwise, they’re liars.’
‘It is completely normal, isn’t it?’ I said uncertainly. ‘To say it, but not actually mean it? Even if it feels like you do at the time?’
‘Very normal indeed. What happened?’
‘Oh, just one of those stupid things that blew up out of nowhere. I’ll tell you later when you’ve finished drop-off. Catch you in a bit.’
‘Will do!’
I put the phone back down on the table, momentarily reassured, only to get decisively to my feet again seconds later to fetch a piece of paper and pen from the hall drawer. My point still stood, this wasn’t normal for us. Liv and Jake actually did argue a lot – they’d had a slight set-to at the very first NCT class we’d met at when we’d been pregnant with the girls, much to the astonishment – and now amusement – of the whole group. It was just their way, but the Jake and Liv model certainly wasn’t how we operated. This cycle Matthew and I were apparently locked in needed breaking. If he didn’t want to talk about it, that was fine. I’d write it instead.
Dear Matthew,
I don’t want to do this any more.
I scribbled quickly.
It doesn’t matter how it stops, but enough is enough. I really am truthfully sorry. Xxx
There. An unequivocal apology. Carrying Theo upstairs, I carefully placed it on his desk where I knew he would see it, then headed off to get dressed.
He arrived back twenty minutes later, but didn’t come into the kitchen to say hello. I made a chicken casserole to sling in the slow oven for the kids’ tea, and waited for him to come down to give me a hug, but after almost another hour, he still hadn’t appeared.
I tried not to feel piqued – there was no point in my giving with one hand only to take away with the other – but as I got to my feet to take Theo up for his nap, and go to see Matthew at the same time, the food shop arrived. I took the bags in as quickly as possible, stupidly without checking them while the delivery man was still there, and it was only as I began to hurriedly unpack – Theo’s dinging from his baby bouncer beginning to morph into full-blown overtired crying – that I discovered one of the bags contained yet another three punnets of blueberries. I was peering in confusion at the inventory, when Matthew wandered in and noticed them instantly on the kitchen table.
‘What do we need all of them for?’ he said. ‘We’ve already got two lots, haven’t we?’
‘I don’t understand.’ I scratched my head. ‘I know I didn’t order them, but they’re here on the list.’
‘You must have. You are pretty tired at the moment, Sal. Maybe I should take over the weekly shop. We can’t really afford to be making unnecessary mistakes like this.’
I looked up in astonishment. ‘I’m sorry?’
He held his hands up defensively. ‘Don’t get angry. I’m trying to help. You’re excessively sleep deprived. Of course a couple of things are going to slip.’
‘Why is it me that’s definitely messed up?’ I said. ‘No chance you think it could be the shop?
‘It’s just this kind of thing has a cost implication, Sally. It all adds up.’
A cost implication? Blueberries? Was he actually serious?
‘I’m just trying to prevent unnecessary wastage. That’s all,’ he said. ‘It’s ridiculous what we spend on food each month. I’m sure with more careful shopping you could reduce things down a little. I know you’ve got a thing about organic fresh stuff, but there’s nothing to stop you buying branded items like baked beans from somewhere cheaper, if you put your mind to it.’
Just like that, all of my good intentions vanished. I stared at him, and despite all of the very reasonable things running through my head, like, ‘OK, perhaps you could tell me where I am supposed to find the time to go to two different supermarkets when I barely mange a ten-second shower each morning?’ unfortunately, the best my mouth managed in response, was, ‘Oh, just fuck off.’
He raised his eyebrows, before saying quietly, ‘Right. Well, until you’re able to have an adult conversation about it, I’m going to go back upstairs and get on with some work.’
‘No, hang on a minute, Matthew,’ I said. ‘Do you understand how it makes me feel when you act like I’m incapable of even doing a food shop? I did actually used to have a job where I successfully managed a team of people and coordinated numerous major advertising campaigns for several blue chip companies, remember?’
‘I’m familiar with your LinkedIn entry, thank you,’ Matthew replied. ‘You don’t have to quote it verbatim to me. That’s what this is really all about? You miss your job? You want to go back to work early?’
‘No!’ I said, exasperated. ‘I’m trying to say that I think I’m coping pretty well with managing everything here.’
‘Who said anything about you not coping? I just tried to talk to you about saving some money, and you told me to fuck off. I’ll be upstairs attempting to work, if you need me.’
I just about managed not to throw the offending blueberries at his retreating ba
ck as he left the room and instead burst into frustrated, exhausted tears. I sank to the floor and sobbed, as Theo, who had fallen quiet, watched me contemplatively. Instantly, guilt flooded over me. He shouldn’t be seeing or hearing stuff like this.
‘Everything is OK,’ I said aloud, and smiled shakily. I wasn’t sure who I was trying to reassure, me or him.
I let my head hang for a moment, then got to my feet and tremulously got a drink of water from the tap, which I gulped quickly before reaching over to grab the unwanted plastic punnets and sweep them into the bin. It hadn’t been me that had ordered too many, it was far more likely to be an online technical glitch.
I was almost sure of it.
After an hour of rocking Theo in his room, I tiptoed downstairs and slumped down gratefully at the kitchen table. It was a small thing, but I’d ordered a fresh almond croissant. The high point of an otherwise pretty crappy morning. I reached for the patisserie bag, slid out the pastry, lifted it to my lips and… through the baby monitor, I heard my son cough, and then start to wail.
‘You have got to be kidding me,’ I said aloud, in amazement. I glanced at the clock. Ten minutes. He’d been asleep for ten minutes. I took a deep breath, put the croissant down, and went back upstairs.
Hey, I’m sorry I just missed your call. I texted Liv, glancing at a still out-of-it Theo in the rear-view mirror. I’m sitting in the car on the drive, engine going, having just been for a spin up the A26 with Theo to get him to go to sleep. Things we do eh? If I talk I’ll wake him.
You poor thing came back her instant response. Just wanted to check you were OK and see if you wanted to talk re the row?
I considered that briefly, then replied. Am OK.
You sure?
I paused, then confessed. Matthew told me he thinks he could be ‘happy with someone else’. TBF that was after I told him to leave if we were making him so unhappy… sigh… In other news, I was getting Chloe dressed this morn and she told me my boobs look ‘low’.
You’re both very tired at moment. Easy to say things you don’t mean, and he probably said that to you because that’s HIS biggest fear. That’s what his dad did to his mum and him, isn’t it, just left? Re boobs: !!! What did you say?