The Man I Didn't Marry

by Anna Bell

  She sighs loudly.

  ‘Fine, but I’m coming into the house as it’s bloody freezing out here. Why is it so cold?’

  ‘Because it’s England and it’s autumn.’

  ‘I knew there was a reason I’d left this bloody place,’ she says, her teeth chattering.

  ‘Stay here,’ I say firmly, as she crosses over the threshold into the hallway.

  I walk back into the kitchen and I’m wondering how I’m going to get Mick to come out when I find that Max is now sitting back down staring between Mick and Graham. Sasha walks over to me and I scoop her up onto my hip.

  ‘Everything OK?’ I ask.

  ‘I think Max might be having a funny turn,’ says Judy. ‘Who was at the door?’

  ‘Oh yes, Mick, there was a—’

  The kitchen door opens and in glides Ruby.

  ‘Ah, hello everyone,’ she says, standing with her leg out and her hand on her hip like she’s posing at the end of a runway.

  Graham, Judy and Mick spin their heads, their mouths agape.

  Max looks up at her with curiosity and I can tell he’s trying to work out who she is.

  ‘This is Ruby—’ says Mick.

  ‘The Pilates instructor,’ says Judy, finishing my sentence.

  ‘Oh, you’re the Pilates instructor,’ says Max, staring at her before he turns to Graham.

  Mick looks pale, which is no mean feat with his tan that doesn’t seem to have faded.

  ‘Ruby,’ he says. ‘I wasn’t expecting you.’

  ‘Clearly,’ she says, folding her arms together. ‘And you look like crap. Hungover?’

  He hangs his head in shame.

  ‘Graham came over for drinks last night.’

  ‘Oh, did he now? And he’s still here this morning,’ she says with an exaggerated wink. ‘Where was my invite?’

  ‘Oh God,’ says Max, leaping up again and backing away from the table. ‘You’re at it too?’

  Everyone turns to look at him, taking in his horrified look.

  ‘Has this been going on for years?’

  ‘A few,’ says Ruby, flicking her hair back.

  Max shakes his head. ‘It was bad enough that the three of you were swinging, but this… is there anyone else I should know about? Is it like some sort of club you belong to?’

  I squeeze Sasha in closer, relieved that she’s too young to understand what’s going on and that’s she’s more interested in trying to strangle me with my own necklace.

  ‘Swinging,’ says Judy in a high-pitched squeak. ‘Swinging…? Swinging.’

  She’s stuck on a word and she looks like she’s going to spontaneously combust out of mortification at the insinuation.

  ‘Swinging,’ says Ruby, her nostrils flaring. ‘I knew it, Mick! I knew that you two being under the same roof again would come to something like this.’

  ‘Max, there’s no swinging going on,’ says Graham, by contrast, speaking in a calm voice.

  ‘I don’t know what you call it then – a threesome,’ he says.

  Judy wails.

  ‘There’s nothing like that going on,’ says Graham.

  ‘And the three of you went to Paris together,’ says Max, rapidly blinking like he’s trying to process everything.

  ‘Paris,’ says Ruby, her hands flying up in the air. ‘You told me Max and Ellie went to Paris, not you three.’

  ‘But I saw you coming out of their room this morning. Are you trying to tell me that I didn’t see that? And you kept talking about aching and bending over,’ he says, shuddering and pointing at his Mum.

  ‘Mick was trying to teach us Pilates,’ says Judy.

  Ruby scoffs, ‘That old chestnut.’

  Max and Ruby are staring hard at Judy, Mick and Graham, each of them having got the wrong end of the stick.

  ‘Um, guys,’ I say. Ruby looks at me furiously for interrupting and I back up a little, taking Sasha with me.

  ‘You did see me coming out of Judy’s bedroom, Max,’ says Graham, standing up slowly. ‘But it’s not what you think. Judy, Mick, I think it’s time to tell him the truth. There’s just two of us in a relationship.’

  Max staggers backwards and looks between them.

  ‘You and… Dad,’ he says, ‘I guess that would explain the three-week golf trip.’

  ‘What?’ says Mick. ‘No, no, no. That’s not what’s going on.’

  He looks pleadingly at Judy and she sighs.

  ‘Max, I think it’s time to sit down,’ she says, guiding him into a chair and sitting down beside him. ‘It’s not your dad who’s having a relationship with Graham, it’s me.’

  ‘And you know about this?’ he says, looking at Mick aghast. ‘And what, you turn a blind eye?’

  Mick takes a deep breath and shuffles his chair closer to Max’s.

  ‘We didn’t want to tell you this at first as we didn’t want to upset you, but your mum and I… we split up a few years ago. I now live in Portugal with Ruby here. Ruby is my girlfriend,’ he says, sighing.

  ‘So she’s not your Pilates teacher?’

  ‘She was, that’s how we met.’ His voice is raw with emotion. ‘I met her when I moved to Portugal.’

  Max is looking between them all as he takes it all in.

  ‘You’re separated, and you’re dating him?’ Max says, turning to Judy before he turns to Mick. ‘And you’re dating her?’

  He looks shellshocked and he closes his eyes for a second. I want to go to him, to hold him, but now’s not the time; now he needs to hear the truth.

  ‘But why did you move to Portugal? Why didn’t you go, Mum?’

  Judy takes hold of his hands.

  ‘Your Dad and I—’ she says, taking a deep breath. ‘It wasn’t really working and I don’t think I saw that at the time, but your dad went away and he didn’t come back.’

  ‘You walked out on Mum?’ he says, turning to him, his face in a scowl.

  ‘Max—’ starts Mick.

  ‘No, I don’t want to hear it,’ he says, standing up again. ‘Let me get this straight, you’ve been pretending to be together this whole time?’

  ‘We didn’t plan to do it,’ says Judy. ‘I hadn’t wanted to upset you at first by telling you, but I didn’t expect your dad to turn up on our doorstep. So I panicked and pretended to still be married to him. But you have to remember at that point we all thought your memory would be coming back any second and we didn’t want to upset you any more in case it made it worse.’

  ‘It’s been almost four weeks,’ says Max. ‘Were you ever going to tell me the truth?’

  ‘Ellie’s been trying to get us to,’ says Judy. ‘That’s why we came to dinner last week, but you looked so happy after Paris.’

  ‘I don’t believe you. I don’t believe any of you. You’ve been lying to me this whole time. What else are you lying to me about?’

  He turns and looks straight at me.

  ‘How much of what I think is true actually is?’ There’s an edge creeping into his voice that makes me shudder.

  ‘Max, I promise you and me, it was all real,’ I say.

  ‘Don’t bring her into it, Max,’ says Mick, standing up, ‘she kept wanting us to tell you. It’s all my fault; if you want to blame someone, blame me. Judy was trying to protect you from getting unnecessarily hurt, but I didn’t tell you because I was being selfish. I’ve never regretted anything more in my life than losing you these last few years. But these past four weeks, they’ve been the best weeks of my life.’

  ‘Thank you very much,’ says Ruby, folding her arms across her chest.

  Mick sighs.

  ‘It’s true. I thought I’d lost you forever and to have you back in my life… I know it was wrong.’

  Mick wipes away a tear that’s rolling down his cheek and he takes a step closer.

  ‘Don’t,’ says Max. ‘I don’t want to hear it.’

  He storms out of the kitchen and I pop Sasha into Judy’s arms and go after him.

  ‘Max, wait, please,’ I sa
y.

  ‘No, Ellie. Do you have any idea what it’s like having no memory of your life and relying on the people you’re supposed to trust the most to tell you what has happened? I don’t know what to think any more. I just need to get out.’

  ‘Do you want me to come?’

  ‘No, I want to be alone,’ he says, walking towards the front door then slamming it behind him.

  I can hear raised voices coming from the kitchen and I go in to collect Sasha.

  No one notices that I’ve come back in and they are all shouting at each other, spouting blame at every turn.

  ‘Quiet,’ I shout, and the four of them are stunned into silence and Sasha bursts into tears. I go and pick her up from Judy and squeeze her tight to reassure her. ‘Arguing isn’t going to help to sort this mess out. Max is really hurt that we’ve all lied to him.’

  ‘Do you think he’ll forgive us?’ says Judy, sitting down on a chair.

  ‘I hope so, but I’ve never seen him that angry before.’

  ‘I have,’ says Mick, pain in his eyes.

  ‘It’s my fault,’ says Judy. ‘It was my stupid idea. I didn’t want to see him get hurt and now we’ve hurt him worse than ever.’

  ‘No, it’s mine for being selfish,’ Mick says.

  ‘Look, the question here isn’t about blame. You made a decision with his best interests at heart but it didn’t pan out the way you intended.’

  I try and soothe Sasha who’s still making squeaky half-sobbing noises.

  ‘Well, now that it’s all out in the open there’s no need to stick around, is there?’ says Ruby. ‘He’s back to hating you so you can come back to Portugal with me.’

  Mick sighs. ‘I’m not leaving him a second time. I’m going to check into a hotel, like I should have done initially. He’s going to have questions and I want to be here to answer them. Judy, if he comes back, will you let me know?’

  ‘And I’m going to head off too,’ says Graham. ‘You’re going to have to work this all out as a family.’

  ‘But you’re part of the family,’ says Judy, reaching out and grabbing his hand.

  ‘Give Max some time to get used to the idea,’ he says, leaning down and giving her a kiss on the head. He turns to Mick and gives him a pat on the back. ‘The one thing we can take from this is that it brought us back to speaking terms, eh?’

  ‘That it did.’ Mick nods and stands up. ‘I’ll go and pack my suitcase.’

  Judy looks over at Ruby.

  ‘I guess I’ll go and wait outside. It’s frostier in here than it is out there,’ she says, walking out with a wiggle in her hips.

  ‘Oh, Ellie, what have I done?’ says Judy, hanging her head in her hands.

  ‘He’ll come around.’

  Seeing as though we’re no longer heading on our day trip, I go over and flick the kettle on because everyone knows the only thing to do in a crisis is to make tea.

  ‘I hope you’re right because I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Max.’

  And I know how she feels because I feel exactly the same.

  Chapter 22

  I’ve always wondered if anyone actually likes baby showers. As a mum-to-be I hate the idea of everyone gathering to give me presents and play socially uncomfortable games. It’s the last place I’d want to be on a normal day, let alone when I feel like I should be comforting my husband.

  After finding out the truth about his parents yesterday, Max briefly came home to pick up some of his things and then he headed off to stay with Rach. He didn’t want to talk and I didn’t want to force him. He said that Rach was the only person that would truly understand what he was going through, and he’s right.

  I’d thought about not coming to Anneka’s baby shower and then I remembered that it’s Anneka and she’s still pretty terrifying, plus there’s a chance that her friend Ninny might be able to shed some light on Anne, who I’d almost forgotten about in all of yesterday’s drama. Judy insisted that she wanted to look after Sasha, to take her mind off things, and so here I am.

  I could have guessed that any baby shower Anneka had would be extra, but, as Polly and I pull up on the drive, we get a taste of just how over-the-top it’s going to be.

  ‘Is that a pony?’ gasps Polly.

  ‘I think it is,’ I say, walking closer towards it to see that it’s got a horn attached to its browband to make it look like a unicorn. Only Anneka would have a unicorn at her party.

  ‘If that’s what’s outside, what the hell is going to be inside?’

  We exchange glances and Polly rings the doorbell. It’s quickly answered by someone dressed in a pale-pink dress.

  ‘Welcome to Anneka’s baby shower,’ she says with a smile. She hands us a unicorn headband to wear. ‘Please have your photo taken behind the frame and remember to tag it on Instagram!’

  I look over at the cardboard photo booth with a big #babyFernleyMatthewLowe hashtag sign underneath.

  ‘Not exactly a catchy hashtag. You wonder why she didn’t shorten it to #babyFML… oh,’ says Polly, giggling. We stand behind it and the woman takes the photos for us.

  We spot Helen over in the corner and she waves us over.

  ‘What are you doing here? You do know you’re here on time, right?’ I say.

  ‘I was fucking early,’ she says, sipping on a pink drink. ‘I’d cottoned on the fact that Anneka keeps inviting me places an hour earlier than you’re all meeting, so I’ve started adjusting accordingly. Today she told me it started three hours ago.’

  ‘So, you’ve been here ages.’

  ‘Ten minutes. But in those ten minutes I’ve wanted to tear my eyeballs out. She’s even given us a headband to wear that’s turned us into an actual dickhead.’

  ‘You know it’s supposed to be a unicorn? I take it that unicorns aren’t really your thing?’ I say softly, not wanting to provoke the rage.

  ‘Nope, and neither are pastel fucking colours.’

  ‘Ladies, you’re here,’ says Anneka, drifting over. She’s wearing a floor-length pastel-pink dress with a giant slit up one side, and her hair has been tonged into loose curls pinned to the side with little flowers that remind me of the unicorn cakes you see on Instagram.

  ‘This is wonderful,’ I say, leaning into a hug and bashing bumps.

  ‘It’s nothing. Just a little something I threw together.’

  Helen rolls her eyes.

  ‘Yes, I can see you blowing up a zillion balloons yourself.’

  ‘Ha, I caught my stepchildren raiding my gin collection and I made them blow them all up as punishment.’

  ‘You’re so mean,’ I say, secretly impressed.

  ‘Just fulfilling my job as wicked stepmother. I think they’ve probably been raiding it for years but you don’t tend to notice an inch or two of gin missing when you’re drinking that every night yourself, but seeing as I’ve been sober for eight months it’s easier to keep track of these things.’

  ‘My mum used to mark all the bottles,’ says Polly.

  ‘Mine too, but I used to fill up my bottle and then top up hers with water,’ says Helen.

  ‘Didn’t they cotton on?’ I take a pink mocktail from a passing waiter.

  ‘No, they only brought them all out once a year at their New Year’s Eve party, and what was funny was watching all these adults thinking they were super pissed when in reality the vodka Cokes they were drinking were in fact ninety per cent water.’

  We all laugh.

  ‘Is George here today?’ I say, looking round, hoping to catch a glimpse of her elusive husband.

  ‘Oh no, it’s Saturday. George will be on the golf course all day today.’

  ‘Wise man,’ says Helen. ‘Men have it easy with babies, don’t they? They don’t have to sit around being polite to people, playing shitty games and spending money on a present for both the baby and the mum. Instead they get to go out on a night out with the other dads and get absolutely shit-faced, all in the name of wetting the baby’s head. We’re the ones that had our b
odies stretched and torn and we’re the ones that have to stay at home and look after the baby alone whilst they do goodness knows what.’

  ‘And breathe,’ I say.

  ‘But I’m right, though, I’m fucking right?’

  ‘You are,’ says Polly. ‘I’d never really thought about it before. But it should be us going out and wetting that baby’s head.’

  ‘Yes, it should,’ says Helen. ‘But nature doesn’t work that way, does it? We’ll probably be on-demand breastfeeding, or so sore we can’t sit down, or too fucking knackered to want to leave the house in anything other than sweatpants.’

  ‘And so, anyway, lovely baby shower, Anneka. You’ve done such a wonderful job with the theme,’ I say, raising my glass.

  ‘Oh yes, it’s just beautiful,’ says Polly.

  ‘Yes, yes, beautiful,’ says Helen, reaching for a handful of biscuits that a waitress offers to us. ‘And at least there are biscuits.’

  ‘They’re kale cookies,’ says Anneka as soon as Helen’s taken her first bite.

  Helen wrinkles her face as she continues to chew and Anneka gives her a little wave and glides off.

  ‘How did they taste?’ asks Polly.

  ‘Not too bad,’ she says when she finally stops chewing, ‘although there is a bit of an aftertaste.’

  She reaches for her drink and downs it.

  ‘I’ve been eyeing up that big unicorn cake for a while but now I’m not so keen. It’s probably spinach flavoured,’ she says with a sigh.

  ‘Is everything OK with you today?’ I say gently.

  ‘What, are you saying I’m being even more of a bitch today?’ she says.

  ‘No.’ Polly and I quickly shake our heads.

  Helen raises an eyebrow.

  ‘Let’s just say that you’re not your usual happy self,’ I say, trying to be diplomatic.

  ‘It’s Toby, the saga of his back has got worse. He’s been signed off work so now he’s at home too.’

  ‘Oh lovely,’ says Polly. ‘You get to have that extra quality time together before the baby comes.’

  ‘It’s the worst bloody thing that’s happened. I went to lie on the sofa to eat crumpets and binge watch Queer Eye and he’d beaten me to it. He was watching some crime-lord drama and eating all the good chocolate I’d been saving for my hospital bag.