But I Said Forever

by Jennifer Gilby Roberts

  “Okay,” she says, rubbing her tummy again. “In the meantime, do you think anyone would mind if I took off my bra?”

  When I get home that night, I find Mel on Facebook chat.

  Brittany: How does it feel to have added to the teenage pregnancy rate?

  Mel: Huh?

  Brittany: Abby’s pregnant.

  Mel: Oh, crap. How’s she taking it?

  Brittany: Well, she hasn’t run away screaming.

  Mel: Better than I would have, then.

  Brittany: She’s very cheerful, actually. She instantly started talking about shopping for baby clothes.

  Mel: What about Toby?

  Brittany: Don’t know yet.

  Mel: Oops. Let me know what happens. How are things your end?

  Brittany: Well, I know what Phillip’s doing in that house.

  Mel: What?

  Brittany: Paying a woman to dress up in a leather bikini and beat him.

  Mel: OMG, are you serious?!

  Brittany: I’m afraid so

  Mel: Have you moved out yet?

  Brittany: No.

  Mel: Why not? You’re not actually going to STAY with him, are you?

  Brittany: It’s more complicated than that. There are financial issues, we have a child together, I made vows…

  Mel: Yeah, but this has got to break them, right? You can’t let him get away with it. I mean, if he’s doing that now, what’s he going to be doing in five years? These things escalate, you know. Like with serial killers.

  Brittany: I don’t think this is quite in that league.

  Mel: Maybe not, but you’ve got to do SOMETHING. Otherwise, you’re basically saying it’s okay.

  Brittany: I’m going to discuss it with him.

  Mel: When?

  Good question. I’ve been putting it off and putting it off.

  Brittany: Soon.

  Mel: When exactly?

  I sigh. I know I need to. I also know that Mel is now going to badger me about it until I do.

  Brittany: When we’re next home at the same time. I can’t very well bring it up when he’s just finished a shift.

  Mel: Okay, but promise you will?

  I take a deep breath.

  Brittany: I promise.

  Thursday morning rolls around and I walk slowly from the bus stop, a little worried about what I might find. Toby and Abby will both be in today and things will be the tiniest bit awkward if Abby’s revelation didn’t go down well.

  They’re both waiting outside the door as usual, and they don’t look like they’re not speaking. They’re standing close to each other, holding hands.

  Abby spots me and waves frantically. “B! Guess what? We’re engaged!”

  Engaged? She’s practically a child and they hardly know each other. What is she thinking?

  I guess I should know.

  “That’s… wonderful,” I say, when I get close enough. “Congratulations! What a beautiful ring.”

  “I know! Isn’t it gorgeous? Me and Toby went shopping yesterday. It’s an antic!”

  “Antique, I think you mean,” I say, smiling. “It’s very lovely. Is that a ruby?”

  “Garnet,” Toby says, giving her a kiss. “With a diamond either side. It’s not nearly as big as you deserve. When I’m a rich man, I’ll buy you one so large you won’t be able to lift your hand.”

  “Morning all,” Kristine says, striding up. “Everyone ready to work hard?”

  “We’re engaged!”

  “I’ll take that as a no.” She swiftly unlocks the grating and pulls it up. “Many congratulations to you both. We’ll have a drink to celebrate. After work.”

  “Oh, I can’t drink,” Abby says, beaming. “I’m pregnant.”

  Kristine’s hand pauses on the door handle. “Two for you then, Toby. And maybe the rest of us as well…”

  My next day off coincides with Phillip being on nights and I resolve to tackle him once he’s up and about. Consequently, I spend the whole day experiencing varying degrees of fear.

  James and I spend the morning in the garden, playing in the sand pit and crawling around on the grass. Him, that is, not me. The day is warmer than it’s been for a long while, sunny and still. Almost idyllic. It seems unnatural that I could be about to destroy it all.

  James has just gone down for his long nap when I hear the office door shut and know that Phillip is up and about. Things seem to be working out perfectly. I have no excuse to avoid this discussion. I make my way along to the office, taking the baby monitor with me, and knock.

  “Enter.”

  I go in and settle myself in the uncomfortable chair. But this time I lower it down so I can put my feet on the floor. Much better.

  “What can I do for you?”

  It’s like I’m one of his patients.

  I debate for a minute about where to begin and then decide to go right for it. “I know about the house. About what happens there.”

  I expected shock at being found out, anger that I’ve been checking up on him, or shame at what he’s been doing. Instead, he blinks and says, “I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s not something you should concern yourself with.”

  I blink back. “Isn’t it?”

  “Naturally, I’m not expecting you to take part in anything like that.”

  Goodness, that never even occurred to me. What if Mel’s right and it escalates? I couldn’t beat him. I can’t even kill spiders.

  “Well, good, but don’t you think it’s a problem?”

  “Not at all. It’s a private arrangement and I keep it entirely separate from my home life. If you’ll only put it out of your mind, we won’t have a problem.”

  I sit there, uncertain how to talk to a man I very clearly don’t know at all. “Phillip, I can’t forget it. You’re married to me and you’re doing all these things with other women.”

  “There’s no intercourse involved and you’re perfectly safe. I haven’t brought anything nasty home in the last five years, have I?”

  So it has been going on all along, and I never suspected a thing. Does that mean I’m blind, or is he a really good liar?

  “That’s not the point.” I take a deep breath. “Phillip, this can’t continue. If you’re not prepared to stop... Well, I think we should consider a divorce.”

  That should make him think.

  “Over that? That’s completely unnecessary. My parents have had this sort of arrangement for decades with no problems.”

  I goggle at him. I suddenly see both his parents in an entirely different light. They seem so straight-laced. But then, so does he.

  “That’s as may be,” I say, when I’ve recovered myself, “but I’m not prepared to accept it. In any case, I think we both know our marriage is over in everything but name.”

  I didn’t mean to say that, but... it’s true.

  He sits back in his chair, looking genuinely taken aback. “What makes you say that?”

  “Phillip, I can count on one hand the number of hours you’ve spent with James and I since we moved down here. Two hands would probably cover all the time since he was born.”

  “Taking care of him isn’t my department, is it? Not until he’s older and needs instruction. And you always accompany me when we go out.”

  “Yes, but…” I feel this conversation rapidly slipping away from me and fall silent.

  “We discussed all that before we got married,” Phillip says, drumming his fingers on the desk. “You willingly agreed to support my career by taking care of things at home. I’m not happy that you now want to take outside employment, but I’m a reasonable man and so I am prepared to tolerate it so long as you don’t neglect your more important duties. We’ll need to add another heir, but you still have plenty of good breeding years left so that can be put off for a while if you wish.”

  I look at my hands. One of my nails is chipped - I must remember to redo it. “We never discussed you using those… services.”

  “It’s hardly the type of thing a man wo
uld discuss with a nicely-brought-up young lady.”

  Would I have been shocked if he’d brought it up? Yes, most definitely. Would I still have married him? No, I wouldn’t. And I think even Dad would have supported me in that.

  “You thought it would be better if I found out after we were married?”

  “I never expected you to find out at all. And if it hadn’t been for you bringing interfering strangers into our household, you never would have.”

  “How did you…?” I quickly stop myself.

  “The timing was hardly likely to be coincidental.”

  I look at the man I swore to spend the rest of my life with. “So, are you happy with our marriage as it is? Is this what you expected it to be like?”

  “More or less.”

  Looking back, we never said that we would spend time as a couple, or that we would be equal partners in raising our children, or even that we would be faithful to each other. I assumed those things came as standard when you married the handsome prince,

  “I’m not,” I say. “I don’t want an arrangement, I want… love. Family. A career of my own, however humble, that isn’t treated like a dirty little secret. I don’t feel that’s unreasonable of me, and if you’re not willing to accommodate it…” My heart starts pounding and my mouth goes dry as I try to form the words. “… I think a divorce may be the only option.”

  Phillip looks at me for a long minute. “I’m going to forget that this conversation ever took place and I expect you to do the same.”

  “Phillip…”

  “A divorce is simply out of the question.”

  I sit there, uncertain of how to proceed. What else can we do? “Well then… we need to look at some kind of therapy for you. And marriage guidance as well.”

  “I don’t need therapy.”

  “Phillip…”

  “Brittany, human beings have a range of different desires. I take steps to satisfy mine in a safe and private environment. As I’ve said, I don’t require you to do anything other than ignore it.”

  “You’re not willing to stop?”

  “I don’t see any reason why I should have to.”

  The way he talks almost makes me feel that I’m being unreasonable. Like I’m demanding he gives up his interest in stamp collecting or something. I know it’s important that both of you feel fulfilled in a marriage, but this is too much to ask, surely?

  “If that’s all, I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  Slowly I get up and make my way out of the office and along to the balcony off the master suite. I have to wrap myself in my dressing gown to stay warm enough as I sit and try to sort out my thoughts.

  My conscience keeps telling me that marrying and having a son with this man means I’m committed for life. Like when they put you in an asylum and throw away the key. But this? It’s not only that I can’t understand why he would want to do it, it’s that he’s done this behind my back all along and sees nothing wrong with that. And he’s freely admitted he wants nothing more from our marriage than what we have now and my silence. The last few conversations we’ve had have destroyed every idea I had about the basis of my marriage - about who I married. It turns out Prince Charming was an evil wizard in disguise, but since I’ve signed the magic scroll he owns me.

  Except, he doesn’t. I could divorce him - this must be grounds enough. And I’m honestly not sure I can continue. I’m 23 years old and the rest of my life must be worth more than this.

  But can I really go against everything I was taught, leave behind every promise of security and break my parents’ hearts?

  Chapter 14

  One of that week’s lunch breaks gets sacrificed for a trip to a local solicitor. He’s very helpful and assures me that a divorce is possible. ‘Irreconcilable differences’ unfortunately doesn’t exist in the UK, but apparently ‘unreasonable behaviour’ is very loosely applied. In any case, he feels that regular visits to a dominatrix would qualify.

  What he does do, though, is ask a lot of questions about where I’ll want to live, what financial settlement I’ll be looking for and what custody arrangements I want to suggest. I leave his office feeling overwhelmed by all the decisions I need to make. My insides feel tight and my breathing is shallow. I have to stop and take calming breaths before I can go back to work.

  All afternoon I go through the motions while my mind whirls away. There’s so much I don’t know, so much I’ve never done before. How am I supposed to cope?

  Maybe I can get over this and forget it, like Phillip said I should. My situation isn’t so very bad. I’m sure there are plenty of women out there who would gladly take my place.

  I just wish I knew where to start.

  As promised, Phillip says nothing more on the subject. But, a few days later, Lauren meets me in the hall when I get in from work. “There’s a woman here who claims to be James’s grandmother,” she says.

  “Does she look a bit like Judy Dench?”

  “A slightly threatening version, yes.”

  “That’s her.”

  “Oh good, because she’s chucked me out of the living room.”

  The mere fact that Lauren allowed herself to be chucked out of anywhere tells you everything you need to know about my mother-in-law.

  “Consider yourself relieved for the night,” I say, forcing my shoulders to straighten. “I’ll go in.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Thank you.”

  I’ll need it.

  I push open the door to the lounge, trying to look poised yet relaxed.

  “Brittany, darling.”

  This is not a term of affection.

  “Hello, Cordelia, how nice to see you.”

  We exchange cheek kisses. I breathe in a perfume I can’t name, but can tell you is ridiculously expensive.

  “Phillip didn’t mention you were coming down.”

  “A flying visit en route to elsewhere.” She hands me James, who greets me by burping in my face. I hold him close, like a human shield.

  “I spoke to Phillip and I gathered you were in need of counsel.”

  Please don’t tell me he discussed this with his mother.

  “You’re feeling uneasy about his hobby.”

  Hobby? It’s hardly on a par with flower-arranging.

  “I’m not entirely happy about it, no.”

  “Why don’t you get your nanny to put James to bed and we can discuss it?”

  As Mel is fond of saying, I’d rather hack off a limb.

  “Of course.” I use the internal phone system to call Lauren, who comes back without a fight and takes James.

  “Now, Brittany.” Phillip’s mother settles herself elegantly onto the sofa. “Tell me what’s bothering you about this.”

  I stare at my hands and start twisting my wedding ring round and round my finger. How do I answer that? Who else would ask that?

  “Because it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

  Fortunately, I may not actually be required to speak.

  “I’m sure Phillip will have told you that his father has similar interests and has done for many years.”

  “Doesn’t that bother you?” I blurt out.

  Phillip’s mother tilts her head slightly as she looks at me. “Brittany, do you know why Phillip’s father and I didn’t object to him marrying you?”

  In younger, more naïve days, I thought it was because they knew he was in love with me and wanted him to be happy. Something tells me she would laugh if I said that. That is, if the botox allowed it.

  “It was because we felt that, although you hadn’t had the right upbringing, you did have the right foundation. You were willing to improve yourself in the areas where you were lacking and, most importantly, you’d been instilled with the right expectations of marriage. My only concern was that rebellious sister of yours, but she didn’t seem to have a great deal of influence over you so I was prepared to overlook that. However, of late you seem to be forgetting your position.”

  She fixes
me with a smile and two icy blue eyes exactly like Phillip’s. “You have gained a great deal through marriage into this family,” she says. “In return for that, there are certain things that you are expected to do and not do, to remember and to forget. It’s that simple. The sooner you reconcile yourself to that again, the better.”

  I look away. “I don’t know if I can do that. Phillip’s… interests… are too much for me to tolerate.”

  “But what is your alternative?”

  “I have a job now,” I say. “I have options.”

  She shakes her head sadly. “Brittany, what you have is a hobby. You work in a shop, presumably for not much more than minimum wage. It may seem enjoyable now, while it has novelty and impermanence on its side, but when you depend on it for your livelihood and come home to whatever basic residence it enables you to afford, you will find that it quickly loses its appeal.”

  Is she right? I know some people hate their jobs, but is that because of the job or because they’re dependent on it? It’s true that my work at the bakery isn’t particularly exciting or meaningful. If I left Phillip and went out on my own, would I wish myself back?

  “We wouldn’t only have my wages,” I say. “Phillip would have to pay child support.”

  “Certainly our grandson would be provided for, but I think you’ll find there won’t be a great deal for you to indulge yourself with. Our lawyers will see to that.”

  Phillip’s lawyers. Who have worked for the family for generations and will be provided with unlimited funds, while I’ll struggle to afford a solicitor at all.

  “And you may find James finds his father’s lifestyle a good deal more attractive than his mother’s once he’s of an age to form an opinion.”

  I’m afraid. Terribly afraid.

  Phillip’s mother pats my knee. “I’ll leave you to think about what I’ve said,” she says, as she rises elegantly. “I think you’ll find, when you think carefully about it, that you’re better off where you are. Give my love to Phillip.”