The Marriage Mender

by Linda Green

  ‘It’s OK,’ I said. ‘We’ll find a way through this together. It might take time, but we’ll get there.’

  Bob nodded solemnly. Jayne took another tissue from the box.

  * * *

  Debbie was picking Matilda up after school. We’d arranged the play date – or rather, Matilda and Sophie had arranged it – the previous week. As it happened, it couldn’t have been better timing. I wanted to be there when Josh came home from school. To grab that small window of time before Chris came home from work to be able to talk to him alone.

  I hadn’t spoken to Chris all day. I’d sent him a text telling him I loved him. I’d got one straight back saying the same thing. It was from his outbox. Number three on the scroll-down menu after ‘I’ll pick Tilda up from school’ and ‘Have we got anything planned for Saturday?’

  He didn’t do weddings if he could help it. He’d never advertised himself as a wedding photographer. But word got around, people passed on numbers and, if he took a family portrait they liked, people assumed that he’d be up to do weddings. And sometimes he did. If he was having a quiet month, and if they asked nicely, and particularly if they agreed to his suggestion to shoot it reportage-style in black and white. Anyone who asked for stiff, formal, bride’s-side-of-the-family group shots was told that, unfortunately, he was unavailable that weekend. Even if we had nothing on at all.

  It was four thirty before I heard Josh’s key in the door. Maybe he’d gone to Tom’s house. Perhaps they’d gone down to Hebden to hang out for a bit. Or maybe he’d just needed some time alone.

  I heard him throw his rucksack down in the hall. He came straight through to the kitchen.

  ‘I’m going to meet her,’ he said.

  ‘OK,’ I said, drying my hands on the towel and turning to face him.

  ‘If I don’t like her, I won’t see her again.’

  ‘Fine, you call the shots on this one.’

  ‘Is Dad going to be mad at me?’

  I shook my head. ‘No, but he’s going to find it hard. We need to give him some space and time to get his head around it all.’

  ‘Where shall I meet her?’

  ‘Well, probably not best to ask her here. Somewhere neutral where you’ll both feel comfortable. The Milk Bar in Hebden, maybe?’

  Josh shrugged. No doubt he considered himself too old for it now, but he was at that awkward age which was also too young for pubs.

  ‘I guess so,’ he said.

  ‘Do you want someone to come with you?’

  ‘I’m not a kid.’

  ‘I know. But it might be a bit awkward, and I expect you’ll both be feeling a little nervous. And sometimes it’s just better to have someone else with you to help break the ice.’

  He thought for a moment. ‘Not Dad,’ he said.

  I breathed a silent sigh of relief that I wasn’t going to have to ask him.

  ‘You can come. Just the first time, though. If I decide to see her again, I’ll be fine by myself.’

  ‘OK. How soon do you want to arrange it?’

  ‘Soon.’

  ‘What about the weekend? Saturday afternoon, maybe. Dad’s not working, so he could have Matilda.’

  ‘Are you going to tell her?’

  ‘I don’t know. I think I probably should do. I don’t want to have to lie to her about where we’re going.’

  ‘She’ll want to come too.’

  ‘I’ll explain to her that she can’t.’

  ‘OK. Saturday afternoon, then. I’ll text her. I don’t want to speak to her. Not before I’ve actually met her. I think it’s better that way.’

  I nodded. ‘Sure. Just let me know when you’ve got a time sorted.’

  ‘Will you tell Dad?’

  I nodded again.

  ‘And are you sure he won’t be mad at me?’

  ‘He won’t. I promise.’

  He nodded and walked out of the kitchen.

  A few seconds later, I heard him going upstairs, his footsteps seemingly lighter than they had been the day before.

  * * *

  I waited until we were lying in bed at night to tell Chris. I felt his body tense next to mine. He said nothing. I took his hand. It felt colder than usual.

  ‘He might only see her the once,’ I said.

  ‘And then again, he might not.’

  ‘We don’t know how long she’ll be around. Or if she’ll want to see him again. She might find it too upsetting.’

  I knew even before the last word had fully left my mouth that I’d said the wrong thing.

  ‘What’s she got to be upset about?’ said Chris, turning to look at me with a frown.

  ‘What I meant to say is, it’s not going to be easy for her, seeing him after all this time.’

  ‘It was her choice to leave, remember.’

  ‘Yes, but we all do things we regret, don’t we?’

  ‘Name one of yours.’

  I thought for a minute. The only thing I could think of was wasting too many years with Matthew when I should have realised the relationship wasn’t going anywhere. But I wasn’t going to say that. One ex was enough in this conversation.

  ‘OK, so maybe I haven’t got anything as big as that, but you know what I mean. Let’s just leave it and see how the first meeting goes.’

  Chris said nothing. He let go of a small sigh. ‘This is doing my head in,’ he whispered.

  I slipped my arm around him, kissed him gently on the shoulder. ‘I’m not surprised. It’s a massive thing. It’s doing Josh’s head in as well, mind.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say to him.’

  ‘Well, just say something. He thinks you’re mad at him for wanting to see her.’

  ‘Did he say that?’

  I nodded.

  ‘OK. I’ll talk to him tomorrow. I thought I’d had all the awkward conversations with him when he was a kid. I didn’t think we’d ever have to go through all this again. It’s going to be on a whole new level now.’

  ‘He needs you, though, love. You’re the one constant thing in his life. Just let him know you understand that he wants to see her.’

  Chris turned and stared up at the ceiling. ‘I do,’ he said. ‘I understand completely. I’m scared, that’s all.’

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘That she’ll take him away from me.’

  ‘Of course she won’t. She couldn’t. Nobody could break what you two have.’

  ‘Nobody except a mother.’

  ‘He doesn’t know her. He can’t remember a thing about her. You’re the one who’s been there for him every step of the way. You’re the one he relies on. He’s not going to forget that simply because she’s finally putting in an appearance, is he?’

  ‘I guess not,’ he said.

  ‘I know not,’ I replied, putting my arms around him.

  Chris gave a tentative smile. Kissed me on the lips. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you,’ he whispered.

  ‘Well, that’s the one thing you don’t have to worry about,’ I said.

  He kissed me again. Harder this time. And with the type of intensity which was fuelled by insecurity. It didn’t matter what sparked it, though. What mattered was the connection. And what kept it burning. He moved his hand down between my legs. I arched my back and bit the pillow to stop myself moaning too loudly. I was lost to him. I always had been, right from the beginning.

  Soon he would be inside me. And the connection would be strengthened again.

  I actually stay up watching crap TV at night, just to avoid going to bed at the same time as him. Because I can’t bear for him to touch me or to breathe over me or even to speak to me. He makes my skin crawl.

  And that’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I mean, who’d want to live like that?

  And I think I’ve just woken up to the fact that I don’t have to live like that because, yes, I might spend the rest of my life on my own and die a sad and lonely old woman. But at least I’ll be able to go to bed when I want to.

  4

&nb
sp; I waited until the following Saturday morning to have ‘the conversation’ with Matilda, venturing into her room while she was playing. She hadn’t reached the age yet where she wanted a lock on her door or even when you had to knock to enter. She welcomed any visitors. The only danger was of being talked to death.

  ‘I’m doing Sooty and Sweep,’ she said from behind her puppet theatre. ‘You can do Soo, if you like.’

  I blamed Chris for our retro child. And the fact that there were far too many copies of classic seventies children’s shows available on eBay.

  ‘Actually, love, I wanted to have a chat with you about something.’

  ‘Yeah?’ she said, still inside the puppet theatre.

  I sat down on her bed and patted the duvet next to me. ‘Come and sit here.’

  She did as she was asked. Still with Sooty and Sweep on her hands, mind. It was like one of those softly, softly police interviews with children where they get them to talk about difficult things with the aid of puppets.

  ‘I’m taking Josh to meet someone this afternoon,’ I said, desperately trying to locate a casual, by-the-by tone.

  ‘Who?’ asked Matilda.

  ‘Remember that lady who came to the house with Josh’s present?’

  Matilda nodded.

  ‘Her.’

  ‘Why are you seeing her again? Has she got another present for Josh?’

  ‘No, love. We’re seeing her because she’s actually an important person in Josh’s life. Someone from a long time ago.’

  Matilda stared at me blankly. I was going to have to spell it out.

  ‘You know that I’m not Josh’s mummy? That he had a different mummy, but he doesn’t remember her because she left when he was a baby?’

  She nodded again. I took hold of her hand – or Sweep, to be more precise.

  ‘Well, that lady who came to the door is his real mummy. Her name is Lydia.’

  Matilda stared at me for a moment, a slight frown creasing her forehead. ‘Is she going to be his real mummy again? Is Josh going to go and live with her?’

  ‘No, love,’ I said, giving her hand a squeeze. ‘She just wants to meet him. And Josh has decided that he’d like to meet her too.’

  She remained staring at me. I could almost hear the cogs turning.

  ‘Why did she go away when he was little?’

  ‘It’s complicated. I don’t really know for sure. She must have had some kind of problem.’

  ‘But why couldn’t Daddy help her?’

  ‘It doesn’t always work like that, love,’ I said, stroking her hair.

  ‘You don’t know, do you?’

  ‘No.’ I smiled. ‘That’s why we’re going to meet her. Josh has got lots of questions for her too.’

  ‘Can I come?’

  ‘I’m sorry, love. It’s important that Josh gets a chance to talk to her on his own.’

  ‘But you’re going.’

  ‘Just to make sure he’s OK.’

  ‘Is she a stranger danger?’

  I sighed and cursed whatever it was they talked about in circle time at school. ‘No, love. I just want to be there for Josh. It’s a big deal for him.’

  ‘So who’s going to look after me?’

  ‘Daddy. He’s going to take you to the cinema. What was that film you wanted to see?’

  A huge smile spread across her face. ‘Paranorman. Really, am I going to see Paranorman?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Can I go now?’

  ‘In half an hour or so,’ I said.

  ‘Woo hoo!’

  She danced around the room with Sooty and Sweep. I waited a moment in case there were any more questions.

  ‘Can I make a zombie puppet when I get back?’ she asked.

  I smiled and nodded. Clearly, there were more pressing things on her mind.

  * * *

  I was about to leave when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. ‘Mumsy’ was the word which sprang to mind. Well-worn cardigan, tunic (to hide the fact that I had never regained my waist after Matilda), coupled with jeans which were just jeans, not any particular type of jeans. It wouldn’t usually have bothered me but I still had the image of Lydia in my head from our front doorstep. It wasn’t that I wanted to outdo her. She was clearly in an entirely different league to me. It was simply that I wanted to be able to sit at the same table as her without feeling that I was a member of an entirely different species.

  I ran back upstairs and riffled through my wardrobe. I opted for leggings instead of jeans. I wasn’t sure they made much difference so I put on a different tunic as well. And when that didn’t help much, I removed the cardigan. I would wear a jacket instead. A jacket would help.

  I went downstairs. Josh was waiting in the hallway. He was wearing jeans, a T-shirt and a hoody and was effortlessly hip with it. I tried to recall whether I’d been the slightest bit hip at his age. If I had, it certainly hadn’t been effortless.

  He glanced up at me. ‘Where’s your cardigan?’ he asked.

  He didn’t mean it nastily, I knew that. I also knew that Chris would have cracked up laughing, had he heard it.

  ‘I’m wearing a jacket,’ I replied, hooking one off the coat stand.

  He shrugged and opened the door. He looked even paler than usual.

  ‘Are you OK?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. He didn’t sound too sure, though.

  ‘Remember what Dad said. He’s OK with you seeing her.’

  ‘I know. It still feels wrong, though. Like I’m consorting with the enemy.’

  ‘She’s not the enemy.’

  Josh looked up at me. ‘Then why have I been hating her all these years?’

  * * *

  Lydia was already there when we arrived. I saw her through the glass as we approached the Milk Bar. Sitting on a high stool near the window, like some strategically placed mannequin designed to bring the punters in. There was something of the sixties about her. The long, straight limbs and the eyeliner. Her posture, even. I had no doubt that, pre-smoking ban, she would have been puffing away on a cigarette. She used to chain-smoke. Chris had told me that once. He’d blamed her for getting him started. And been cross with her for starting up again after Josh was born, though he’d managed to kick the habit for good by then.

  I glanced at Josh as we entered; his eyes were already on her. He was like a kid seeing an object of beauty for the first time. His mouth gaping slightly, his movements awkward and uncertain. We walked over to her. She was engrossed in the review section of the Guardian. And she had the air of someone who knew she didn’t need to look out for anyone, because she would be spotted first.

  ‘Hi,’ I said.

  She looked up, and her gaze passed straight over me to Josh. I saw the tears rush to her eyes, saw her swallow hard and look as if she might collapse for a moment. She didn’t, though.

  She slid down from her stool and smiled at him. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Thanks for coming.’

  A second later she had her arms around him. Not a big, embarrassing mother-bear-of-a-hug but a seemingly casual good-to-see-you embrace.

  Josh stepped back and glanced at me, as if to check that physical contact with his own mother was acceptable. I smiled at him, keen to reassure him that it was all right.

  ‘Can I get you a drink?’ I asked Lydia.

  ‘No, I’m fine, thanks,’ she said, pointing to a half-drunk cup of black coffee in front of her.

  ‘What would you like, Josh?’

  ‘A Coke, please,’ he replied.

  I nodded and went up to order. I glanced back over at them a couple of times. Josh had climbed up on the stool next to Lydia. They appeared to be talking to each other. I wondered if anyone looking at them would think they were mother and son. Probably not. She looked too hip to be anyone’s mother.

  I walked back to them, put my tea and Josh’s Coke down and wriggled up on to the stool in what I hoped was a not too embarrassing fashion. Lydia looked across at me as if seeing me for the first time. I won
dered what she made of me. Whether she was wondering how the hell Chris had ended up with someone like me.

  ‘Thanks for letting Josh come,’ she said. ‘And I’m sorry for turning up out of the blue like that.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ I said. ‘It was just a bit of a shock, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, please pass on my apologies to Chris. I didn’t mean to freak him out.’

  ‘Sure,’ I replied, trying to ignore the fact that the way she said Chris’s name made my stomach twist inside.

  ‘Your daughter’s beautiful,’ she said. ‘Her eyes are gorgeous.’

  I smiled, aware that any compliment on Matilda’s eyes would also apply to Chris’s. ‘Thanks,’ I said.

  ‘She’s crazy, actually,’ said Josh. ‘And incredibly loud and nosey.’

  Lydia smiled. ‘Bet you love her really.’

  ‘Course I do,’ he said. ‘She’s my sister.’

  His words hung in the air for a moment. Lydia took a sip of coffee.

  ‘Thanks for Josh’s present,’ I said.

  ‘That’s OK, he’s already thanked me.’

  ‘He gave it to her when she worked for Mercury Records, in London,’ said Josh. ‘She got to hang out with him for a bit. How awesome is that?’

  ‘Fantastic,’ I said.

  ‘I knew I’d give it to him one day, you see,’ Lydia explained. ‘I was just waiting for the time to be right.’

  I nodded. Avoiding the temptation to ask why the time was right now.

  ‘So have you moved back to the area?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah. Only last week. I’m renting a little flat in Hebden, nothing special. It’s good to be back, though. This valley’s still the place I consider to be home.’

  I nodded. Did my best to smile. Any thoughts of this being a fleeting reappearance had just disappeared. I realised I didn’t even know where she was from originally. Her accent was definitely a northern one but it had a London drawl mixed in which made it hard to pin down.

  ‘So you actually used to live at our house?’ asked Josh.

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘For about four years. Which is your bedroom now? Still the wonky one at the back?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he replied.