The Marriage Mender

by Linda Green

  ‘I always liked that room,’ she said. ‘Such a beautiful view too.’

  ‘Must have been weird,’ said Josh. ‘Seeing the house again after so long.’

  ‘It was. It felt like I was in some kind of time warp where a place has stayed exactly the same but all the people have moved on and changed.’

  She glanced at me as she finished the sentence. Maybe she hadn’t figured on a new woman being there. Maybe she thought Chris would have been a single parent all these years. Living there alone with Josh. She clearly hadn’t expected to see another child there.

  I wanted to ask her so much. To try to get answers to all the questions which were hammering away inside my head. I didn’t feel I could, though. Not in front of Josh.

  ‘So how did you meet Chris?’ Lydia asked me.

  I stared at her. I hadn’t been expecting anything quite so direct. But then I hadn’t stopped to think that she would have questions too. That she would want to fill in all the gaps of the people she had left behind.

  ‘Through Josh, really. Chris used to bring him to the library where I worked.’

  ‘She did these really cool kids’ events,’ said Josh. ‘Like a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory day where we got to make Violet Beauregarde paper chains and eat Willy Wonka chocolates that she made.’

  I found myself blushing unexpectedly. Warmed by Josh’s memories and my own memories of meeting Chris for the first time.

  ‘So you’re a librarian,’ said Lydia.

  She didn’t say it patronisingly. It was just how the word always came out.

  ‘Not any more,’ I said. ‘I’m a counsellor now.’

  ‘Right. What made you switch to that?’

  I was unnerved by her questions. I’d only just met the woman, and I certainly wasn’t about to go into details about my parents’ marriage.

  ‘Just something I’d always fancied doing,’ I said.

  ‘And is your dad still a photographer?’ she asked Josh, as if sensing that she’d get more information from him.

  ‘Yeah. He’s got a studio in town. Does portraits and that.’

  ‘Oh, so he’s given up the newspapers, then?’

  For the first time that afternoon I felt riled on Chris’s behalf. ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Deadlines and a baby didn’t really mix.’

  She nodded. Maybe she squirmed a bit. Or perhaps it was my imagination.

  ‘So what about you?’ I asked, deciding not to let her ask all the questions. ‘Are you still working in the music industry?’

  ‘Yeah, off and on,’ she said. ‘Only on a freelance basis these days.’

  ‘Who have you met?’ asked Josh.

  Lydia smiled and flicked back her hair. ‘Loads of people you’ve probably never heard of.’

  I looked at Josh’s face. It was the first time she’d said something that hadn’t gone down well.

  ‘I knew who Joe Strummer was,’ he said. ‘I know loads of stuff from the seventies and eighties. Dad’s still got all his LPs.’

  Lydia bit her lip, looked out of the window for a moment. ‘Of course,’ she said, turning back to Josh. ‘I should have realised. Will Keith Richards do you for starters?’

  Josh grinned. He had that childlike expression on his face again. She had redeemed herself and she was now going to regale him with tales of music legends she had once lent a cigarette lighter to.

  He was hers now. She might as well have offered him Turkish delight.

  * * *

  ‘What was your mum like?’ asked Matilda when we got back home later.

  Josh glanced up at Chris before answering. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘She knows a lot about music stuff.’

  ‘Is she going to come here?’ asked Matilda.

  Josh didn’t answer.

  ‘Probably not, love,’ I said. ‘At least, not for now.’

  ‘Why? Don’t you like her?’

  ‘These things take time,’ I said. ‘Josh still doesn’t really know her. Now, why don’t you go and get your reading book out and I’ll be up to listen to you in a few minutes.’

  Matilda groaned, simply because that was Josh’s reaction to homework, not because she actually disliked it, and disappeared upstairs.

  ‘So it went all right, then?’ Chris asked Josh.

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Do you think you’re going to see her again?’

  ‘Yeah. She’s invited me around to her flat to see her record collection.’

  ‘Good. Well, I mean, if that’s what you want.’

  ‘Sounds like she’s got some really good stuff. Not that you haven’t, like.’

  Chris nodded. ‘Sure. I understand.’

  ‘OK. Sorted,’ said Josh, before going up to his room.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said to Chris. I went to give him a hug.

  He pulled away sharply.

  ‘What?’ I asked.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s just I can smell her. I can actually smell her on you.’

  She got to the point where she just said ‘like’ about everything, as if her entire life was played out on Facebook. So if she saw a pair of shoes she wanted in a shop, she’d say ‘like’ and she’d even do a little thumbs-up in the air.

  And half the time at home she didn’t talk to me, she’d only communicate through Facebook. So if I said something funny, she wouldn’t laugh, she’d share it on Facebook with an LOL next to it. Even if I was sitting bloody next to her on the sofa.

  Once, when we were supposed to be going out for a meal, she was late because she couldn’t decide what to wear. She’d shared photos of three outfits on Facebook and was waiting for her ‘friends’ to decide. By the time they’d decided I’d ordered myself a takeaway instead. When she asked why I hadn’t ordered her one, I told her that I didn’t know what her friends on Facebook would think she should have. She nodded, like that was a fair point, and went back on to her laptop.

  5

  Josh bounded downstairs and into the kitchen. He was still in his dressing gown but had the customary cables leading to his ears. Sometimes, I was sure he actually slept with them in. It made me think that one day, in an evolutionary move, babies would actually be born with earphones, ready to be plugged into any device.

  ‘Morning, all,’ he said as he sat down at the table and started buttering a piece of toast.

  I raised my eyebrows at Chris before we both bid him a good morning.

  ‘What you listening to?’ asked Chris.

  ‘The Velvet Underground,’ said Josh.

  ‘I didn’t know you had any of their stuff on your iPod.’

  ‘I didn’t. Mum got it for me.’

  The word ‘Mum’ hung heavily in the air. It wasn’t the first time he’d used it in the past two weeks, but it still had the ability to throw us. Chris particularly.

  ‘I could have downloaded it for you,’ Chris said.

  ‘No, it’s some rare session they did. She got it through someone she knows in the industry.’

  Chris said nothing. I poured him another cup of tea.

  ‘It must be good to have two mums,’ piped up Matilda. ‘It means you get more stuff.’

  Josh glanced at me before taking another mouthful of toast.

  ‘When is she going to come here?’ asked Matilda.

  ‘Like I said, love. It’s still early days.’

  ‘Oh, is it because you don’t like her?’

  ‘No, love. Not at all.’

  ‘So doesn’t Daddy like her?’ Matilda looked up at Chris as she said it.

  Josh looked at him too.

  ‘It’s not that I don’t like her.’

  ‘Do you love her, then? You must have loved her when she was Josh’s mummy that lived here.’

  Nobody said anything.

  Josh stood up, walked over and put the radio on. Sometimes he was very much older than his sixteen years.

  * * *

  We met Debbie and Sophie at the end of the lane. Or rather, Matilda charged into them, and she and Sophie ran off
in front, doing their scrunchy leaf stomp along the verge.

  ‘How’s things?’ asked Debbie. Her nose was already red and her hands were thrust deep into her pockets against the cold.

  ‘Oh, much the same,’ I said. ‘Still treading on eggshells around the breakfast table.’

  ‘Did Josh see her again at the weekend?’

  ‘Yeah, seems to be a regular Saturday afternoon fixture.’

  ‘And how does Chris feel about that?’

  ‘I think the thing that’s really getting to him is how happy Josh is. Not that he was miserable before, or anything, but he’s buzzing with it all. It’s like he’s got a new girlfriend or something. Except it’s not a girlfriend, it’s his mum.’

  ‘And what about you?’ asked Debbie.

  ‘What about me?’

  ‘Well, it can’t be easy. To all intents and purposes you’ve been Josh’s mother for the past nine years.’

  ‘Yeah, but she’s not like a mother to him. She’s more like a really cool older sister. I think that’s how Josh sees her, anyway.’

  ‘So basically she gets to do all the fun things with him and you get to wash his socks and cook him tea.’

  ‘Yeah, something like that,’ I said.

  ‘See. I told you to get shot of her.’

  ‘She’s Josh’s mother, Deb. It’s his choice. It’s not up to me.’

  ‘And Chris agrees with that, does he?’

  ‘Chris is doing his best. It’s difficult for him.’

  ‘Why did she leave in the first place?’

  ‘I don’t know. Chris has never gone into it. And I don’t think now is a good time to ask.’

  ‘It’s the perfect time to ask. She’s back on the scene, and it’s only fair that you know what you’re dealing with.’

  I shrugged.

  She was right, of course. I just didn’t want to admit it. Not even to myself.

  * * *

  The first thing which struck me about Catherine and Nathan wasn’t how beautiful they were (although they were undoubtedly beautiful) but what a very impressive front they were putting on. Usually, by the time people get to see me, they have given up pretending that everything is OK or, if they haven’t, the facade cracks within a few seconds of entering my room.

  Nathan strolled in, shook me firmly by the hand and said it was good to meet me, as if I were a business associate. Catherine stretched out a long and elegant hand to shake mine. She smiled at me, a genuine smile which exuded warmth. They sat down. Both of them were dressed immaculately, he in a well-cut suit and she in a long-sleeved purple shift dress with a silk scarf and tall grey boots.

  Nathan poured two glasses of water and handed one to Catherine. They both looked at me, bright and attentive, as if they had wandered in here by accident, thinking I was the small business adviser next door.

  ‘Thank you both for coming,’ I said. ‘I do understand what a difficult process this can be. If you need to take a break at any time, just ask.’

  They both nodded. Nathan crossed his legs. Catherine took a sip of water. I noticed her hand was shaking. Our eyes met for a second and she put the glass back down.

  ‘Right, well, at the first session I usually go through the notes from your initial assessment. If there’s anything which you feel isn’t accurate, or there’s anything missing which you believe is important, please let me know.’

  They nodded again. Nathan glanced at his watch.

  ‘So you’ve been together twelve years, since meeting at university in Manchester. You’ve no children and you both work full-time. Nathan, it says you run your own web design company.’

  ‘That’s right, if you ever need a website setting up pronto –’ He took a business card from his pocket and put it on the table.

  I thought I saw Catherine cringe, but I couldn’t be sure.

  ‘And Catherine, you co-own an art gallery in Hebden Bridge and work as a part-time arts promotions officer.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, before looking down at her hands.

  I noticed for the first time that the nail varnish was chipped.

  ‘And as far as the problems you’ve been experiencing go, you both say there are issues regarding whether to start a family or not, which have led to lots of arguments.’ I looked up.

  Catherine was still staring at her hands. The smile had disappeared from her face. Nathan, however, remained decidedly upbeat.

  ‘That about sums it up,’ he said.

  I looked at Catherine. ‘So how do you feel about starting a family?’

  She looked down as she spoke. ‘I don’t want children, but I don’t want that to be an issue between us. I don’t see why it needs to be.’

  ‘The thing is,’ said Nathan, ‘people don’t always know what they want, do they? Until it’s too late, that is. And I don’t want Catherine to regret this in later life. I think she’d make a great mum. I thought coming here and talking about it might make her see that.’

  I scribbled some notes.

  When I glanced up, Catherine was gazing out of the window behind me, her eyes moist with tears.

  * * *

  I don’t think Josh meant me to see him. True, he didn’t usually leave his bedroom door open. But Matilda had gone to bed, so the main reason to shut it had disappeared.

  I’d only nipped upstairs to get a cardigan. For some reason I happened to glance in as I walked past his doorway. Josh was sitting on the end of his bed, his cheeks wet with tears, gazing down at what appeared to be a shoebox on his lap.

  ‘Hey,’ I said, stepping inside the room, ‘what’s the matter?’

  ‘It’s OK,’ he said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand and managing a watery smile. ‘Nothing’s happened, I just got out the box and I think it all kind of caught up with me.’

  I sat down on the bed next to him and put my arm around his shoulders. The box on his lap was open. On the top of a small pile of things inside was a black and white photograph of a young, dark-haired woman clutching a newborn baby to her chest. Her eyeliner was smudged, her hair lank with sweat, but the look on her face was one of immense pride.

  ‘She seems so happy,’ said Josh.

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘I’m sure she was.’

  ‘There are others,’ he went on. ‘Quite a few of them.’

  He flicked through the wallet of photos underneath. Pictures of him and Lydia snuggled together on a rug on the floor, wrapped up together in a bath towel, both sporting Santa hats on what would have been his first Christmas. Lydia’s expression was one of unwavering devotion. She smiled less as Josh got older, though. In the ones where he was sitting up, she was hardly smiling at all.

  ‘I’ve never seen these before,’ I said.

  ‘Dad gave me the box when I was a kid, a year or so after I started school, I think. We were doing something on families and they asked us to bring in photos of us as babies. I remember Dad saying he wanted me to know what my mum looked like and that she’d really loved me but she’d had to go away.’

  I nodded and squeezed his shoulder.

  ‘When I got a bit older, and started to get angry about it all, I put the box away inside another one in the back of the wardrobe. I guess that’s why you’ve never seen it. I only just remembered it and got it out. I can’t believe how similar she looks. She’s hardly changed at all, has she?’

  I shook my head.

  He opened another wallet underneath. There was a photo of baby Josh sitting on Barbara’s knee with Lydia sitting next to them. Barbara was beaming down at him. Lydia holding one outstretched hand.

  ‘It’s weird, isn’t it?’ said Josh. ‘I hadn’t even thought about her knowing Grandma. Stupid, really, cos the only people she didn’t know are you and Tilda. And look, this one was taken in the garden, see how small the apple tree is.’

  I nodded and swallowed hard. Lydia in our house, in our garden, with our family. Long before I knew any of them. Her imprint was here. I had always felt it but had tried so hard to ignore it. She
had cast a shadow over this house when she’d left. But for Josh, at least, her reappearance had been like someone throwing open the shutters to let the light in.

  I squeezed his shoulder again. ‘It means a lot to you, doesn’t it? To have her back, I mean.’

  Josh nodded. ‘It was like, for years, I hated her but I realise now I didn’t really hate her, I just hated that she wasn’t around. Hated that I didn’t have a mum when other kids did.’ He looked up sharply. ‘Sorry,’ he said.

  ‘No. I understand. I’m not your mum. I’ve never pretended to be. I just love you like a son, that’s all.’

  He smiled across at me. ‘Some kids at school think you are my mum,’ he said. ‘The kids who I only met at high school, who didn’t know me before you were around. I’ve never bothered to tell them.’

  ‘You don’t mind them thinking your mum is some uncool woman with a nice line in cardigans and Ugg boots, then?’

  Josh dug me in the ribs with his elbow. ‘You’re not that bad.’

  ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

  ‘It’s weird, really. I mean, she’s my mum and yet she doesn’t know me at all, not really, not all the little things about me. And you’re not my mum but you know me miles better than her. I couldn’t talk to her like I can to you.’

  ‘No, but you can talk to her about other things – music, and stuff I know nothing about.’

  ‘Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.’

  A floorboard creaked on the landing.

  I looked up to see Chris standing there. He looked at me, at Josh and at the box.

  Then he turned and walked away without saying anything.

  I took her to see Fatal Attraction and she leant over in the cinema, put her hand on my crotch and whispered into my ear, ‘I boil bunnies, you know.’

  End of.

  6

  ‘But why can’t we all go together?’ asked Matilda at breakfast.

  I opened my mouth to say something but Chris shook his head slightly at me, indicating that he was going to take the question.

  ‘We didn’t all go together last year, or the year before that. Josh went with Tom, if you remember.’

  ‘Yes, but that’s different,’ said Matilda. ‘That was because you said he was old enough to go with his friends. He isn’t going with his friends this time, he’s going with his mum, and that’s family so we should all go together.’