The Marriage Mender

by Linda Green

  ‘Well, you scrubbed up pretty well.’

  I gave a start as I heard Chris’s voice behind me. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’ I smiled.

  ‘I only came in to change my shirt. I suppose you want me to make more of an effort now.’

  ‘Well, maybe just this once. It’s not often we get the chance, is it?’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Somewhere nice.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be first date territory, would it?’ he asked.

  ‘Might be,’ I said, trying to hide my disappointment that he’d guessed.

  ‘Decent shirt and trousers, then,’ he said. ‘But I draw the line at a tie.’ He squeezed past me to get to the wardrobe. ‘Wow, you smell good too.’ He stooped to kiss me on the neck.

  And I was momentarily transported back to a time when this was happening for the first time. And I was breathing him in, unable to believe that someone like him was doing this with someone like me.

  ‘If I kiss you properly, I’m going to get lipstick all over me, aren’t I?’ asked Chris.

  I nodded.

  ‘Oh well, I guess it’ll just have to wait for later.’

  I heard voices downstairs through the open doorway. A male voice particularly. One which shouldn’t have been there.

  ‘That’s Josh,’ I said.

  We both hurried downstairs. He was standing in the hall looking forlorn. Barbara was next to him, using her best soothing tones.

  ‘Hey, what’s happened?’ I asked.

  ‘Mum didn’t show,’ he said, his voice an uncertain mixture of anger and defensiveness.

  ‘Have you tried ringing her?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah. Just goes to her voicemail. I’ve left a message and I’ve texted her but she hasn’t got back.’

  ‘That’s bang out of order,’ said Chris from behind me. ‘I’m not having her mess you around like this.’

  I realised Matilda was standing in the doorway, and whispered to Barbara to take her back into the lounge and put a DVD on. Chris waited until she’d shut the door behind her.

  ‘Maybe something came up,’ said Josh.

  ‘Yeah. Something’s come up all right.’

  ‘Chris,’ I said.

  ‘Well, it’s pretty damn obvious.’

  ‘Why don’t you call Tom?’ I said to Josh. ‘See if he’s still around.’

  ‘I already have. He’s gone round to his cousin’s.’

  ‘Well, we can stay in, if you like,’ I offered.

  ‘No, there’s no need. You go.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, rubbing his shoulder.

  Though I suspected the evening had been ruined already.

  * * *

  Chris didn’t speak until we were in the car. Until I’d pulled out of the lane and was heading down the hill.

  ‘You know what’s happened, don’t you?’ he said. ‘She was blown out by that guy she’s seeing. Offered the ticket to Josh and told her boyfriend she was going with someone else to try to get back at him. Then when he’s come running back, she’s ditched Josh. She’s just using him.’

  ‘If I didn’t know you better –’ I began.

  ‘What?’ he broke in.

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Yes, it does. You think I’m jealous, don’t you?’

  ‘You seem very het up about it, that’s all.’

  ‘Yeah. Because she’s messing Josh around.’

  ‘And that’s all it is?’

  ‘Jesus, what do you take me for?’

  ‘Well, what am I supposed to think? Ever since she came back you’ve been on edge, and you refuse to talk about her.’

  ‘Because there’s nothing to say.’

  ‘Of course there is. You lived with her for nearly five years, Chris. You had a child with her. You obviously –’ I stopped short of saying the words.

  He was quiet for a minute or two, until we pulled up at the traffic lights at the junction with the main road.

  ‘Look, it doesn’t matter what I felt for her back then. The day she walked out on us everything changed for ever.’

  I heard the catch in his voice. Noticed his clenched hands in his lap. I knew that I had to tread very carefully.

  ‘She looked happy,’ I said. ‘In the photos with Josh, when he’d just been born.’

  ‘Yeah. She was.’

  ‘Was he a planned baby?’ I asked.

  ‘No. Not really. He was very much loved, though. By both of us.’

  ‘So what happened?’ I asked.

  ‘She scared me,’ he said. ‘That’s what happened. And that’s all you need to know.’

  I drove on in silence. To a meal I no longer had an appetite for.

  * * *

  Barbara was sitting in the lounge reading when we got home. Chris went upstairs to check on Matilda. He always did it when we’d been out. He even put his head round Josh’s door as well. Old habits die hard.

  ‘How was your meal?’ asked Barbara.

  ‘Fine, thanks,’ I said. ‘The food was good, anyway.’

  Barbara nodded. She understood what I meant. ‘Don’t let her spoil things,’ she said. ‘She’s not worth it.’

  ‘Were they happy together?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘She abused his trust,’ said Barbara. ‘And when she got found out, she knew exactly how to hurt him.’

  He’d always been into the Carpenters. I mean, I didn’t mind them, I was never keen on that ‘Jambalaya’ one but the rest of their stuff was perfectly OK to listen to. If anyone ever asked him who his favourite singer was, he’d say, ‘Karen Carpenter – voice like velvet,’ and give a little sigh afterwards. There was always a Carpenters CD on in the car, I don’t think he had anything else in there, and I never even complained about that.

  And then, one day, I came home early from the shops, when he wasn’t expecting me, like. He obviously didn’t hear me because he had ‘Close to You’ on at full volume, and I walked into the front room and there he was, stark naked in front of the gas fire apart from his socks, pleasuring himself, like, while he looked at a picture of her, of Karen Carpenter.

  I told him that night. I said he had to choose, me or Karen. And he, well, he chose her.

  8

  It was snowing the next morning. And even though we’d had a carpet of snow for much of the previous winter, the arrival of the first of this season’s offering was still enough to elicit squeals of delight from Matilda when I pulled back her bedroom curtains.

  ‘Can I go out and play in it?’ she asked.

  ‘After breakfast, yes.’

  ‘Will Josh come with me?’

  ‘Probably not, he’s still in bed. So keep the noise down, please, missy.’

  ‘Why didn’t his mum tell him she wasn’t coming?’

  ‘We don’t know, love.’

  ‘I don’t think she’s a very nice mummy, is she?’

  ‘We can’t say that, love. There could be a good reason.’

  ‘Can I build a snowman?’

  ‘I don’t think there’s enough for that yet.’

  ‘But if there is after breakfast, can I?’

  ‘Of course you can.’ I smiled.

  I went back downstairs while she got dressed. Chris was gathering his camera gear. He’d hardly said a word to me since we’d come home the previous night. I was annoyed with myself for letting Lydia get the better of me. I wanted to make amends.

  ‘You off out?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah. You don’t mind, do you? Only the light’s perfect right now. I won’t be long.’

  ‘Of course not,’ I said. ‘As long as you take a turn with the sledging this afternoon.’

  ‘Is she up for it?’

  ‘Has she ever not been up for it?’

  ‘Fair point. I’ll see you later.’

  I nodded. He gave me a peck on the cheek before he left. I
watched him walk across the field behind our house and start to climb the hill beyond. He thought nothing of lugging all the camera gear with him. He used to go up on the tops taking photos with Josh in a backpack, when he was little. He’d told me about it. I imagined watching them there sometimes. A tiny Josh tight against his back. Safe with his father. And Chris happy because he had everything he needed. Everything he loved. And no one could take that away from him.

  ‘Where’s Daddy?’ asked Matilda as soon as she came down.

  ‘He’s working. He’s gone up on the tops to take some photos.’

  ‘Ohhh. I wanted to go too.’

  ‘You’d be bored, love. He wouldn’t have time to play. He’s going to get the sledge out for you when he comes back.’

  ‘Yay!’ Matilda grinned and sat down for her breakfast.

  She ate her cereal in record time, ran to put her wellies and coat on and scrabbled at the back door like a mad puppy desperate to be let out.

  ‘It’s OK,’ I said, putting her hat on and digging out her scarf. ‘It’s not going to melt. It’s freezing out there.’

  ‘Are you coming too?’ she asked.

  ‘Later,’ I said. ‘I’m going to cook some breakfast for Daddy and Josh first.’

  She played happily in the snow for about fifteen minutes. I glanced out to check on her every now and again. She was utterly engrossed in creating some kind of snow monster by the look of it. She opened the back door as I was turning the sausages over.

  ‘I’ve run out of snow,’ she said. ‘Can I go out the front to get some more in my bucket?’

  ‘OK, but go carefully. It’ll be slippery on the paving stones.’

  She nodded and disappeared round the side of the house. We only had a small front garden but the snow tended to drift against the house in a certain wind.

  There were still no sounds from upstairs. I wasn’t going to wake Josh, although I was still tempted to have a chat with him before Chris came back, try to smooth things over in advance.

  I heard a shout from outside. I wasn’t sure at first, but then I heard it again.

  It was Matilda calling ‘Mummy!’

  I knew from the tone of her voice and the volume of the shout that something was wrong. I took the pan off the hotplate and ran straight out the front, still in my slippers and dressing gown.

  Lydia was standing in the garden, entirely inappropriately dressed for the weather in a short black skirt, crop top and bare legs. She had a cigarette in one hand and a morning-after-the-night-before look about her.

  Matilda ran full pelt at me, throwing her arms around my waist and burying her face in my tummy.

  ‘Are you OK, love?’ I asked.

  ‘She made me jump. And she shouted at me.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to scare her,’ Lydia said, slurring slightly as she spoke.

  ‘Why did you shout at her?’

  ‘I asked her if Josh was in and she didn’t fucking reply.’

  ‘Go inside, love,’ I said to Matilda. ‘Pop a DVD on. I’ll be with you in a minute.’

  Matilda scowled at Lydia and ran inside.

  ‘Will you watch your language in front of her, please.’

  ‘I need to see Josh.’

  ‘You were supposed to see him last night.’

  She walked a few steps closer to me. I could smell the alcohol on her breath from ten paces.

  ‘I know. I came to say I’m sorry. He’s turned his phone off.’

  ‘Well, it’ll have to wait. You’re drunk. Josh is still asleep. I’ll tell him you came. And if he wants to call you, he will.’

  ‘He’s my son, you know, not yours,’ she said, her face close enough to mine that I could smell the cigarette smoke in her hair.

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘But he lives in my house.’

  ‘It’s not yours,’ she said. ‘It’s Chris’s. And I lived in it long before you.’

  She took a puff on her cigarette and blew the smoke out in my face, before turning on her heels and tottering off, making stiletto prints in the snow as she left.

  ‘Please don’t come here again without asking first,’ I called after her.

  I stood shaking in the garden for a second before hurrying back indoors. Josh was on the landing.

  ‘That was Mum, wasn’t it?’he asked.

  I nodded.

  ‘What was all the shouting about?’

  ‘She was drunk. She scared Matilda.’

  ‘Is Tilda OK?’

  ‘Yeah, she’s fine. I’m going to check on her now.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘You don’t have to apologise for her, Josh.’

  ‘She’s my mum, isn’t she?’

  ‘She’s not your responsibility, though. She’s old enough to know better.’

  ‘Dad’s going to go ape, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘he probably will.’

  Josh sighed and disappeared back to his room. I went into the lounge. Matilda was sitting on the sofa. She still had her coat on. I sat down next to her and put my arms around her. Kissed her softly on the forehead.

  ‘Are you OK, sweetheart?’ I asked.

  She nodded, not taking her eyes off the television where Scooby-Doo was on. ‘I don’t like her. She shouldn’t have come here.’

  ‘No, love, she shouldn’t. And I’ve told her not to come back without asking first.’

  ‘Why wasn’t she dressed properly?’

  ‘I don’t think she was really thinking straight.’

  ‘And she was smoking and she said a bad word.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry.’

  She looked up at me, her big brown eyes unusually serious. ‘I want it to go back to how it was before.’

  ‘I know, love. But it can’t do. Not now.’

  She started to cry.

  I hugged her in to me, stroking her hair. ‘It’ll be OK, love,’ I said. ‘Everything will be OK.’

  I heard Chris’s key in the door. Before I could stop her, Matilda pulled away and ran out to him.

  ‘Josh’s mum was in the garden and she made me jump and she said a bad word and Mummy got cross with her and made her go away.’

  I heard the words tumble out of her mouth and got to the hallway in time to see Chris’s eyes darken, his jaw tense.

  ‘Is this true?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. Matilda’s fine. Lydia didn’t touch her. She just scared her.’

  ‘Did she see Josh?’

  ‘No, he was still in bed. He heard some of it and he knows what happened.’

  ‘Right. Well, he’ll understand that it stops there, then.’

  I gestured down at Matilda. I wasn’t going to have this conversation in front of her.

  ‘Can you manage a second breakfast, love?’ I asked.

  She nodded.

  ‘Take your coat off and pop and wash your hands, then. I think we all need warming up.’

  ‘Shall I get Josh?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah, you can do. But if he says he’s not hungry, that’s OK.’

  I watched her go up the stairs. Chris waited until she was out of earshot.

  ‘What the hell was she doing here?’

  ‘She said she’d come to apologise to Josh.’

  ‘Oh yeah, turning up drunk and scaring his little sister, that’s a great way of apologising.’

  ‘Just don’t say anything to Josh if he does come down for breakfast. He looked pretty cut up about it. You know how he hates anyone upsetting his sister.’

  Chris sighed. Shook his head. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah, bit shaken, that’s all.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t you start apologising as well.’

  ‘No. I’ve been thinking. She’s my ex. You shouldn’t have to put up with any of this.’

  ‘It’s not that easy, though, is it? We can’t just make her go away.’

  Matilda came back downstairs with Josh trailing behind her. We sat down together in the kitchen, Josh seemingly un
able to look anyone in the eye. I dished up what was left of the cooked breakfasts. We sat in silence. Josh prodded the sausage around on his plate for a bit, then pushed back his chair and stood up.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m not really hungry.’

  * * *

  When I went into Matilda’s room the next morning she was curled tightly in her duvet, her back facing me. I sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out to stroke her head.

  The sheet next to her was damp. Very damp. I raised my hand towards my nose. The smell was unmistakable.

  I shut my eyes and bit my lower lip. I could barely remember the last time she’d wet the bed. Not for years. Maybe once, when she was about five, and she was poorly.

  I stroked her cheek with the back of my hand. It was a moment or two before she came round. She opened her eyes. Within seconds there was a frown on her face.

  ‘I’m all sticky,’ she said.

  ‘I know, love. You’ve had a little accident. It doesn’t matter. We’ll soon get you cleaned up.’

  Her face crumpled. The tears came.

  And I wished to God that Lydia hadn’t come back.

  He texted me and asked if I’d like to come and watch him play badminton.

  I just texted back ‘No, not really’.

  9

  The text messages started that evening. Maybe it had taken her that long to sober up. Maybe Josh hadn’t turned his phone back on until then either, as some sort of mark of respect to the rest of the family or simply because he didn’t know how to handle it.

  At first I thought it was Josh and Tom just texting back and forth but one look at Josh’s face at the dinner table when his phone beeped from upstairs gave it away. I glanced at Chris. If he did realise, he was doing a very good job of keeping his expression neutral.

  I said nothing at the time. Waited until after tea. Until the dishwasher had been loaded and Chris was reading Matilda a bedtime story. I knocked on the door of Josh’s room.

  ‘Yeah,’ he called.

  I went in, taking it as teenage for ‘enter’. The darkness of the decor always looked worse in winter. At least in the summer the sunlight crashed through his sash windows and his blinds could offer little in the way of defence. In winter it was as if the darkness outside somehow reflected back the darkness from within. The one condition we had laid down was that, if we ever put the house up for sale, he’d have to paint the walls magnolia (black not featuring highly on those ‘How to sell your property’ lists).