I Know You

by Annabel Kantaria

  Yeah, yeah, he’ll make a little effort – he’ll be there when you buy the pram and the cot and all that crap, but his heart’s not in it. You can tell a lot about a man by his behaviour – not that you ever want to see it. He hardly ever wants to be with you. Have you noticed that? I guess not. Your head’s too far into those baby magazines, but if you look you’ll see he’s given you so many red flags in the last six months even I can see him waving them like he’s drowning. But you – you refuse to see them.

  I get that people miss things all the time. Buses. Trains. Even planes. But missing the birth of your first child? Oh, stop making excuses. Yeah, first babies are usually late. Yeah, first labours are notoriously long – but still that’s no excuse. If he really wanted to be there, he’d be there.

  So, yeah, in my ‘humble’ opinion, as they say online, the baby thing? He’s just not that into it.

  You’ll have to trust me on that.

  Thirty

  It doesn’t take me long to lay into Jake after my birthday dinner. I don’t mean to shout at him. I really intend to leave the conversation until we’re both fresh in the morning, but the front door is barely closed behind us – Jake’s bending down to shoot that tricky bolt – when the words fly out of my mouth.

  ‘What in god’s name was that all about?’ My voice shakes with anger.

  ‘What?’ Jake says, straightening up and looking at me. He looks genuinely surprised, and that makes me even angrier.

  ‘“What?” What were you playing at tonight?’ I ask, my voice dangerously calm.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  I raise my eyebrows at him and watch as understanding creeps across his face.

  ‘Sarah?’ he asks. ‘Oh god.’ He shrugs. ‘She was drunk. It was nothing. You know that.’

  ‘I don’t know anything,’ I say. ‘As far as I know, you kissed her and now she’s all over you. So, tell me.’

  I march down the living room to the kitchen and slam the kettle under the tap, whack it back on the counter and practically punch the button on. Then I turn to face where Jake’s standing in the living room.

  ‘Well? I’m waiting?’

  Jake shakes his head. ‘I… I’m sorry.’ He gives a quizzical little shrug, which incenses me further.

  ‘Sorry for what exactly? Sorry you flirted with her? Sorry you ignored the entire table all night? Sorry you humiliated me on my birthday? Which one are you sorry for exactly?’

  ‘Oh Tay. Is that how you saw it?’

  ‘That’s not how I saw it!’ I shout. ‘That’s how the whole frickin’ dinner party saw it. That’s how it was. You haven’t changed at all. Once a cheat, always a cheat, isn’t that what they say?’ I burst into tears, and wipe angrily at them.

  Jake pales. Since we agreed to move on, his affair has always been the elephant in the room: there, but never mentioned. This is a first. He takes a step towards me.

  ‘No, no, no. Tay, I told you you could trust me and I meant it. There’s nothing there – you have to trust me. I didn’t kiss her. I told you that. She’s a flirt but it doesn’t mean anything. Oh shit, shit, shit.’

  ‘Ask everyone else. They think you were practically jumping her in the kitchen. What was it? You had one kiss and wanted another? Or am I way behind here?’

  Jake paces up and down, rubbing his neck. ‘Oh god. Tay, don’t be daft. This is all in your head. No one else thought anything. It’s just your hormones talking. Let’s get you a glass of water and sit you down. Come on.’ He holds out a hand to me.

  I leap back. ‘Don’t you touch me! Get away from me. You stink of her. What were you doing in the kitchen with her? What? Actually, don’t answer that, I don’t want to know. Are you having an affair with her? Just tell me!’

  ‘There’s no affair,’ Jake says but I shove past him and head for the front door, where I squat down and start shoving the bolt Jake’s just fastened, only it’s so stiff that, balanced on my haunches, I struggle. I focus all my anger on the bolt and finally it rams back into the socket.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Jake’s behind me.

  ‘What does it look like?’ I stand up, steadying myself from the head-rush for a second, then unlock the door. ‘I can’t stand to be in the same house as you.’

  Jake grabs my arm and holds me by the bicep. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! Where are you going at this time of night?’

  ‘Anywhere!’ I try to shake Jake off my arm. ‘Get off me.’

  ‘Oh, over to Simon’s, is it?’ Jake snarls. His face is so close I can smell the coffee still on his breath. ‘Yeah, that’s right. I saw him looking at you all night. You think I didn’t notice? I should be asking you what’s going on with him.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous! I’m the faithful one, remember? The one who didn’t break the marriage vows!’ We glare at each other. I wrench him off my arm, lurch for the front door and pull it open. ‘Leave me alone! Let me go!’

  I stumble out onto the front path, the cold shocking me, but I’m too angry to go back; too angry to lose face. I storm down the path, wondering as I do where I’ll go. Anna’s not home, and I won’t go to Sarah’s. Caroline’s? I don’t even have my purse.

  ‘Taylor!’ Jake covers the path in three strides, then yanks me away from the front gate and kicks it shut with his foot. I try to push him off but I can’t. We stand there locked in a struggle.

  ‘Look at yourself,’ I sneer. ‘Fighting a pregnant woman.’

  Jake drops his hands. ‘I’m not fighting you. I’m trying to protect you. You can’t go out there on your own at this time.’ His voice sounds broken. I don’t say anything. My heart’s still pounding but I know I’m beaten.

  ‘Come on. Let’s go inside,’ Jake says and, reluctantly, I let him lead me back into the house by the elbow, then flop down onto the stairs, my head in my hands.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Jake says. ‘I don’t know what happened. She was just so…’ he shrugs.

  ‘All over you?’ I say.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Everyone noticed. Everyone. I’ve never been so humiliated in all my life. Or maybe once.’

  Jake closes his eyes.

  ‘I introduce you to my friends and you make a fool of me. How do you think that feels? And me having your baby in a matter of weeks. Weeks, Jake. In weeks, we’ll be parents. Is this how parents behave? Is this what our son deserves to be born into?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ says Jake again, and I realize that all my anger’s gone. There’s no fight left in me. I’m empty, and I’m extremely tired.

  ‘You’re sleeping down here tonight,’ I say. ‘I don’t want you in my bed.’ I stand up. ‘I’ll throw down your things.’

  And that’s how my birthday ends.

  Thirty-one

  Looking back, it’s interesting to see how my friends reacted to the debacle that was my birthday. Caroline’s the first to get in touch the next day, not long after Jake’s left for a night in Tewkesbury. She sends me a WhatsApp.

  ‘Well done for getting through it. See you at book club. If you’re still coming…’

  Sarah also sends a message. ‘Thanks so much for the flowers. They’re beautiful. Ouch, my head!’

  Anna calls me towards midday. I presume after she’s packed Rob off on his flight. ‘How did it go?’ she asks.

  ‘It was…’ I begin, but then I choke up. I struggle to speak.

  ‘What…?’ she prompts, but I can’t make a sound.

  ‘Tay? What happened? Are you crying?’

  ‘No,’ I gulp. ‘I’m fine. It’s just…’ I reach for a tissue and blow my nose, badly, with one hand.

  ‘What? What happened?’ Anna asks.

  ‘Oh god. Nothing. Just – can we talk about something else?’

  ‘Was it Sarah?’ she asks. ‘Oh my god, it was! What did she do?’

  ‘We had a fight. I don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘Who? You and Sarah?’ Anna’s voice is incredulous.

  ‘No. Me and Jake.’

&
nbsp; ‘Hey, come on! I’m sure it’s not that bad,’ Anna says. ‘Let me guess: Sarah was out of order and what? Did he go along with it?’

  I make a sound that I hope she’ll take as agreement.

  Anna’s silent for a minute, perhaps weighing up how much further to push me.

  ‘Well, look,’ she says eventually. ‘I’m taking you shopping tomorrow, okay? No excuses. I know you don’t have anything on, and retail therapy is exactly what you need. So don’t try and argue your way out of this one.’

  We chat a little more then hang up. I may have convinced Anna that I’m fine, but the truth is I haven’t convinced myself. I’m thrown not just by Jake’s actions, but by the violence of my own reaction; by the row itself. After we got through his infidelity, we agreed – on the advice of a marriage guidance counsellor – that we’d move on, that I wouldn’t throw it back at him, and that’s precisely what I just did. I also can’t get the look on his face as he shouted at me out of my head; the sight of his hand in Sarah’s as she traced his palm with her nail. How did it start with the other woman, I wonder? Was it like that?

  After I finish talking to Anna, I sit on the sofa for a good few minutes, mulling everything over. What’s happening to my marriage? And why suddenly now, when it should be rock solid – when it should be the strongest it will ever be? How are Jake and I going to get through having a baby together? Before I know it, a tear’s rolling down my cheek, then another, and another, and I give in to them. I get up and get the tissue box then I sit there, sobbing and blowing my nose into tissue after tissue, until all of the stress, the jealousy, the frustration, the anger and the guilt have come out. And just as my sobs are subsiding and the relentless silence of the house is starting to embarrass me for my outburst, as if even the walls are shocked by what loss of control they just witnessed, the doorbell rings. I pad over with my hands on my back and open it a crack. Simon’s there, jiggling up and down on the spot, holding a flimsy plastic carrier bag.

  ‘Hey,’ he says. ‘I’ve only got an hour but I wanted to come by and see if you’re okay.’

  ‘I’m okay.’ My voice is thick with snot, my face is blotchy and my eyes are red.

  ‘You’re not fine at all,’ Simon says. He edges closer. ‘Can I come in? I’ve actually got something to show you.’ He holds up the plastic bag.

  I look away, unable to make the decision. He reaches for my hand, then pulls away without touching me.

  ‘Taylor. I don’t know what you’re upset about, and I hope it isn’t about what happened that night after the Mexican because I told you it won’t happen again. You can trust me. I promise. But I don’t want to leave you like this. If I can’t come in, will you come out with me? For a coffee? You shouldn’t be on your own. Think of the baby – stress hormones can’t be good for him.’

  I open the door wider. ‘Okay. Just for a coffee, all right?’

  ‘Thank you.’ Simon follows me to the kitchen.

  ‘So, there’s something I need to show you,’ Simon says. ‘Do you remember you mentioned Anna was getting strange phone calls from wrong numbers? Well, I did a bit of digging and look at this.’ He holds up the plastic bag.

  ‘What is it?’

  Simon pulls out a business card and hands it to me. On it, there’s a picture of a woman in a basque and suspenders, her eyes blocked out by a thin black strip. ‘Home massage. Personal services,’ says the card.

  ‘That’s Anna’s phone number,’ I say.

  Simon nods. ‘I hope you don’t mind. I took the liberty of checking and then looked around. It wasn’t difficult. I found a few tucked into a bus shelter. So I looked at other bus shelters nearby and bingo! I took as many as I could.’ He holds out the bag.

  ‘Well, that explains it. But why?’

  ‘It might just be a typo. Very annoying but nothing more. I guess we just wait for them to notice they’re not getting any calls and double-check the number. Or I suppose you could take them to the police…’ His voice trails off. ‘Will you give them to Anna? You’ll probably see her before I do.’ Then he looks at me. ‘Are you okay?’

  I put the bag on the dining table. ‘Poor Anna. She’s so paranoid someone’s watching her.’

  ‘Really? But I’m more concerned about what’s been bothering you,’ Simon says. ‘If you don’t mind me saying, you looked upset when I arrived.’

  ‘Oh, you know. This and that. Husband flirting with friend in front of everyone being the most obvious.’ I give a little laugh.

  Simon looks down. ‘I didn’t like to say. I hoped you hadn’t noticed.’

  ‘It wasn’t just me, was it? I wasn’t being oversensitive?’

  ‘Well, you know him best. Do you think he meant anything by it?’

  I stare at the kettle, then sigh.

  ‘You wouldn’t be human if it didn’t hurt,’ Simon says. ‘You’re vulnerable right now, and you have every right to feel how you do. But try to look at the big picture. Do you suspect him of cheating?’

  I purse my lips. ‘He’s got form.’ The words are out before I realize what I’ve done: I’ve let the genie out of the bottle. I’d planned never to tell anyone in London about what Jake did – not to let it follow us across the Atlantic and sully our new life – but here it is, out there in the air and in Simon’s ears.

  ‘What?’ Simon looks genuinely shocked.

  I shake my head. ‘It was in the States. It’s over.’

  Simon’s searching my face, trying, I imagine, to read my mood; see if it’s worth asking more.

  ‘Okay,’ he says slowly. ‘Have there been any signs that he’s cheating?’

  I laugh bitterly. ‘He’s never here, remember? Always on the road. For all I know he could have another house up north and a whole extra family and I would be the last to know.’

  ‘But at least it wouldn’t be with Sarah. Think positive!’

  There’s a sparkle in his eyes.

  ‘True.’ I pour the coffees, add the milk, hand him a cup. We both move to the living room. I take a dining chair and he sits on the sofa.

  ‘Seriously, he’d be mad to cheat on you,’ Simon says. I look at him and he holds my eyes for a second before I look away. The rest of it is left unsaid: I would never cheat on you. And, somehow, I believe it.

  ‘How’s your dad?’ I ask.

  ‘Okay. We’ve a new carer who comes a few hours a day. They get on well. It means I can get out a bit more.’

  ‘That’s great.’

  ‘Yeah. It is.’

  We sit in silence for a minute, then Simon says, ‘I saw the photos of your nursery. I really like what you’ve done. It looks amazing. I’d love to see it in the flesh, so to speak.’

  I remember that he set one up for the child he thought was his, then had it snatched away.

  ‘Sure.’

  At the bottom of the stairs, I tell him to go first. ‘Turn left at the top.’

  By the time I get up there, he’s gently pushing open the door. ‘Wow,’ he breathes. ‘It’s perfect.’

  It’s a tiny room but I’ve done the walls in pale taupe with wide-striped curtains in navy and white. The cot and changing table are white, and I’ve also managed to squeeze in a navy-blue armchair. On the walls, I’ve hung bunting in red, white and blue. It’s plain, but clean and crisp. We go in, and Simon turns to me.

  ‘I love it.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Suddenly I want to show him everything. I go to the wardrobe and take out a tiny newborn onesie from the pile.

  ‘Look! See how tiny they are?’

  Simon looks between me and the onesie. ‘That looks like it might fit already. Think you might have a rugby player in there.’

  ‘Oh god, I hope not!’

  I put the onesie back in the cupboard and we troop back downstairs. Simon stands awkwardly in the hallway and looks at his watch. I loiter on the bottom stair, not least because there’s nowhere else for me to go with him blocking the door.

  ‘Well, I hate to say it, but I ne
ed to get going. How are you feeling now?’

  ‘Better. Thank you.’

  He steps closer and puts his hand on my arm. With me on the step, we’re the same height.

  ‘Good,’ he says. ‘Look, if you’re feeling bad and Jake’s not around, just call me. Don’t sit here crying. It’s not good for either of you. Will you do that?’

  ‘Okay.’

  He looks at my belly. ‘And you be good for Mummy, too, okay? Take care, Taylor.’ He opens the door and is gone.

  Thirty-two

  Anna holds good on the plan to take me out shopping. She arrives at my house with a baby-shopping checklist she’s found online.

  ‘It’s not just about the big things,’ she says. ‘Do you have a mild washing detergent for the baby clothes? Muslin squares? Nappy bags? Night-time sanitary pads?’ I nod at most of these. ‘What about for you, though?’ she asks. ‘Don’t forget that “happy mummy equals happy baby”.’ She says it in a sing-song voice. ‘We need to make time for ourselves as well as the babies. We mustn’t lose ourselves in being someone’s mummy, okay? It’s important. Do you have a good eye cream? A concealer? Dry shampoo? We’re going to need them.’

  ‘You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?’

  ‘Oh yes. Any excuse to go to Boots.’ She grins and I roll my eyes.

  ‘All right. But, hang on – before we go, I’ve got something to show you.’

  I take a card out of the bag Simon brought and hand it to her with a flourish. I’m so proud we’ve got to the bottom of it and I wish I could take the credit myself.

  ‘Here’s the answer to your mystery calls! Ta-da!’

  Anna examines the card with a frown. ‘That’s my number. Where did you get this?’

  ‘I didn’t. Simon did. He found them tucked into bus shelters around town. Look…’ I pick up the bag. ‘He got as many as he could.’

  I’m expecting her to be happy about this but she’s looking more worried than she did before.

  ‘Simon found them?’

  ‘Yes!’

  She closes her eyes and breathes out slowly and loudly through her mouth. ‘This doesn’t solve anything. It just makes me think he printed them himself.’