We left soon afterwards. Ruby looked shattered and I wanted to get her home to bed.
Speak of the devil. She’s calling me from the lounge now. Time to go.
Love as always,
M
Xx
CHAPTER 13
BEFORE
Tuesday, 14 February 2017
Dan stood at the lounge window of his crappy flat and watched the snow overwhelm the communal garden. It was coming down thick and fast: a torrent of fat flakes racing each other to the ground.
Getting into the office tomorrow – deadline day, of course – would be a nightmare, although better from here in the suburbs than it would have been from out at the house. Then, once he got to work, he’d have to squeeze in all those weather-related stories: the sledging snaps; the inevitable school closures; the traffic chaos.
Perfect weather for Valentine’s Day. How romantic for all those lovebirds, he thought, envious of their happiness. There was a time, long ago, when he and Maria used to be like that: a happy young couple out on a date to celebrate Valentine’s. He could even remember the two of them walking home through falling snow one year, early on in their relationship, arm in arm and stuffed with expensive restaurant food.
Back then, they had been utterly content in each other’s company. It made Dan’s head hurt to think how great they used to be together. It gave him hope that they could still fix things, while also frustrating the hell out of him that they’d drifted so far apart. Once upon a time people used to call them the perfect couple. With hindsight, Dan could see why: they’d had that magic combination of being in love as well as best friends. They’d enjoyed a lot of the same books, films, pubs, clubs and restaurants. They’d largely liked and disliked the same people – and realised they didn’t need or want a big social group, since they were both happiest when it was just the two of them. And when their views had differed, such as on the topic of religion, each had respected the other’s opinion rather than trying to change it.
That was a million miles away from where they’d ended up. And whether it was snowing or not, Dan knew for sure that neither of them would ever again view Valentine’s Day the way they once had.
February the fourteenth was Sam’s birthday. Everything else paled into insignificance. She should have been turning sixteen. They should have been celebrating her milestone as a family. Instead, she was gone. Absent again on her special day. Frozen in time. Fourteen forever, like the date.
Dan walked over to the coffee table and poured himself another drink from the open bottle of vodka. He’d not even bothered to replace the lid. What was the point? He’d be drinking it all tonight. And whatever else it took.
The pain was always there. It never left him. But days like this tore at the wound; they poked and prodded at it, allowing no respite.
He’d barely done a thing at work. Even Maurice hadn’t been able to keep up with all his cigarette breaks. Several people had asked if he was all right, sensing that something was wrong; he’d said he was fine, which couldn’t have been further from the truth. And then at 2 p.m., unable to bear it any more, he’d left for a fictional hospital appointment.
It was 6.30 p.m. now. He’d been drinking for four hours: first in a quiet corner of a local pub and then, once the after-work crowd arrived, he’d returned here. Not home. He couldn’t bring himself to call it that. He still held out hope that he’d be able to reconcile with Maria and move back to his real home. He had to believe that was possible for the sake of his own sanity.
If only Maria was on the same page. Last week she’d flown off the handle because he’d not found time to call in and fix a leaking tap in the downstairs bathroom.
‘I’ve been really busy at work, Maria,’ he’d explained on the phone. ‘Sorry.’
‘Forget it. I’ll get a plumber in, like I wanted to do in the first place.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a five-minute job. I’ll do it at the weekend. Surely it can wait until then.’
‘The constant dripping is driving me mad!’ she yelled, forcing him to move the receiver away from his ear.
Dan couldn’t stop himself. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t have kicked me out of the house, then.’
‘I knew it. I knew you were deliberately not fixing it to wind me up.’
‘What? Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘You’re ridiculous. A waste of space. The sooner we make this split official, the better.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’ Dan asked. ‘You need to calm down.’ But she’d already hung up – and he knew full well she’d been talking about divorce.
He didn’t think she’d meant it. When she was angry, Maria had a habit of saying whatever nasty thing came to mind. It was something he’d learned to ignore. He’d gone over that night to fix the tap, giving in to her as usual, and the row hadn’t been mentioned. But it still hurt.
Now Dan found himself picking up the phone to speak to Maria again. He hadn’t planned to do so. He’d wanted to wait and see if she’d phone him. But he’d changed his mind. He needed to speak to her and to Ruby now, before the drink got the better of him. They were the only other people who could understand what he was feeling.
She picked up on the third ring. ‘Hello?’
For a moment, Dan felt a burning desire to tell Maria how much he loved her, but he gulped it down with a swig of vodka rather than making a fool of himself.
‘Hello? Is anyone there?’
‘Hi, it’s me, Dan. Sorry, I was just, um—’
‘How are you?’
‘Yeah,’ he replied, trying to hide the waver in his voice. ‘Today was never going to be a good day, was it?’
‘No.’
He cleared his throat. Shook his head to pull himself together. ‘What about you, Maria? How are you coping?’
‘Let’s just say tomorrow can’t arrive soon enough.’
‘And Ruby?’
‘She’s not said much. You know what kids are like. They get on with it. I’ve been trying to do the same.’
‘Not easy, is it?’
‘No.’ After a pause, she added: ‘Have you been drinking? You sound a bit—’
‘I’ve just got in from work, Maria. I’m emotional, that’s all. I thought you of all people would understand.’
‘Fine. No need to shout. It was a simple question.’
‘I’m not shouting. Why do you always say that? I’m talking in my normal voice.’
Maria let out a long sigh.
Dan felt a wave of anger rise up in his chest, but he took a deep breath and forced it back down. ‘Let’s not do this today,’ he said. ‘For Sam’s sake. We’re both hurting. There’s no need to take it out on each other. Sixteen years ago—’
‘Don’t. I can’t. Hold on.’
Dan found himself picturing the magical moment when Sam was born: the best Valentine’s gift ever. He remembered holding her for the first time – this precious, fragile, noisy little bundle of life they’d created – and feeling so elated; so content that they were now a real family. He’d been brimming with optimism about their future together. How had he allowed it to go so wrong?
Ruby’s voice appeared on the line. ‘Hello, is that you, Dad?’
Dan swallowed down his feelings. ‘Hello, love. Yes, it is. How’s my girl?’
‘I’m fine. What’s the matter with Mummy? Why’s she crying?’
‘We were talking about your sister, darling. It would have been her birthday today.’
‘I know.’
‘It’s a difficult day for all of us. How are you coping?’
‘I’m all right.’
Dan could sense his daughter’s discomfort, so he didn’t push the subject. ‘How was school today?’ he asked, taking care to speak clearly and not to slur his words.
‘Good.’
‘Did you do anything special?’
‘The usual stuff.’
‘Numeracy? Literacy?’
‘Yeah, that kind of thing. Hey, Dad
. Guess what.’
‘Go on.’
‘Do you know Nathan in my class?’
‘Um, yes, I think so. Does he have blond hair and glasses?’
‘Yeah. Guess what pet he’s got.’
‘Um, I don’t know. A dragon?’
‘Dad, don’t be silly. Dragons aren’t real.’
‘Well, actually, you can get these pets called bearded dragons. There’s a man at my work who has one.’
‘Really?’
‘Uh-huh. They’re not proper dragons like you get in films. They’re much smaller and they don’t breathe fire or anything. Have a look on the Internet and you’ll see what I’m talking about. So what kind of pet does Nathan have?’
‘A pug. A really cute little black puppy. His parents brought him with them when they picked Nathan up from school and I stroked him. He’s so wrinkly and soft.’
Ruby had been a dog lover for as long as Dan could remember. Pugs were her favourite breed. She was forever looking at videos and photos of them online and wanted at least two of her own when she grew up. Dan wasn’t sure from where the interest stemmed, but he suspected it was fuelled by the fact she wasn’t allowed a dog of her own. The main reason for that was Maria, who couldn’t bear dogs, having been bitten by one as a child. Dan could take them or leave them. Ruby had tried to convince him to get one when he moved out, but he’d told her it wasn’t fair, considering he was out at work so much. Privately, he was thinking more about the prospect of moving home one day. He didn’t want to do anything that might stand in the way.
‘What’s this pug of Nathan’s called, then?’
‘Doug.’
‘Doug? That’s an unusual name for a dog.’
‘Doug the pug: it rhymes.’
He laughed. ‘Oh, I see. That’s funny. Maybe you should ask Nathan if you can go round to his house for a play date. Then you could get to know Doug as well.’
‘Are you crazy?’
‘What?’
‘Why would I want to go to a boy’s house after school?’
‘Of course. Sorry. What was I thinking?’
The irony of this conversation, which would no doubt be playing out in reverse in a few years, did not escape Dan. He resisted the momentary urge to pull her leg about whether Nathan had sent her a Valentine’s card.
‘Hold on,’ she said, ‘Mum’s calling something.’ There was a pause and then she was back. ‘I have to go for a shower.’
‘Really?’ Dan made a sniffing sound into the phone. ‘Oh, yes. That makes sense.’
‘What do you mean? Why are you making a rabbit noise?’
‘A rabbit noise?’
‘That sniffing you were doing.’
‘Oh, right. I was smelling your ear to see if there were any potatoes behind it. I think there are a few, so a shower’s probably a good idea.’
‘Daddy! You can’t smell things through the phone.’
‘That’s what you think.’
‘You’re being silly. I know you are. Anyway, I don’t have any potatoes behind my ears.’
‘Well, if you say so. Give them a good soaping just in case. Okay?’
‘Okay.’
‘I’d better let you go. See you at the weekend. Love you.’
‘Bye, Dad.’
And that was it. The phone went dead. Dan was all alone again.
It bothered him how the conversation had gone with Maria. All he wanted was to resolve things with his wife. So why did it never work out as planned? Why was an argument always waiting in the wings? Could they ever get back what they’d once had? As much as Dan wanted to believe that they could, it was hard to keep the faith.
He wondered if he ought to have wished her a happy Valentine’s Day or even sent her a card. That would have been weird, though, right? It wasn’t the kind of thing you said or did to each other when you were separated. And yet they were still technically married. No, stuff it. What would have been the point? In Maria’s eyes, everything he did these days was wrong.
Still, he couldn’t remember the last time they’d been apart on February the fourteenth. Despite Sam’s birthday rightly taking priority, they’d always continued to mark it with cards, flowers and chocolates. Until last year. There had been no Valentine’s celebrations then.
It wasn’t unusual for couples to split after losing a child. Dan was only too aware of that fact. Grief was capable of wrecking even the strongest union. He’d suggested couple’s counselling some time ago, but he’d never managed to convince Maria. So he’d gone along with her request for a trial separation, buying her pitch that the time apart – and a break from the constant arguments – might heal their wounds. There had been little sign of that so far.
‘Bottoms up,’ he said to the empty room, downing the rest of his glass of vodka, pouring himself another and downing that too.
The next thing he remembered was coming round on the couch to the unmistakeable growl of Tom Waits playing on the hi-fi. It was far too loud and, finding the remote control on his stomach, he turned it down. It was 9.55 p.m. He must have been out for a couple of hours at least. The vodka bottle was on its side on the floor, all but empty.
Dan felt somewhere in between drunk and hungover. He wrestled himself to his feet and stumbled to the bathroom, blurry-eyed and dizzy. Afterwards, nursing a pint of water and steadying himself with a hand along the wall, he made his way back to the sofa and flopped into its familiar embrace.
He needed to speak to someone: a friendly voice. He didn’t trust himself to be alone with his thoughts.
He patted himself down and found what he was looking for – his mobile. He’d left it on silent and there was a missed call. It was from Maurice, not Maria as he’d hoped. He pressed the screen, only intending to swipe the notification away, but without meaning to, he found himself returning his colleague’s call.
‘Bugger,’ he said, trying to stop it. ‘Stupid bloody thing.’
‘Hello?’ a tinny version of Maurice’s voice piped out of the earpiece. ‘Dan? Are you there?’
Oh, well. He’d wanted to speak to someone; Maurice was a safer option in his current state than bothering Maria again.
‘Sorry. Yes, I’m here. Hi.’
‘Are you okay, mate?’
‘Sure. I noticed I had a missed call from you. I was actually going to leave it until the morning, but the stupid thing phoned you anyway. Sorry. I know it’s, um, getting on.’
‘You know you can call me any time.’
‘But it’s Valentine’s Day. Aren’t you busy with one of your—’
‘It’s fine, honestly. I wanted to catch you at work, but then someone told me you’d gone. Something about a hospital appointment.’
‘Oh, right, yeah. That. I’m fine, honestly. Nothing to worry about.’
‘Are you sure? You were smoking like a chimney at work. Listen, I don’t mean to pry, but wouldn’t it have been your Sam’s birthday today?’
Dan felt his eyes welling up. He didn’t trust himself to speak.
‘I can’t believe I didn’t remember sooner,’ Maurice continued. ‘I feel awful. It came to me as I was driving home. Some friend I am. There was no hospital appointment, was there?’
Dan sighed. ‘No.’
‘Why didn’t you take the day off?’
‘I don’t know. I probably should have. You won’t say anything, will you?’
‘Of course not. What have you been doing since you left?’
‘Drinking mainly.’
‘Alone? Haven’t you seen Maria and Ruby?’
‘I spoke to them on the phone earlier.’
‘Bloody hell. Where are you now?’
‘At the flat.’
‘Would you like me to come over?’
‘No, no, no. Don’t be silly. I’m going to bed in a minute.’
‘Are you sure? It’s not a problem, honestly.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘What?’ Maurice said. ‘Hold on a minute, mate.’
Da
n could hear the muffled sound of a conversation. The rise and fall of two voices – one male, one female – a disgruntled air about the latter, although Dan couldn’t make out the words.
‘Sorry about that,’ Maurice said a moment later.
‘I’m going to let you go. You’ve got company.’
‘No, don’t worry. This is more important.’
‘It’s Valentine’s Day, Maurice. Go and have fun. There’s no need for everyone to be down just because I am. I’m going to bed now. I’m fine.’
After saying goodbye, Dan picked up the vodka bottle from the floor and drained the last few drops before heading to the kitchen to find another.
He had no intention of going to bed yet. He’d only said that to stop Maurice from coming around. No, he didn’t fancy hours of lying awake with his demons whispering at his ear. So the only option was more drinking. He’d obviously not done a good enough job the first time around. Time to try harder.
He added ice and a dash of Coke to the next stiff measure he poured himself, plus two ibuprofen to numb the swelling beat of a headache.
He took the drink to the kitchen and smoked a fag out of the window, using a cereal bowl as an ashtray. It was a non-smoking flat. Weren’t they all these days? But he’d got used to doing it this way, spraying a bit of air freshener after every cigarette. It was easier than going outside.
Head spinning with a nicotine rush, he picked up his drink and the bottle and headed to the second bedroom: the one Ruby stayed in when she came to visit, which doubled up as a computer room. He turned on the ageing Windows desktop. The Wi-Fi card had packed up a couple of days earlier, so it wasn’t connected to the Internet. That didn’t matter. He’d long since given up looking at Sam’s old social media accounts. Doing so had always felt intrusive, and he much preferred the personal, family stuff anyway. The real Sam without all that pouting. After the PC had creaked its way through the lengthy process of booting up, he found the relevant folder on the hard drive.
If Ever I Fall Page 11