If Ever I Fall

by S. D. Robertson

  We will meet again, won’t we? I hope so, my darling girl, with all my heart.

  I had to stop writing for a moment then. Sometimes the pain of missing you is so strong it’s like I can’t breathe, as though I’ve been winded. I can feel myself getting melancholy; you’d think it was three in the morning and I was sipping on a stiff drink, staring into the darkness. It’s actually 11.36 a.m. Ruby’s spending the first day of her Easter holidays with Dan, so I’m alone, sitting at the kitchen table next to a mug of half-drunk cold coffee. The weather’s lovely: one of those gorgeous April mornings that tricks you into thinking there might be a red hot summer ahead.

  I’m looking into the garden and the grass badly needs a mow. I never thought I’d catch myself thinking that. I used to berate Dan for doing it too often. I even accused him a couple of times of using it as a way to avoid spending time with us. Now I wish he was here to do it for me. He probably would if I asked him, but let’s be honest – he does enough already. It wouldn’t be fair of me to take advantage of him like that.

  I can’t help but think of mowing as a man’s job, like checking the oil and water levels in my car. Not very feminist of me, I know, but Dan always used to do those things for me. It’s not like they’re difficult. I’m managing all right, apart from the flat tyre I had a few weeks ago after not checking the air pressure for ages. They’re just not jobs I enjoy doing or want to have tagged on to my household routine.

  The grass can wait a little longer. At least until I’ve finished writing this letter. There’s no way I can end now without telling you about yesterday and my lunch date with Rick. I told you last time that he’d sent me a text about it. I wasn’t sure whether or not to go, so I didn’t reply straight away. But the next morning, as I was still umming and ahhing about it, I bumped into him on the school run. He and Anna were getting out of a small lime green car as Ruby and I pulled up.

  ‘Morning, Maria,’ he said with a wide grin. ‘What do you think of my new wheels?’

  ‘Um—’

  ‘Don’t worry. I won’t be offended. I know it’s awful. Anna and I are calling it the Snotmobile. It’s a hire car. They dropped it off last night and I’m landed with it until mine’s back from being repaired. Not exactly like for like, is it?’

  ‘No, I suppose not. How’s it going with the insurance?’

  ‘Fine. They’re confident it’ll be a straightforward claim against the other driver.’

  ‘That’s good. I still feel bad about what happened.’

  ‘Don’t. It’s fine. Hello there, Ruby. How’s the arm?’

  ‘Good,’ she replied, having spent the entire car journey moaning to me about how much it annoyed her. The novelty of having a cast for everyone to sign had worn off, replaced by the irritation of not being able to do games or PE and struggling with everyday tasks. I’d done my best to reassure her that the plaster would be removed in no time, but my words hadn’t seemed to help.

  We walked the girls to the front gate. Or I should say we followed them as they ran ahead.

  ‘Ruby’s doing well, isn’t she?’ Rick said. ‘It’s amazing how kids bounce back. I remember on holiday in Turkey one time when Anna and I both got this sickness bug. It took me days to get over it, but not her. After being up all night, head in the toilet, she was back playing in the pool the next afternoon. Probably shouldn’t have been, for the other kids’ sake, but there was no stopping her.’

  I smiled. ‘You should have heard Ruby in the car a minute ago. She was moaning like it was a life sentence.’

  ‘It can’t be much fun. No swimming for her, I suppose.’

  I shook my head. ‘Definitely not. Washing’s hard enough. She has to go in the bath now rather than the shower, which causes an argument most nights. And she hates that I have to help her.’

  ‘I can imagine.’

  After we’d waved goodbye to the girls and were walking back to our cars, I knew I ought to say something about Rick’s text. I have to admit, I’d noticed some of the looks he was getting from the other mums that morning and I’m pretty sure he’d noticed too. It served as a reminder that if I messed him around, there’d be no shortage of other women happy to take my place. God forbid one of the Queen Bs should get their claws into him.

  Do it, I told myself. What is there to lose? It’s only lunch. I shoved my guilty feelings about betraying Dan to the back of my mind; I thought about his drinking, his smoking, his moods; the endless rows we’d had and his nasty rant the other night.

  So I went for it. Well, I attempted to, but it didn’t quite work out. Rick and I tried to speak at the same time. Then each of us stopped speaking at the same time, to allow the other to continue. Then we both blurted out ‘you first’ in sync and broke into a fit of giggles.

  ‘Seriously, you first,’ I said eventually. I could feel my cheeks flushing.

  ‘I was going to ask you about my text,’ he replied, still smiling. ‘You did get it, right?’

  ‘Yes. Sorry. I meant to reply but—’

  ‘It’s fine if you don’t want to. I understand.’

  ‘No, that’s not it.’ I was gabbling a bit and I took a deep breath, forcing myself to slow my words down. ‘I’d love to have lunch with you. I wanted to reply in person, that’s all. When were you thinking?’

  We settled on Thursday – yesterday – as Rick was working from home. He suggested an Italian restaurant that opened recently in what used to be the Derby Arms pub. You remember the place, don’t you, Sam? It’s down that windy lane that runs behind the swimming baths. We had dinner there that time when there was a power cut and the staff brought out loads of candles so we could still see one another. Ruby was scared and you were great with her, sitting her on your knee and singing songs into her ear until she was calm again. It closed about a year ago and lay empty for a while until this Sardinian family came along and gutted it. I’d not been before yesterday, but I’d heard good things and wasn’t disappointed.

  Rick looked as gorgeous as ever, dressed in a pair of cream chinos and a red polo shirt that showed off his powerful arms, broad shoulders and generally perfect body. I’d gone for subtle make-up with a demure maxi skirt and blouse. I wanted to look like I’d made an effort, Sam, but not overly so.

  There were only a handful of other people in the restaurant. I had a delicious prawn linguine dish with a glass of white wine and raspberry cheesecake for dessert. You always liked cheesecake, didn’t you, Sam? Well, you’d have loved this one, trust me. It was so creamy and delicious. Rick had a spicy pizza and profiteroles with mineral water.

  ‘You’re not going to make me drink alone, are you?’ I asked after the voluptuous Italian waitress, mid-forties but dressed twenty years younger, had taken our order.

  ‘You go ahead. I could kill a glass of red, but I’ve got a report to finish this afternoon. Lunchtime drinking makes me sleepy.’

  ‘How conscientious.’

  Rick laughed. ‘You haven’t met my boss.’

  ‘That bad?’

  ‘Not really. I’m just joking. I’ve definitely had worse.’

  ‘How’s it all going at work?’ I asked him. ‘Have you settled into the new office okay?’

  ‘Well, you know how it is with these things. There are always teething troubles. We’re getting there.’

  ‘What does it entail exactly, being a finance manager?’

  ‘Nothing very exciting, trust me. Lots of number crunching and strategic analysis. I won’t bore you with the details. It pays the bills, though.’

  He nodded in the direction of the waitress, who was chatting with a young beefcake of a barman, and lowered his voice. ‘Not leaving much to the imagination, is she?’

  I smiled.

  ‘Have you seen the way those two are looking at each other?’ he added.

  ‘No, what do you mean?’

  Rick raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t make it too obvious that you’re watching, but there’s something going on there, I reckon.’

  I stol
e a furtive glance at the bar. ‘Do you think so? She’s old enough to be his mother. Besides, doesn’t she run the place with her husband?’

  Rick shrugged, flashing those perfect white teeth at me. ‘All the same.’

  Their potential affair became an ongoing joke between us, filling in gaps in the conversation and, somehow, making our own interactions more intimate.

  Don’t get me wrong, we talked about lots of other things too. The conversation flowed, from the familiar topic of our respective daughters, to films, music, favourite holiday destinations, food and drink. Typical first date chat, I suppose, although I’m no expert. Prior to that, I’d not been on a date with anyone other than Dan for years.

  There was an awkward moment when Rick asked if I’d ever wanted to have more than one child. The question totally blindsided me. I had no idea what to say. My throat closed up, which he mistook for me choking on a prawn from my pasta dish. He was very concerned, even dashing around to my side of the table to see if he could help in any way. It was refreshing in light of his previous behaviour when Ruby broke her arm, but – unbeknown to him – totally unnecessary. Anyhow, I let him think that it was because of the food and, luckily, it caused enough of a distraction so his question got forgotten. Not that I’ve forgotten about you, Sam. How could I? I just didn’t know how to tell him about you yet. I didn’t think I’d be able to make it through the sentence without crying.

  As for the rest of the chat, I had planned to make some subtle enquiries about how Rick had ended up as a single dad, but he suggested early on that we should avoid talking about each other’s past relationships. ‘Plenty of time for all that miserable stuff later,’ was how he put it. ‘Let’s concentrate on getting to know each other today.’

  Rick was flirtatious: offering me compliments, maintaining eye contact and occasionally brushing his hand against mine or touching my arm. Nothing full on. He kept it light-hearted, like our banter about the two staff members.

  Afterwards, the killjoy in me questioned whether his performance was perhaps too polished, as if he’d done this a lot before. He was such a gentleman from start to finish. He opened doors for me, took my coat, and insisting on paying for everything, despite my objections. He made the whole experience feel special.

  We’d greeted each other with a kiss at the start of the date. Just a peck on the cheek. In the car on the way home, I was wondering how we’d say goodbye.

  ‘I’ve had a lot of fun,’ Rick said as we pulled up outside my house.

  ‘Me too. Especially getting a lift in the Snotmobile. That has to be the highlight.’ I was doing my utmost to sound relaxed and confident, but in truth I was a bundle of nerves at that point. It was as if I was a teenager again, getting a ride home with a new boyfriend in his parents’ car; wondering what was going through his mind and whether he was about to lean over and snog me.

  Rick rolled his eyes. ‘Charming. What about my scintillating company?’

  ‘A close second.’

  ‘I can live with that. No point trying to compete with a supercar. So are we going to do this again?’

  ‘That depends. How long have you got the Snotmobile?’

  ‘A little while yet, I reckon.’

  ‘You’re on.’

  ‘Excellent. But no choking episodes next time, please. You gave me a fright there.’

  ‘I’ll do my best.’

  ‘Glad to hear it,’ he replied with a grin. ‘Oh, wait a second. I have to get something.’

  He jumped out of the car and ran to the boot, appearing at my door a moment later with two Easter eggs. ‘These are for you and Ruby.’

  ‘Oh, Rick,’ I said, climbing out of the car. ‘You shouldn’t have. I feel bad now. I haven’t got anything for you.’

  He shrugged. ‘Not at all. I didn’t expect it. Have a great Easter.’

  ‘You too. You’re in Brighton, right, with family?’

  He pulled a face. ‘Unfortunately. I’d rather be at home, like you. Catch up soon?’

  ‘Definitely. Thanks so much. I had a lot of fun.’

  He grinned. ‘Me too.’ Then, before I knew it, he was giving me another peck on the cheek. Buoyed by the wine, I considered throwing my arms around him and giving him a proper kiss, but I chickened out. All I managed was a little hug. Next thing I knew, he was walking back to the driver’s side of the car and my chance was gone.

  Afterwards, I was like a besotted schoolgirl. I found myself skipping from room to room, too excited to do anything other than laugh at my reflection in the mirror and relive each moment of the date in my mind. I wanted to talk it through with someone. I almost wrote to you then, Sam, but I found myself too hyper to sit down and put pen to paper.

  Instead, I daydreamed of what might have happened if I’d been more daring and gone for that kiss. Or what if I’d taken it a step further and invited him inside? It’s probably as well I didn’t. I doubt I’d be able to handle that much at this early stage.

  Maybe next time.

  I’ll write again soon, Sam.

  Love as always,

  M

  Xx

  CHAPTER 19

  BEFORE

  Friday, 28 October 2016

  ‘Hello. Anyone home?’

  ‘Hi, Daddy. I’m in the lounge.’

  ‘Where’s Mummy?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Upstairs, I think.’

  ‘Maria?’ Dan called up the stairs. ‘I’m home.’

  There was no reply, so he hung his coat up and headed for the fridge. He pulled out a cold bottle of beer, flipped the cap off with the opener on the door and took a long swig.

  He was about to head to the lounge when he thought of Ruby. ‘Would you like a drink, love?’ he called.

  ‘Yes. Water, please.’

  He smiled at this. Ruby’s class teacher had made a big thing this term about the importance of drinking lots of water and his daughter had really taken it to heart. Good on her, he thought, wondering how long it would last until she was asking for cordial or Coke again.

  He carried the water through to the lounge with his beer. ‘Here you go, darling,’ he said, placing the plastic beaker on to the coffee table and planting a kiss on Ruby’s forehead.

  ‘Thanks, Daddy,’ she replied, eyes staying glued on the TV.

  ‘How was school?’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘What did you get up to?’

  ‘The usual stuff.’

  ‘Who did you play with?’

  ‘Amelia.’

  ‘Got any homework?’

  ‘A bit.’

  ‘Such as?’

  Ruby sighed.

  ‘Oh, come on, grumpy head,’ Dan said, ruffling her curls. ‘Is it really that hard to say a few words to me when I get in from work?’

  ‘I’m not grumpy. I’m just watching this programme.’

  Dan looked at the screen, awash with precocious, overeager American kids, and resisted the urge to say something disparaging. ‘Well, I’d still like to know what you’ve got to do for homework this week, Ruby. Maybe we’d better turn the television off if it’s so distracting you can’t tell me.’

  ‘Fine,’ she puffed, wriggling with frustration in her seat. ‘I have to practise my seven and eight times tables, I’ve got my spellings to do – like every week – and I have to write a review of the last book I finished.’

  ‘Thank you. That wasn’t so hard, was it? And have you done any of it yet?’

  ‘Daaadddy!’

  ‘It’s a simple question, Ruby. Shall I turn this off?’

  ‘No! Please don’t. I’ve done most of my spellings and Mummy said I could do the rest tomorrow and Sunday.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘I bet you’re going to turn the telly off anyway, aren’t you?’

  ‘I will do if you take that tone with me. Why are you so moody today? Did something happen at school?’

  ‘No. I’m tired, that’s all.’

  ‘I’m tired too, darling, but we don’t have to tak
e it out on each other.’

  Dan took a long swig on his bottle and watched a few minutes of the TV show, which only served to confirm his suspicion that it was mindless nonsense. Mind you, that was probably what his parents had thought of the things he watched as a child, which he now considered classics.

  ‘Did Mummy say what was for tea tonight?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you getting hungry?’

  ‘A bit.’

  ‘Right, I’ll see if I can find out. Did you say she was upstairs?’

  ‘I think so.’

  Dan necked the last few drops of his beer and went to look for his wife.

  ‘Maria,’ he called as he got to the top of the stairs.

  ‘What?’ a muffled voice replied from the other side of their bedroom door, which was closed.

  Dan still thought of it as their bedroom, but he hadn’t slept in there for ages, thanks to his banishment to the spare room.

  ‘Everything all right?’ he asked, tapping gently on the door, knowing better than to barge in.

  ‘Yes. Fine. But don’t come in. I’m in the middle of something.’

  ‘I was wondering what was for tea. Ruby’s getting hungry.’

  ‘Do I have to do everything?’

  ‘I can do it,’ Dan replied, keen to avoid starting the weekend with an argument. ‘But it would be helpful to know what you had planned.’

  ‘Why don’t you have a look in the fridge? Oh, bloody hell. I’ve lost my place now. Why can no one leave me alone?’

  ‘Fine, fine. Never mind. I’ll sort something out.’

  Dan headed back down the stairs. He dreaded to think what she was doing in the bedroom. It wouldn’t have surprised him if it involved her obsessively poring over the photos of Sam she insisted on keeping hidden away. He’d caught her doing that before. Whatever it was, he could tell from the answers he’d received that there would be no reasoning with her. She was having one of her episodes. Trying to talk to her about it was only likely to make things worse. That was how he’d got himself moved into the spare room, after all. No, she’d end up shouting and screaming at him; Ruby would get upset too. It wasn’t worth it.

  Maria had never been like this before Sam died. Sure, she’d been a bit fussy: liking her clothes to be hung up in a certain way, for instance, and getting cross if he didn’t stick to the way she’d ordered things in the kitchen or bathroom. She’d always been a bit of a perfectionist, especially when it came to her job. But lots of people were like that. And she hadn’t ever let it get the better of her back then. Not like it did now, on what seemed to be an ever-increasing scale.