If Ever I Fall

by S. D. Robertson

  I smiled. ‘Morning. Did you sleep well?’

  ‘Fine, thank you.’

  ‘I’ve explained to the girls that you drank a glass too much wine to drive safely last night, because drink-driving is very dangerous.’

  He ran his right hand across the dark stubble on his cheeks. ‘Right.’

  ‘Sit down, Daddy,’ Anna said in between mouthfuls of cereal. ‘Have some breakfast with us.’

  ‘Yes, please do,’ I said. ‘Let me get you a cup of coffee. Toast? Cereal?’

  He looked as awkward as hell standing there, finding things to do with his hands, eyes everywhere apart from in my direction. ‘I’m okay, thanks. We need to get going, Anna. Daddy has things to do.’

  ‘What things?’ she asked. ‘Can’t I stay and play a bit longer?’

  ‘No, love. Finish your breakfast and I’ll get your stuff together. Is everything in Ruby’s room?’

  Anna nodded.

  ‘Maria, is it all right if I go and—’

  ‘Of course.’

  He disappeared back upstairs, leaving me puzzled. Where was the man I’d spent a lovely evening with yesterday? I’d never seen him like this before, even when Ruby had fallen down the stairs. He’d been useless then, but not cold.

  I followed him to Ruby’s room.

  ‘What’s up?’ I asked, finding him kneeling on the floor, rolling Anna’s sleeping bag.

  ‘Nothing,’ he replied without turning to look at me. ‘I have some work stuff to do.’

  I stared at the closely cropped hair on the back of his head, remembering the way it had made me shiver when it had brushed across my naked body hours earlier. ‘On a Sunday?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is this about what happened between us last night?’

  ‘No. I … never mind.’

  ‘What?’

  He sighed. ‘I wish you hadn’t said what you did to Anna about me drinking too much.’

  ‘What was I supposed to say? The truth? It’s not like I told her you were drunk.’

  ‘She’s my daughter. I would have preferred to handle it myself.’

  He continued stuffing Anna’s things into her bag.

  So where did this leave us? I was tempted to ask if he’d lost interest after getting what he wanted; if the sex had been that bad for him, although it definitely hadn’t seemed that way. Instead, I slipped back down to the kitchen and pretended nothing was wrong.

  The only hugs and kisses as we said goodbye were between the girls. I suppose that would have been the case regardless, considering the fact they were watching, so I didn’t dwell on it.

  I told myself Rick was tired and embarrassed. I thought he’d contact me later on and it would all be fine. However, it’s three days now and I’ve not had so much as a text message from him. I thought he’d at least ask after my parents following the accident, but not a peep. I’ve not contacted him either. He was the one being offhand.

  Anyhow, I’m dealing with it much better than expected. I should be feeling used; worrying about my sexual performance and other things I might have done wrong.

  I’m not.

  The old me would have been going crazy now. Especially with Ruby out of the house. But that’s not the case. I know I told you the OCD isn’t good today, but the important thing is that I haven’t given in to it. I’m still in control, and that’s what I’ll be reporting to Rosie later on. I’ll be focusing on the positive, like she encourages me to do.

  The intrusive thoughts that come with OCD aren’t unusual. Most people have them, according to Rosie, but aren’t troubled by them. For me, there’s that overwhelming desire to act; to address a perceived level of threat. Every time I resist and do nothing, that’s a win.

  When I see Rosie now, which is less and less often, it’s mainly to report on my progress. I’m essentially fighting a duel with myself, but she’s always there to arm me with new tools. Last time she mentioned learning some relaxation techniques; fingers crossed that will be on the agenda today.

  As for Dan and Rick, hopefully I’ll have more to tell you when I next write. I can’t believe it’s all so up in the air. I’ve got myself into a mess, haven’t I? As I’ve been penning this letter, one thing has become clear: my relationship with Dan is by far the most important to me. That’s what I need to fix.

  I think having sex with Rick was something I needed to get out of my system. It was great, don’t get me wrong. But for all the animalistic passion, there was none of the honesty and intimacy of what I used to have with Dan. That develops over years of being together. I didn’t know it was something I missed until now. My mind’s been clouded for so long: first with my grief over losing you and then with my OCD. Finally I’m starting to see things clearly.

  Rick still doesn’t know about you, Sam. Not unless he’s heard it from someone else. I haven’t found the right moment to tell him. Even if I do, he’ll never understand. Not like your father does.

  So what are my chances of getting Dan to understand all of this? I’ll have to give him time to cool off first. Then we’ll see. Days ago he was trying to convince me to give it another go, but that was before I slept with Rick. Still, I don’t regret telling him the truth; I couldn’t have lived with myself otherwise.

  That’s all for now, Sam. I need to get myself ready to see Rosie. I’ll write again soon.

  Love as always,

  M

  Xx

  CHAPTER 28

  BEFORE

  Thursday, 31 December 2015

  ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Not too bad. You?’

  ‘Nearly there. A couple more pages to tie up. Then I’m out of here.’

  Dan nodded. ‘Me too.’

  He wondered how much small talk it would take before Maurice got to the point, the real reason he was standing next to his desk, which they both knew was to crash a fag.

  That was the lot, as it turned out.

  ‘You don’t by any chance, um, fancy popping out for a smoke, do you?’

  ‘Have you got baccy?’ Dan replied, barely keeping a straight face. It was fun to make his friend squirm.

  Maurice shrugged, looking down at his feet. ‘I haven’t. I’m a nightmare, aren’t I? I bet your heart sinks every time you see me walking over. If I could just bum one more off you today, I’ll buy you a pack next week, I promise. I’ll even buy you a pint after work, if you like.’

  ‘Go on then,’ Dan said, standing up and pulling his jacket from the seatback. ‘Seeing as it’s you.’

  There weren’t many people who’d be able to get away with it like Maurice did. But he’d been a good friend to Dan in tough times, and he was always great company, so he’d earned special treatment. Besides, based on past experience, he would eventually buy Dan a pack. It might not be next week, but it would happen.

  ‘Are you going to take me up on that drink, then?’ Maurice asked once they got outside. ‘It is New Year’s Eve after all.’

  ‘Yeah, I could probably fit a quick one in. What are your plans for tonight? Partying with one of your lady friends, are you?’

  ‘Oh, we’ll see. I’m weighing up a couple of options. I’m not a big fan of New Year’s Eve.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Always a let-down. Everyone builds it up and then there’s that awkward countdown to midnight. Once all the kissing and bad renditions of “Auld Lang Syne” are out of the way, what’s left?’

  ‘Nice weather for it,’ Dan said with a shiver, huddling into his jacket in a bid to fend off the cold.

  ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘Not much. Maria and I are staying in. We don’t feel like celebrating. We had to make an effort at Christmas, for Ruby’s sake, but tonight is mainly for adults, right?’

  Dan took a long drag on his cigarette before adding: ‘Annual events, even the smaller ones like Bonfire Night, reopen the wound. Remind us of what happened; who’s missing. Not that we ever forget. These times just accentuate the pain. Sorry, mate. I don’t mean to
be morbid.’

  Maurice placed a hand on Dan’s shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You know I’m here any time for you. What you guys have been through: there are no words. How are Maria and Ruby?’

  ‘Ruby’s probably managing the best out of all of us. At least on the surface. I thought she might get into trouble at school, that kind of thing, but there’s been no sign of it so far. She hardly mentions Sam, which doesn’t seem healthy to me, and yet I don’t feel like I should be forcing our conversations that way either.’

  Maurice nodded. ‘How old is she now? Seven, isn’t it?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Poor thing. No one should have to go through that so young.’

  ‘I know. I do worry that it’ll come out when she’s older. That she’ll always be messed up by it on some level. I’ve done my best to make sure she doesn’t blame herself. You know, in some kind of warped way.’

  ‘And Maria? How’s she coping?’

  ‘Not well. It’s hard to explain, because I don’t really know what’s going on with her. She’s closed herself off, insisting on handling it alone. She’s not interested in counselling or anything like that.’

  ‘Tricky.’

  ‘You’re telling me.’ Dan bent down and stubbed out his smoke under his shoe.

  An hour or so later, Dan turned off his computer and, together with Maurice, headed back outside to his car. They were among the last to leave. Dan had half expected to receive a phone call reporting a breaking news story that couldn’t be ignored, but thankfully it didn’t happen and he was free to go.

  ‘Red Lion?’ he said with a straight face as Maurice peeled off towards his own car: an ancient green Volvo that he dubbed the Tank.’

  ‘Yeah, right. You know you wouldn’t catch me dead in that miserable excuse for a pub. White Horse?’

  ‘Sure. I’ll see you there.’

  They met at the bar of the pub – a traditional but popular spot, small enough to always look busy – after both parking nearby.

  Maurice was ordering their drinks when a burly bald chap walked up and thumped him on the shoulder. ‘All right, Shanksy,’ he boomed. ‘Long time no see.’

  ‘Who was that?’ Dan asked him a few minutes later when they headed outside to the beer garden to huddle under one of the heaters.

  ‘A guy I was at school with. I never liked him, to be honest, which was why I cut it short and suggested we came out here.’

  ‘Really? You did a good job of hiding that. I thought he must have been an old friend.’

  ‘No point being rude, is there? I haven’t seen him for years.’

  ‘What’s with the name? Shanksy he called you, wasn’t it?’

  Maurice chuckled. ‘That was my nickname once upon a time. Not one I miss.’

  ‘Go on. You have to tell me why now.’

  ‘Only if you promise never to use it or to tell anyone else.’

  ‘Scout’s honour.’

  ‘Fine,’ he replied, grinning. ‘Bit of a funny story. There was a time at secondary school when I, um, got caught short. I’d had a bout of diarrhoea and didn’t quite make it to the loo in time. I ran there in a panic and, for some ridiculous reason, decided the best thing to do was to stick my soiled underpants in the cistern and go commando. I don’t recall how the story got out. I must have told someone who then blabbed. Anyway, I never lived it down. Shanksy came from Armitage Shanks, the toilet manufacturer; unfortunately it stuck.’

  Dan laughed. ‘No way. That’s hilarious. But why would you—’

  ‘No idea. Totally weird, I know. I wanted rid of them and that was the nearest option.’

  A little later, puffing on another borrowed cigarette, Maurice asked how Dan was coping with the situation at home.

  ‘I’m all right. As well as can be expected.’

  Maurice lowered his voice. ‘Are you still seeing, um—’

  ‘The shrink? No, not for the moment. He did help, though.’

  Maurice was the only person Dan had told about seeing a therapist. He wasn’t as comfortable about the fact as he made out. He’d had six sessions, mainly to help deal with the depression he’d been feeling, and they really had helped. But it wasn’t something he liked thinking about. It had occurred to him that maybe part of the reason he’d felt better was because he didn’t want to be in therapy any longer. Who could say?

  ‘Well, if you ever need anyone to talk to informally, don’t hesitate. I’m happy to listen any time.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll pay you in fags, shall I?’

  Maurice laughed.

  ‘Seriously, though,’ Dan added. ‘It’s New Year’s Eve. Let’s talk about something else, like the couple of options you’re weighing up for tonight? Come on, Shanksy.’

  ‘Do not use that name, mate. Seriously. You promised.’

  ‘Fine. But throw a bone to a sex-starved married guy. I need to get my thrills somehow.’

  ‘A gentleman never tells.’

  Dan grinned. ‘I never had you down as one.’

  ‘I’ll tell you who isn’t a gentleman: my daughter Sasha’s new boyfriend, Oli. He’s a cocky little shit. I actually walked in on them having sex the other day.’

  ‘You did not.’

  ‘Seriously. Can you imagine?’

  Dan winced. ‘How much did you see?’

  ‘They were under the covers, thank goodness. I got back in from work early and heard music coming from her room. She wasn’t even supposed to be at my place that day. She should have been at her mum’s. I probably ought to have knocked, but I had no idea. She’s only just turned eighteen.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Screamed in sync with Sasha and ran out of there. She came to see me after a few minutes, as mortified as I was and full of apologies, but when he eventually emerged, he was grinning like an idiot. Didn’t even mention it, like he couldn’t care less. Then he had the cheek to put his feet up on the couch, shoes and all. I don’t know what she sees in him. He’s obviously a player, only after one thing, but she fawns over him. I can’t wait for him to move on, although of course I’d never tell that to Sasha. Honestly, I wouldn’t wish a teenage daughter on anyone.’

  Maurice saw Dan’s face fall and instantly knew what he’d said. ‘Oh, mate. I didn’t think. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Dan replied after a pause. ‘You shouldn’t have to tiptoe around me.’

  ‘No, but seriously. I take that back. I apologise.’

  ‘Apology accepted. I know you didn’t mean it.’

  It did leave a sour taste in Dan’s mouth, all the same. A reminder of what – who – was missing from his and his family’s lives was all it took to cast his mind into a dark place. He felt a powerful urge to stay out and drink whatever it took to numb the pain; to forget his troubles for a few hours. At home, no matter how much you drank, there were reminders of Sam around every corner. He dragged himself back there nonetheless.

  At least one person was glad to see him when he walked through the front door.

  ‘Daddy,’ Ruby shouted, jumping up into his arms. ‘You’re home.’

  ‘Hello, gorgeous,’ Dan beamed, troubles forgotten for a moment in his little girl’s toasty embrace. ‘What have I done to deserve this lovely welcome?’

  Ruby shrugged as he plonked her down on the ground. ‘Why are you so cold?’

  ‘Because it’s freezing outside,’ he said, placing a hand on her hot forehead and making her squeal.

  ‘Daddy! That’s mean.’

  At least she hadn’t told him that he smelled disgusting. That was why he kept mints and a spray deodorant in the car, to cover up the cigarette smell. No need to impose his dirty habit on her.

  Dan’s parents, Bill and Margaret, had both smoked when he was growing up. He remembered hating the way they smelled afterwards and how he would refuse their hugs and kisses until it had gone away. They’d done it in front of him in the house, of course. That was the way in those days.
r />   How quickly he’d moved from being an arch opponent of cigarettes to a young smoker. His first one had been swiped from his parents. He’d been thirteen and egged on by a school friend, and soon afterwards he was smoking daily, loving the buzz it gave him and the small sense of rebellion he felt every time he lit up.

  Dan really hoped that Ruby wouldn’t follow in his footsteps. To his knowledge, Sam never had, but he’d quit when she was only seven, soon after Ruby’s birth, so at least he’d not been setting a bad example after that. He thought he’d kicked the habit once and for all, until his world collapsed and he ran back to his old crutch. Now he couldn’t see himself packing it in again. He said all the right things to Ruby, about it being a dirty habit and how he wished he’d never started. But he knew that if she wanted to smoke when she was older, she’d do it regardless. He was still smoking despite his father dying from a heart attack.

  Dan’s mum had quit some time ago. Once the Alzheimer’s had started, he used to joke that she’d forgotten that she smoked. He wasn’t making fun of her; it was just his way of dealing with it. But such comments made others uncomfortable, like they didn’t know if it was acceptable to laugh or not.

  He’d been to visit her after work on Christmas Eve. The home she was in was only a few miles away from the office, in a peaceful spot overlooking a golf course on the edge of the city. It seemed nice enough, despite all the horror stories he’d heard about such places. He did feel bad about the fact she was in there, but what else was he supposed to do? She needed specialist care around the clock and didn’t even know who he was half the time.

  Making the decision to move her there had been a hard one, especially since he had no other siblings to talk it through with; no one else to share the burden. Maria had been very supportive, but she wasn’t a blood relation. She hadn’t been brought up by her. The Alzheimer’s had been in its infancy when Dan’s dad was still alive, but there had been a rapid decline after he’d gone.

  It made Dan sad to think that Ruby had never known his father and that her only memories of his mother would be like this: a husk of her old self, ravaged by dementia. He wished she could have experienced what he had with his grandmother – Gangy, as he’d called her. She’d often looked after him as a child and they’d had great times together: making marmalade, jams and cakes; taking long walks along the river; listening to each other’s stories.