The Seven Year Itch

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The Seven Year Itch Page 30

by Emlyn Rees


  ‘Where are you going?’ I ask.

  ‘I’ve decided it’s better for you guys if I’m not here,’ she says. ‘I’m staying with Simon and then I’m moving next week. I don’t want to get in the way.’

  ‘Get in the way of what? There’s only me and Ben here.’

  ‘No, honestly, I think I should go. You need your personal space.’

  A week ago, I would have found this magnanimous statement irritating in its sheer irony, but not now.

  I never thought I’d think it, but with Jack not here, I rather wish Kate would stay, so that I don’t have to spend another night on my own.

  There’s an awkward pause.

  ‘Ben will miss you. He’s enjoyed having you around. You’re so good with him.’

  ‘It’s easy when it’s someone else’s kid.’

  ‘Yes, well, for what it’s worth, I think you’ll make a great mum, one day.’

  Kate laughs and then looks at me as if I’m crazy. ‘Not me. I’m never going to have kids,’ she says, shaking her head. ‘Come to think of it, I don’t know any of my friends who want one.’

  ‘What . . . never?’

  She shrugs.

  ‘But don’t you realise that having a child means experiencing the most powerful form of love there is?’

  ‘So, if you feel like that, why do you moan about how hard it is all the time?’

  Kate’s comment hits me like a lorry-sized home truth that’s just reversed into the flat.

  ‘Do I?’

  She nods.

  Oh God. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I am a big moaner. And it’s not just Ben I’ve bellyached about, but Jack, too. On the radio. To thousands of listeners.

  Did Jessie Kay home in on him because she thought I didn’t love him? Did she feel sorry for him, when she heard what an ungrateful wife I was? I mean, all that stuff about him being a hypochondriac . . . and worse . . .

  If Kate could get the impression that I don’t love being Ben’s mother, when nothing could be further from the truth, couldn’t Jessie Kay have got the impression that I don’t love being Jack’s wife?

  ‘You know,’ Kate says, ‘you and Jack . . . I really hope it works out for you both.’

  ‘How can it, when he won’t talk to me?’

  ‘You’ll just have to find a way to make him listen. He’s a stubborn bastard, Amy. He always was. None of us can believe you have the patience to put up with him. But if he won’t listen to you, or see you, then you’re going to have to find another way.’

  Then it occurs to me. . . . I do have another way.

  I pick up the phone and call Matt. I’ve got a radio frequency for him to write down. To give Jack when he gets back. In time for my next slot on Jessie’s show.

  I’m Not Afraid To Speak My Mind

  Radio CapitalChat

  Jessie’s Daily Discussion: What’s the point of being married?

  Caller: Amy from West London.

  I think there’s every point in being married. Because you don’t really realise what it means, until you have a family. And until you’re challenged. And people . . . people like you, Jessie Kay, should respect people who are married more, because sometimes it’s difficult to tell how much two married people mean to each other. Because it’s just not done to shout about how much you love your husband. I mean, people wear T-shirts saying I Love New York, or I Love Chocolate, but they never wear one saying, I Love My Husband. And us married lot – we don’t snog in public any more. And people think we’re boring and stuck in our ways. And yes, sometimes we are guilty of getting boring, of not taking care of our relationship, of forgetting to do something exciting once in a while.

  Er . . . hang on a minute. Is this Amy? Amy from West London?

  And I may sound emotional, but I know that after seven years, my greatest achievement, by far, is my relationship with my husband.

  Well, Amy, I’m afraid this is a radio show, and we’re debating the relevance of the institution of marriage in today’s society. Not focusing on individual marital spats. I’m sorry, but this is not the place to sort out your personal problems –

  Isn’t it, Jessie? Well, I’m sorry, but didn’t you make it personal when you tried to sleep with my husband?

  Ooooo-kaaay. Thank you for your call. And next up . . . let’s move on to some music –

  Because you did try and seduce Jack, didn’t you, Jessie? In your house? Didn’t you strip off naked and shove your big, false tits in my husband’s face?

  Alex? GET HER OFF MY SHOW –

  But you know what? He wouldn’t do it with you, Jessie, would he? Because he’s got something that you’ll never have: integrity. And Jack, if you’re listening, you will never realise how much I respect you for that, and I want you to know that I’m sorry. Truly, deeply, terribly sorry for letting you down. For letting us down. I would give anything to take what I did back.

  Alex. DID YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID?

  But you’ve got to know that I’ve never, ever stopped loving you, Jack. Not for one second. In the whole time we’ve been together.

  I’m sorry listeners, but my producer seems to be fast asleep. Amy get off the line. Now.

  Oh, don’t get your G-string in a twist. I’m going. I’ve said all I want to say. Apart from one other thing. Jessie Kay . . . Go fuck yourself!

  I put the phone down and I’m shaking.

  Almost immediately, the phone rings again. My heart leaps. It’s Jack, I know it is.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Wow! Amy, that was incredible. I’ve been waiting for someone to sock it to the old bitch for ages. The entire production team is whooping here.’

  ‘Alex?’

  ‘She’s going mental,’ he laughs, ‘absolutely mental.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Alex. That was totally out of order. Are you going to get into trouble –’

  ‘Of course I am – I was the one who was meant to pull the plug – but Jessie Kay deserves everything coming to her. She’s been treating me like shit for years.’

  ‘I’m still sorry.’

  ‘Look I’ve got to go, but one more thing . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Is it OK if I give you a call sometime in the next week? I haven’t got time to talk now, but I’m moving to another radio station, a new one a friend of mine is setting up, and I think I might be able to use someone like you. You know, as part of the team. I haven’t forgotten you mentioned getting into radio, and I need someone honest, who can suss out the bullshitters and who isn’t afraid to speak her mind.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘I’m not promising anything right now . . . and there are some people I’ll need to speak to first, but yeah, I really hope we can work something out. So . . . can I call you?’

  ‘Yes. Definitely. And Alex, thank you. For everything.’

  ‘You’re welcome. And Amy. I want to hear all about Jack. My boyfriend Linus can’t wait to find out what happens next.’

  I put down the phone and stare at it, stunned.

  You’ve Got To Have Faith

  But nothing does happen next.

  I pace around the flat. Every time a car goes past, I jump. I stare at the phone and check it for messages all morning, but in the end I can stand it no more.

  I’m still shaking as I take Ben to the park. We head for the sandpit and he jumps out of his buggy and leaps in with all the other kids. It’s crammed today. Fortunately, at least Ben seems totally unaware of my marital crisis.

  I look around me and feel completely isolated. There are no men here, as usual, only women, and suddenly I’m terrified.

  Is that it? Is Jack really not going to forgive me?

  I can’t believe that the unimaginable has happened.

  I’m standing somewhere so familiar, and yet I feel like an alien. Everything has changed. I’ve just crash-landed into my future, and it’s not how I expected it to be at all. It’s barren and lonely and never-ending.

  Then, just when I think I can’t f
eel any worse, I see Faith and she waves.

  Of all the people in the world, why did I have to bump into Faith today?

  ‘Hi, Amy,’ she says, as I slump on to the bench next to her. ‘You look dreadful.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘How was New York?’

  ‘Don’t ask.’

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘You really want to know?’ Oh Faith, I think, you’re just going to love this, and you’re going to rub my nose in it forever more . . .

  ‘Well, you know what?’ I say, ‘You’re here and I need a friend. So you’ll just have to do.’

  ‘I don’t understand?’

  I take a deep, shuddering breath. ‘Well, Faith, I think my husband’s just left me.’

  She stares at me, open-mouthed.

  There’s a long pause.

  And out of nowhere, wet, soggy, blubbering, uncontrolled sobbing overtakes me. Faith puts her hand on my arm. Then she hugs me.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I tell her, eventually, blowing my nose and wiping away my tears. ‘I’ve made a right bloody pig’s ear of everything. I’m sorry to break down on you, like this –’

  Faith smiles at me, then she positively grins.

  ‘Oh Amy, thank fuck.’

  ‘What?’

  This is not the reaction I’m expecting.

  ‘Don’t you see?’ she says, holding my wrist.

  ‘No?’

  ‘You have emotions after all. Thank the Lord. You’re normal. You’re not one of them.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘That stupid group of bitches.’

  ‘You mean the Vipers?’

  ‘Is that what you call them? Very appropriate. Man, they make me feel so inadequate.’

  ‘Me too,’ I admit.

  ‘Well I thought you were one of them. The most stupid cow of the lot, actually,’ she says, but her eyes are kind.

  ‘Me?’

  ‘I thought you were perfect and nothing ever went wrong and you coped with everything all the time.’

  I wipe my eyes and smile. ‘Er . . . no.’

  ‘You know, I’ve tried so hard to do this mum thing. I thought it would be easy, but it’s so difficult being so . . . so inane.’

  I smile at her through my tears. ‘Don’t do yourself down, Faith. You’re pretty good at being inane.’

  She laughs.

  ‘I just wish we could all be honest, like we’re being now,’ she says, ‘because you know what? If it’s any consolation, my life’s not so great either.’

  ‘Isn’t it? You always seem to be in control to me.’

  ‘That’s all bollocks. I’m not in control at all. Far from it. And sometimes I get really low. Sometimes I really can’t cope with doing all the childcare. I really can’t cope with the person I’ve become.’

  I can’t quite take it in. Glancing at her now, I see she looks different. Like an ally, rather than an enemy.

  ‘Really? You feel like that too?’

  She nods.

  I blow my nose, suddenly feeling much stronger.

  ‘So what happened with Jack?’ Faith asks, gently. ‘You don’t have to tell me, but . . . it might help.’

  So I tell her all about Tom and Jack and what I said to Jessie Kay this morning on the radio, and she listens carefully and then tells me I’ve done the right thing.

  The relief of telling Faith makes me feel more solid. I want to hug her for being such a good friend.

  ‘Wow,’ I say, after my confession. ‘Well, if nothing else, I guess I’m glad you know now that I’m not like Camilla.’

  ‘Half the time, I want to kill that stupid cow,’ Faith says. ‘The way she stirs everything up. The way she keeps us all in a group. It’s not right. Why should having babies at the same time mean that we should have anything else in common?’

  And we pick apart everything we hate about the Vipers. And it cheers me up no end.

  ‘You know, Faith, I’ve just been wondering,’ I say. ‘Is there any way we could share some childcare? Because I’m hoping to go back to work.’

  ‘Great idea,’ she says. ‘I was thinking of doing the same thing. I think work will keep me sane. Looking after Amalie full time is sending me over the edge.’

  For the first time in days, as we discuss how we might make it work, I feel almost normal.

  Then I see him.

  He’s walking into the playground and I watch him in slow motion as he comes in through the gate, and I’m on my feet and running.

  And Ben spots him too.

  And we both race towards him.

  Jack scoops Ben up and kisses him. Then he puts Ben down.

  Ben goes running back to Faith, who gives me a none-too-subtle thumbs up, before steering him over towards the slide.

  I look into Jack’s eyes and everything around us feels like it’s fading away. The other people, the sound of children screaming and laughing and crying – everything – until it’s just Jack and me. Face to face.

  My man . . .

  I think . . .

  Because I can’t tell if he really has come back to me. If that’s really what this is. All I know is that I feel like there’s a chink in the clouds and the sun is starting to poke through.

  ‘I heard what you said to Jessie Kay,’ he says.

  ‘You listened? I wasn’t sure if you would.’

  ‘Matt didn’t give me the choice. He locked me in my old room and told me to switch the radio on and why. He told me that if I didn’t, he was going to leave me there to rot.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Yes, and I believed him. You know how stubborn he can be.’ Jack catches something in my expression and blushes. ‘Almost as stubborn as me . . .’

  I don’t know what to say next. I said it all on Jessie Kay’s show, and Jack’s already heard all that. I just know what I want to hear. I want to hear that I’m forgiven. That I forgive him too. That this is over. That we can start again. Together.

  ‘Did Matt tell you where I went?’ he asks.

  ‘To Dartmoor. Fishing. How was it?’

  ‘Shit. All of it. The weather. The fishing. The campsite. All of it.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘It was shit because you weren’t there,’ he says, his eyes on mine, ‘and Ben wasn’t there. Just me. Stuck with all these stupid words and arguments spinning around my head. And you know what?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘After a while, I realised that none of it mattered, because no matter what words I tried to use to tell myself that what I’d done was right, I still felt wrong.’

  ‘You did?’

  ‘Because all I cared about, all I wanted to do, was to come back to you, and to be with you and Ben and never leave again.’ He sighs heavily, like he’s suddenly out of breath. ‘Only after ditching you in New York like that, I didn’t know if you’d want me back . . .’

  ‘Oh Jack.’

  ‘And all I want to know is whether you do really feel like you said on the radio?’

  ‘Oh Jack. Yes, yes,’ I say, throwing my arms around his neck. My face is wet with tears.

  He wraps me in his arms and lifts me off my feet, and then he smiles down at me. ‘In that case . . . watch this for snogging in public.’

  And what follows is the most gorgeous, sensuous kiss of my life. Indecent and majestic and wonderful, and it last for ages. Long enough so that, one by one, I hear all the women by the sandpit start clapping, and by the time we’ve finished, I look round and Faith is on her feet and applauding too.

  ‘Come on,’ Jack says, pulling away and grinning at me. His eyes are shining and his cheeks are pink. ‘I think it’s time we went home.’

  And Now For The Pastel-Tinted End Credits

  ‘You call this fun?’ I shout at Jack.

  ‘It’s going to be fun, believe me,’ he shouts back.

  ‘You don’t look like you’re having fun.’

  ‘I am. This is my fun face.’

  ‘It doesn’t look li
ke it. It looks like your “I’m about to puke” face.’

  ‘OK, so it’s a little bit scary. But it’s symbolic, what we’re about to do. That’s the point. We said we’d do more exciting things, and you can’t call this dull.’

  I feel a tap on my shoulder. ‘You ready, guys?’

  Jack takes hold of my hand.

  I look out of the airplane door. The land below is far, far away. I think of Ben down there, with H and Matt in the airfield base, where Jack and I did our training.

  ‘I love you,’ I tell Jack, kissing him and smiling. Our goggles clink with each other.

  ‘I love you, too, Mrs Rossiter.’

  ‘OK, after three.’

  ‘There’s one more thing,’ I tell him, as we shuffle to the edge of the open hatch. ‘Something I’ve got to tell you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m late.’

  ‘What do you mean late?’

  ‘You know, late late. I didn’t want to mention it before, but I think I might be –’

  But suddenly we’re holding hands and free-falling, watching each other fly. Together. Into the great unknown.

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  Epub ISBN: 9781446493953

  Version 1.0

  Published by Arrow Books 2007

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  Copyright © Josie Lloyd & Emlyn Rees 2007

  Josie Lloyd & Emlyn Rees have asserted their right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  First published in Great Britain in 2007 by William Heinemann

  Arrow Books

  The Random House Group Limited

  20 Vauxhall Bridge Road, London, SW1V 2SA

  www.randomhouse.co.uk

 

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