by Lacey London
My eyes land on Noah and I wonder if we could ever make our old lifestyle work with a small baby. Granted it wouldn’t be easy, but loads of people in our old apartment block had children and some of the best schools in the country are within commuting distance. As I approach our lavish character property, I find myself wondering if the grass really is greener on the other side…
You will only be truly content when you let go of what you think your life is supposed to look like and start enjoying it for what it is…
Chapter 21
Peeling open an eye, I stretch out my legs and let a huge yawn. It might only be early, but the sun is already streaming through the windows. In a bid to block it out, I haul the covers up over my head and roll over. It takes me a moment to realise that Oliver is lay next to me. Looking down at my watch, I am shocked to see that it is almost 9am.
‘Oliver!’ Shaking him firmly, I try to wake him up. ‘Come on! You’re going to be so late!’
Gently rousing, he sticks an arm out of the duvet and pulls me back inside. The warmth of his sleepy body washes over me and I fight the urge to fall back into a much needed sleep.
‘What’s going on?’ I try and fail to wiggle out of his vice like grip. ‘Why haven’t you gone to work?’
Rubbing his face slowly, he rolls me over to face him. ‘I took the day off.’
‘Oh…’ I scrunch up my nose in confusion. ‘Why?’
‘Seriously?’ A small smile plays on his lips as he talks. ‘You don’t remember what day it is?’
‘Friday?’ I respond slowly. ‘Or is it Saturday?’ I have been that tired lately I’m surprised that I even remember my own name, never mind what day it is.
Oliver stares at me for a moment before laughing nervously. ‘It’s our anniversary, remember?’
My heart almost stops as the word ‘anniversary’ hits me. Oh, God! With everything that has been going on I have totally forgotten our anniversary!
‘I forgot…’ Before I can stop it from happening, tears stream down my cheeks and once they start I am powerless to stop them. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Hey, don’t get upset.’ Oliver props himself up and pulls my head onto his shoulder. ‘It’s no big deal.’
‘It’s a huge deal!’ I manage through sobs. How could I possibly have forgotten that today is the anniversary of the day that we met?
Hearing Noah stir in this cot I try to compose myself. The last thing I want is to upset him too. Not wanting to embarrass myself any further, I dry my eyes on Oliver’s sleeve and attempt to fix a smile to my face.
‘That’s better.’ Planting a kiss on my cheek, he reaches under the bed and pulls out a card. ‘No more tears, because today is going to be great.’
I nod in response and take the card from him. ‘Now, you get dressed. I will take Noah and return with breakfast.’
Plucking up the baby, he flashes me a wink and disappears out of the room. For a while I sit in the bed and stare at the empty space next to me. Eventually I manage to pull myself together and turn over the card in my hands. As my fingers get ready to rip open the envelope, I suddenly have a change of heart and decide to save the card until later.
Pushing myself to my feet, I pad into the bathroom and splash water onto my face. The smell of sizzling bacon drifts up the stairs, encouraging me to get a move on. After a quick shower, I sit myself down at the dressing table and set to work on breathing some life into my face. Until recently I genuinely believed that I looked young for my age, but these sleepless nights have really taken their toll. My skin looks grey and tiny wrinkles have started to set up home beneath my eyes. It’s fair to say that the very expensive face cream Janie bought me for Christmas is not doing its job. Dabbing at my cheeks with my Beauty Blender, I flick on the radio in an attempt to cheer myself up.
As the room fills with the latest tracks of the summer, I find myself feeling a little better. So what if I forgot our anniversary? It’s hardly the most terrible crime in history, is it? Now that we also have a wedding anniversary to add to the birthdays and other memorable dates, it’s hard to keep track. Adding a final slick of pink to my lips, I zip up my cosmetic bag and head to the wardrobe. Not knowing what Oliver has planned for today makes choosing an outfit all the more difficult. Flipping through the rails of jeans, dresses and jumpers, I decide that wherever we are going it’s better to be over dressed than under dressed.
Settling on a floaty khaki dress, I add a simple pair of black flats and twist my wild curls into a bun at the nape of my neck. A quick spray of perfume completes my outfit as I smile back at my reflection.
‘Something smells good.’ Flashing Oliver a smile, I reach up and plant a kiss on his nose. ‘Do you want me to set the table?’
‘No need.’ Motioning behind me, I spin around to see Randy placing a selection of glasses and bowls on the table whilst Janie bounces Noah on her hip.
‘Oh.’ I say in surprise, making my way over to Janie and scooping up Noah. ‘Good morning.’
‘Morning!’ They reply in unison.
‘Does he need feeding?’ I ask, removing my hair from Noah’s grasp.
‘All done.’ Janie sighs, pointing to the empty bottle on the breakfast bar. ‘Although I do know another hungry boy who could do with feeding…’
Randy grumbles and rubs his stomach. I don’t even need to ask why he is complaining. The past few days, Randy has been at the golf club with Owen and I know very well just how particular Owen’s eating habits are. Lean, mean or green, that’s his motto. Randy on the other hand turns his nose up at anything that isn’t fried, dripping in sugar or served with a large helping of cheese.
‘Whose hungry?’ Oliver yells, appearing at the table with a mound of bacon. ‘I got bacon, eggs, pancakes…’
‘Where’s my egg white omelette?’ Janie demands, turning her nose up at the greasy treats.
‘It’s coming!’ Oliver laughs and returns into the kitchen for Janie’s special order.
Personally, I could never be a vegetarian. I would rather give up sex than bacon. Taking a seat at the table, I reach for a piece of toast only to have Janie slap my hand away in disgust.
‘Jeez, Clara! You can’t wait two minutes?’ Shooting me a death stare she shakes her head violently. ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’
Stifling a giggle, I wait until she looks away before snatching a piece and shoving the whole thing into my mouth. Janie might disapprove, but the truth is that I can’t wait. I’ve never had any patience and when bacon is involved, two minutes seems like a lifetime…
*
‘Can you tell me where we’re going yet?’ I ask in excitement as we
push Noah’s pram along the cobbled street. ‘I need to know!’
‘You’ll find out soon enough.’ Taking control of the pram, Oliver offers me his arm.
Soon after breakfast we packed up the car and waved goodbye to Oliver’s parents. The entire journey here I racked my brains for places where we could possibly be going. The fact that we have Noah with us has thrown me slightly. I mean, we couldn’t possibly be going to a posh restaurant with a baby, could we? I have a flashback to Churchwood and say a silent prayer that we aren’t going anywhere fancy. For a few moments we walk in silence, until finally coming to a stop outside a building that I don’t recognise.
‘Here?’ I ask, shading the sun from my eyes as I look up at building in front me.
Nodding in response, Oliver pushes open the door and waves me inside. ‘It’s an art gallery.’ He declares proudly, pointing to the sign above my head.
‘Oh…’ I reply, feeling a little puzzled. Neither Oliver or myself have ever shown an interest in the arts, so I am understandably surprised at his choice of venue.
‘It will be great, I promise.’ Smiling reassuringly, he wraps an arm around my shoulders. ‘There’s an exhibition here right now that comes highly recommended.’
‘Recommended by who?’ I ask, laughing nervously.
‘Owen. Come on, it’
s this way.’
Ignoring the nausea in my stomach at the mention of Owen, I tell myself to go with it and follow Oliver across the foyer. I shouldn’t be so ungrateful. Oliver has gone to the trouble of planning this for me, the least I can do is try to enjoy it. Joining the queue of immaculately presented people, I try to listen as a member of staff gushes over the strange looking sculpture in front of him.
‘The use of light is impeccable in this piece. The beautiful nature of the delicate colours is uniquely Mevabrox.’
Straining my head for a better look, I scrunch up my nose at the weird metal box. What the hell is it? I steal a glance at Oliver who appears to be listening intently. Mentally cursing myself for being so unappreciative of the arts, I try to pay attention. It appears that the metal box is some kind of wardrobe and instead of coat hangers, crisp pound notes hang from the railing.
‘This piece in particular can be translated in a thousand different ways. This piece will speak to each and every one of you.’ The long haired gentleman talking waves his arms around erratically. ‘Tell me. Tell me what this masterpiece means to you.’
A worryingly pale lady in front of us sighs dramatically and shakes her head. ‘The artist is obviously making reference to the poverty that we as a nation choose to ignore. It is telling me that our society transpires to nothing more than narcissism.’
The room bursts into a round of applause as the pasty lady holds a tissue beneath her eyes. Oh, please! Letting out a little snort, I clasp my hand over my mouth as the entire group spins around in disgust. Feeling my cheeks burn up, I look down at the ground and will it to swallow me up.
‘You!’ The tour guide announces loudly. ‘Share with the group what this exquisite Mevabrox is telling you.’
Oh, my God! Why? Why me?
‘Erm… well…’ I rack my brains furiously and try to think of something even slightly intelligent to say. ‘It’s telling me that… it’s telling me that I should go shopping?’
‘Shopping?’ He replies crudely.
‘Yes…’ I stammer, trying to keep my voice steady. ‘It’s telling me that it wants someone to go shopping and fill it will beautiful dresses, handbags and shoes. It’s telling me that it is unloved.’
To my surprise, another round of applause echoes around the room and I look at the host smugly.
‘See…’ I whisper to Oliver. ‘I can know art if I want to.’
He laughs and shakes his head at me as the host sashays off to the next masterpiece. What is wrong with these people? This is not my idea of fun. As Oliver seems to be more into it than I am, I choose to keep my opinions to myself. Biting my lip as Oliver stops to study a strange piece of string, which has randomly been adorned with paper clips and what appears to be a tangerine peel, I turn my attention to Noah.
Unsurprisingly, Noah looks as fed up as I do. With his hands curled up into little balls and a red flush to his cheeks, he looks exactly as I feel.
Spotting an opportunity to escape, I lean over to Oliver and point to the pram.
‘I think Noah wants feeding.’
‘Again?’ Oliver frowns and checks his watch. ‘Didn’t you just feed him before we left the house?’
‘Did I say feeding? I meant changing!’ Laughing guiltily, I grab the changing bag and motion for him to stay with the group. ‘I won’t be long.’
Excusing myself to tend to the baby, I breathe a sigh of relief as I make my way outside. If only everything was this easy to get out of…
*
Laughing happily, I clink my glass against Oliver’s and smile brightly. After the interesting art gallery tour earlier I didn’t have high hopes for the rest of the day, but Oliver has really pulled it out of the bag. Sat in a quaint Italian restaurant sipping an ice cold glass of prosecco, my faith in my husband’s idea of romance has been restored. For the past hour we have reminisced about the good old days. The days where we would stay in Oliver’s penthouse apartment for days on end without leaving the bed. The days where we would have cocktails after work and order pizza to our office. It really is astonishing to think just how much has changed for the both of us. I lock eyes with my husband and feel my heart expand as he smiles back at me.
‘I am so proud of you, Clara.’ Oliver reaches across the table and takes my free hand in his. ‘So very proud.’
‘Really?’ I ask. ‘Why?’
‘I’m proud of the woman that you’ve become. I didn’t think it was possible to love you any more than I did back then. Back when the only thing we had to worry about was each other.’ He laughs quietly and shakes his head. ‘Seeing you with Noah just completes me. You have given me everything that I have ever wanted and I can’t thank you enough.’
A lump forms in my throat and I try to flush it away with bubbles. Not wanting to respond in case I burst into tears in the middle of the restaurant, I blink rapidly and rock Noah in my arms.
‘I got you a little something…’ Placing a tiny box in front of me, Oliver plucks Noah from my arms and encourages me to open it.
Sniffling like a child with a cold, I take the black box and flip open the lid to reveal a beautiful channel set ring.
‘It’s an eternity ring.’ Oliver confirms. ‘As soon as I saw it I thought of you.’
My bottom lip begins to wobble and this time I am powerless to overcome it. Big, heavy tears spill down my cheeks, covering my dress in messy wet splodges.
‘Hey.’ Taking Noah and placing him into his pram, Oliver pulls his chair around so that we are sitting side by side. ‘What is it?’
I want to tell him that nothing is wrong and that I am just being emotional, but something inside me tells that I shouldn’t keep this to myself any longer.
‘Are you happy in Spring Oak, Oliver?’ I hold a napkin under my leaking eyes and thank my lucky stars that the restaurant is empty.
‘Of course I am happy.’ His face is suddenly creased with concern. ‘Why, aren’t you happy?’
Shaking my head in response I let out a huge sob. ‘No. No, I don’t think I am. This isn’t me. I don’t feel like I belong here.’
‘Of course you belong there. Where has this come from?’
I fiddle with the corner of my napkin and attempt to pull myself together. ‘I’m not meant for this kind of lifestyle, Oliver. I don’t fit in with the people here. I don’t care what kind of clothes the women on the lane wear or where they send their children to school. Things like that don’t matter to me.’
Scratching his beard thoughtfully, he lets out a sigh and nods in agreement. ‘I understand. Keeping up with the Joneses isn’t really my kind of thing either…’
‘It’s just not what I expected it be. I never imagined that I would miss the city so much.’ My voice breaks into dolphin likes wails and I clasp a hand to mouth. ‘Everything has gone wrong since we moved here. My best friend hates me, my neighbour is a prostitute and the women that I thought were my friends are a bunch of judgemental old witches…’
‘Prostitute?’ Understandably, Oliver stares at me in utter confusion. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
Once I regain the use of my tongue, I tell Oliver everything. Starting with the party at Francesca’s, I tell him about Lianna and Eve’s drunken behaviour. The drunken behaviour that led to Alice’s revelation about Eve’s notorious past. I tell him about my row with Li and wince as I confess the terrible things that we spat at each other. As I hear myself speak I realise that I sound like a crazy person, but everything I am saying is true. When I finally pause for breath, he looks down into his hands in silence before letting out a laugh.
‘What?’ I stare at him uncertainly, slightly worried by his reaction.
‘First off, it’s no secret that those women that are not your friends. You’re totally right. You don’t belong with women like that. I just can’t believe it took you so long to work them out.’
I have to give it to Oliver, he took a dislike to Gwen within minutes of meeting her. To be fair, she did criticise his tatto
o, ridicule his accent and turn her nose up at his offering of beef jerky before she even knew his name.
‘Why do you think Li hates you? I see her almost every day on my way home from work and she always asks how you are.’
‘Really?’ A rush of hope washes over me as I breathe a sigh of relief. ‘But we had a huge row. She hasn’t called me in a week…’
‘A week?’ He shrugs his shoulders and laughs quietly. ‘So what? People have disagreements all the time, it doesn’t mean they don’t love each other anymore.’
‘But we have never fallen out before. I mean, we have had our fair share of disagreements, but nothing like this. We both said some really awful things…’
‘Trust me, Clara. You have blown this all out of proportion and the whole Eve prostitute thing?’ Oliver’s brow furrows and a doubtful expression creeps onto his face. ‘Where the hell did that come from?’
I knew he wouldn’t believe that part. I didn’t at first. ‘Oliver, she really was a prostitute. That’s how she met Owen. Gwen told me all about it…’
‘Gwen?’ He interrupts. ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me? Eve wasn’t a prostitute, Clara. She was an escort.’
My jaw drops to floor. He knew? He knew all this time and didn’t tell me? ‘And the difference is?’ I ask through gritted teeth.
‘The difference is huge. One stands on a street corner wearing knee high boots and a tank top, the other accompanies lonely business men to gala dinners.’ Oliver runs a hand through his hair and indicates to the waiter that we will need another five minutes. ‘Owen talks about how he and Eve met all the time. It was just after his mother died. He said that Eve coming into his life changed him. She gave him a reason to live. Haven’t you ever talked to Eve about any of this?’