The Man I Loved Before: A completely gripping and heart-wrenching page turner

by Anna Mansell

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah, I mean, he knows that’s not the case, obviously. It’s just that, with time being so pressured these last few days, when I have wanted to call you, it’s been the first time Mitch and I have had a moment and I didn’t want to upset him. He’s done so much for Mum and me these last few days.’

  ‘Which is lovely, that’s great that you have the support. But he doesn’t have to make you feel bad for talking to me.’

  ‘No! He’s not. It’s me making me feel bad. I just, I’m so tired right now. So confused by everything. I suppose you were the person I thought I didn’t have to please.’

  ‘You don’t have to please anyone at the moment, chuck. You just have to be okay for you and your mum.’

  Elsie murmurs so I move her to the other side, shaking my dead arm into life. ‘I know, I do know. It’s just hard…’

  We sit in silence. Leanne gazes out of the window. ‘What’s up?’ I ask her, eventually.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You’re a rubbish liar.’

  ‘No, it’s nothing. I’m just… I’m worried about you, that’s all. I can’t imagine how awful this is for you. I wish I could do more to help. I mean… are you sure you’re getting the support you need from Mitch?’

  I pull back. ‘Of course, why wouldn’t I be?’

  ‘Well, like you say, he’s still processing his own stuff. It must be hard, he might not always be able to get it right.’

  ‘He’s got it right every time so far…’ I try not to think about the other night and our falling out.

  ‘Good. So he should.’ I stare at her, she’s not saying something. ‘So what can I do, then?’

  She says it in a weird way, like I don’t need her or something. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, if Mitch has got things covered, what do you need from me?’

  ‘Baby cuddles with this one. Patience. No grief over my lack of contact. Love me despite everything that I am.’

  ‘Of course I love you despite everything you are. Somebody’s bloody well got to.’ She squeezes my hand and I blink back any tears that threaten again because there’s no use crying over veiled sentimentality now and, besides, something’s shifted between us. It’s odd. ‘Do you want food? Let me cook something for you. I bet you’ve not eaten properly for days.’

  ‘I have, it’s fine,’ I lie, because despite all the cooking he’s done for Mum, Mitch and I have mostly eaten crisps washed down with copious amounts of alcohol because it seems that’s the only way either of us can get any sleep at the moment. Not that I tell Leanne this, she wouldn’t understand. ‘I have to get back anyway, I was only popping by to update you. Mitch wanted to pop out before he cooks tonight and I don’t want to leave Mum on her own.’ That bit is true. He said he’d cook for us all for a change.

  ‘Okay then, maybe this weekend. Come over Sunday, let me do a roast.’

  ‘I don’t know what we’re doing.’

  ‘So you come. On your own.’

  Mitch would love that at the moment. Can I just pop out whilst you look after my mum so Leanne can feed and water me? ‘I’d love to, really, but I don’t know what’s going to be happening. With Mum, I mean. I feel like I can’t plan ahead.’

  ‘Well, maybe we could come to you. She can have a cuddle with Elsie. Harley can bring his joke book, she’d like that, wouldn’t she?’

  ‘She gets tired so easily.’

  ‘It’s fine, we don’t have to stay long.’

  ‘I guess…’ My phone dings with a text from Mitch asking me when I’ll be back. ‘Hang on.’ She watches as I tap out a five minutes to him. ‘Look, let me call you. See how she’s doing. We’ll sort something, play it by ear. Is that okay?’

  ‘Of course it’s okay. Just…’

  She stops talking as I stand. ‘What?’

  ‘Stay in touch, yeah? Don’t let Mitch persuade you that you don’t need me.’

  ‘He wouldn’t! For God sake’s, Leanne, he couldn’t, you’re my best friend!’ There’s a spike of something between us. Something I’ve never felt with her before. A disconnect. ‘I’m sorry. Just bear with me. It’s weird, I feel weird. Things are happening so fast.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘I’m sorry it’s not a longer visit.’

  ‘Hey! It’s fine,’ she says, strangely. Then adds, ‘I’m just glad you’re okay and haven’t shagged yourself into a stupor.’ She half smiles at me but I feel like she’s studying me too, judging.

  ‘Chance would be a fine thing.’ I hand Elsie back over to her. ‘I’ll let myself out, okay. You stay there. She’s asleep, get Diagnosis: Murder on.’

  ‘I might. Or I might just sleep too.’

  ‘Sounds bloody lovely. Hey, thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what’s been going on until now. It’s just really hard. I feel a bit pulled all over.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. Look, just remember I’m here, okay. Whenever you need me. Yes?’

  ‘Yes.’ I give her a kiss, then sneak out so as not to wake Elsie. As I climb into my car, she’s at the window, waving. Something’s changed. And I don’t know if it’s me or her or both of us.

  60

  ‘I don’t know why you don’t just jack in all your work at the moment,’ says Mitch as he places a glass of wine beside my laptop. ‘An old client of mine has asked me to pick up some work for him, they’ve got some analysis they need doing. I mean, obviously I don’t need the money at the moment, but it can go into a pot for us and it’s not like your work is paying enough to worry about, is it?’

  ‘I know, and I hate it, but I feel bad. And I really need the money, however little it is. I wiped my savings out with The George—’

  ‘Look. I’m not struggling for cash, am I? Mum left me plenty and I’ve got work coming in. I said I’d pay you back and I will! We’ve just been a little bit distracted with more important stuff, haven’t we?’

  ‘Oh, I know, I wasn’t chasing it. I was just saying, sorry. It’s just that my phone bill’s supposed to have come out too, I’m bound to be overdrawn but I daren’t look.’

  ‘A healthy attitude towards money.’ He sits on my bed, back resting up against the wall, feet and most of his legs dangling off.

  ‘You’d think I’d have learned with the bankruptcy. I just don’t think I can cope with it all at the moment. Lack of money on top of Mum stuff, it’s too much.’

  ‘Of course it is. And anyway, if they cut you off, it doesn’t matter, you’ve got your new phone.’

  ‘I have.’ I stroke his leg as a thank you. I tick the final sheet clear, packing them back into the envelope to give back to my client. Job done. I’m thirty pounds up. ‘Though, I’d like to at least be grown up enough to manage my own phone bill once a month.’

  ‘Wow. Thanks.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘What do you mean, nothing?’

  ‘Well, it just sounds a bit ungrateful, that’s all. I tried to do the right thing with your phone, I was just trying to help. Your old one wasn’t working properly anyway, was it? So why does it matter?’

  I shift my knee to touch his and he moves away. ‘It wasn’t, no, but it matters because it’s my independence. It’s the only bill I have and I just want to try and keep on top of it. Everyone has that number too, you know?’

  ‘Everyone? Who is everyone? The only people that ever call you are your mum, me or Leanne.’

  ‘Well, yeah, but… look, never mind. Forget I said anything. I’m sorry, I was just… it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry. It’s money stuff, it always stresses me out.’ He sips at his wine, face stony. I move beside him, leaning in against his hips. ‘Hey, sorry. Forgive me?’

  He eyes me suspiciously before saying, ‘I always do.’

  We sip at our wine; the house is quiet. Mum reluctantly decided to sleep downstairs tonight, something about not wanting Mitch to carry her up the stairs again. I think she’s feeling weak and she’ll hate that. She’s not relied on a bloke
since Dad left and having to do that now must be conflicting for her.

  ‘So look, I was thinking—’ he says.

  ‘Dangerous.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ The stony look returns.

  ‘Nothing! Sorry, I was just joking. Go on.’ There’s a pause and I hope he carries on because I don’t want to fall out. I’m too tired. I’m too stressed. I’m too everything, really. Which won’t be helping either of us. ‘Sorry, go on.’

  ‘I was thinking that it seems stupid, me and you squashed up in this room, trying to fit into this tiny bed of yours.’

  ‘I know. It is a squeeze. You can go home at any point, babe. I would totally understand. Things have levelled out a bit here, with Mum. I can call you if I need anything. And your neighbour’s probably had enough of dog sitting by now.’

  ‘It’s fine, she always used to walk him for Mum anyway. And I like being here with you.’

  ‘And I like having you here.’

  ‘So, why don’t we move into your mum’s room? Now that she’s not going to be using it.’

  I stop mid sip of wine. ‘What?’

  ‘Well, it seems stupid, that big room with nobody in it. This tiny room with two fully-grown grown-ups in it.’

  ‘But, that’s Mum’s room.’

  ‘Yes, but she’s not going to be using it again, is she? She won’t mind, she knows we’re a bit cramped in here. She even said it today.’

  ‘Yes, but she was trying to give you permission to go home, not move into her bedroom.’

  ‘Permission to go home? Since when do I need permission?’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  I lose words. I mean, on a practical level, I get why he’d suggest it, but emotionally? I’m not ready to move into Mum’s room, she’s not really ready to have moved out. Given half a chance she’d be back in there.

  ‘Who’s to say she won’t ever need it back? She might get her strength back up. She’s eating better, the doctors said that would help.’

  He takes my hand. ‘Jem, your mum’s not going to get better.’

  Breath leaves my chest because I know this, but I don’t always need people to be so quick to remind me. ‘I know, I mean I know that, but…’ My bottom lip starts to wobble which is a bloody irritation because if I’m upset I can’t argue this rationally, and I really want to because it’s not right. Moving into Mum’s room is so off the mark, I can’t even… ‘We’re not moving into her room.’ I pick up my phone, (my phone!) and check emails. ‘Damn!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘My phone bill didn’t come out. There wasn’t enough in the bank. The George wiped me out.’

  ‘For God’s sake, Jem, I said I’d pay you back.’

  ‘I know you did! But you haven’t yet, and so I can’t pay my phone bill.’ His whole body turns stony this time. ‘It’s fine.’ It’s not. ‘I’m just saying, I wasn’t having a go.’ I sort of was.

  ‘Give it here.’

  ‘What?’

  He rummages in his pocket, the force of his movement spilling wine on my Forever Friends bedding. ‘Careful!’ I jump up to grab a towel, rubbing at the duvet. Fifteen-year-old me is furious. In fact, so is thirty-eight-year-old me.

  ‘Give me your phone. The payment details. I’ll pay the bloody bill.’

  ‘I don’t want you to.’

  ‘So, what? You’d rather get cut off, would you? How would your clients contact you then, eh? You’re being stupid. Just let me pay the bill.’ He grabs the phone off me, my heart is racing, the sheet looks stained. He taps away at his own phone, a credit card resting on his knee. ‘There. Done. Paid for. Happy now?’

  ‘I didn’t want you to—’

  ‘Look, I get it. I owe you money, you couldn’t pay your bill. I mean, we don’t have to talk about the wasted money on theatre tickets, or the nice meals out, or the intention behind going away, do we? Let’s just focus on the fact that you had to pay money out you didn’t have because, for some clerical error reason, I couldn’t manage it. If you’d not been in such a rush, I would have sorted it with another card.’

  I stand up, heart now beating out of my chest because I don’t know what the hell has got into him but I’m not okay with it. ‘Mum was in hospital, how much of a rush did you imagine I’d want to be in?’ He rolls his eyes. ‘What the fu— tell you what, you sleep in here. Stretch out as much as you like. I’ll be downstairs on the sofa.’

  ‘Careful not to do anything your mum wouldn’t approve of!’

  My mouth opens, I’m stunned. I grab my phone from him, and give him a final, disbelieving look, before shutting the bedroom door behind me as firmly but quietly as I bloody well can.

  Downstairs, I creep past Mum to the kitchen, flicking the kettle on. The whisky bottle from yesterday is almost empty. Spitefully, I swig the last of it, wincing at the peaty taste. Whisky was never my drink. I survey a collection of empty and full bottles of wine on the side, noticing that they’re always one or the other, there’s never a bottle with so much as a drop left in it. I grab a full one, twist open the lid and chug a good quarter of the bottle in one go. It feels good.

  61

  It’s four in the morning when I wake. I know this because there’s a digital green glow emanating from the video recorder. I shiver, pulling one of Mum’s throws over me, clutching it into my chest. I rub my eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness so I can locate my phone, distract myself from this tightness in my chest, the knot in my stomach, until I fall back to sleep. There’s a warm halo glow coming from the dining room, is Mum awake?

  I wrap the throw around me and tiptoe across the lounge to the dining room door. Mum’s face is lit by a torch focused on her book. ‘Mum?’ I say, gently so as not to startle her.

  ‘Jem, love? What are you doing up?’

  ‘I was just… I couldn’t sleep. What are you doing?’

  ‘Same. Thought I’d try and finish this book in case they don’t have that library in heaven.’ She smiles, but it’s not meant. It doesn’t reach her gently lit eyes. It falls from her mouth too quickly. ‘Come here, talk to me.’

  I clamber on the daybed beside her, moving a cushion to wedge behind my back, feet tucked under her duvet. ‘Is it comfy?’

  ‘Not as comfy as my own bed.’

  ‘I can try and get you back up there, if you like. Or wake Mitch, he’ll carry you up.’

  ‘No, no. It’s fine. I think the energy of holding myself small for him to lift me, that’s as exhausting as trying to climb the stairs myself.’

  ‘You know you don’t weigh anything any more, it’s really no trouble for him.’

  ‘I’m sure. Hey, what I wouldn’t have given to be this thin a few years back.’

  ‘Mum.’

  ‘Oh, I know. I’m just kidding.’ She pauses. ‘It’s getting harder and harder to find the humour in all of this, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is.’

  She puts her torch face up on the table beside her. A shaft of light hits the ceiling and I stare at it.

  ‘What were you two having words about before?’

  I snap to look at her. ‘What?’

  ‘I could hear you, not what you were saying, just, words, tone. It didn’t sound like the chat of a happy new couple.’

  Her duvet is warm, I pull it up a bit further, finding her bony bum with my toes. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Nothing specific. It was my fault really, I missed paying my phone bill and took it out on him.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah. Stupid, isn’t it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. These last few days, I’ve just been so short-tempered with him. So… snippy. And he’s doing so much for us. He’s so thoughtful, I don’t know what’s up with me. It’s like I’m repeating history, pushing him away all of a sudden. It’s what I do, isn’t it?’

  ‘But I thought you really liked him. You said this was different.’

  ‘It is, in so many ways it is, and yet, somehow, I don’t know. He told me he loved me the other day.’
I neglect telling her I reciprocated.

  ‘Ah. So you’re panicking.’

  ‘I don’t know, maybe.’

  ‘You know what I think about love, don’t you?’

  ‘I do. And I’m trying not to be afraid, but how do you stop it? It just feels so…’ My first instinct is to say wrong, but that’s so unfair on Mitch I stop myself. ‘How do I get past this, Mum? This need to run away all the time.’

  ‘I don’t know, love. Not really. All I can say is that every time you run away, things bite you on the bum. I wonder if life keeps trying to teach you a lesson sometimes, and until you hear it, the lessons will get bigger and louder.’

  ‘I can’t keep making mistakes.’

  She reaches out for my hand. Her fingers are like the bone Hansel hands out for the witch to kid her into thinking he’s not gained weight from all her force-feeding. ‘You know, Jem, I think you’re pretty bloody perfect.’

  ‘Are you drunk again?’

  ‘Not me. That’s your zone, that one. Don’t think I don’t notice how much you sink. That’s why you’re awake now, I’ll bet.’

  ‘Mum. I don’t need lectures on alcohol.’

  ‘I’m not giving you a lecture on alcohol… though I do sometimes wonder if I should. I am giving you a stern talking-to about you though, about what you think of you. And how you need to start living and loving and you’d better do it quickly because I can tell you this for nothing, my sweet, life is bloody short.’ That last bit makes her hiccup in her breath because she’s trying to be strong for me, but I can hear in her voice that she’s not feeling it. ‘Give him a chance. Let him love you. He may not be the one, The One, but he is your one, for now, and he’s trying. Feel the fear and love him anyway.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Be you. Be strong. Be everything I love you for. But be open too. If there is one thing I want for you in this life, whether it’s now, or after I’ve gone, it’s for you to be totally and unequivocally happy with yourself and your life and your choices. I don’t want you to hide any more. I don’t want you to try to forget or numb pain. I don’t want you to think you’re unlovable. I don’t want you to push and kick and scream when the chance of happiness presents itself. You have every right to be as happy as the next person and you owe it to yourself to embrace that.’