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

by Anna Mansell

  ‘Get up, take your shoes off, then say hello nicely, please,’ she instructs as she slips her own shoes off and heads straight through to the lounge.

  ‘If Mohammed can’t come to the spa treatment, let the spa treatment come to Mohammed,’ she says, placing the hamper beside Mum who is beaming at the sight of a full house.

  Which is more than can be said for Mitch.

  ‘What a lovely surprise!’ Mum pulls her in for a hug. It’s been a couple of hours since the tablets and though I can see she’s pleased to see Leanne, there’s a note of discomfort in her movement again. She’s fidgety. ‘I didn’t know you were coming,’ she chirrups.

  ‘Nope! None of you did. Well, I mentioned I might to Jem the other day, but we didn’t quite get around to finalising details, did we, chuck?’

  ‘Erm, no. Sorry about that.’

  ‘It’s fine. I just wanted to bring some nice bits for you. Hand and foot creams, candles, some nice smelly ones. Face masks, treatments, you know, just stuff to make you feel a bit pampered. And I thought it’d be nice for you to see Elsie, then Harley wanted to come and see you too… though I suspect that may be because he thinks he might get a chocolate biscuit out of it.’

  ‘Oh, he can always have chocolate biscuits from me. Mitch, pop us the kettle on, make Leanne a drink and bring out the biscuit tin, would you?’

  Mitch nods, catches my eye and summons me to the kitchen. Compliance kicks in.

  71

  ‘What the fuck is she doing here unannounced?’

  ‘I didn’t know she was coming, I promise,’ I say in a hissed whisper, pulling the kitchen door closed.

  ‘She said you’d talked about it, you must have known.’

  ‘I tried to put her off.’

  ‘Why put her off? What’s the matter? I mean, it wouldn’t have been a problem if we’d known in advance, would it? Like this though, just turning up, I feel like we’ve been sabotaged somehow.’

  ‘We haven’t been sabotaged.’ I can feel myself glare at him. ‘She just wanted to see Mum. It’s my fault, I knew she wanted to, I just couldn’t get myself organised, you know what I’m like.’ He looks at me coldly and I realise what I have to do if I want to keep the peace. ‘Look, I’m sorry.’

  ‘She’s really overbearing too, what’s with all the spa stuff?’

  ‘She’ll want to pamper Mum a bit, that’s all.’

  ‘Is it appropriate? Has she checked if any of those products are okay to use on a woman dying of cancer?’ I smart at his description of Mum as he checks in the biscuit tin. ‘And there’s no bloody biscuits in here. What the hell are we going to give Harley now?’

  ‘It’s okay, he’ll manage without.’

  ‘Of course he won’t, kids don’t manage. I’ll have to go and get some, won’t I? That’s how this works. It’s fine.’ He grabs Mum’s card from the windowsill. ‘Anything else she might want whilst she’s here?’

  ‘No. Look, you really don’t have to go.’

  ‘Of course I do.’

  ‘Take my card then, not Mum’s.’ But he’s opened the door and gone into the lounge to be convivial. He makes Mum laugh, he lifts Harley up in the air until his hair skims the ceiling, much to his delight, then he darts out the front door and into his car, tearing off down the street.

  I go back to the kitchen to breathe for a moment.

  ‘Crikey, who’s driving it like they stole it?’ says Leanne, her eyebrows on high alert. ‘Is he alright?’ she asks, as I make the drinks.

  I find something really interesting in the bottom of the tea bag tin. ‘Oh, yeah, he’s fine. He’s just realised we’ve no biscuits so he’s gone to get some,’ I say in a sing-song voice.

  ‘Is that all? He came out of the kitchen looking furious ’til he saw me.’

  ‘Did he?’ I turn to face her.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she asks, instantly, flatly, like her antenna is tuned into something’s up.

  I swallow, spinning back round to finish what I’d started with the drinks. ‘No, no. It’s nothing. No, we just had words, that’s all. You know what it can be like. My fault really, I should have sorted stuff out with you to come over and then I could have run it by him.’

  ‘Run it by him?’

  ‘Well, you know, tell him. I don’t know.’

  ‘You know this is your house, don’t you?’

  ‘Mum’s.’

  ‘Well, yes, but you’re living here too, so it’s up to you and her who you have over to visit.’

  ‘Of course it is. He wasn’t… it’s not…’ but I run out of steam because she’s watching my every move and I can’t keep secrets from her.

  ‘Tell me what’s wrong, Jem?’ she says, leaning against the worktop. I turn to face her, eyes full of tears, heart clattering. ‘Jem? This last week or two, you’ve gone weird. You’re distant. What’s the matter?’

  ‘I don’t know. I mean, I can’t explain it. Something’s not right and I don’t know exactly what but it’s not right and I don’t think I can do anything about it.’

  ‘What do you mean? Something’s not right. Why can’t you do anything about it? Jem, what’s going on?’

  ‘Look, I can’t talk now, okay. He’ll be back soon. But things have shifted, things aren’t quite right. Something happened the other day when I took Mum out, before you called when I was in the car with him.’

  ‘I knew it. I could tell by your voice.’

  ‘I couldn’t say anything ’cause he was there.’

  ‘What happened?’

  I drop into the stool by the breakfast bar. The bar creaks as I rest my elbows on it. ‘Some woman stopped me in the car park, told me she was his ex.’

  ‘Who? I thought she lived away, wherever it was he was before he came back.’

  ‘That was Abby. No. This woman was called Lisa.’

  ‘Who’s Lisa?’

  ‘That’s what he said.’

  ‘Okay…?’ Leanne looks as confused as I feel.

  ‘She said a few things, and at first I thought she was talking nonsense, then I wondered about it. Then he told me he’d no idea who she was and I just figured she’d got the wrong person or something but…’

  ‘But?’

  I study my fingers. There’s so much to say, so many examples I could give that I don’t know where to start.

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘She said he plays games. That he manipulates. That he makes you think you’ve done something wrong when you haven’t.’

  ‘What? Gaslighting?’ She pulls out the stool beside me. ‘Do you think he has been?’

  ‘I…’ I pause because if I say it out loud it makes it true but maybe I need to. ‘I’m not sure. I didn’t see it that way at all, I didn’t even know it was a thing really. I can’t believe that’s what he’s doing, but…’ I pause. Mum’s chatting to Harley in the lounge. A car goes past and I hold my breath in case it’s him, relief washing over me when I hear it drive by. Relief. That’s not good, is it? Leanne waits for a moment, presumably waiting until I’ve worked out what I’m trying to say. Eventually, I manage it. ‘Mitch texted Ben last night.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Photos of the letter.’

  ‘No… no! Why? Why would he do that?’

  ‘He found it, was furious I still had it. Sent it on to him out of spite, I think. I don’t know. I only realised this morning and I’ve not wanted to ask because I don’t want an argument.’

  ‘But you have to ask him! I mean, how dare he?’

  I pause again, another car. When I know it’s safe, I carry on. ‘He has this way of spinning things around on me. I don’t know, I hadn’t noticed it before but when I think back over this last month or so, I can see it now. And this has all happened so quickly, him and I, we’ve sort of been catapulted into partner status when we should still be in the honeymoon stage, but I’ve just been so grateful to have his support. So grateful to get another chance at love, even. After Ben, I thought I’d be single forever, I n
ever thought anyone would be interested in me. And it’s so hard, with Mum.’ I feel my bottom lip go, so stop, take a breath, I’ve got to keep it together.

  ‘Oh, love.’

  ‘He keeps saying he’s here to help me and Mum. He keeps doing all these really lovely things for us, for her, but it’s too much. Too soon. And now he’s living here, he’s moved us into Mum’s room.’ Leanne’s eyes widen, so I know it’s not just me that thinks it’s weird. ‘I can’t fall out with him, it’d break Mum’s heart. She wants to see me happy.’

  ‘Are you happy? I mean… you don’t look happy to me. In fact, Jem, you look frightened. You shouldn’t be frightened of him.’

  ‘I’m not frightened, frightened. I mean, he’s not aggressive, he isn’t violent or anything, he’s just a bit… I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it.’

  ‘Controlling?’

  ‘Maybe. Possibly. I guess I’ve been so distracted with Mum, I just didn’t see what was happening and now I feel like I’m questioning everything. I mean, yes, maybe he is controlling.’ I bury my head in my hands. ‘I didn’t see it, Leanne. Why didn’t I see it? And Mum loves having him around, she doesn’t need the stress of seeing me mess things up again.’

  ‘How is that you messing things up again? It’s not your fault! Jem, you’ve got two modes of operation: bumble along with things you’re not happy with because you don’t want the confrontation, or panic about how happy you are and do everything in your power to ruin it.’ She can tell this stings. ‘I’m sorry, Jem, but you do. And you have tried so hard to sort yourself out, I know you have. You’ve had so much on your plate.’

  ‘I didn’t think things could get worse.’

  ‘And they don’t have to.’

  ‘They already have.’

  ‘So, turn it around, Jem. Take control. Christ.’ She half smiles at me, caring. ‘You’re good enough at fucking things up on your own, mate, don’t let some bloke do it better.’

  I move away from her. I make drinks. I check out the side window to make sure he’s not back yet.

  ‘Jem, you have had a rough time, not just recently, but in general. All those things you put in the letter, they weren’t your fault.’

  I look at her.

  ‘They weren’t. I mean, sure, you have to take a bit of responsibility for some of your choices about some stuff, but we all mess up. We’re all a bi-product of what we’ve lived through. We’re all a mess. All of us. It doesn’t mean that guy had a right to force himself on you.’

  ‘He didn’t.’

  ‘He made you feel like you couldn’t say no. That’s not okay, Jem. We’re all trying our best and often getting it wrong…’ When I turn to face her, Leanne’s eyes glisten. ‘The baby, Jem, that wasn’t your fault either.’ My bottom lip goes and I bite down on it hard because now is not the time to lose it, but we never talk about it. Not since I came back from Dublin and she looked after me until I was well enough to go back to work a few days later. She reaches out for my arm, lowering her voice. ‘For God’s sake, Jem. You blame yourself for everything and whilst I’m absolutely not saying you’re perfect – like, the tea you made me the other day, it had way too much milk in it.’ I cry laugh and she squeezes my arm. ‘But this, him behaving that way, it’s not okay. It’s not your fault.’

  And I know she’s right but before I can ask her what the hell I do about it, he pulls back up on the drive.

  She wipes her eyes and rearranges her face. ‘Get out. Whilst you can. Before he hurts you… any more than he already has. And whatever you need me to do to help you sort this, I will do. I’m here for you. You do not have to do this alone. Oh, look, chocolate biscuits,’ she says, expertly shifting her tone as Mitch comes into the kitchen with multiple packs and a look of suspicion. ‘You really didn’t have to go out especially for them.’

  ‘It was no bother. Honestly. Now you go through and sit with Val. Jem and I will bring the drinks through.’

  Leanne does as she’s told and I smile sweetly, giving him a kiss so he knows everything is fine.

  Everything is fine.

  Everything is fine.

  72

  I’m up in Mum’s room, Mitch is in the bathroom. I look over the message from Ben’s phone, though it’s clearly not from him. Is that his girlfriend? Did he ask her to send it? Has she read it and told him everything? What is he thinking? How does he feel?

  I never meant to hurt him.

  I look over at the vodka Mitch poured me on the side. He didn’t even ask if I wanted one, just handed it to me. ‘Your regular evening lubrication,’ he’d said.

  Why am I still drinking? With everything it did. With everything I’ve lost.

  Mitch switches on the shower, I hear him sing to himself as he washes. Leanne went hours ago and we’ve spent the rest of this evening just chatting to Mum, before he lifted her onto her bed, tucking her in, chatting with her and making her laugh. And it’s so good to hear her laugh, especially as she’s been in pain all day, so it turns out. She didn’t want to say anything when Leanne turned up because she was so chuffed to see her, but as the evening progressed, it became increasingly clear she wasn’t comfortable. I wanted to call the doctors, get them to come out, but she wouldn’t have it and Mitch told me not to force it, to listen to what Mum wanted. I only agreed to back off on the basis that I call them in the morning if she’s no better. The shower turns off and the bathroom door unlocks.

  ‘We should get a new shower fitted, it’s not very good is it, that one?’ He ruffles his hair dry with a towel, padding through the bedroom, drawing the curtains closed. ‘I’ll give my plumber a call tomorrow.’

  ‘You’ve got a plumber?’ I say, aiming, badly, for nonchalance.

  He turns to face me, dropping his wet towel on the little purple wicker basket that has Mum’s old doll and teddy on. ‘Just someone who did some work on my mum’s house before I put it on the market.’

  ‘Oh!’ I get up, moving his towel, placing it on the radiator. We do a sort of dance as I try to avoid connecting with him in the process. ‘I didn’t realise you’d put it on the market.’ I scurry back to bed, reaching for my vodka before deciding against it.

  Mitch laughs. He comes to sit beside me, just a towel wrapped around his waist. The sight no longer excites me. Now, I feel trapped, uncertain, nervous of something kicking off. ‘I did tell you this the other day,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘Blundells came down and whacked a board up. They don’t think it’ll take long to sell. Eeeh, what am I going to do with you, Jem Whitfield?’ He pulls me to him, studying my face. ‘You want a top up?’ he asks. ‘I was going to pour one for me.’

  ‘No, thanks. I don’t. I don’t fancy it, actually, you can have that one.’

  ‘What? You don’t fancy a drink of alcohol, Christ.’ He reaches for my forehead. ‘Are you ill?’

  ‘I just don’t fancy it, alright. In fact, I was thinking I might take a break for a while.’

  ‘A break? Ha-ha, yeah, alright then.’ He has the sort of smile on his face that suggests he doesn’t think I’m capable of it.

  ‘What? You don’t think I can?’ I look up sharply after I’ve said it, waiting for his reaction.

  ‘What’s up with you? Why so tetchy?’

  ‘I’m not tetchy.’

  ‘You are. You have been since Leanne turned up earlier. Maybe hanging around with her isn’t good for you. Does she even make you happy? Has she said something because you’ve been weird for a few days now? What’s going on? Maybe I should get you more vodka. Loosen you up a bit.’

  ‘I don’t need loosening up.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ He reaches across me, taking a sip of my vodka before handing it to me. ‘Go on, have a sip. Chill out. I hate it when you’re distant.’

  Leanne’s words ring round my head. Get out. Whilst you still can. And I want to. But I don’t know where to start. Maybe I should try the truth, maybe that’s the place. When I have the truth, I can justify my asking him to leave. It’d b
e weird to ask him now, out of the blue. I’d have to justify it. He’d cause a scene. Mum would be worried, stressed even. I don’t know how to do this. Maybe I should wait. Focus on Mum… I take the vodka glass from him, draining it in one go.

  ‘That’s better,’ he says, reaching down to a bag on his side of the bed. ‘Good job I’ve got this, eh? Here, give me your glass.’

  He fills it with neat vodka and I knock it back again. Wincing.

  ‘Christ, more?’

  Which is when I realise he’s been enabling this for weeks. I told him I didn’t want to drink when Mum was so poorly and every night we have. Every night we sink a bottle or two of wine, we chase it with vodka or whisky. He always seems to have some in, he’s always got a drink. It must make it easier for him if I do too. He pours one for him, knocking it back, before pouring another for me, passing it to me, leaning in to kiss me as I take the glass. I turn to offer him my cheek. ‘Who was Lisa?’ I ask, before I’ve even realised I was going to.

  His face shifts, he’s ice cool. ‘I’ve told you there was no Lisa.’

  ‘I know that’s what you said.’ I sink my drink again. Wiping my mouth and putting the glass on the side. Alcohol seeps into my legs and chest, I’m detached. Now I’ve got the courage, I need to hear what he has to say. And remember it. Every last detail. I lean into him, his breath is heavy and alcoholic.

  ‘I love you, Mitch.’ I take his hand. Threading our fingers together. ‘I want us to be together. But I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me and I need to know. For us to have a future together,’ I say, leaning into him despite everything in my body screaming to run away. ‘You know my darkest moments, you’ve read the letter, you know the truth and yet you’re still here. I want to be that person for you. I want to know your truth. I want you to feel you can tell me anything, without fear, I’m not going anywhere.’ I drop a butterfly kiss on his lips and my stomach thuds to my feet. ‘We need to be honest with each other. We need to open up. I think you’re not telling me something and I want you to know it doesn’t have to be that way. You can tell me anything.’