“He won’t let me in.” Sharni gestured with her head at Daniel who was indeed blocking the door.
“You heard Helen, the twins are sleeping.” Daniel was belligerent.
“This is Helen’s flat, not yours. What are you doing here anyway, child killer?”
Helen could see Daniel preparing to annihilate Sharni, and quickly stepped between them.
“Enough! Daniel, I think you should leave. Sharni, the twins are sleeping, did you need something?”
“You left this.” She handed over Helen’s purse, her face sulky.
“Thank you. Sorry darling, I’ll give you a call. Please,” she added, as Sharni hesitated.
Reluctantly Sharni turned and left, throwing another dark look at Daniel.
Holding up her hand to stem any further discussion, Helen stood holding the door.
“Please leave, my head is pounding and I need to rest while the twins are asleep.”
“I could mind them for you.”
“No!” Her voice rang around the small hallway. “No.” She repeated more quietly. “I just need to be alone. Just go. Please.”
Daniel stood with his arms hanging loosely at his sides, undecided. Then he shrugged and went out.
Helen realised she was shaking. Heading back into the lounge, she sat on the sofa, head in hands. Marcio, why aren’t you here when I need you?
She needed to hold him, reaffirm her feelings for him in light of Daniel’s declaration. But she had no idea where he was. Plugging in her phone she tried to call him, but his phone was switched off.
Trying not to read anything into the unusual circumstance, Helen carefully carried the moses baskets into the bedroom before collapsing fully-dressed onto the bed.
Chapter Sixteen
Daniel began to haunt Helen, both in the flesh and in her dreams. In the following week he came around unannounced several times, each visit on the pretence of bringing something for the babies, or because he was “in the neighbourhood.” He didn’t repeat his declaration of love, but he was ceaselessly attentive to her and the twins. It was unnerving.
As if dealing with a difficult toddler, Helen decided to humour him as much as possible, without offering any encouragement. Any initial feelings she had on seeing him again soon evaporated as his continual presence began to chafe her already raw nerves.
She spent her nights lying awake trying to understand what was behind his sudden attention. Daniel never did anything without having a plan.
After his third visit, Helen wondered if she should tell Marcio. It was clear he suspected something, although they spoke so rarely it was easy to avoid mentioning Daniel’s shadow-like behaviour.
Looking at Marcio’s sleeping form in the dark, Helen wondered how they had gone from the first flush of romance to old married couple so quickly. Except they weren’t married of course. She couldn’t imagine Marcio wanting to marry anyone, after being jilted, least of all her.
I’m damaged goods, I’m battered and bruised, emotionally wrecked and physically hideous. Whatever reason Daniel has for visiting or Marcio has for staying, it can’t be because of me.
Some shivering instinct told her it was Daniel as soon as the doorbell rang. It was the fourth time that week, and each time he seemed to appear not long after Marcio left for his next assignment. It began to dawn on Helen that Daniel was timing his visits deliberately, to ensure she was alone in the apartment.
Tired of humouring him, Helen was confrontational as soon as she opened the door. With James on one hip, she glared at him, door still in hand.
“What now?”
“I was just passing.”
“Rubbish. That excuse is wearing thin. What do you want?”
“To see you and the twins.”
“You’ve seen us, now please leave.”
“Helen, darling, you look tired. At least let me make you a cup of tea.”
Jasmine’s crying could be heard coming from the lounge. Helen glared at Daniel, but couldn’t find the energy to force him out the door.
“Here, make yourself useful.” She handed James to him and went to see to her daughter.
Jasmine needed changing. She was tempted to give her to Daniel to change, but didn’t want to risk him hurting her in his ignorance, so she busied herself with the task while Daniel tried to placate James. He wasn’t having much joy: it seemed James shared his mother’s desire for him to leave.
Daniel handed James back with relief, his suave calm ruffled at the squirming and squalling. James settled as soon as he was in his mother’s arms.
“There’s a man who knows what he wants. I like that.”
He came towards her and Helen felt a strange sensation ripple across her skin at the look on his face.
“I know what I want as well, Helen. I want you. Have you thought any more about my proposal?”
“Daniel, you’re being ridiculous. I left you. I’m with Marcio now. You had your chance, your chance with me, your chance to be the twins’ father, and you blew it.”
“I made a mistake. You took me by surprise, that’s all. I’ve had time to realise what I threw away.”
“Time to frolic with your new lady friend, you mean.”
A twitch of irritation passed across Daniel’s face. “Who told you about that? No, you don’t need to tell me. Maria.”
“Does it matter? You replaced me. I don’t know why you’re back. Quite frankly I don’t care. I won’t deny you access to the twins but, please, leave me alone.”
“Helen, I love you. You have always been the most important thing in my life, my soul mate.”
Once the words would have melted all her resistance. Without realising it, they were the words she had longed to hear from him, spontaneously like that, as if from the heart. For a moment she hesitated and unconsciously took a step forward, her eyes never leaving Daniel’s face. As a result, she caught the glimmer of triumph that lit his eyes, before he had his emotions back under control. It was enough to break the spell.
She knew then it was all a sham. Whatever his reason for being here, it wasn’t due to love. The realisation caused old wounds to reopen and her response was pure anger. Suddenly all the rage, the loneliness and fear, spilled over in a torrent of words.
“Don't make me laugh, it makes my stitches hurt. You never loved me. Maybe the idea of me, once. Not now though, now I’m fat, puffy, tired. You conceal it well but inside you are repulsed.”
As before, like a flicker in the picture, the softness in Daniel’s face shimmered and Helen saw a glimpse of hardness underneath. It was gone in a moment, but the goosebumps on her arms told her she hadn’t imagined it, any more than she had imagined his look of victory.
Daniel reached out his arms towards her, taking her limp hands and holding them in a strong grasp. The softness in his face was replaced by something else; something nearer his true expression. Helen tried to pull her hands away, but he held them firm.
“Okay, if we're going to deal in home truths, I may not love you in the romantic way you seem to think is the only way, but I need you, and the babies. You are the family I have always wanted.”
Helen still wasn’t convinced. Daniel was the most self-sufficient man she knew.
His expression changed again and Helen’s mind began to spin as she tried to keep up with his changing mood. Now his face was all business, as if he were about to deliver difficult news to a client.
“Helen, you're a loving mother, but it's clear you are not coping. As my wife, in my house, you'll have all the help you'll ever need. Then no one need ever wonder if the babies would be better off without you.”
And there it was. Her fears that he would try for custody, the terrible dagger she had unconsciously been waiting for, all sheathed in platitudes and pretence. She shivered and turned away, moving towards the sleeping babies, longing to snatch them out their cribs and hold them close.
Daniel’s face spoke louder than words his satisfaction that the point had been made. Forestalling
the swell of angry words building in Helen’s mind, he held his hand up as if to say, enough for now. Without uttering another word he turned and left the room, while Helen stood helpless and alone.
As he closed the front door behind him, Daniel whistled a little tune.
The overpowering scent of aftershave told Marcio that Daniel had been round. With the smell catching in his throat, and twisting his stomach, he went in search of Helen. He found her working, her laptop set up on the dining table. As he observed her from the doorway he thought how small she seemed, slumped forward over the desk, resting her head on one hand.
“Hard day?” He walked over and rubbed her shoulders. She flinched at his touch, and he dropped his hands immediately.
“No it's been fine, they slept this afternoon.”
“Did you?”
“No. I tried, but I worry something will happen to them.” She checked they were breathing a dozen times a day. “Besides, I need to get back to work. Your advance isn’t going to cover us for ever.”
“Helen, you need to sleep.”
“It's fine, I can sleep later, now you're home.”
“It is beginning to feel like you're avoiding me.” He hovered, uncertain, not wanting to encroach on her space by sitting down at the table next to her.
“How can you say that? You're the one out all day. I'm sorry if this is harder than you thought it would be,” she bit out the words, fear giving them barbs. She stared blankly at the screen in front of her, not able to face him. “I’m sorry it isn’t the happy ever after you wanted.”
“A happy ending is just a story that hasn’t finished yet.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Helen turned at his words, her eyes fierce.
“Nothing.” He shrugged wearily. “I don’t know; it’s just a saying.”
“Are you telling me we’re finished? That you want out, is that it?” Her words frightened her; she hadn’t meant to challenge him, afraid at what he might say.
Marcio pursed his lips and turned abruptly, heading into the kitchen to put the kettle on; to stop himself from saying the words that flooded his brain.
He came back through with a cup of tea. Leaving it on the table next to her computer, he stood without speaking, as if unsure what to say; willing Helen to say something, anything, to make it all okay.
Helen stared at her laptop without seeing, aware of Marcio’s motionless form. The time and space stretched between them, distended like an over-inflated balloon. Helen felt she might burst from the pressure.
“I'm going to get changed,” Marcio said eventually, walking across the lounge to the bedroom.
When she was sure he'd left the room, Helen laid her face on her hands and shook with silent sobs.
In the bedroom Marcio oscillated between rage and despair; He felt he had already lost her, that she was only biding her time before announcing she was going back to Daniel. It was so clear to him she was concealing things. Maybe it was for the best. Daniel could provide a better life for the children and whatever he had thought in the past they were clearly important to him now.
If only I could believe Daniel would be a better father or would make Helen happier than I can. Marcio sat on the bed, elbows on knees, head hanging low, contemplating the dirty laundry littering the floor.
He tried to picture Helen moving back in with Daniel, tried to work out whether it would be a better life for her and the twins, shying away from the revulsion he felt when he thought of her living back with him. When he bent his mind to imagining it, all he could see was a future without light. It felt like shards in his soul to face being alone again. Not just being alone, he thought, but being without them. He had thought his love for Helen could not be matched, but the love he felt for the twins was deeper still. Despite not being their father he had seem them come into the world, had held them when they were minutes old. It was a memory seared into his heart forever.
He returned to the lounge, determined to force a confession from Helen. He needed to know exactly where he stood. When he strode into the room, words hot and sharp in his mouth, he stopped short and forced himself to swallow them. It would have to wait.
Helen was lying with her eyes closed, head on her arms, her face wet with tears. All the fight left him at the sight. Brushing the hair from her flushed face he dropped a kiss on her hair.
“Whatever happens I will always love you, all of you.”
As he tiptoed from the room, Helen's tears began anew, running down her face and across her stinging lips until she thought she would drown in them.
Chapter Seventeen
Looking up from the Sunday papers, Marcio thought how happy he should have been. Mid-morning sun was attempting to breach the windows, inviting them outdoors to the park. Helen was curled on the sofa, feeding Jasmine, while James lay gurgling on his play mat. His mood should have been as light as the sky he could see through the grimy window. Instead it was more like the grime; smoky, black and impenetrable. Beneath the picture-perfect surface he could feel the structure of his relationship with Helen creaking under the weight of the silence. They had been sat together for over an hour and Helen had yet to speak.
I have to get out of the house, Marcio thought, as he watched Helen staring blankly out the window. I don’t know how to break through; I don’t have the words.
He needed to know when she was going to leave; when she would pack her bags and return to Daniel. He had prepared himself for the worst, now it was all about the waiting. He needed to know, also, that he could still see the twins. He had no right to, of course, but he had seen them come into the world. They were his, in his heart, and it tore him apart to think he might never see them again.
“I’m taking the twins out,” he announced. Helen merely shrugged before looking down to see if Jasmine had finished her feed. Seeing that she had fallen asleep, she hooked in a finger to separate the latch, then passed her to Marcio without making eye contact.
He gently loaded the babies into the bassinets, tucking blankets around them against the February chill. There was a pocket park a few minutes’ walk away where other dads often took their children on a Sunday. It comforted him, being near other fathers, even though they rarely spoke.
With the bassinets loaded onto the pram frame, Marcio stood in the doorway, hesitating, as he looked back at Helen. He wanted to ask her to come too. He could count one of Jasmine’s tiny hands the amount of times they’d walked together as a family. The words were in his throat, but his mouth was dry, and the words died unspoken. Even though he stood for several minutes, Helen never once looked up to see why he hadn’t left.
With a deep sigh, Marcio let himself quietly out the door, wheeling the pram out onto the pavement. Pushing his shoulders back he inhaled the crisp morning air; it felt great to be out of the flat, to be able to breathe.
My life has become a building condemned for demolition. The charges have been set and now I have to live through the interminable pause while I wait for the whole edifice to crumble to the ground and disappear forever. At least with Mia it was sudden, there was no warning. I think that was better, less painful, like ripping off a plaster rather than trying to ease it off slowly.
The park was busy, as the winter sun tempted families out to play. That was one of the things he loved about London. Because so few people had gardens, family life was lived in the public spaces. Children kicked footballs, fathers taught their sons and daughters to ride bicycles. Mothers were gathered in twos and threes, gossiping, while toddlers wrapped themselves around their legs and played peek-a-boo.
The motion of the pram had rocked James to sleep, so Marcio decided to find a park bench where he could continue reading the paper. He parked the twins in the minimal shelter formed by a low hedge, then sat with the paper open in front of him, shielding him from any passers-by.
He recognised the voice almost immediately. Daniel had the kind of voice that carried, suffused with an air of importance that implied his words were too momentou
s to be missed. Marcio bristled.
Helen must have rung him the minute I left the flat, told him to come over while I was out.
Marcio’s hands clenched on the paper. He was trying to decide whether to storm back to the flat and confront them, when some of Daniel’s words seeped through his rage.
“I’m on the way there now; I’m going to push her again to marry me. I’m sure she will; I know she is struggling financially and that bloke she’s seeing is only a writer. She wants what’s best for the brats and she knows I can offer that. Besides, I more or less told her I’d sue for custody if she didn’t agree to come back to me.” There was a pause, while the person on the other end spoke.
Marcio peered over his paper. Daniel was walking leisurely through the park, focused on his conversation. Swiftly folding the paper, Marcio got up, released the brake on the pram, and followed behind Daniel as close as he dared.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be the perfect picture of family bliss by the time the paperwork is signed, I promise you. Wife, two kids, what more can they want? I’ve put down a deposit on a house, which thankfully is big enough that I won’t have to listen to the damn things squalling at all hours.”
Daniel’s voice swept over Marcio, raising the hairs on his neck as he understood their meaning. He felt sick, not wanting to hear any more, but eager to find out as much as he could. Poor Helen.
“I’ve already hired a nanny and a personal trainer for Helen so she’s back in some decent clothes and looking more the thing as quickly as possible. You should see her! Talk about letting herself go. If her hair has seen a brush since the brats were born you wouldn’t know it.”
Marcio forced himself to remain calm, to try and think.
Oh, Helen, why didn’t you tell me? All the time I thought you were still in love with Daniel, and he has been holding that over you, threatening to take James and Jasmine away. The thought horrified him; he couldn’t begin to imagine how it must have affected Helen.
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