by Vivien Brown
Would he admit to it? Argue? Shout back? Or leave quietly? Try to turn the tables and ask me to leave instead of him? I sat and nibbled my nails waiting for his key in the lock, the tread of his feet in the hall.
He was on time, for once, shrugging off his coat and shoes, going straight to the whisky bottle in the cabinet. There was no hello, no peck on the cheek, no ‘How was your day?’ Even those niceties had gradually died away.
‘Josh.’
He turned towards me, took in the look on my face and plonked himself down in the armchair on the other side of the room.
‘What’s up?’
‘If I said The Georgian Hotel to you, Room 112, what would you say?’
I watched him take a drink from his glass, staring into its amber depths, then gulping down far more than was necessary, before he looked back up at me.
‘Wasn’t that the place I went to for the staff Christmas party? And 112? That may have been my room number. I don’t know. How am I supposed to remember something like that?’ He shook his head. ‘What about it anyway?’
‘It wasn’t your room number, actually. I found your receipt. You know, in that file you keep under the desk. I’ve found quite a lot of things in there lately. But no, you didn’t stay in Room 112 the night of the party. You stayed in Room 245. Officially, anyway, as that’s the room you booked and paid for. Whether you actually slept in it is another matter.’
He was looking decidedly uneasy. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. In fact, I’ve had a long day and I’m going for a bath, so can we leave this, whatever it is, for another time?’ He started to stand up. ‘Where’s Janey?’
‘She’s at Becky’s, so she won’t be sleeping here tonight. And neither will you.’
‘Pardon?’
‘I know, Josh. About the other woman. The woman whose room you snuck into that night and probably didn’t come out of again until morning. I’m not stupid. I know this isn’t the first time, and it probably won’t be the last. And it wouldn’t surprise me at all if it was Eve. Oh, yes, I know all about Eve …’
I saw him visibly flinch at the mention of her name.
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. What about Eve?’
‘Your affair, relationship, fling – whatever you choose to call it. I know. And I’ve known for a while, so don’t even try to deny it. Eve’s told me everything.’
He gripped the arm of the chair and sat back down. I don’t think I had ever seen him thrown so quickly off balance, sitting there pale-faced, gazing straight ahead as if he had been robbed of the power of speech.
‘Well, aren’t you going to say something? Deny it, at least, like you usually do when I accuse you of anything, even if it’s just not putting the sodding bins out? Knock me back with some rubbish about me being a nag or paranoid, or just plain wrong? Not that there’d be any point, because you know it’s true this time. And you know that I know … everything,’
‘Sarah …’
‘Yes? Come on, Josh. Let’s hear your version, shall we? How Eve’s making it all up, how she’s never forgiven you for leaving her all those years ago, how she’s just being spiteful, out for revenge. Come on, tell me you haven’t been near her, haven’t slept with her, that you don’t love her and never have. I’m ready for your lies.’
‘Seems you’ve made up your mind already, so whatever I say you’re not going to listen, are you?’
‘Oh, I’ll listen. I may not believe a word that comes out of your mouth but I will listen. I like a good fairy story.’
‘Okay, so I did see Eve a few times, when she was living in Wales. It was hardly the love affair of the century. I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry. It was stupid of me, and wrong. Is that what you want? An admission, an apology?’
‘It’s a start, but no, what I actually want is for you to go. Leave. Get out of here. Out of this house, out of this family.’
‘Look, let’s not overreact here. The thing with Eve … it was over before it began really. A few meetings, meals out, a kiss and cuddle after we’d had a drink or two. I was away from home and she was … just there. It meant nothing. I haven’t seen her, been alone with her, for months.’
‘Oh, bully for you! I should be grateful, I suppose. And how about the woman at the hotel? Was that Eve too? Or is there some other poor soul you’re stringing along nowadays?’
He couldn’t look at me. ‘What woman? Where are you getting this load of old rubbish from? I don’t know about any woman, or what room I’m meant to have been in. I stayed over, like I said I was going to, so I wouldn’t have to drive home, so I could have a few drinks.’
‘Not all you had, by all accounts.’
‘What bloody accounts? Who’s been filling your head with all this stuff?’
‘You deny it then?’
‘Doesn’t seem to matter what I say, you’ve made up your mind. Guilty, with bloody knobs on.’
‘That’s about it, yes. I can’t do this, Josh. I can’t put up with the way things are. I never really know where you are, what you’re doing, or who with. I can’t trust you anymore. If I ever could.’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake.’
‘Swear as much as you like, but this marriage isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on. It isn’t worth trying to save. You don’t love me. I don’t think you ever really have. If I hadn’t got pregnant that first time …’
‘We would never have got together. Do you think I don’t know that? That I haven’t wondered how different things could have been, for both of us? But we made our decision, and we’ve made the best of it, haven’t we? Made a life, a home, Janey …’
‘It’s not enough. I want you gone.’
‘And where exactly do you expect me to go? This is my house.’
‘No, it’s our house. You may be the main earner around here but that doesn’t give you special rights. It’s my house, my home too, and our daughter’s. And we’re not going anywhere. In fact, let’s see what the divorce courts say, shall we?’
‘Divorce? Let’s not be so hasty here. We can sort this out. We don’t need to get divorced. I can’t get divorced. I’m a Catholic.’
‘When it suits you.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘When did you last go to church? Confess? Pray? And why’s there a condom in your wallet? Doesn’t sound much like a good Catholic boy to me.’
‘What have you been doing looking in my wallet?’
‘Is that it? Is that all you can say? Because that condom’s not there for me, is it? No, Josh, this is it. The end. We’re over. Your suitcase is out on the bed. Pack a few things and go. We can decide about the finer details later, when we’ve got a bit of space between us. I want you out of here, or things will get a darn sight messier, believe me.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning I’ll fight you for every penny you’ve got, house, pensions, the lot. And tell your precious Catholic parents what you’ve been up to, not to mention your boss.’
‘Oh, play dirty, why don’t you? What do you want here, Sarah? Blood?’
‘If I have to. Or you can give in to the inevitable. Get out of here, off to Eve’s or a hotel, or a park bench for all I care. Wherever you can wriggle off to like the worm you are. And maybe then we can sort things out, amicably, from a distance, like civilised adults.’
‘You bitch.’
‘Really? I’m the bitch? I’m the one in the wrong here? I don’t think so, Josh.’
‘You’ve changed.’ He looked at me, the hurt burning in his eyes.
‘Yes, I think I probably have. I’ve grown up. I’ve realised no one’s going to fight for me. I have to do it myself, look after myself, stand on my own two feet for once. And I can only do that without you here messing with my head. Because you’ve changed too, and I don’t like what I see. Go and pack, Josh, please. It’s the only way.’
He stood up, reluctantly, stopping in front of me as he crossed the room towards the stairs, and tried to
take my hand. I tugged it away.
‘No, don’t touch me. I don’t know where those hands have been.’ I tried to hold back the sob that rose up in my throat as I shrank back into the sofa. ‘I never want you to touch me again.’
‘Sarah …’
‘No. No more. Just go.’
‘But what about Janey? How will we …?’
‘I’ll tell her. Oh, don’t worry. Not the details. She doesn’t need to know what a rat her father truly is. I wouldn’t do that, hurt her, or try to come between you. You’re still her dad and I wouldn’t want to wreck how she feels about you. And of course you can still see her, whenever you like. Just not here, okay? No covering things up. No playing happy families. She needs to know the truth, or a version of it at least. That our marriage is over.’
‘It’ll cost. Me living somewhere else. A bed and breakfast, a bedsit. I won’t be able to cover the bills for two places. Not for long. You do know that?’
‘We’ll worry about that side of things later. Or let the lawyers worry about it for us. For now, I just want us to take the first steps, to agree to separate, to accept that we can’t stay together, live together, anymore. Please, Josh, don’t make this any harder than it already is.’
He went quietly, in the end. Took his work clothes, his razor, his toothbrush, and went. I didn’t know where he would go. I don’t suppose he knew himself.
The house felt different, empty, silent, after the front door closed behind him. I still didn’t know if it had been Eve that night at the hotel. Eve, or someone else. What difference did it make in the end? I wasn’t sure I cared anymore.
***
Janey didn’t take it well. Of course, she blamed me. Her precious father had gone, while she was out and without saying goodbye, and that had to be down to me. Something I had said or done. Dads didn’t just leave home for no reason, did they? I did my best to explain, which wasn’t easy without telling her about his relationship with her own auntie and God knows who else, but I was determined not to do that. Not to run him down, slag him off, burden her with my own feelings of hatred and betrayal. I didn’t want to put her in the situation where she was expected to take sides, although she did anyway, and it wasn’t my side she took.
Janey made it clear she no longer wanted to spend time with me. She took to going home with her friend Becky after school, eating there, coming home late with her homework already done so I couldn’t even offer to help her with any of it, and hiding away in her room until bedtime.
After a few nights in a hotel, Josh had taken on a small rented flat not far away, above a florist’s shop. Not dissimilar to the place we used to have over the dry cleaner’s, I guessed, but smaller. Not that I went to see it, but he gave me the address in case of emergencies and, according to Janey, who was round there like a shot at the first opportunity, it was very plain and pretty much empty. Just a double bed, a small table with two wooden dining chairs, and a sofa too short and too tatty for her to sleep on with any degree of comfort. It didn’t stop her asking to stay over, but Josh did at least have the sense to tell her that might not be such a good idea, not until he’d bought a few things to make it feel more like a home.
Dad was shocked when I told him what had happened, and yet I could sense a sort of virtual pat on the back, as if he felt I had finally done the right thing. ‘Things will work out, Love,’ he said, pouring me a second cup of tea. ‘You’ve still got your job and a roof over your head, and Janey. And if paying the bills becomes a problem, please tell me. I have a little put by.’
‘No, Dad. Josh got us into this, and it’s Josh who’s going to have to pay. And I don’t just mean in money. He’ll regret what he’s done, now he’s back in some pokey flat on his own.’
‘And is he on his own? No woman on the scene?’
‘I have no idea. I did wonder if Eve …’
‘Oh, no, Sarah. I don’t think so. She told us that was over and done with. I don’t think she would lie.’
‘Wouldn’t she? Well, we’ll see, won’t we?’
‘Have you told her? That he’s gone?’
‘What? Give her the chance to go running right back to him? Oh, no. My marriage, or what’s left of it, is none of her business. I can’t stop him telling her, but I’m not doing it. It’d be like dropping a big fat present right in her lap.’
‘Oh, Sarah.’ He shook his head, sadly. ‘I’m so sorry, Love, that it’s come to this. This can’t be easy for you. Or for our Janey. Must have hit her hard.’
‘It has. But she’ll get over it. I bet half the kids in her class live in some sort of fractured, patched-together family. Divorce, separation, step-parents. It’s almost the norm these days. Not that that’s what I would ever have chosen for her, but it is what it is. I can’t go back now.’
‘No, Love, you can’t. Onwards and upwards, eh?’
I forced a smile and gave him a hug. ‘Thanks, Dad.’
‘What for?’
‘Not judging me. Not saying you told me so, all those years ago. I gave it a go, Dad, my best shot, and I did love him. I really did. Shame he never felt quite the same way.’
‘Well, here’s to new beginnings,’ he said, raising his cup and chinking it against mine as if we were drinking champagne instead of PG Tips.
‘New beginnings,’ I echoed, before grabbing my coat and heading back home to see if Janey was going to grace me with her presence after school.
***
It was Sunday morning and Janey had finally stopped over for the night at Josh’s, in a brand-new sleeping bag on a blow-up bed which I’m sure she would later have great pleasure in telling me was so much better than her own bed and cosy duvet at home. She’d be wanting to move in with him soon, and I had no idea how I was going to deal with that. I just hoped Josh would be sensible enough, and fair enough, to tell her it wouldn’t work. He was not the sort who would manage to look after himself particularly well, let alone a teenaged girl. Food shopping, cooking, laundry, the ironing, not to mention the moods, the periods …
I lay in bed and stretched my arms and legs out, wriggling my fingers and pointing my toes, making one of those happy, good-to-be-alive star shapes that Eve and I had so loved making when we were kids, but there was no elation, no surge of hope, no wonderful feeling that anything was possible. Life had got in the way – real life – and the magic just didn’t happen.
I had the house, and the double bed, to myself, and nothing to get up for. It should have been bliss, but a strange feeling of emptiness had descended and all I could think of was how alone I was. My mum dead, my husband gone, my daughter hardly speaking to me, a sister I could no longer trust. Dad did his best but there were only so many shoes he could fill.
I dragged myself up and into the shower, letting the water stream over my hair and face until it ran cold, then dressed in jeans and a floppy jumper and forced a bowl of cereal down. The scene from the window was one of bare trees, light mist, a layer of frost still carpeting the ground. I always found winter depressing. Perhaps everything would look better come spring. I gazed at my gaunt face in the hall mirror. Perhaps I would look better come spring. But I was on my own now and the sooner I got used to that the better.
Chapter 27
EVE
A date! At last, something to stop me obsessing over Arnie and pining over Josh. It had been years since I had been on a real live date, spent any real quality time with a man who wasn’t either gay or Josh. In fact, I had never been on a date with a man who wasn’t either gay or Josh!
Seb Barnes was a science teacher at the school, tall, dark and handsome, happily divorced, and a couple of years younger than me. My first thought when he asked me out for dinner was that he’d made a mistake, and my second was that I couldn’t believe my luck. It was only when I got to thought number three that I started to worry. I was scared. I had no experience of dating, of what was the norm these days. Would he expect me to tell him all about myself, when I knew there were parts of my history I would much
rather keep to myself? Should I offer to split the bill? And what happened at the end of the evening? Go our separate ways, or share a taxi, or would he be all chivalrous and want to see me to my door? And then what? A kiss on the cheek, or on the lips, an invitation to come in for coffee, or more? Should I avoid the garlic and not drink too much, and choose my underwear carefully, just in case? I felt like some silly teenaged virgin, frightened to do the wrong thing, and of the possible consequences if I did.
Of course there was no such thing as the wrong thing. Or the right thing. Every man, every date, every relationship, was different, and all I had to do was go with the flow, see what happened, what I felt. He might not even want to kiss me. He might spend an hour in my company and be desperate for an escape route for all I knew. And he was no Arnie O’Connor. I had to remember that. Any stupid lingering fears of being pressured or forced had to be pushed away now, or I would surely die an old maid!
I had changed my outfit four times, the discarded dresses and jackets and jewellery littering my bed, before I felt reasonably satisfied with how I looked in a simple white top and a pair of nicely shaped, soft blue trousers. I’d been to the hairdresser’s after school, which wasn’t strictly necessary but had given me a much-needed confidence boost, and I had the perfect pair of mid-heel shoes and a brand-new bag lined up in the hall and ready to go. Only the make-up to deal with now!