The Staycation: This summer's hilarious tale of heartwarming friendship, fraught families and happy ever afters

by Michele Gorman

  Harriet smiled back.

  Being out of control wasn’t nearly as scary as she’d imagined.

  Harriet had no right to feel as good as she did when she woke the day after the party. Google had been very clear about that, yet she bounced out of bed. Comedown, shmumdown.

  Good thing she hadn’t slept the whole day away. They needed to get the emergency builders in to fix Sophie’s ceiling. It was the least she could do after leaving the bath running.

  She giggled again thinking about last night. They’d been like teenagers! No – even the teens were more responsible. They were the ones who’d mopped up all the water from the bathroom and bedroom. She remembered seeing the towels hanging on the clothesline outside when she went down to the kitchen. The house wasn’t Harriet-neat, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. The cans and bottles were in recycling bags and most of the glasses were in the dishwasher. She added the pod and turned it on. She’d mop – a favourite pastime – then wait to hoover till everyone was up. It could be a while. Owen had still been wide awake at 4 a.m. when she and James had finally gone to bed. She wouldn’t see Billie till at least noon.

  Most of the sofa cushions were nearly on the floor. She busied herself putting them back where they belonged.

  Someone had dropped a mobile phone down the side of one of the reading chairs. When she hit the home button, a view of their barns lit up the screen. James had been sitting there last night (this morning).

  She knew the code. Not their wedding, or Billie’s birth. It was the date he’d got his first goat as a child. They’d started celebrating it as a joke. Now it was a tradition.

  She could unlock his phone. But being able to do something and it being the right thing to do could be vastly different things. Harriet wasn’t a snoopy person. She never had been and, until she held that phone, never imagined she would be.

  She wasn’t keen to become that person now. But she also didn’t want to bury her head in the sand when she still had the Persephone question to answer. That wasn’t practical.

  What if she had only the quickest of scans? She could look but not look, just to satisfy herself. All right: a scan only.

  Harriet held her breath. She was really doing this.

  She’d never crossed that line before.

  Would it be better if she only looked at the most recent text? Not a full invasion of privacy. Just a little one.

  She made little ‘if, then’ adjustments like this until she’d agreed with herself to only look at a text notification of the most recent text, if it came up on the home screen when she unlocked the phone. Anyone could accidentally see those.

  She punched in the code.

  She slumped into the chair that had just offered up the answer she thought she was so keen to know. Everything over the past months, all the little clues, fell neatly into place.

  As soon as James came downstairs, she handed him his phone. ‘I saw the notification. Of your last text.’ She couldn’t believe she sounded so calm.

  Warily, he looked at the text.

  James slowly closed his eyes. ‘It’s not what you think.’

  ‘What do I think, James? That Persephone can’t wait to get you back so she can show you her new pants?’

  ‘It’s not that. I knew we couldn’t keep anything from you. I’m sorry.’ To give him the tiniest smidge of credit, at least he looked it. ‘Here, read them all.’

  ‘I don’t want to read your texts.’

  ‘I beg to differ, dear heart, or you wouldn’t have unlocked my phone.’ He held his phone out to her.

  How was he making her feel guilty when he was the one choosing another woman’s knickers? ‘This is how you want to tell me?’

  ‘I promised Persephone I wouldn’t tell you, no matter what. This way I’m not telling you.’

  ‘So nice to see you showing such loyalty to Persephone,’ she snapped.

  ‘Just read through the texts. Then you’ll know.’

  She started swiping down quickly, scrolling back through all the texts till she got to the first one, which had been sent more than five years earlier. It took thirty-seven swipes. It seemed like a lot of texts. She tapped on her own name and started swiping back. It only took thirty-one swipes to get to the same period.

  So that was one conclusion. They were talking more by text than she and James were. The question was: what else were they doing more?

  As she scrolled forward from around Persephone’s birthday, at first the relief that sped through her made her giddy.

  Then she got to the punchline.

  ‘I should have guessed this was her idea,’ she said, handing back his phone. ‘You were going to spring this on me with no warning?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I know that was a stupid idea. Persephone – I – we – thought this would be the best way.’ He sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I wish none of it was happening.’

  ‘Well, you can’t undo things now, can you?’

  Chapter 27

  Friday

  Sophie was frightened. There was no way for her to go back now. It was like when she woke in the morning and her mind started turning over. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get back to sleep. Once her eyes were open, she couldn’t close them again.

  She wasn’t sure she’d want to, even if she could. She couldn’t quite believe that her feelings had changed the way they had, but now she saw Dan for exactly the man he was.

  Sophie was woke.

  She didn’t mean to have a go at her dad when she rang him, but hadn’t they noticed the way Dan had treated her over the years? ‘We wouldn’t have picked him for you, love,’ her dad conceded, ‘but then, nobody is good enough for my daughter. And you always said you were happy. We did check in to be sure. Remember? Especially your mum.’

  Sophie would have loved to talk to her mum right then. Her voice was choked when she answered. ‘I know, I do remember. I’ve always said I was happy.’

  But she’d said much more than that, hadn’t she? Time and again she’d told her parents, friends, random strangers, how much she loved the way Dan took care of her. She’d gloated over it when other women complained about their partners.

  How things had changed.

  Miracle of miracles, Dan wasn’t in the office this morning. His bare toes wriggled on one of the kitchen chairs as he read the newspaper spread over the table. He glanced up when she came in. ‘Perfect timing. Give me a refill, will you, please?’ He held up his coffee-stained mug. His eyes were back on the article.

  She poured him more coffee from the professional-looking machine, and one for herself. There was only a little milk left. She filled her cup just the way she liked it. Dan’s coffee barely changed colour.

  ‘What do you want to do today?’ he asked. He sipped his coffee, then looked into his mug with a frown.

  ‘Sorry, we need more milk,’ she said, before savouring her own delicious brew.

  Dan sighed like he’d just missed one lottery number. ‘I thought we’d go to Cheddar caves. The children will love that. I looked it up and we can go caving.’

  ‘It’s the children who’ll love that?’ Dan was the adventure junkie.

  His voice got quiet. ‘That’s what I’ve just said. They’ve got space for us this afternoon.’

  ‘Then why bother asking me if you already know you’ll do what you want?’

  ‘You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.’ His expression could have been hewn from marble.

  ‘That’s a nice thing to say.’

  ‘Well, then, what do you want from me, Soph? I find something interesting for us to do, together like you wanted, and you shit all over the idea. If you want to join us, then do. If you don’t, then don’t. I’m not going to beg you to spend time with your family.’

  That was a low blow. As if her family hadn’t always (always!) been her first concern. She listened to her heart thud. ‘If you’re going to take the children down into caves then I’m coming with you.’

/>   ‘Just try not to be such a damper on the party, will you? It’s getting old.’

  That wasn’t the only thing getting old.

  The orange boiler suit made her look like an Oompa Loompa.

  ‘You’ll be glad of it,’ said the caving leader, handing out helmets. His suit was stylishly blue and grey, she noted. They must dress the tourists in hi-vis so they didn’t lose any. ‘It gets a bit dirty underground.’

  She liked him; he seemed friendly but didn’t make any jokes. She didn’t want to rely on a comedian to lead them safely into the bowels of the earth.

  ‘That’s all part of the fun,’ said Dan. Like he didn’t always make a big moany deal over the tiniest spill.

  She laughed to herself, thinking back to the airport. It really had been Oliver who’d spilled the iced water into his lap. Now she wished she’d done it instead.

  They’d barely uttered a word to each other on the drive here. She wasn’t sure she trusted herself to make small talk. Hey, Dan, nice weather, isn’t it? Oh, and about that time you went to court and didn’t tell me. Kind of something I’d imagine a husband should share with his wife, don’t you think? I just wondered whether you’re being dodgy again. Is Laxmi covering for you?

  But the children were excited, and that made Sophie happy. As happy as she could be, knowing she was about to dangle over a gaping hole.

  The leader double-checked everyone’s safety equipment, and explained again that it was only a twenty-foot drop to the cave below.

  That still sounded like a long way. ‘Are you sure you’re happy doing this?’ she asked the children.

  ‘They’re excited,’ Dan said. ‘Stop coddling them, Soph.’

  ‘Actually,’ said the leader, ‘it’s right to check. I was just about to ask. It’s important that the whole team feels comfortable, or safety could be compromised.’

  Dan winked at the leader as if he’d just praised him, not slapped him down. ‘You’re comfortable, aren’t you, kids?’

  ‘Yeah!’ they both said. They did look excited. Sophie tried to relax and they all descended.

  As they crept through the luckily-not-too-claustrophobic-making tunnels, Sophie did start to enjoy herself. Despite Dan.

  ‘How many kilometres is this system?’ He’d been shining his torch into every crevice along the way, saying things like, ‘I bet I could squeeze through there.’

  ‘I’ve been through fifteen kilometres,’ the leader answered.

  ‘And how much is accessible?’

  ‘Fifteen kilometres. Try to stay together as we go through this next bit.’ The leader shone his torch at Dan so he didn’t wander off.

  ‘Can’t we go that way?’ he said. ‘It looks more interesting. This has been okay for the kids, but kind of tame for the rest of us. Am I right?’

  The still air in the cave was perfectly quiet.

  Sophie nearly apologised. Then she remembered that she wasn’t the one being an arse.

  ‘It’s a dead end,’ the leader said.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because I’m the leader and, I’m guessing, you’ve never been caving before.’

  Sophie laughed. Dan had never climbed into anything more complicated than their loft.

  ‘It’s not rocket science, mate,’ Dan muttered so only Sophie heard him.

  The children were full of chatter on the drive back, and Sophie spent most of the journey twisted round in her seat so she could talk to them. Dan was too full of his success as an expert caver to notice that she had hardly spoken to him.

  ‘All right, showers everyone,’ she told Katie and Oliver when they got into the house. ‘Upstairs now. Then you can go and see the goats.’

  She was just about to go upstairs herself when Dan stopped her. ‘That was a good day, wasn’t it?’

  She was wary. ‘I think everyone enjoyed it. Thanks for the suggestion.’

  ‘I’m glad you appreciate it, Soph. So, I was right, wasn’t I?’

  He looked so bloody pleased with himself. ‘It’s not that I don’t appreciate the things you do, Dan. I just don’t like feeling that I have to be grateful for every little thing. Just because you do so much doesn’t mean that I can’t. You don’t let me do things for myself, and I want to.’ Her voice sounded as off-kilter as her heart felt.

  Dan’s laugh had no joy. ‘Hold on, there, Pinocchio, don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re a real boy.’

  ‘That doesn’t even make sense.’

  ‘You just don’t understand it.’

  She wanted to wipe that arrogant look off his face. ‘Stop talking like you invented me, Dan.’

  ‘But that’s exactly what I did, silly bean. I made you. I introduced you to all the good things you have now. All the good things you are now. I don’t expect you to thank me. I don’t need to be praised. But you are everything because of me. You’ll do well not to forget that.’

  Who was she, exactly? Sophie wondered, because she felt like a woman who was tired of paying homage to an overbearing husband who controlled her. A woman with heart palpitations and, until this holiday, no sense of her own worth. ‘I’m not so sure I like the transformation,’ she said.

  ‘Please. What were you before, huh? Tell me that. No, I’ll tell you. You were an average woman in a dead-end job who didn’t know the difference between Martin Luther and Martin Luther King.’

  Sophie smarted at that memory. She’d been a bit tipsy, to be fair, and Dan was throwing around so many names she didn’t know. It was an easy mistake to make. Dan never let her forget it.

  ‘You’d never been further than Spain, or to the ballet, let alone the opera, and you’d never eaten oysters.’ Dan was warming to his theme. ‘What’s your favourite food now?’

  ‘M&S chocolate volcano, actually.’

  ‘Liar. I showed you everything you know.’

  Not quite everything, because Sophie felt that she knew quite a lot on her own about what she was going to do. ‘I suppose you’re taking all the credit for the children, too?’ she asked. She might not know her Luther from her Luther King, but at least she was on safe ground with the children. Dan had never so much as sniffed a nappy.

  ‘Our children, Soph. Our children. And that’s the least you can do when I’m taking care of everything else. You should be grateful I let you be a full-time mum. Most women would love that luxury.’

  ‘You let me have that luxury? Dan, you’re deluded if you think that getting up at the crack of dawn seven days a week and being depended on for every single thing in someone’s life is a luxury. I put more miles in than an Uber driver, carting everyone where they need to go. And you’ve got me volunteering for all and sundry, remember? I’d say that amounts to bloody hard work.’

  His gaze was sub-zero. ‘Don’t I know it. Sophie, I do it every day in an office.’

  ‘And you remind me every chance you get. I’m sick of it, to be honest.’

  ‘Well, join the club.’ Dan’s voice was rising now. Sophie braced herself. ‘I’m sick of a lot of things you can’t even conceive of with your tiny little mind. You’ve got typically bad timing, Sophie, because now is really not a good time for me to have to deal with this, too.’

  After everything she’d just said, that’s what he came away with? The inconvenience to him? ‘Well, Dan, for once it’s not about you. It’s about me, and I’m telling you what I need.’

  ‘What, Sophie? Tell me what you need.’ He grabbed her arm. ‘Never mind, I’ll tell you. You need me, that’s what you need.’

  ‘I don’t need you, Dan, and what’s more, I don’t want you, not like this.’ She jerked away from his grip. ‘I don’t want to be bossed around by you all the time. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.’

  ‘Well, I don’t want a wife who doesn’t let me be a husband.’

  ‘Your idea of a husband is so skewed! It’s not the 1940s.’ Had she really not known how controlling he was? Was she so delusional? No, not delusional, just lulled by an easy life. She’d w
illingly walked into that cage and closed the door. Well, she wanted out now. ‘And you don’t get to dictate what I accept from you,’ she went on. ‘Not any more. I can do things on my own. I have done. I took over the entire Scouts event, and as much as I’m sure you hoped I’d fall on my arse, it went fine. Better than fine. I did that. It reminded me that I don’t need you all the time, Dan, and you shouldn’t expect me to. That’s not what a marriage is supposed to be. I don’t want it to be like this.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he said. ‘What are you saying, that you’re going to leave me over a bunch of Boy Scouts? You won’t do that.’

  Unbelievable. He was still trying to tell her what she could and couldn’t do. The problem for him was that she was no longer listening.

  ‘I think you need some time to think about this,’ he said. ‘So, I’ll just go back to London early, shall I? Give you the space you claim you need, now that you’re Miss Independence? Good fucking luck with that.’

  ‘You can’t go back. Harriet is there till Sunday.’

  ‘Ah, simple Sophie.’ He couldn’t have sounded more patronising. ‘It doesn’t occur to you that I can get a hotel? Psh, and you think you don’t need me. We’ll see how long that little idea of yours lasts.’

  ‘Yes, we will.’ With that she climbed the stairs, locked the en suite bathroom door behind her and slid to the cool tiled floor. They’d never had a row like this. There was no way to take back what they’d said. What had she just done? Her hands shook as she tried to catch her breath in the echoey room. With each exhale, more tears seeped out. Then she was crying so much she could barely breathe – over what she was losing and, maybe, what she only thought she’d had in the first place. They hadn’t had a relationship at all; at least, not what she thought of as a relationship, built on respect and trust. She’d been in a hostage situation with a lenient captor, as long as she did everything he wanted. Even worse, she’d sung his praises to everyone she knew. She was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome.

  She buried her face in a bath towel, hoping that only she could hear her shuddering sobs.

  Yet still she wanted Dan to come for her, to knock on the bathroom door and take her into his arms and tell her everything was okay. Even though she knew she was right. Even though she was livid over the way he controlled her and the cruel things he’d said. She still wanted the comfort. She still loved him.