by Rachel Marks
‘Right. Busy sorting out my nephew here by the looks of things. Emma mentioned he’s not had the easiest time settling in, but I’m surprised he’s getting into fights. He’s a caring boy, you know?’
I nod, reluctant to shatter her rose-tinted glasses. ‘Does his mum work? I’ve left messages on the home phone and the mobile but she’s not called back. We don’t have a work number for her.’
‘No, she doesn’t work. She … she’s had a tricky couple of years, but she’s getting there. She’s doing much better.’
‘Harley mentioned something about her being in bed a lot. Anything we need to know about? Does she need some support from the school?’
Mimi furrows her brow. ‘She went through a bad patch …’ She looks over at Harley, who is rolling around as if wrestling with the giant beanbag, and then turns her mouth away from him and lowers her voice to a whisper. ‘When Harley’s dad walked out, she struggled for a while, but she’s doing much better now on her own. She loves Harley to bits. She doesn’t need any help.’
I wonder whether Harley’s interpretation of events isn’t accurate or if Mimi just isn’t aware of what’s going on with her sister, but it doesn’t feel fair to say much more without speaking to Harley’s mum first.
‘Well, I think it would be best for today if you took him home with you, if that’s OK? There’s only about an hour or so left until home time anyway. I think he’ll just get himself into more trouble if he comes back into class.’
‘Of course, no problem. And I’m sorry he’s causing you such difficulties. I’ll have a chat with him on the way home. Aunty Mimi will sort him out, don’t you worry.’ She gives Harley a faux-cross stare and his face breaks into a smile.
I’m not sure it’s quite such an easy fix, but I nod encouragingly. ‘Please tell his mum that my door is always open if she wants to discuss anything.’
Mimi waves my concern away. ‘She’s fine, honestly. I’ll talk to Harley.’
‘OK.’
Looking over at Harley, with his wild, unbrushed hair and permanently snotty nose, I suddenly have the strangest desire to put my arm around him. I’m sure it’ll soon pass. That my usual inclination to throttle him will return with force. But looking into his eyes right now, he doesn’t look so much malevolent as scared shitless, and I know just how that feels.
‘So is there anything else?’
I realize I’ve gone quiet. ‘No. Sorry. You’re free to take him home.’ I look at Harley. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, little man, OK? Best behaviour, yeah?’
I know I’m wasting my breath, that asking him to behave is, like most of the tools in a teacher’s arsenal (sticker charts, missed playtimes, clouds, rockets and rainbows), entirely ineffective.
‘Harley? Answer Noa— I mean, Mr …’
‘Carlton.’
‘Answer Mr Carlton, please.’
‘Yes, I’ll be good tomorrow.’
It rolls off the tongue so easily. I imagine he’s said it a thousand times before and then broken his promise within seconds. I give Mimi a weak smile and I wonder if she can tell that I don’t believe a word of it.
‘So, I’ll see you around? Perhaps you’ll stop hiding from me and come back to the pub?’
I feel my cheeks flush. ‘I’m not hiding. I …’
‘It’s fine, Noah,’ she interrupts, and I’m glad because I have no idea what I was going to say. ‘I’m just winding you up.’
‘Well, it was nice to see you again.’
‘You too. Right, come on, trouble. Let’s get you home.’
I hold the door open for her, trying to avoid our bodies touching as she walks out.
*
In a strange moment of mirroring, just after sending Harley home, my phone buzzes in my pocket with a message from the boys’ head teacher asking if I could pop in to see her about Gabriel. My initial reaction is panic (what has my child done to humiliate me?) but then I remember it’s Gabe we’re talking about. He’s a model student. The only thing his teachers ever want to see me about is to tell me how amazed they are by his work ethic or his exceptional attainment, the little creep. If it was Finn, I’d be more concerned. He’s more like I was at school. The class clown. A follower. Desperate to be liked. But Gabe’s like Kate, moral to a fault and far too headstrong to do something he doesn’t think is a good idea just to fit in with the others.
I walk past the office, on to the field, and call Kate. It rings for ages before she picks up.
‘Hi, Noah. I’m guessing you’ve also had a call from the school?’
‘I missed it. Mrs Newman left me a message. What’s going on?’
‘She said she’d rather talk to us together and in person.’
‘Sounds ominous. But he’s never been in trouble for anything. He’s the kid you dream about having in your class.’
‘Well, let’s wait and see what she has to say. Maybe there’s a simple explanation.’
‘Maybe.’ I pace the field, feeling my rage building. How could anyone have a bad word to say about Gabe?
‘And, Noah, please don’t go in there all guns blazing. Listen to what she has to say first.’
‘I won’t. But I will stick up for him if he’s being unfairly judged.’
‘OK, but just remember what it’s like to talk to the parent who thinks the sun shines out of their child’s arse.’
‘But it does. He’s a superstar kid.’
Kate laughs. ‘I know he is. Look, meet me in the car park, OK?’
‘OK. See you soon.’
*
Mrs Newman has that uncanny ability to make you feel ten again, called into the head’s office because you flooded the boys’ toilets. She’s in her early sixties and everything about her appearance is sharp – her tightly cropped dark grey hair, her pointed nose and pinched cheeks. When she smiles, it always looks like it’s an effort, like she’s having to force her face into the expression.
‘Thank you both for coming in. I recognize it can’t have been easy for you to get away from school at such short notice, Mr Carlton.’
‘Oh, it’s fine. You got me out of a staff meeting so I owe you one.’
She utters a clipped laugh. ‘So. Gabriel.’ As she talks, she rearranges the pencils in her desk organizer. If she were one of the children in the school, I bet she’d be told to stop fiddling and focus. ‘As you know, he’s usually one of our star pupils, which is why his most recent behaviour is worrying us. He seems to have had a distinct change in attitude. Refusing to participate, being quite rude to staff. He seems very angry. Have either of you noticed that?’
I immediately jump to his defence. ‘No, not at all. Are you sure you’ve got the right boy?’
Mrs Newman smiles at me as if to say ‘Yes, I’m not totally incompetent,’ and then she looks at Kate.
‘How about you, Mrs Carlton, sorry, Miss …?’
‘Just call me Kate.’
‘Right. Kate. Have you noticed a change in Gabriel at home? I gather he spends the majority of his time living with you?’
Mrs Newman’s opinion of our muddled surnames and fractured living arrangements is written clearly on her face.
Kate doesn’t immediately respond and I join Mrs Newman in looking over at her questioningly. She rubs her right thumb down the length of the fingers on her left hand, one by one, and, like being pricked by a needle, I notice the sparkling engagement ring that she must’ve been hiding in a drawer somewhere up until now.
‘He has been a bit angrier than usual. I figured it was just a stage he was going through.’
I swiftly turn my body towards her. ‘News to me.’
‘Oh, come on, Noah. It was nothing major. He’s just been snapping at me more, answering back a bit, storming off to his room. Just kid stuff. I would’ve told you if I thought it was anything serious.’
Mrs Newman smiles at us both, like a marriage counsellor trying to ensure a productive session. ‘Have there been any changes at home? Anything that might have caused him to
feel angry?’
Kate shakes her head.
‘Only the fact you’re rushing into another marriage. It can’t be easy for him to understand.’
Kate’s cheeks flush. ‘It’s been two years, Noah. I wouldn’t exactly call it rushing. Anyway, Gabriel is really excited about the wedding so I don’t think it could be that.’
Mrs Newman straightens a pile of papers by tapping them on the desk. ‘Well, maybe you could both just have a chat with him. See if there’s anything bothering him. It would be such a shame for this to have a negative impact on his otherwise excellent academic performance. I’m afraid he will have to miss his playtime tomorrow for refusing to finish his story today.’
‘We understand,’ Kate says, like we are still a cohesive ‘we’ when actually she chose to shatter that, to break us apart into two stand-alone beings.
‘I’ll go and speak to him now. I’d like regular updates, please,’ I say, adopting the role of serious educational professional when it suits me. ‘Can you let me know how his behaviour is tomorrow?’
‘Of course. I’ll call you at the end of the day.’
‘Thanks.’
‘And please keep school posted about how his behaviour is at home, Kate,’ Mrs Newman says, giving Kate a gentle smile.
Kate nods weakly but doesn’t say anything.
When we get outside the head’s office, Gabriel is sitting in the library with Finn showing him a book about space. When he sees us, his chin falls towards his chest and he looks up at us through his fringe with sad-dog eyes.
‘Right, out to the car, please, boys. I want to speak to your father for a second.’
Kate’s disciplinarian voice is so much more effective than mine and the boys respond immediately, Gabriel putting the book back on the shelf and then walking out of the school with his brother following closely behind, heads hung and in silence, towards the car. I’m not sure Finn realizes he’s not even the one in trouble.
When the boys are far enough ahead of us that they can’t hear anything, I’m expecting a tongue-lashing for embarrassing Kate in front of Mrs Newman, but instead, she turns to me with an almost childlike fear in her eyes.
‘Do you really think it’s the engagement? I thought he really loved Jerry. That it would feel more secure for him if we were married, so he knows Jerry’s not going anywhere.’
And this is one of the many reasons my ex-wife is an infinitely better person than me. Not only does she turn the lens on herself instead of blaming other, much more obvious targets (i.e. me, flaky dad), she does it openly, in front of the person who just humiliated her. She makes me want to be a better person. And I almost manage it. I feel the comforting words she deserves tiptoe across my lips, but I can’t quite bring myself to say them.
‘Maybe he was just saying he liked him because he knew you’d be upset if he didn’t? He’s a sensitive kid like that. It wouldn’t surprise me.’
‘Has he ever said anything to you about not liking him?’
I’m so tempted to lie, but even I’m not quite that morally unsound. ‘Well, no, not in so many words, but he knows I’d tell you so he might not say anything to me either.’
It’s not officially a lie, but I know I should have told her all the good things Gabe says about Jerry.
Kate’s face is full of anguish. ‘I hope it’s not that. I don’t think it can be, can it?’
I can see she’s on the verge of tears and feel the guilt seeping through my bones like the cold on a frosty day. ‘Let me talk to him. I’ll try to get to the bottom of it. We’ll sort something out, don’t worry.’
I place my hand in the dip of her lower back but she barely notices me. I can see on her face how terrified she is at the prospect that something she’s done has upset the boys, and I hate myself that it makes me feel slightly hopeful – that maybe this could be the catalyst for the demise of her relationship with Jerry. She catches up with the boys and leads Finn to the car whilst I take Gabe to sit on a nearby bench.
‘So, what’s going on, buddy?’
Gabriel shrugs, his eyes focused on his feet.
‘I’m not cross. I just want to know how you’re feeling. Why you’re feeling angry. Do you know?’
He nods, but doesn’t speak.
‘Is it about Mummy getting married?’
Waiting for his answer is like waiting to hear the results of a critical blood test.
Finally, he says, ‘I’m angry with Mummy for saying yes when Jerry asked her.’
I nod, hoping he might elaborate, but he doesn’t.
‘Do you like Jerry?’
It shows what an awful person I am just how badly I want him to say no.
Instead, he says, ‘I do like him. I’m really excited about the wedding. Well, sort of.’
‘So what’s up?’
Gabriel lifts his head and looks me right in the eyes. ‘I’m angry with Mummy for making you sad.’
Not knowing what to do with my face, I search for an alternative focal point and settle on a red car with a number plate that spells BUM. It’s the only thing that stops me from blubbering like a baby.
‘Why do you think I’m sad?’ I ask, still not looking at him.
‘I can just tell. I’m very wise, you know, Daddy.’
I put my hands on his cheeks – my beautiful, sensitive, insightful little boy. ‘You are very wise. But you don’t need to worry about me, OK? Of course it’s a bit strange for me that Mummy is getting married again and, you’re right, I did feel a bit sad at first, but I’m fine now.’
Gabriel pulls away from me and sits up straight. ‘Will you come to the wedding? Please, Daddy.’
I can’t think of anything worse than watching Jerry’s self-satisfied face as he makes his vows to my wife (for that is still how I see her). But how can I say no when my son is reaching out to me?
‘Sure. We can bust some moves on the dance floor together and make ourselves sick with the chocolate fountain.’
Gabriel’s face breaks into a smile for the first time since we picked him up. ‘Can I tell Mummy you’re coming?’
‘Yeah, fine. Now be kind to her, OK, buddy? She’s an amazing mummy and you’re very lucky to have her. I’m fine. I’m happy for her.’
Before I have a chance to give him a kiss, Gabe runs to the car and climbs in. I give Kate a thumbs up and gesture with my hand that I’ll call her. She mouths ‘Thank you’ and then they drive off, and I stand there wondering what the hell I’ve just agreed to.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘You’re back?’ Mimi puts her hands on her hips.
‘Yeah. They hired this judgemental barmaid at the other pub I started going to who kept giving me grief about getting drunk and going home with a different woman each night, so I thought I’d sack it off and come back here.’
Mimi smiles. ‘She sounds like a total pain in the arse.’
‘She was.’ I climb onto the bar stool. ‘Plus, I thought perhaps you fancied coming home with me again?’
I’m breaking my rules, I know. But watching Kate drive away with my kids, back to her fiancé … right at this moment, sex with Mimi is what I need. I don’t want to analyse it. It’s like needing to scratch an itch or needing to eat when you’re hungry. You don’t think about it. You just do it.
‘And I thought you were a safe bet. Don’t tell me not even you are immune to my sexual prowess?’
‘It would seem not.’
Mimi runs her hand through her red hair, her fringe immediately bobbing back across her eye. ‘I enjoyed the other night, Noah. I really did. But, honestly, why do you want me to go home with you? Besides the obvious.’ She smiles.
Because I’m scared of sitting in my flat alone with only my thoughts for company.
‘I don’t know. A bit of fun, that’s all. Meaningless sex, that’s what you called it, wasn’t it?’
Mimi screws up her face. ‘It’s just the kids, the issues with your ex-wife … the one time was nice, don’t get me wrong, but it’s all a
bit complicated for me. And I don’t think you really want to have sex with me either. I mean, no more than you want to have sex with any of the women in here.’
We both look around the pub. There’s a group of what looks like the school mum brigade on one table and an elderly woman sat with her husband at another.
I tilt my head towards the octogenarian. ‘Well, maybe a bit more than with her.’
Mimi laughs. ‘I’m doing you a favour really. Men have this horrible habit of falling in love with me and then when I tell them I’m not looking for a relationship, it always breaks their hearts.’
‘Is that right?’
She pours me a JD and Coke and pushes it towards me.
‘So how come you’re so anti-commitment, anyway?’ I ask, taking a large sip.
‘With you? Well, where shall I start?’
‘Very funny. You know what I mean.’
Mimi reaches into her pocket and gets out her phone, tapping on something before holding it out for me to see. It’s a travel app showing the countdown of 156 days until a trip of some sort. ‘I’m going travelling. I’ve only booked the first bit so far but I’m going to start in India and then explore more of Asia. Depends how much money I can save by then if I travel on to Australia or not.’
Despite there being only about a five-year age gap between us, at times like this Mimi seems so much younger than me.
‘Sounds good.’
‘Did you ever do the whole backpacking thing?’ she asks.
I shake my head. ‘I got married young. We knew we wanted kids pretty quick so all our money went on getting a mortgage. There wasn’t really a chance.’
Mimi looks thoughtful, and I wonder if she pities me. I’ve not exactly made it sound very exciting. But in reality it was. Saving up for our very own house together, getting the keys and eating chips out of the paper on the kitchen floor because we didn’t yet have a table or tableware. Finding out Kate was pregnant and ruminating on what our child would look like, which of our personality traits he or she would have.
