When We Are Old (If We Were... Book 2)

by Anna Bloom

  “Ring me. I’d like to speak to you properly.”

  “Sure. I will.” I turned so my shoulder was facing Hannah. “We might stay another week.”

  Ange howled with laughter, making everyone look at her again. She patted her hair into place and straightened herself up. “Have you told your mummy yet?”

  “Well, no.”

  Ange shook her head and then leant in to glance a kiss off my cheek. “You are crazy, you know that?”

  I smiled and pushed back, but with the new eyes I saw her with since I’d realised what she’d done all these years ago, I wondered if it may be her that was crazy and not me.

  “I know, I know.” I cringed at my response. Good old Ronnie returning to form.

  “Come on, Hannah, we need to get back.”

  “Something exciting planned?”

  “Date night.”

  “Date night with three kids? Hannah can stay with me if you like, now I’m actually close enough to hand to help out again.”

  Hannah’s face lit up like Christmas, but I hesitated. “Can I, Mum?”

  “Aw, Hannah, I think Ewan and Jack will be waiting for you.”

  Ange’s shoulders dropped and guilt stabbed deep in my stomach. Because I was a wimp, and hated hurting people I mouthed, “Next week,” to her as I grabbed my bag. She nodded, but she knew I lied.

  “Come on, Han, let’s go.” And with very little joy, knowing I’d be dragging a sulking fourteen-year-old home with me, I turned to my date night.

  Turned out I didn’t have to worry about it. When I knocked on Matthew’s lavender front door there were loud shouts coming from the other side.

  Hannah and I cast worried looks at one another. “Maybe Scots do dates differently?” Hannah said.

  Her joke barely filtered into my brain.

  I recognised the second voice, had held onto it for far too long. Julie.

  She’d always spoken like the whole world was listening to her, booming her opinions into the space of my silence. Now I knew who her dad was, Craig McStandish, it made complete sense.

  I hadn’t heard her speak in fifteen years, but her tone still drilled into my bones.

  “It’s a holiday, the kids deserve it,” she screeched.

  “No, Julie. Not like this they don’t. You know I can’t go with you anywhere and it’s not fair for you to ask them.” Matthew spoke with the hardened snap of the businessman in the suit.

  “Please, Daddy. Please, just for a couple of days.” I recognised Jack and with his pleading I guessed what they were arguing about. Julie wanted them to go away, together, all of them.

  Did divorced couples do that?

  My heart sank. If we went in now it would make it worse. Would fire up Julie, would make Matthew even more frazzled.

  “Mum?” Hannah elbowed me, but I stood rooted to the spot. I wanted so much to breeze in and stand by Matthew’s side, but the old fear of being wrong wrapped its vines of uncertainty around my feet and held me back.

  I didn’t know what would be right.

  What would be wrong.

  Matthew was having a row with his ex-wife, the mother of his children. It wasn’t my place to argue with that.

  “Why can’t you come, Matthew?” Julie’s voice screeched with glass-shattering heights, but behind it, behind her question, I could sense a taunting superiority. It made my heart weigh heavy in my immobilised chest. “You aren’t working. You don’t have anything better to do.”

  “Who is it?” Hannah cut into my eavesdropping.

  “Shh.”

  I waited for him to answer, waited for him to say that I was here, and I was getting to know the kids.

  “I’m working on the shop, you know that.”

  “Ah, the shop. Always the shop with you.”

  No, he was working me over… at least he should have been.

  “Julie, don’t.” He sounded exhausted.

  “Please, Daddy. Please,” Jack whined.

  There was another pause and then a sigh. “Okay. I’ll pack a bag.”

  “See, Jack.” Julie laughed. “Your daddy always knows the right thing to do.”

  My heart and I listened and it turned black.

  Matthew always did the right thing for everyone. Apart from himself, and if I were being brutally honest, apart from me.

  “Come on, Hannah. Let’s go and see if we can track down Angela.”

  “But, Mum—”

  “No. I don’t want to disturb them all if they're having problems. Anyway, it sounds like Matthew is busy now.”

  “Mum, I don’t think—”

  “Hannah. Let’s go. I don’t want to see her.” I pulled Hannah down the short path and onto the main road before Julie could open the door and laugh in my face. Then I remembered I had Matthew’s keys. I darted back up the path with the stealth of a jaguar, left them on the mat and sprang back down it again.

  “Come on. Let’s see if she fancies pizza.” I tried to smile, but it stretched all awkward.

  “Mum, you know he’s divorced right?” Hannah pushed back so she could see me better.

  “I know. But marriages don’t end cleanly, Hannah. And I’d say if she’s in his house asking for a family holiday, then it's hardly over at all.”

  This was the truth.

  I hadn’t seen him the whole of last week after she’d called and made him come back to Scotland. Now just over a week later, she was back and changing his plans with the merest suggestion.

  Matthew loved to please everyone apart from himself. That much I knew. I just wished I didn’t.

  I looked twice at the building Ange had given us for an address. Paint peeled from the window frames. The window held enough grime to stop passers-by from being able to peer in.

  “Well lookie here.”

  Ange leant against the door frame, a cigarette in her hand.

  “Oh, don’t make a thing.” I waved her with my hand.

  “I can only make a thing if it’s a thing.” She smirked. “Is it a thing? Is it the end of Ronnie and Matthew when they’ve only just begun?”

  She joked, but it made bile rise up my throat.

  “He was just talking to Ewan and Jack’s mum that’s all.” Hannah shouldered past me into the gloomy hallway. The evenings were getting lighter now, with the warm days of spring stretching the days, but inside was dark.

  “I suppose I should be grateful. Six years I’ve lived here, and this is the first time you’ve visited.”

  “Question is,” I said, peering past her. “Have you cleaned in the last six years?”

  “You know, you sound more and more like your mother every time I see you.”

  “I do not.” Down the hallway we turned into a small lounge with an overstuffed sofa and seventies teak coffee table holding a bottle of wine and a glass half full. I couldn’t help but notice on the floor next to the sofa stood another empty bottle. That couldn’t be from tonight? We’d only left her thirty minutes ago.

  She threw herself down and stubbed out her cigarette, waving the smoke away from Hannah. “Come on then, tell me what happened?”

  I shot a glance at Hannah, surprised to find her stare focused on me too. “Aunty Ange, can I use your toilet?” she asked.

  “Sure, out on the right. You can’t miss it, there aren’t many rooms to choose from.” Ange forced a smile with her words.

  Once Hannah had left, she turned straight to me. “So, come on. Then I can tell you I told you so.”

  I really didn’t want her to tell me I told you so, but she did, and I ignored her, angry as I was at the unravelling of our friendship.

  “We got back, and Julie was there.”

  “Oooh, jealous ex.” Ange automatically reached for her packet of smokes and tapped them on the arm of the sofa.

  “I don’t think she’s got anything to be jealous of. I don’t think she knows I exist.”

  Ange’s mouth fell open. “He must have told her; he’s been seeing you for weeks.”

  I shr
ugged. “I guess I did think he would, but then it’s also weird that she hasn’t been odd about me seeing the kids. I mean, if she’s as unbalanced as everyone thinks, then wouldn’t she have put rules in place?” I stared off at the wall while I pondered everything. “I mean, I’ve never dated anyone before, not with kids. I don’t know how it works. But I suppose if Paul was alive and we were separated,” my stomach clenched, “then he might have rules in place.”

  Ange sparked up another cigarette, not caring she’d just finished one. My mother was right, they were going to kill her one day. “I told you all along. Matthew is set to break your heart.”

  “Hasn’t stopped you trying it on with him, though has it, Ange?” Oooh. The words just slipped out.

  “He made it sound much worse than it was. It was only a couple of times in passing, and the last time it was quite obvious he was still fanatically overly interested in you.”

  “I can’t believe you kept it from me. I’ve trusted you my whole life, since we met. I’ve always trusted you.”

  Ange met my gaze. “I know.”

  “So why did you do it then? I was bloody miserable for so long. I married the wrong man, Ange. Do you get that? I married the wrong man.”

  “Oh no, that doesn’t stop at my door. You married a safe man and you made yourself and Paul miserable. Don’t you think Paul deserved more?”

  “Since when do you care?”

  She stared at the coffee table, but then shook her head and shot me her Ange 'winning smile'. “Anyway, can’t we just have a do over?”

  “A do over?”

  She laughed, throwing her head back, much more the Ange I’d always had in my life. “So, really, you ran away from Matthew, the week after he ran away from you? I’m seeing a trend.”

  “I didn’t run away. I just didn’t want to face Julie, and I didn’t want him to have to upset his kids because of me. If he needs to go on a family holiday, then I guess that’s just what he needs to do.”

  “Oh my god. You are such a bloody walkover.” Ange reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight. “When are you going to start fighting? She’s his ex. He left her the moment he found out Paul had died. Now I’m not saying that’s right, because if we think about it closely, I think we both know it was wrong.”

  “He was unhappy, Ange. She ruined him.”

  She waved her hand, like the slow turning of a clock. “And you just walked away and left him in her grasp.”

  The truth of her words filtered into my brain, one tiny drop at a time.

  “God, I’m such a dick. He’s just asked Hannah and I to stay too.”

  Ange had just taken a deep drag of her cigarette and she coughed, clutching at her chest. “Stay? In what capacity?”

  “Permanently, I think.”

  “And you said…”

  “Mum?” Hannah called from the door. I hadn’t heard her step back in. “You aren’t thinking of us living here, are you? What about your work? My school?”

  I chewed on my bottom lip and met Ange’s gaze. “I said all of those things.”

  My friend cringed. “You said those things and then left him to the wily plans of his demented ex-wife?”

  Oh God. I had.

  “Mum, we can’t stay here. I have to get back to Ana, and…”

  “Jackson?” I lifted an eyebrow.

  “They have boys in Scotland too, you know?” Ange added. “But it does strike me as way too fast. And his ex clearly has a firm grip. You never know, they might still have feelings there.” Ange’s words were sheer torment. They burned me deep down.

  Hannah was oblivious and kept talking. “Yes. But do they have a Ma and a best friend and my school and my teachers, and all the other things I’ve known all my life?” She brushed her hair out of her face. “And what about your business? You’ve worked so hard on that since Dad died.”

  I looked at her, my stomach heavy.

  Scotland had none of those things. But it did have Matthew.

  And right then my heart fractured clean in two, because I knew there was no chance of this ever working out.

  Not ever.

  My phone rang, Matthew's face flashing up on the screen. But in my heart, I knew the truth. There were too many things against us, and we still hadn’t even had one date.

  Home Fires

  Matthew

  “Where the fuck is she?” I kicked at the bin in the kitchen. It was totally stupid and it didn’t make me feel even the slightest bit better.

  “Just calm down, she’ll be back.” Ryan swung back on one of the kitchen chairs—one of these days he would land flat on his arse and Mam would tell him she’d told him so.

  “She’s run from me before.”

  Ryan snorted and sipped at his tea. “You’re both certifiable flight risks if you ask me.”

  “Yes, but I know she was here. She left the keys on the front step, which means she must have known Julie was here.” My cheeks flushed and Ryan evaluated me.

  “Well Julie is the boys' mother. I think Ronnie can be reasonable about that. She strikes me as a sensible woman, apart from fancying your canny ass of course. What aren’t you telling me?”

  I sighed deep, pulling the exhalation from my tight muscles. “Julie said she’d booked us a family holiday: me, her, and the boys.”

  Ryan swallowed his tea down hard. “She’s a nutcase, Matt.”

  “Yes, but let’s not forget that I made her that way by marrying her when I shouldn’t have done.”

  “That’s bullshit and you can’t keep blaming yourself for it. She knew the deal between Dad and McStandish before you got married—it’s none of our faults if she didn’t see it for what it was.”

  I so wanted to believe him, but I knew the blame was mine, no matter what anyone said.

  “I think Ronnie must have heard Julie. It’s the only reason I can think she’s gone like this.”

  “But you told Julie no, right?”

  “Of course, I fucking did. But she wound the boys up like she always does. Jack was on one thinking we were all going away.”

  Ryan shook his head. “It’s not fair the way she uses those kids when she wants or needs something.”

  I nodded, but again I knew the blame laid with me. I didn’t bother to answer.

  Ryan carried on, painting the truth in vivid colours. “So let me get this right. Your beautiful, sexy, for-some-reason-thinks-the-sun-shines-out-of-your-jacksy, new girlfriend thinks you are going on a family holiday with your psychotic ex-wife?”

  “Aye, that sums it up.”

  “You’re the biggest loser I know. Go get her.”

  “Why didn’t she knock on the door and tell me she was here?”

  “Fucking hell, mate, you aren’t that smart. Imagine if her husband was still alive, was an ex instead of a ghost; how would you compete against him who’d had her so long?”

  “She was mine first.” The words practically growled from me.

  “Then make her yours again.”

  “I asked her to stay. To live here with me and the boys.”

  Ryan cocked his head to the side. “Funny that you haven’t thought of moving there.”

  “I couldn’t. What about the shop? And Mam?”

  “Jesus, dickwad, there are enough of us as it is to look after Mam, and you know full well if she heard you saying stuff like that, she’d clip you around the ear. And forget about the stupid fucking shop.”

  “But what about the boys? I’d never leave them.”

  “No one is asking you to. Fight for them. No court would give Nutty Julie sole custody if they knew what she got up to.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t. It’s not that easy.”

  Ryan shrugged. “So, then what do you want Ronnie to say?”

  He had me there. I didn’t have an answer.

  “I want her to say she loves me enough to move planets, let alone country.”

  “Go find her first. It’s the only way to start.”

  “No. Fi
rst, I need to make a call.” Walking away from Ryan I stepped out into the small garden. The evening air wrapped warm around me. I knew spring would finally come, and there was Ronnie thinking Scotland permanently lived under a never-ending winter. The big worry now, was whether she would stay to see it.

  Liam answered with a barely registered grumble.

  “Liam, it’s me. Can I borrow the cottage for a couple of days?”

  “Aye-up, this must be serious if you want to borrow the 'Love Cottage'.”

  I chuckled, and the easing of the tightening in my gut helped me breathe. “Well, can I?”

  “Who’s going to have the boys?”

  I hesitated and bit my lip. I promised Ronnie a date, but I also had to set a precedent of what we would always be, a blend of me and her, of both of our lives.

  “They are coming with.”

  “Laddy, you need to work on your romance.”

  “Shut up. Can I come and get the keys?”

  “Sure, sure, just make sure you wash the bedding and leave it how you found it.”

  “Thanks, Liam.”

  “Oh, and also, make sure Ronnie checks in at work. That twat that works for her is on a power trip.” My hackles shot up at the mention of Fred of Skinny Jeans fame.

  “Okay. Anything she needs to know about tonight?”

  “No, only that Hector McDougall has got a right bee up his kilt.

  “Dad’s friend?” I tried to place the name. “Doesn’t he own all those tourist shops with the cheap tartan and other knock offs?”

  “Yeah. Fred has told him he can’t sell Tartan as authentic Scottish produce if it’s made in Bangladesh.”

  I chuckled and rubbed the back of my neck looking up at the darkening sky. “I’ll speak to her,” I said, but what I meant was that I would mention it in passing while I grovelled on my knees for her not to think I was still with my ex-wife.

  Why Ronnie would think that I had no idea.

  I thought I’d made my intentions very clear.

  This was Ronnie though, and I knew her voices inside would rise as quick as my dark clouds could roll over a perfect day.