Barefoot

by Daisy Burton

  The girls had first dibs on anything they wanted of their father’s, of course. They hadn’t taken much but they had both known in advance exactly what they wanted: his watch, an old jumper, a pen-knife their grandfather had given to him, his guitars (Alex was already an excellent musician like her father, so Sal was determined she should take them) and a little stylised silver bird ornament that they’d clubbed together their pocket money to give him for his 40th birthday, when they were still quite little. Sal was surprised at how little they wanted of his, but she made sure they had all his photo albums. He had put together dozens, including those of his parents, his childhood and early photos of them all as a family when the girls were little. She knew that although they might not care for them now, when they were older, they would cherish them.

  Thankfully, Sal was on her own when she found a big cardboard box at the back of Marsh’s previously over-stuffed wardrobe. She’d never ventured in there before, apart from hanging things up because it was packed so full. She didn’t recognise the box and her stomach instinctively lurched as she uncovered it. It had been pushed right to the back, behind suits and trousers that hung down and obscured it from view, so she felt both curious and concerned as she untied the knotted string that held it tightly shut.

  Right at the top of the box, she found a stash of every card she’d ever sent him, along with the few letters she’d written to him when they were first together. She had no idea that he’d kept every single one. Valentines, birthdays, Christmas, miss you cards, anniversary cards; you name it, they were all there. Even their ticket stubs from all their travels together. He hadn’t been a sentimental man, so it felt as if a huge water balloon had exploded over her when she found it.

  Oh Marshy.

  She wept for what seemed like ages, reading through them, and remembering each occasion vividly. It struck her for the first time, reading them in order, that it was obvious how her affection had changed over those four years. How she’d taken much less care over her writing and her choice of words as time had gone on.

  Following the condensed journey of their relationship, she realised that they’d both been as bad as each other in letting the affection slide.

  Surely that’s a normal part of relationships, isn’t it? she tried to persuade herself. Isn’t everyone like that?

  Even she had to admit that this was more than ‘a calming down’, and a small part of her could see why Marsh had been tempted away. He should never have strayed the way he did, but for the first time, she realised that she’d had a part to play in keeping their relationship alive, and she had lapsed for too long. She sat for a while wondering what had possessed her to get so comfortable so quickly in the one relationship that meant so much to her.

  She hadn’t considered what else might be in the box, until she’d looked through each card and letter. Those cardboard walls held their most precious memories, and it was incredibly hard, yet compelling, to look through. She decided to go through it properly at her own house when she had more time because she’d spent far too long on the box that day. She was about to put everything back in, when she noticed an unopened envelope on the floor. It must have been on top of the other cards and fallen out of the box when she’d opened it because she hadn’t seen it until then. Unlike the others, it had her name written on the front, and it didn’t have that aged look that paper sometimes gets when it’s been left. It couldn’t have been there that long. She knew that handwriting, and her heart began to pound. A letter to her from Marsh that she hadn’t seen?

  Trembling, she tore it open and began to read. It was long and undated.

  “My darling Pumpkin, Sallie. I know it’s been said before, but if you’re reading this, then I’m no longer around. I guess it’s the one thing I didn’t fuck up then. Ha.

  I don’t know when you’ll find this, but hopefully it’s now years down the line. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have, and you hopefully already know what I’m going to tell you. Maybe you’ll have already seen your way to forgiving me. Maybe not. I don’t blame you if not. I wouldn’t forgive me. I can’t.

  You’re staying at Jess’s right now, and I don’t know if you’re ever going to come back, but it might be best if you don’t. Maire rang me at home today, and told me she’s just found out she’s pregnant and it’s obviously mine. I don’t know if she’s slept with anyone else, but I am so sorry that I have been weak, pathetic and dishonest. I lied to you when I said I didn’t have sex with her. I have been having an affair with her, on and off for about two years, since the 1998 Irish tour. She is young and fiery and a part of me is really stuck on her, but I love you, and I always have, Sal. Please don’t ever think I don’t, because you know me better than anyone.”

  Sal snorted at that point, through her tears.

  “She is so upset that I went off with you at the New Year’s party that she says I can’t be a part of my baby’s life. My kids are such a big part of me, you know that. I already love that child and I can’t stand the thought I won’t see it. Ever. She is a bitch and it’s clear that she doesn’t love me and she’ll do anything she can to hurt me. It’s made me see that I don’t love her anymore either ...”

  Anymore? Sal sobbed harder – angry, painful tears. He had loved Maire for half of their relationship – right back when Sal had thought everything was going great between them. She put the letter down for a few minutes, so she could catch her breath. All of her reasoning earlier that day about her part in this, now applied so much less. He had clearly never properly loved her, which was a kick in the teeth for Sal.

  Part of her didn’t want to read any further, but she couldn’t stop herself.

  “… maybe I never did. And I know for a fact that you won’t ever be able to forgive me for all this – for lying, as well as being fully unfaithful with her, for so long. Any possibility there ever was of me getting you back has gone, I know that. I have ended up losing everything that matters to me – including my girls. I swore to you on their lives that I’d been faithful. What sort of father does that? They will never forgive me either, and they’ll see the pathetic excuse for a man that their father is. They, you, and the world, will be better off without me.

  Like the coward I am, I will hide this away, so that by the time you find it, hopefully years will have passed. You’ll be settled again, and you might have moved on with someone better, who will love you the way you deserve. Whatever you’re doing, I truly hope you’re happy and you’ve recovered from the shit way I treated you.

  Sal, please know that I’m so very, very sorry.

  I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you how I’ve been feeling because I couldn’t explain fully, and I didn’t think you would be able to understand. I’m sorry that I let you down so badly. I’m sorry that I lied, cheated and disrespected your love and honesty. You are the best person I’ve ever known, and I don’t deserve you. I can’t carry on feeling like I’ve destroyed all the good in my life.

  I know the band will have had no trouble finding someone to replace me, and they will be carrying on without me. That’s okay. I’m not under any illusions there – I am easily replaceable.

  I know you’ll be looking after Alex and Blue for me – you’re great with them and they look to you for good advice. Better than I could give them, anyway. Maybe you will know the new baby by now too, but I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t want anything to do with it. But if you have got to know that child, you will be a great influence in its life. You have a wonderful, open and kind heart.

  Please find it in that beautiful heart to forgive me. I have never stopped loving you, no matter what it might look like. I hope you have been living in our house, having lovely long holidays, seeing the world, and living a happy life. You deserve it.

  Goodbye, Pumpkin. I love you forever. Please believe that.

  Your Marsh. xxxx

  Sal sat staring into space after reading the letter. She had no idea how long she sat there for, but when she came to, it w
as starting to get dark outside. She felt as if she should be furious, raging at everything, kicking walls and swearing into the air, or sobbing for hours, but she wasn’t; she felt nothing but overwhelming calm.

  Her only sadness was realising that Marsh had been so despairing while she was away that he had clearly killed himself in a pre-meditated way. He must have known he was going to do it the night she came home – early – from Jess’s. They had that one lovely night together where they’d slept entwined together and then he’d got up and driven into that concrete wall and metal post on purpose. There could be no other explanation, now. He’d planned it, and he’d carried it out.

  Maybe she would have been able to forgive him, she honestly couldn’t tell, but he hadn’t given her that opportunity. He had been in such a terrible place that he couldn’t see anything clearly and he had genuinely believed that the world would be better off without him. What an awful way for anyone to die, let alone a man she had loved. He’d had no idea of what a hole he would leave in so many lives. He’d been too lost in his pain to realise how loved he was by so many people. People who would be destroyed if they knew he’d done this.

  It was strange that, as well as the horror and sadness, the letter also brought her comfort. Now, at least, she knew that Maire’s baby was almost definitely his, and she could ensure that it was given a share of his estate in trust. There was no anger in her. She had dealt with so much after his death that she felt nothing but sadness and pity that he had been hurting so badly, when she had assumed that he had been feeling nothing.

  The box next to her took on even more meaning now, and she picked it up, holding it close against her. That letter couldn’t stay in the box, though. Sal made the decision there and then to tell no one else about it. Not Jess, and not Doug. It was her secret to keep, and other people would either be terribly hurt by it or they would judge Marsh and change their view of him. Sal wasn’t prepared to be responsible for either of those things.

  She thought deeply about what it might do to Alex and Blue to find out that their dad had killed himself – that he’d left them on purpose, without thinking of them. From all they’d said during their long talks about him since his death, the one thing that had helped them through it was that he hadn’t wanted to go, he’d been taken brutally away. She couldn’t ruin that for them, and she couldn’t risk telling anyone else, in case the girls somehow found out. More than anything, she resolved never to let Blue and Alex suffer more than they already had.

  For two days, she holed up in her house, trying to deal with the guilt that she hadn’t seen how bad Marsh had been feeling. When she’d come home from Jess’s, he had been in such a state. Rubbish everywhere, clothes strewn around and he’d taken no personal care of himself. She’d thought at the time that it was unlike him, but she hadn’t thought about it any further. She should have seen how he was feeling; done something to help him. She was so caught up in seeing her sister that morning that she hadn’t given him a second thought. What if she had? Would he be here now?

  Sal stroked Lawrence’s belly as he stretched out in a ray of sunshine streaming through the half-drawn curtains. He rolled around enjoying the attention. Maybe Marsh had talked to the cat, about his feelings. Maybe Lawrence had known everything all along. If only she had known, too.

  That feeling of guilt would live with her forever, despite knowing that his death wasn’t her responsibility. She wouldn’t want the girls to have to deal with that awful knowledge, so she decided to take action. She had read and re-read the letter so often that she knew it almost by heart. Her mind was made up.

  She grabbed a ceramic bowl, put the letter in it and ceremoniously set fire to it with a lighter. As she watched the flames licking around it, she experienced a level of peace that she hadn’t expected. Satisfaction washed over her as she watched it disappear. Marsh’s words were literally going up in smoke and it felt good to know that no one else would ever know the truth.

  Sal would have to live with it for the rest of her life.

  24

  By the time Sal had finished sorting through Marsh’s belongings, there wasn’t much left in the ‘to keep’ pile. She’d held onto a few things in case the girls wanted any of them later on, but she was now well past the point of wanting many for herself. She had everything she wanted of his – mainly the jewellery he’d bought her, an old t-shirt she couldn’t bring herself to part with, and his box of memories. The rest was being dumped, donated or stored for future auctioning.

  She was on her knees scrubbing the kitchen cabinets at Marsh’s place and enjoying the feeling that this house would soon be off her hands, when the doorbell rang. She swore as she got up too quickly, banging her head on the top of the cupboard, and she rubbed it as she made her way to the door.

  “SIS!”

  It was apparently Mel. She pushed past the still-dazed Sal, and plonked herself unceremoniously down onto the sofa.

  “Wow, it’s so empty in here! Doesn’t it look different!” Mel was always good at stating the blindingly obvious.

  “Well, yes, I’m packing, so obviously it’s empty,” Sal sighed, joining her on the sofa. She was really not feeling up to making small talk. “I’m moving back to my place at the end of the week, you know that. Then this goes on the market on Monday. Actually, I’m in the middle of scrubbing cupboards, want to help?”

  “I’ll stick the kettle on then – is it still there?” Mel walked into the kitchen and saw that it was about the only thing left on the counter, together with two mugs. “Perfect.”

  Sal was too weary to argue, so she put her feet up on the sofa, willing her head to stop pounding.

  “You okay, then?” Mel brought in the steaming mugs and was perched on the edge of the sofa, looking wide-eyed and grinning. It was clear there was some burning issue she wanted to share.

  “I’m fine, other than a headache. Come on, out with it. What’ve you done?”

  “Well that’s charming, that is,” Mel grinned even wider. “I haven’t done anything. Not yet anyway. But me and Kate, we’re buying a little house …”

  “Oh Mel, that’s fantastic news. I’m so pleased!” Sal went to get up and hug her sister.

  “… in Derbyshire,” Mel added, after a deliberate pause.

  “Sorry?” Sal stopped mid-hug, convinced she hadn’t heard right.

  “I said in Derbyshire!” Mel beamed. “Kate’s dad lives up there with her step-mum and he’s giving us the deposit.”

  “I thought…” Sal started, confused.

  “No, it’s her mum and stepdad who live down here.”

  “Oh, I see. Okay, well as long as it’s what you really want?” Sal smiled a genuine smile, but her eyes were sad and her heart sank. She was getting a lot of practise at putting on a brave face lately.

  “It really is what I want, sis. Ashbourne is a lovely area and we’re going up this weekend to look at a place he’s seen. Her dad wants us to be close to him, and you’re busy with your life now. We don’t see as much of each other as we used to, and you can always come and stay - we’ll have a spare room! Hopefully, we can come and stay at yours too? If you like…”

  “Yes, of course I like. You’re always welcome, you daft lummocks. Both of you are, you should know that.”

  Sal felt as if Mel’s life had moved on so much without her knowing, but then, Sal was keeping her own secrets now. She’d been so tied up with the seemingly unending traumatic events in her own life, she’d dropped the sisterly ball. As long as Mel was genuinely happy - which she seemed to be - and she wasn’t making a terrible mistake, then Sal was happy for her. It was unlike her little sister to make so many changes and to step outside of the security of their home town. In that sense, Sal was impressed.

  “And before you say it,” Mel interjected. “Kate’s already got a job up there. She starts next month, and I’ve applied for one. Interview’s next week.”

  “Wow, you’ve got it all covered. I didn’t realise it was so much underway, but
I’m so happy for you, Mel. I’ll miss you though, and so will Lawrence.”

  “I’ll miss you both too. But we’ll be fine, sis. Isn’t that what you always say?”

  *****

  Marsh’s house took no time to sell; in fact, Sal was surprised that it completed so quickly and seamlessly. Still, by that time her own home was ready to be lived in.

  It was time for a new phase in her life.

  Freshly decorated, carpeted, complete with a redesigned kitchen and two beautiful, fresh bathrooms, her own house felt almost like new. It had retained that lovely feeling she’d felt when she lived in it before, though and it felt like home immediately. She had done the right thing.

  Mel and Kate had both been fantastic during the move, although Jess had been conspicuous in her absence. Sal was simply too busy to worry about Jess, though, and she couldn’t help feeling that their friendship was changing. Whenever Doug was around - which admittedly wasn’t that often with the spring tours in full force - he appeared laden with doughnuts, pastries or a takeaway and a willingness to mop, scrub, lift and lug. He and Sal slotted easily into that comfortable feeling they’d fostered in Devon, and they worked together without the need for much communication. There was hardly a cross word during the entire move, even when she was tired, dusty and grumpy.

  Which was often.

  *****

  Standing in the hallway of the empty house she had shared with Marsh, keys and handbag in hand, Sal looked around. She was determined to leave all the pain here, where it had happened. She wanted to try to close the door on as much of it as she could, and leave it behind. She’d tried to remind herself as the movers had packed up the final bits of furniture, that she and Marsh had spent a lot of happy times in this house to begin with.