The Missing Husband

by Natasha Boydell

  But then one day he came into work early so that he could prepare for a big client meeting. He’d hardly spoken to Kate the evening before, she’d been busy looking for new kitchen tiles on Pinterest, and this morning she’d busied herself with the kids and barely said two words to him. That was nothing unusual in their household but for some reason he was brooding over it today. Maybe because the country was in the grip of a late summer heatwave and all he wanted to do was loosen his tie, sit in a beer garden and drink ice-cold lager but instead he was dealing with three grumpy females who acted like they didn’t even notice he was there, yet got shitty with him when he wasn’t.

  As he walked into the foyer, he saw Claire sitting at the reception desk eating her breakfast and looking pristine in a sleeveless silk top, a stark contrast to his crumpled shirt, damp with sweat from the sweltering commute. She looked up at him in surprise, which she quickly transformed into a professional smile and suddenly he had a compulsive urge to talk to her, to have a conversation with someone that wasn’t about builders’ quotes, parents’ evenings or bed wetting.

  ‘You’re in early,’ she said, looking a bit sheepish. She wasn’t supposed to eat while working on the front desk, not that he cared.

  ‘Client meeting, loads to prepare,’ he told her. He looked at her croissant. ‘That looks good,’ he said, and his tummy rumbled as if on cue. She laughed, tore a large piece off and offered it to him, which he took gratefully. The warm, sticky pastry gave him a sudden rush of pleasure and he found he didn’t want to leave. He leaned against the desk, propped up by one elbow, and they fell into an easy conversation.

  Claire was sharp and funny. She was twenty-seven, lived in Wimbledon and liked to travel as much as possible, she told him. She enjoyed temping because she didn’t want to commit to anywhere long term. She particularly liked working on reception because she got to people-watch all day. She was clearly intelligent, the type of person who would probably be good at any job they were given but work to her was simply a means to earn enough money to go on her next adventure. After a decade of toeing the line – working his way up the career ladder, getting married and having kids – he loved her attitude. He didn’t think he’d done a single impulsive thing since he bought a last-minute plane ticket to visit Kate in Thailand when she went travelling the summer after they graduated from university. Christ, how long ago had that been?

  ‘I’m living vicariously through you,’ he told her with a grin when she regaled him with tales of what she’d been up to over the weekend, getting tipsy in the champagne bar at St Pancras Station and jumping on the Eurostar to Paris for a night just for the hell of it. Maybe it was a midlife crisis, sad and stereotypical as it was, but he found himself feeling undeniably envious of her carefree life, so far removed was he from it. Before he knew it, half an hour had passed, and colleagues started trickling into the office. ‘Shit,’ he said. ‘Better go prep for the meeting. Thanks for the croissant.’

  ‘Any time,’ she said, smiling at him before returning to her work.

  Over the weeks that followed he started stopping by regularly to say hi. Soon he realised that he was looking forward to seeing her. She was an escape from his own mundane life and it was like a breath of fresh air in the stifling heat. He started coming into work early several times a week, telling her – and himself – that it was down to his heavy workload when he knew deep down it was so that he could have some time alone with her in the quiet of the early morning before the masses arrived for work and burst their bubble. It became his favourite part of the day.

  One evening he was leaving on time for once and as he came downstairs he saw her applying lipstick, checking herself carefully in a little compact mirror.

  ‘Going anywhere nice?’ he asked her.

  ‘Date,’ she admitted with a shrug.

  He felt a pang of jealousy which surprised him. ‘Well, have a great time,’ he replied briskly and hurried off before she had a chance to notice his reaction. He had no right to be pissed off but for the rest of the evening he felt inexplicably low. The next morning he didn’t come into work until later, giving her what he hoped was a cheery wave as he walked past her in a steady stream of people and headed straight up to his office. He never asked her how it went.

  Pete had never cheated on his wife and Christ, he’d been offered it on a plate often enough. He’d had some flirtations over the years, attractive colleagues or clients leaning in close to him at business dinners or corporate events and making their intentions perfectly clear. He’d enjoyed their attention, certainly, and he’d even been tempted once or twice but he hadn’t crossed the line. His dad had been a liar and a cheat and he’d always promised that he would be better. Plus, he’d been with Kate since he was nineteen years old and he couldn’t imagine life without her. But recently, life with her had become hard.

  They’d always been in sync, the two of them, from their student days through their twenties and into their early thirties. She was nothing like any woman he had ever met before and she was everything he had ever wanted – fun, confident and ambitious. But since getting married and having kids, she had completely changed to the point where he felt he barely even knew her. She was withdrawn, always tired and, seemingly, always angry at him for unknown reasons. Whatever lust for life she’d had for all those years had been snuffed out of her. Was she even aware of it, he wondered? He’d tentatively brought it up a few times, suggesting she talk to someone about it, and she’d shot him down so viciously that he’d given up trying. Perhaps this is just what happens when you have kids, he thought. He had never given any serious thought to the fact that their marriage might be in trouble, he had simply accepted his lot and got on with life. It’ll get better when the children are older, he told himself, that’s what everyone says. Those first few years are the hardest. And anyway, they were perfect for each other, him and Kate, everyone said it.

  He still remembered the first time he had met Kate like it was yesterday. Tall, slim and sassy, with long auburn hair and long legs clad in tight jeans, she sauntered into the student bar as if she owned the place and stole his seat. When he returned from the bar and suggested that she sit on his lap, he was half expecting her to be affronted but she simply laughed and replied, ‘You’re on.’ They’d chatted all night and the next day he had looked for her in the canteen, desperate to talk to her again.

  She was smart, beautiful and confident, and she seemed so different to Beth, his school sweetheart who had decided to stay at home and apply for local office jobs rather than go to uni. She’d been a sweet girl but she had no ambition at all, a stark contrast to Pete who couldn’t wait to go out into the world and make his mark. Their relationship was pretty much doomed from the minute he kissed her goodbye, jumped into his battered Vauxhall Corsa and hit the M1, en route to his new life. Pete wasn’t close to his family: his brother was a cocky little shit and his mum, who had raised them both on her own, acted like it was all his fault that their father had left them when he barely even remembered the arsehole. He couldn’t wait to get away from them and university was his escape route – his chance of a better life. He only went home at Christmas to break up with Beth. Poor Beth, who had been so loyal and patient during that first term, was heartbroken when he told her that it wasn’t going to work, but he’d had no regrets. Now he had no ties to that godforsaken town anymore, no reason to go back at all.

  Pete was a man of principles so there was no going near Kate until he was single. After he’d dumped Beth, he couldn’t wait to get back to Leeds to see Kate again. She was ambitious and intelligent, a straight A student who liked to work hard and party even harder. One minute she’d be downing shots in the student bar and the next she’d be in the library with a latte, nose in her books, studying hard. She could finish a cryptic crossword while balancing a cigarette in one hand and a bag of Doritos in the other. He was in awe of her.

  When they first got together, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was. They just clicked from the st
art, there was no drama, jealousy or stress. While his mates’ girlfriends threw their toys out of the pram if they went out late or didn’t call, Kate couldn’t give a hoot because she was out having fun herself. When girls paid him attention it was of no concern to Kate because boys did the same to her and they both trusted each other.

  Then the university bubble burst and they found themselves in the real world. People warned him that there might be some bumps in the road ahead but there really weren’t. There was never any doubt that they’d move to London to pursue their careers but they agreed to live apart at first and enjoy the experience of sharing flats with their friends before they settled down. They had plenty of time, they both agreed. He felt so fortunate to have her, this vivacious girl who gave him the space he needed so that he never felt trapped yet was always there to come home to. They both did pretty well in their careers, they made friends – some their own and some joint – went on fun holidays and life was good.

  So of course they did what they were supposed to do. The minute they hit thirty, he bought the ring, got down on one knee on a romantic trip to Rome and they set the date for the wedding. Within a year of returning from their honeymoon she was pregnant. They were both excited to start a family although, if he was being honest, she had been more into it than him. The thought of babies and nappies made him feel panicky. While her bump grew and she blossomed, he wondered how he would feel when the baby was born and worried about whether he would love it. What kind of person worries that they won’t love their own kid? he’d thought. He was relieved when he met a bunch of dads at the local antenatal classes that Kate had signed them up to and it turned out that plenty of people worried about it.

  Still, nothing could prepare him for parenthood. All of a sudden the life that he had always known, and was rather partial to, was turned completely upside down. Gone were the late nights drinking wine and putting the world to rights, long lie-ins and lazy Sundays in the pub. Instead, their life became consumed by sleepless nights, colicky babies, dirty nappies and the constant fear that this was their life forever more. He loved Lily, he really loved her, but he didn’t really like her all that much to begin with. To be fair, what was to like? She cried constantly, was too young to interact with him, and the only thing that made her happy was being attached to Kate’s breasts.

  But the biggest change was in Kate. All of a sudden, the confident and capable woman that he had loved for over a decade was replaced by someone he could only describe as a nervous wreck. It’s fair to say that motherhood did not come naturally to Kate. She transformed almost overnight into someone who was constantly anxious and tearful, scared to even leave the house sometimes. After a while the tears were replaced by resentment towards the world, and him, but he could never work out why. He knew motherhood was hard but he struggled to understand why she was falling apart so much. All the other new mums were sleep-deprived and exhausted but they seemed to be coping okay, whereas Kate just couldn’t seem to adapt at all.

  He tried to help her, he really did. He offered to take the baby for a few hours at weekends or to hire a nanny for a while to help her out but she seemed to take both offers as a personal insult, as if he were suggesting that she was incapable of looking after her own baby. Nothing he said was right as far as she was concerned and she seemed permanently cross with him for reasons that he just didn’t understand because he’d done absolutely nothing wrong.

  One day she called him at work in a panic. ‘Lily’s got a fever, I don’t know what to do,’ she cried.

  ‘Calm down, I’m sure it’s fairly common in babies,’ he replied. ‘Have you given her some Calpol?’

  ‘Of course I bloody have! It hasn’t made any difference. I’ve been trying to get through to the doctors for ages but it’s constantly engaged. I think I should take her to A&E. It could be meningitis.’

  Pete, who had been in the middle of an important meeting when she’d called, sighed. ‘I don’t think we need to take her to hospital, Kate, she’s probably just got a cold. Listen, give her another hour or two and let’s see how she is.’

  ‘You don’t understand, Pete, an hour could be too late – I’m going right now,’ and she hung up. Pete went back to his meeting and when it finished, he texted her to find out how it had gone. She didn’t reply so he called her, but it went to voicemail.

  Starting to panic, Pete grabbed his things and rushed home to find the house empty. After calling her three more times, he was just about to head to the nearest hospital when Kate appeared around the corner, pushing Lily in the pram.

  ‘Kate, what the hell? I’ve called you a bunch of times, why didn’t you answer? How’s Lily?’

  ‘Oh she’s fine,’ Kate said. ‘Her temperature went down as I was getting ready to go to hospital so I didn’t bother going in the end. She’s sleeping it off now.’

  ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me? I’ve been worried sick!’

  She turned and looked accusingly at him. ‘You weren’t that bloody worried! You didn’t even offer to leave work. I figured you didn’t care.’

  He stared at her, feeling both hurt and irritated. ‘Kate, that’s not fair, I was in the middle of a really important meeting and I didn’t think it was anything to worry about. But you had no right to ignore my calls. Of course I care.’

  ‘It’s fine, Pete. I handled it on my own. I’m getting quite good at that these days.’

  It was one of the many barbed comments that she had started throwing his way. He couldn’t seem to do anything right – he held Lily wrong, he changed her nappy wrong, he bathed her wrong. He became so anxious of experiencing Kate’s wrath that Lily sensed his nerves and wailed every time he picked her up. Long days turned into long weeks which, in turn, turned into long months. Work became his refuge and he found himself staying later and later to avoid returning to a crying baby and a crying mother. He felt terrible about it because he loved them both but he also found himself feeling increasingly resentful towards Kate for creating this toxic environment that he dreaded coming home to.

  As time went on, things slowly started to improve. Lily got older and became more interactive and fun, and Kate became a bit less stressy. By the time Lily was a toddler, Kate seemed to have found her stride. She had stopped breastfeeding and her possessiveness over Lily subsided, which meant that he could be more involved in looking after her. She began going for runs, getting her nails done and meeting mum friends for coffee at the weekends. By then Lily was in a bedtime routine and so they had their evenings back and started enjoying takeaways, wine and movie nights again. She even agreed to let her sister Erin babysit once or twice so they could go out for dinner. Life started to go back to normal – not pre-baby normal but a new kind of normal which lay somewhere in between content and discontent. Routine at least, even if things between them weren’t like they used to be anymore.

  So, when Kate suggested they try for baby number two, his first reaction was dread. He didn’t think he could go through all that again and he wasn’t sure that their marriage could survive it.

  ‘It’ll be different this time,’ Kate reassured him. ‘I know what I’m doing, I won’t be a first-time mum. And if I need help, I’ll ask for it, I promise. I won’t let what happened the first time happen again. I know it was tough for you, Pete.’

  ‘I don’t know, Kate, it was hard, so hard. For you more than anyone, darling. And we’re settled now, do you really want to turn our lives upside down again?’

  ‘I don’t want Lily to be an only child. And we’ve always talked about having at least two kids. I know it will be tough in the beginning, but it’ll be worth it in the long run, it really will. I promise you. This baby will complete our family.’

  So, just a few weeks after they celebrated Lily’s first birthday, Kate presented him with two blue lines on a pregnancy test. The reaction was somewhat more subdued the second time around, the celebration slightly muted. He was just as anxious during this pregnancy but for different reasons – he knew wh
at lay ahead this time and he was terrified. Not of the baby but of his wife.

  When Maggie made her arrival into the world, things started off much better. Kate seemed calmer and more together. The distraction of having a toddler helped, she said because she didn’t have time to dwell on things as much. She agreed to let Pete give Maggie a bottle in the night so she could get some more sleep and to take both girls out to the park on Saturdays to give her a lie in. He began to breathe again, believing that this time it would be okay, that they had escaped the nightmare. So, when the dark times came again, he wasn’t expecting it. Maggie was a few months old and in a good routine. She was a happy, fairly uncomplicated baby compared to Lily, with her fussiness and clinginess in the early months. There was no trigger that he could put his finger on but one day, he came home from work on a Friday evening, humming to himself and looking forward to the steak and chips that Kate had said she would make for them. It was gone 7.30pm so he expected the kids to be in bed already, or at least on the final stretch – maybe he’d make it in time for bedtime stories with Lily, he thought. As soon as he walked into the living room, he knew something was very wrong.

  Maggie was lying on her playmat wailing, the stench of her soiled nappy almost unbearable. Lily was sitting on the rug watching EastEnders, wearing only her pants and a pair of wellington boots, eating ice cream which she proudly told him was her dinner. And Kate was sitting on the floor staring into space with a vacant expression that suggested she had checked out some time ago.

  ‘Kate?’ he asked tentatively. She didn’t respond. He scooped up Maggie, soothing her with kisses and cuddles and headed upstairs to run the bath. He bathed both children, put them to bed and came back downstairs to find that Kate hadn’t moved. She was wearing just a vest and shorts and the chill of the evening had set in, causing her to shiver involuntarily. He reached for the blanket and wrapped it around her. This gentle act of kindness was like a floodgate and suddenly she was crying hysterically, letting out what felt like three years’ worth of tears and anguish.