‘I came here to give you move dates. Beau is relaxed about specifics, he just wants me there as soon as possible. You need to be out of here in a month. Painters are coming and the removal men will take the things I’m not leaving.’
‘Okay. You didn’t have to come here to tell me that.’
‘I know. I wanted to make sure you had somewhere to go. Whatever happens, I still care about you.’
‘I haven’t seen you for two weeks. I have a relationship with your mother and the children now. You’ve moved on fast with your new exciting life.’
After what I saw leaving my house, I snap. I’m so furious, I’m only able to deliver bullet-points through gritted teeth.
‘I’ve moved on? That tart seemed nice. Pretty. Uni student, is she? Did you give her what she wanted?’
‘You know nothing about her.’
‘I bet you don’t either. She’s young enough to be your daughter.’
‘Is that what’s upsetting you? Her age? Not that she wants to do things you can’t be bothered with.’
‘You bastard. Did I mean so little to you that you leapt into bed with the first whore you met?’
‘Did I mean so little to you that you gave up on us so easily? I knew we weren’t happy, but I never thought you’d throw me out. We have kids. It’s about hunkering down.’
‘How dare you say that? You can hunker off.’
I pick up my handbag and want to shove it down his useless throat. A small voice tells me this isn’t solving anything. If he can’t be civil, then I need to be the bigger person.
‘Why didn’t you say you were thinking of leaving?’ he asks.
‘I did.’
‘Well, I didn’t hear.’
‘That’s because you don’t listen.’
‘I thought you believed in meditation?’
‘If by that you mean mediation, then I distinctly remember you telling me in a drunken stupor that all counsellors are cocksuckers.’
‘They are!’
‘Nothing gets through to you. Don’t you dare blame any of this on me. I came because I still care for you. It’s me that’s an idiot! But I need you to be okay, so our children can spend time with you. I need to know they are safe and with responsible adults. What are you going to do with them? Hang out with teenagers? You need to find somewhere to live.’
His eyes narrow, but not in a harsh way. In true Dan style, he’s not thought further away than his next meal, or beer.
‘I’m off to see my mother in a few days. I’ll take Chucky. Sorry, Charlie. She’s not seen him for over a year. I suppose I could stay there for two or three months. Get my head together.’
I’ve only met his mother on a few occasions. They have the kind of relationship you’d expect if he had been sent to boarding school at eleven. Only he wasn’t.
‘Isn’t that out of the frying pan and into the volcano? Didn’t you say the only ones that return to that town are people on day release from prison?’
‘God, you’re right. Admittedly, it’s not ideal but it will be free. There’s nothing keeping me here if you go. You know I’ve not been happy. I’ve lost who I am. There are too many people and towering buildings. Too much traffic and constant noise. I can’t find a niche, because I don’t understand why anyone wants to live here. From the moment I wake up, I feel I’m forcing myself to breathe.’
He’s being a little dramatic, but I know these things. Although, it’s the first time I’ve heard them in a list. Should I have known he was this unhappy, or is he making excuses for his lack of effort?
‘You refused to embrace it here, Dan. You’ve never given it your all. You constantly resisted this city. You hid behind sarcasm and alcohol and refused to let this place in. I was here, your children were here. Do simple things. Sober. Visit the theatre, or cinema. Cycle around a park, re-join life. There are galleries and shows open every day and night.’
‘Theatre, art galleries, opera? That’s not me.’
‘Is it anyone? Maybe not to start with, but you try, and then you talk about it. Even if it’s to slag it off. That way, eventually, you’ll find something you love. There are stadiums, water sports, rock-climbing, and architecture. Join a chess club. Discover museums and exhibitions. You made me go to countless war stuff in Vietnam and Cambodia.’
‘I do enjoy a good museum.’
‘Yes. See. Have you been to one here? I’d have gone with you if you’d only asked. As long as they have a cake and coffee shop.’
I smile and he does the same. His fades away.
‘It’s so expensive and busy here. It stresses me out.’
‘You’ve got an excuse for everything, haven’t you? Yes, it’s hard. It’s easy to sit on the sofa, watch movies, and get pissed. Is booze free? If you spent the beer money on experiences, we’d all be happier. Which do you think is the healthier and more rewarding?’
A car horn outside sounds three times.
‘Who’s that?’
‘It’s Rachel. I told her I was coming here. We’re going out for a bite to eat in town at that new tapas place.’
His scowl is back.
‘It’s still a city full of wankers.’
I give up. ‘Yes, that’s true. It’s a shock you didn’t fit right in.’
Chapter 46
Olivia
Rachel is talking to Mike outside when I stamp past. I ignore them both, walk up to what I hope is her car at the kerb, and climb in. To my annoyance, it takes Rachel a further minute to join me.
‘He’s so dishy.’
‘Please can we get out of here? I have numerous appointments in town, all of them with wine.’
‘Went well with Dan then?’
‘He’s so frustrating.’
‘Am I allowed to say I told you so?’
‘Only if you want to go for tapas on your own.’
Rachel drives off in a smooth manner. She’s one of the few people on the planet who calm down behind a wheel. She becomes a sensible, rational person. My blood cools. She brakes sensibly as lunatic cyclists hurtle past. These spandex warriors drive me crazy. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve almost been knocked over by them. There’s a bunch who go out near our house and terrorize the roads. I often feel like throwing things at them.
By the time we’ve nipped into our favourite bar for a pre-lunch relaxant, I’m ready to talk.
‘You were right. He hasn’t changed. He picked up his single life as if the last eight years never happened.’
‘Has he put any effort in at all?’
‘Not a huge amount. He’s argued, not begged, the fooker.’
Fooker is what Rachel likes to call useless men.
‘They’re all fookers, don’t be surprised.’
‘I know. But it doesn’t feel right. I imagined if we ever split up it would be because he’d cheated on me and shagged someone. I never imagined I’d give him the boot for not trying hard enough, and basically tell him to shag other people. Now he’s gone and done it, I’m devastated.’
‘What!’
I finally understand the reason why Rachel doesn’t get as drunk as I do is because she is always spraying me with her drink. Half of each glass gets to go down her throat, the other part is blown in my direction.
‘Yep. I turned up, and he was letting a hot young thing out the front door. Skin like a baby’s bum, and, well, I should think a bottom like one too. The bitch.’
‘Not the girl with the vein-tight jeans and no bra I saw at the bottom of your street?’
‘Ponytail and red high heels?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘I don’t suppose you ran her over, did you?’
‘No, but we can turn around and find her if you want. I’ll do it really quick?’
‘Don’t joke about that. Dan found a dint on our car. He reckons it was me that scratched our neighbour’s car. Besides, I know it’s not her fault. Shall we just give her a glancing blow.’
‘Come on, Olivia. You’re better
off without him. You have an amazing opportunity coming up — which is the chance to get drunk with me in California. Then the new job’s okay, too. Happy days.’
‘I asked his friend if he thought Dan was having an affair. He said he’d know and he wasn’t.’
‘Come on, Olivia. Would he really tell you the truth?
‘I guess not.’
We settle in and talk rubbish. My problems always dissolve for the time I’m with Rachel. I must say it will be good to have her close by. We pop to our second favourite bar and she buys me another vat of prosecco. She’s driving, so I feel a bit guilty, but not too bad. I plonk the empty glass onto the table with a sloppy grin and notice her distraction.
My eyes narrow. ‘What’s got into you?’
‘Nothing.’
‘You look guilty of something.’
‘Me? Is it a crime to be enjoying your company?’
‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve had sex today.’
‘I have not. How dare you? It was yesterday.’
‘Surely not…’
‘Yes. Herman the German. He’s proved to be an efficient lover.’
‘A big German fooker!’
This time I’m covered in mineral water. I suppose that’s an improvement.
‘In many ways. I’d never have thought effective, resourceful, attentive and persistent would be my bag. But my knees are still quivering.’
‘Wow. That was unexpected. What’s the story?’
‘I got him drunk that night and dragged him to his place. I thought he’d fit the ‘ein zwei, ein zwei, vielen dank, und gute nacht’ tag. So, in the morning, I left without a backward glance. I didn’t bother to give him my number as I’m going back soon and expected not to see him again.’
‘And?’
‘Next day, I get lilies at my desk, and he’s keen as mustard. I’ve seen loads of him. All of him, many times, in fact.’
‘That’s brilliant. Here, that’s Mike, isn’t it?’
She turns around and sure enough, coming through the door is Mike. There’s a hint of the man from Del Monte about his attire, but he wears it with confidence. He swaggers over.
‘Heh, ladies. Fancy seeing you girls here. What’ll you have?’
‘Prosecco for her. I’m driving,’ says Rachel.
He strides to the bar and Rachel is shamefaced.
‘What a surprise.’
‘Rachel!’
‘He was coming to town for a business lunch, so I said to pop in and see us for a drink. He’s got the hots for you.’
Mike comes back with two glasses and a bottle. I get the feeling I’m not in control.
We have a brilliant hour. Suddenly, I’m a free spirit. The laughs and jokes come easy as does the fizz. Rachel excuses herself for the toilet. Mike looks at his watch and stands up.
‘I need to shoot. I’ll take you for a drink and a steak one night. There’s a great Argentinian place not far from here. How’s Saturday?’
‘I don’t know, Mike. I’m leaving London soon.’
‘Come on. You’re single now. Have fun. What time shall I collect you?’
Alcohol has robbed me of a reason.
‘Seven-thirty?’
‘It’s a date.’
He kisses me on the hand, and leaves before I can change my mind.
I catch Rachel poking her head out of the toilet to see if the coast is clear. Sneaky cow. She attempts to look innocent as she sits.
‘Got any plans for the weekend?’
‘Nothing will happen. It’s just dinner.’
‘I suppose you won’t be taking him back to your place. Talking of which, where is Dan going to go when you leave?’
‘He’s thinking of moving in with his mum.’
‘Ah, I always knew he was a motherfooker.’
Chapter 47
Dan
Two days later
The children have only seen their grandmother on my side twice. She refuses to visit the big city, as she calls it, because it’s so dangerous. Now this Abel thing has started, there’s no chance she’ll come. I’d take the kids more often, but she lives over two hours away, and isn’t interested in them. She talked about moving back to where she grew up, over four hours away, which would have meant we’d never see her.
Grandma, as she insists on being called, likes to pretend she’s a sweet old lady. In fact, Grandma makes me think of the sweet lady in Little Red Riding Hood. I wouldn’t fancy the wolf’s chances. He’d end up mopping the floor and doing odd jobs around the house while she waved a shotgun in his general vicinity.
One of her many flaws is failing to answer the phone, then berating me for not having rung. I’ve kept a log of missed calls for when she mentions it this time. Grace is at school today but Charlie doesn’t have playschool, poor thing, so he’s with me.
Looking after kids isn’t as hard as you think. Well, as long as your expectations are low. Car journeys for example are minefields. However, if you get organised it can be easy. All you have to do is knacker the little darling out beforehand, give him a bag of crisps at the start of the journey, and then a trip to McDonald’s as soon as he wakes. It must be my lucky day because he hasn’t pooped his pants either. That’s despite him insisting on having my Big Mac, leaving me four suspicious nuggets.
The bungalow looks as it always does from the outside — unlived in. Not that the garden is overgrown or untidy, it’s unloved. More someone’s buy-to-let than a home. A place where they’ve done the bare minimum to keep it acceptable for when the tenants move in.
‘Who lives here, Daddy?’
‘Grandma.’
‘Grandma?’
‘Yes, you know, like the one in Little Red Riding Hood.’
I can see him thinking about the wolf, too. He’s a boy though and easily distracted.
‘You have two Grandma’s. Your other one is Nanny. You’ve been staying at her house.’
That works as now he looks disorientated. He was nearly two when he last met her. I note the doorbell doesn’t work. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d unscrewed the battery herself. I peek through the front window and she’s watching a Carry On film on a massive LCD TV. She rocks in her seat with laughter. She reaches across and takes an industrial swig of a dark, red liquid in a small glass. Sherry, I expect.
I go back to the entrance and give it a resounding knock. The door opens an inch and a cautious eye looks me over.
‘Hello,’ she says in a frail voice.
I can see it’s going to be one of those visits.
‘Open the door, Grandma. Charlie has come to see you.’
She widens the door and continues the charade.
‘Sorry, Daniel. My eyesight’s not what it used to be.’
She examines Charlie in the same way Robocop judges villains. Analysing the threat and assessing his danger levels. I imagine her saying, “Come quietly or there will be... trouble.” I smile.
‘Charlie. Kiss your Granny hello.’
‘Grandma,’ she corrects.
He looks like I’ve asked him to check a ferocious lion’s mouth for cavities. He approaches her with appropriate caution. I notice too late that he has most of the baked beans he had for breakfast all over his top. The only way he could have got in that mess was to have rolled in them. Grandma’s noticed. It’s lucky she doesn’t have a gun on her hip, or Charlie’s head would be a smoking mess. They both settle for an air kiss a foot apart.
‘Saying that, Granny has a nice ring to it. You can call me that from now on. Can you remember Granny? Like Granny Smith, the apple.’
‘He’s a three-year-old boy, not a greengrocer.’
I watch her wondering where to take the little dirt-ball to minimise the mess. She limps to the next doorway and directs him into the kitchen. She has aged and is favouring one side. The years catch up with everyone. I see the pictures of the family we send are on her wall. She can be supportive and interested as long as there’s a safety zone of one hundre
d miles between us.
‘What a nice surprise. Although I’m going out soon.’
‘What do you mean, you’re going out? I told you I was coming a week ago.’
‘Did you? It’s my memory. Everything’s fading. It’s unlucky because I’m so rarely out nowadays. Sometimes I get lonely. You should ring once in a while.’
‘Here’s the list of times and dates when I’ve rung. You don’t answer.’
She scowls at the piece of paper. Unhappy that she’s been exposed.
‘Folk from the church take me shopping. Maybe I was doing that.’
‘Is that where you’re going now? I’ll drive you to the shops, or church if you want.’
‘It’s okay. Arthur is picking me up.’
‘Who’s Arthur?’
‘A companion.’
Ugh. Why does that sound so nasty? I think I’d have preferred her to say fuck buddy.
‘Perfect. I’ve driven all this way, and can’t even have a cup of tea.’
‘Stop being silly, Daniel. We have time for that. How about you? Would you like a juice, Christopher?’
I don’t bother to correct her. She reaches up to the cups. I assume the grimace on her face, which resembles a soldier being shot in the back, is to let me know her crippling arthritis still plagues her. Charlie and I watch her wipe dust off the top of the orange squash bottle. His expression says, ‘Do not leave me here’.
‘How are things then? You’re getting out a little, at least.’
‘Seldom, seldom.’
A phone beeps, indicating a message has been received. Her head shoots around at the sound like a hawk hearing a mouse squeak. She has the same cruel expression. The sneaky cow. I wasn’t aware she had a mobile. She carries on and pours the tea, clearly thinking me a fool. It beeps again to let her know the game’s up.
‘Did I say I had a new phone? I must give you the number.’
She hands me a cup with a trembling hand and lifts slices of cake out of a plastic tub. It’s the quietest I’ve ever seen Charlie. She considers herself a good cook. As his hand reaches towards them, I consider warning him. I don’t. There will be an important life lesson occurring in this room shortly. He picks up a piece, and his fingers meet in the middle of it. I wisely pass.
[2018] Abel's Revenge Page 15
