Second Chance

by Jane Green

  Holly shakes her head, resisting the urge to leap across the table and throttle him.

  ‘Maybe you should go to see a doctor,’ Marcus says gently. ‘It could be depression, and perhaps you could look at medication. I do understand you’re unhappy, but I also know it’s nothing to do with me.’

  Holly shrugs again and goes back to playing with her food.

  She tried, she thinks. At least she tried.

  The phone shrills, waking Holly out of the most bizarre dream. She and Will are at the theatre. The actress on stage is supposed to be Saffron but in fact it is Olivia, and Holly keeps wondering why Olivia is on stage when she can’t act and why she and Will seem to be a couple, but she knows it is just pretend.

  ‘Holly? Are you awake?’

  ‘Only just. Who is it?’

  ‘Oh God, sorry. Holly, it’s Paul.’

  ‘Hey, Paul, how are you?’

  ‘Well, I’m fine. But the thing is – you’ve seen the papers, right?’

  ‘About Saffron? I know! Isn’t it awful? Poor darling.

  I’ve left her a ton of messages and I’ve had a couple from her, but we haven’t managed to catch up. Have you spoken to her?’

  ‘Well, that’s the thing. You know we’ve got this place in the country? We offered it to her as a hideout because it’s in the middle of nowhere, and she was coming over to stay. But basically her driver called us this morning from Heathrow, asking for help because she’s… well… she’s completely shit-faced.’

  Holly sits bolt upright. ‘What do you mean, shitfaced?’

  Paul starts laughing. ‘What do you think I mean? Here, I’ll pass you over. She wants to talk.’

  ‘Holly Mac? Is that my darling Holly Mac?’

  And of course Holly hears instantly that Saffron is drunk. And she knows instantly what this means. She knows all about Saffron’s drinking, her drinking years of old, and she knows about her long-standing sobriety since walking into AA. She isn’t supposed to know but Tom told her, swore her to secrecy, although Paul clearly hasn’t heard about it. Paul thinks Saffron is just drunk. A one-off. An amusing incident.

  ‘Where are you, Saff?’

  ‘About to get in a car, darling. Where are you? Why aren’t you here? I want us all to be together again.’

  ‘Let me talk to Paul a sec, Saff. I’ll talk to you in a minute.’ The phone is passed back. ‘Where are you, Paul?’

  ‘Driving down to Gloucestershire to deposit her. Except she can’t be on her own. I think we’re going to stay with her just until she sobers up.’

  ‘Paul,’ Holly whispers, ‘do you know she’s in AA?’

  ‘What? You’re not serious!’

  ‘Desperately. This is huge, Paul. She’s fallen off the wagon. This is terrible.’

  ‘Oh shit,’ he mutters. ‘I had no idea. I thought it was just funny she was… Oh God. Now what do we do? Don’t we have to stage an –’ he drops his voice to a whisper – ‘intervention or something?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘Oh God, Holly. Here we are again, getting Saff out of trouble. Listen, I’m completely out of my depth here. Can you come? Please?’

  ‘Come where? Gloucestershire?’

  ‘Yes. Bring the kids. Bring Marcus. Whatever. But she needs us all now, Holly. Please come.’

  Holly takes a deep breath. ‘Okay,’ she says. ‘I’ll need to rearrange some stuff but I’ll come. I’ll ring you later and tell you the plan.’

  Oh God. Falling off the wagon. Holly gets straight on the Internet to read about interventions, to read what she should do, and as the page uploads, she starts to think about the dream that Paul interrupted.

  And she realizes something.

  In fourteen years, she has never dreamt about Marcus.

  She has dreamt about her children, about her friends, about her parents. She has dreamt about partners who have been nameless or faceless, and more recently her dreams have been populated with Tom, and now Will.

  But in fourteen years she has never dreamt about Marcus. He has never once set foot in her subconscious.

  She’s not sure what this means, but she’s pretty damn sure it isn’t good.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Paul had escaped later that morning to phone Holly and provide her with an update. ‘She fell asleep in the car and now she’s awake and pretty hung-over,’ he said gravely. ‘She said that was it, she’d never drink again.’

  ‘Do you think she means it?’ Holly asked dubiously.

  ‘I think so. She seemed pretty low-key and said she had a splitting headache. I think she feels awful about what happened, but God only knows whether she’ll drink again. We didn’t bring any wine with us, so I suppose we’ll just keep an eye on her. What time are you thinking of coming?’

  ‘After school. The au pair will get the kids, then I’ll pack them up and come down.’

  ‘Great. Saffron’s put in a request for sushi. Any chance you could stop somewhere and bring some down?’

  Holly laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘God, you can take the girl out of LA, but you can’t take LA out of the girl. Sushi, indeed. Where does she think she is?’

  ‘Not Gloucestershire, that’s for sure.’ Paul laughed. ‘We popped into the corner shop but mayonnaise and baked beans didn’t seem to quite do it for her.’

  ‘Can’t make any promises but I’ll do my best.’

  ‘Oh, and one more thing. It’s bloody freezing. The plumber’s supposed to be coming tomorrow morning, and we’re waiting for the chimney guy, but bring tons of clothes. We may have to sleep in our coats tonight.’

  ‘Oh great.’ Holly affected a dramatic sigh. ‘First you tell me there’s nothing to eat except mayonnaise and baked beans, and now you tell me it’s the North Pole. Anything else I ought to know before I climb in the car?’

  ‘Shit! Yes! Can you pick Olivia up? I know it’s a bit out of the way for you, but Saffron insisted that Olivia come too. Is that okay?’

  ‘Sounds great. A proper reunion. I imagine we’ll be there around five or six. See you later, and thanks for the directions.’ And Holly took her cup of coffee up to her studio to phone Marcus.

  ‘What? You’re what?’ Marcus spits with anger. ‘Taking the children and going where? Just a little bit of a coincidence, isn’t it? You tell me you’re unhappy and now you’re leaving with no notice? Do you really think I believe this is about Saffron? Christ, Holly, you barely even know these people, you haven’t seen them in, what, twenty years? And now all of a sudden you’re dropping everything for them.’

  And then his voice dips to a familiar calm. ‘No,’ he says. ‘I will not tolerate this. You’re not going.’

  ‘I am, Marcus,’ Holly says quietly. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to.’

  ‘If you go,’ Marcus is still eerily calm, ‘if you go and take the children, Holly, don’t bother coming back. I’m warning you, Holly, if you carry on and do this, I won’t be here when you come back. I will not have my wife deliberately defy me in this way. This is not acceptable. This is your last chance, Holly. It’s me or these people you think are your friends. Your choice, Holly. Your choice.’

  Holly stares blankly at her computer screen, listening to all the familiar noises in her house. The slight tapping of the pipes, the buzz of the washing machine downstairs, the tinny music, barely audible, from the radio in the kitchen. Everything sounds exactly the same, but everything is suddenly completely different.

  Here it is. As if God has reached down and opened up a window of opportunity for her, a window of opportunity she has only fantasized about but has never been certain she would actually pass through if it were offered.

  Here it is.

  And there is no doubt in her heart, no second thoughts, barely a thought at all. Freedom is being offered to her on a plate, and feeling the weight being lifted off her heart, she speaks.

  ‘I’m sorry you feel that way, Marcus. I’m sorry you’re giving me a choice, but I can’t let my friends down. I’m going
.’

  ‘Fine,’ he shouts. ‘I’ll get your stuff packed while you’re away, because let me tell you this, you’re not getting the bloody house, and you’re not getting a penny out of me.’

  ‘Fine,’ Holly echoes, and feeling she is in a dream, and not a particularly bad one, by the way, she hangs up the phone and immediately calls Will.

  She leaves him a message on his mobile, a message at home, and sends him a brief email explaining what just happened. She isn’t sure how she feels, and part of her knows she should be scared, but why then is there a smile on her face? Why does she skip downstairs to pack, and to pack way more than she would have done had she and Marcus not just had this conversation?

  Already, a few minutes in, she knows this is it. There is no going back. Think. Think. What does Marcus do when he is hurt? When he is angry? She is not sure how far he will go, but this is the ultimate humiliation for him, and when Marcus is hurt, Marcus strikes out.

  She has to take everything that is important to her, she realizes. She doesn’t know whether he’ll have changed the locks by the time she gets back. She doesn’t much care, but there are paintings she wants. Books. Things she has collected over the years that have no financial value, but all the value in the world to her.

  She checks her watch. There isn’t that much time. She goes from room to room, picking up the things she really wants, the things she will miss if Marcus does indeed act as disgustingly as some of his clients.

  The smaller paintings she takes, stacking them in the car, and her collection of antique porcelain pill boxes. The books she leaves, aside from a few she has had since she was a little girl, a few she was hoping to pass on to Daisy.

  Her mother’s pearls, her grandmother’s ring. Some favourite bags and scarves. It doesn’t look as if she has moved out, and she’s hoping she hasn’t, hoping too that few judges would look well on a man shutting the door on his wife and children, but preparing herself for the worst-case scenario.

  The children’s rooms are harder. How is she going to explain this to them? How will they take it? Particularly Oliver, Oliver who adores his father even though he hardly ever sees him.

  Holly sinks down on Oliver’s bed clutching his old blanket, and shivers. She can’t cry. She doesn’t feel the slightest hint of sadness about Marcus, but what about her children? Her beloved children. How can she do this to them?

  But how can she do it to herself? All these years, unhappy. All these years knowing she had made a mistake and waiting for it to get better, thinking that perhaps she could make it work until the children go off to university, when she could leave to rediscover herself.

  She never expected this to happen. Not so quickly nor so simply. One minute she was married, and the next, it feels, not. She shakes her head and gets on with the business of picking the important things for the children.

  A necklace Daisy has been given by her great-grandmother. Her teddies and favourite dresses. Her colouring pads and crayons. Oliver’s Star Wars transformers collection. His Darth Vader speaking mask that long ago stopped speaking but is still one of his prized possessions. Uppy, the threadbare stuffed dog, once brown and white, now mostly grey with his fur loved off, that Oliver sleeps with every night.

  Holly gathers them up and crams them into the boot of the car. She is hoping she will be able to get the rest of her stuff when she gets back, but there are no guarantees and, at the end of the day, it’s just stuff. She has her children with her, and she has the things that are important to her.

  The rest is just furniture.

  ‘But where are we going, Mummy?’ Oliver asks again as Holly hauls their suitcases downstairs and squeezes them in the back of the car. ‘Whose house is it?’

  ‘My friends Paul and Anna, darling. Our friend Saffron is here and she hasn’t been very well, so she needs all of us to go and look after her.’

  ‘What’s the matter with her?’ Daisy asks, sitting on the front step cuddling lambie. ‘Does she have flu?’

  ‘Sort of.’ Holly smiles, crossing her fingers that they won’t arrive to find Saffron drunk.

  They say there are seven stages of divorce: breakdown, shock, anger, pain, hatred, grief and acceptance.

  What they don’t tell you is that in cases like this, cases like Holly’s, there are actually eight. They don’t tell you of the very first stage, the stage that comes before breakdown. The stage that is enabling Holly to drive over to Olivia’s house with High School Musical blaring out of the radio as she and the kids sing along at the tops of their voices, a huge grin on her face.

  The first stage?

  Exhilaration.

  *

  ‘You look good!’ Olivia climbs in the car and wedges her rucksack under Daisy’s feet on the floor of the back seat.

  ‘Thanks!’ Holly smiles. ‘I think my marriage is over.’ She keeps her voice low so the kids don’t hear, and she turns around to check, but because she cleverly brought her computer and armfuls of DVDs, they’re currently engrossed in The Ant Bully.

  ‘What?’ Olivia’s mouth drops open. ‘What do you mean? I thought you weren’t going to do anything.’

  ‘I mean I just had the mother of all arguments with Marcus, and he told me that if I went to Gloucestershire, my marriage would be over.’ Holly feels completely stupid because she can’t stop smiling. Hasn’t been able to stop smiling for hours.

  ‘Well, he obviously doesn’t mean it.’ Olivia is confused. How can Holly be giving her such terrible news with such a huge grin?

  ‘No, no. I think he does.’

  ‘So how do you feel, or is that a stupid question?’

  ‘Honestly?’ Holly turns her head to look at Olivia. ‘I feel free. For the last three hours, once the total shock had passed, I haven’t been able to stop smiling.’

  ‘God, Holly, I had no idea you’d be so impulsive… Oh no. Stop the car!’

  Holly turns again to look at Olivia, who is now as white as a sheet.

  ‘Seriously, Holly. Now. Please.’

  Holly pulls over and watches, concerned, as Olivia jumps out of the car and reaches over to vomit into the gutter. She leaps out and rubs Olivia’s back, and when Olivia has finished and is wiping the tears from her eyes, Holly asks gently if she’s okay.

  ‘I’m okay,’ Olivia says, suddenly leaning over and vomiting violently into the gutter again.

  ‘No you’re not,’ Holly says. ‘We ought to get you to the doctor.’

  ‘Really, I don’t need the doctor,’ Olivia says flatly. ‘But I could do with some crackers.’

  Holly looks at her carefully as it dawns on her. ‘Are you…?’

  Olivia nods.

  ‘But… who? The American guy? I mean, congratulations… No?’

  ‘No.’ Olivia shakes her head. ‘I don’t think I’m going to keep it. I’m pretty certain I’m going to have an abortion. It is Fred, the American, but he’s very definitely no longer in the picture.’

  ‘Look, you get back in the car if you’re feeling up to it, and I’ll run into that shop and get you some ginger ale and crackers. The one thing I know about is morning sickness.’

  Half an hour later, Olivia starts laughing. By this time Barnyard is the movie du jour, and the two women haven’t stopped talking since Holly got back in the car with the ginger ale, crackers and snacks for the kids.

  ‘What are you laughing at?’ Holly sneaks a sideways glance as she zips across to the fast lane to overtake a white van.

  ‘I’m laughing at how much of a mess we all are. You may have just left your husband, I’m pregnant, Saffron’s been exposed. God, what else could there possibly be? I feel like Tom’s death has propelled all of us into these huge mid-life crises.’

  Holly snorts and peers through the windshield up at the grey sky. ‘Thanks a lot, Tom – interesting way to keep us all together.’

  ‘Isn’t that weird, though?’ Olivia shifts in her seat so she’s looking at Holly. ‘It is keeping us all together. I mean, I loved seeing everybod
y for Tom’s memorial service, even though it was obviously under such awful circumstances, but then afterwards I intended to stay in touch more but forgot to phone people, other than you, of course. Life just became so busy, and yet here we are, together again. It does feel that this is Tom’s doing,’ and with that she peers through the windscreen herself, looking up at the sky. ‘Nice one, Tom. I ought to be pissed off with you for the pregnancy, but I am grateful for seeing everyone again.’

  ‘Do you do that too?’ Holly asks quietly.

  ‘What? Talk to Tom?’

  ‘Yes, but look up at the sky when you do it. I do that a lot. Still. I have little chats with him.’

  ‘I know. It feels a lot of the time that he is watching and, corny as it sounds, I feel like he’s become my protector a bit, sort of a guardian angel.’

  ‘It’s not corny.’ Holly can feel the tears well up. ‘It’s exactly how I feel.’

  ‘Oh God.’ Olivia reaches around in her bag for a tissue. ‘Don’t set me off. I cry at everything these days.’

  ‘You’re supposed to.’ Holly smiles through her tears as Olivia hands her a tissue. ‘Your hormones are all out of whack.’

  The phone starts ringing, and Holly picks it up, plugging the earpiece in as she looks at the screen to see who it is.

  Will.

  ‘Hey,’ she says softly. ‘Did you get my message?’

  ‘Oh Holls,’ he says. ‘I was so shocked. I can’t believe he did that. I can’t believe you left. How do you feel? Are you okay?’

  ‘Yes. Better than, actually. But I can’t really talk. I’m on my way down to the country. Long story. I’ll tell you another time. Is everything okay with you?’

  ‘Everything’s great. I’m just worried about you.’

  ‘Don’t be. I’ll call you when I can.’

  She hangs up to find Olivia looking at her with raised eyebrows.

  ‘What?’ Holly says although she is flushing with guilt.