The Dream Life I Never Had

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The Dream Life I Never Had Page 7

by Terri Douglas


  ‘Yeah let’s go home’ I said.

  11

  After our somewhat disastrous attempt to commune with nature at least the walking and breathing kind, we stopped off at the play park on the way home where nature was safely restricted to fresh air, grass, and a few trees.

  We finished what was left of the picnic namely the crisps and chocolate bars and I even managed to coerce Ben and Kate into eating an apple each, and then while the children raced around glad to have survived our recent domesticated safari I poured myself a cup of lukewarm tea.

  As outings go this one could be chalked up as a bit of a failure but I suspected it was also one of those that in time would be quite funny looking back on it, just not so funny right here and right now.

  I took a photo with my phone of Ben and Kate on the slide and sent it to Martin with the message ‘escaped alive from the goats and have taken refuge in the play park xx’.

  I watched the children playing and wondered what Martin was doing. His phone call had been odd; something was definitely off-kilter. He’d been vague about the specifics of where he was staying, and there’d been peculiar remarks like he definitely wouldn’t be on his own, and all that about Tequila coming from Mexico not Spain I mean what sort of conversation was that to have when you were a million miles away from your wife and children?

  ‘Can we have our ice cream?’ Kate said interrupting my thoughts.

  ‘Well I don’t know about that, the deal was an ice cream if you ate your sandwiches but you didn’t eat them did you?’ I said as if I was giving the matter some serious consideration.

  ‘But the goat ate our sandwiches’ Kate complained.

  ‘It stole mine out my hand’ Ben protested.

  ‘Yes’ I said slowly as if still considering. ‘But if you hadn’t both taken so long to eat your lunch the goat wouldn’t have had anything left to steal.’

  ‘Mum’ Kate said indignantly knowing I was teasing.

  ‘I think maybe it’s the goat that should have an ice cream’ I said sagely.

  ‘Mum’ Kate said again even more forcefully this time.

  ‘Goats can’t eat ice cream’ Ben said ‘they’d be sick’.

  ‘I think you’ll find goats can eat just about anything they want, including ice cream.’

  Kate gave me one of her looks that said stop messing about Mum, and Ben still puzzling over the conundrum of how a goat could eat ice cream said ‘but how would they hold it?’

  ‘Okay’ I said capitulating as Kate and I both knew I would. ‘But only if you promise to be good tonight and no messing around at bath time.’

  ‘We promise’ Kate said straight away and without any thought at all, which of course meant that tonight’s bath time would be no different from any other night.

  ‘I promise Mummy’ Ben said seriously and meaning it, although I knew even if he didn’t that by the time it was bath time the ice cream would already have been consumed and he’d have forgotten all about his promise.

  We walked over to the ice cream van and bought three cones, one plain for myself, one with a flake for Kate, and one with raspberry sauce for Ben, and then we sat on the bench eating them and laughing at Ben’s attempt to lick faster than the ice cream could melt.

  Later that night after a particularly exuberant bath time all promises as predicted well and truly forgotten, Ben and Kate were safely tucked up in bed zonked out after all that fresh air and excitement and I gratefully settled down on the settee to an evening of doing absolutely nothing except watching telly.

  I was sort of expecting another call from Martin so I kept my mobile next to me. I could have called him of course but I wasn’t sure where he’d be or what he’d be doing and decided it would probably be best to wait for him to call me.

  In the dream life Martin would call and we’d have a long chat about where he was and what the place he was staying in was like. It’d be a guest house type place that was basic but homely and the lady that ran it would be the motherly type looking after him and spoiling him a bit feeling sorry that he was so far away from his family. Martin would be missing me and the children and saying things like ‘when this job is over I’ll never go away again’. He’d say ‘even Lenny’s feeling homesick’. He’d say ‘when I get home I’m going to start my own business just like you said’. He’d quietly whisper sweet nothings down the phone so his landlady and her family couldn’t hear him, and reluctantly after nearly an hour he’d say goodnight with promises of phoning again tomorrow.

  In my real life Martin didn’t phone and didn’t even text and I went to bed still wondering what he was doing and hoping he wasn’t out drinking with Lenny, although it was a half-hearted hope as I suspected that’s exactly what he was doing.

  Sunday was one of those just need to get through it days. A succession of weekend family trivia where I caught up with the washing, although washing was one of those things that you never really caught up with no matter how hard you tried, the children watched television made a mess and squabbled with each other in a never ending loop, we had a call from my mum for a chat and to see if we were all alright and a call from Martin’s mum to do likewise. After dinner I sat with Kate listening to her read her school book, and then sat with Ben while he pretended to read one of his picture books because he wanted to do everything his big sister did, and then we played a couple of games of Frustration.

  Both Ben and Kate had asked where their dad was at different times during the day, and both times I’d explained again that Daddy was working away but would probably phone later and they could talk to him then. But by half seven bath time over and Ben and Kate in their pyjama’s Martin still hadn’t called. I decided that no matter what he was doing or who he was with I’d call him and he’d just have to deal with it. Not calling me was one thing but not calling his children after he’d promised he would was quite another.

  ‘Hi Martin, you didn’t call so I thought I’d call you.’

  ‘Soph I can’t talk right now’ Martin said.

  ‘Oh . . . why not?’

  ‘Everyone’s going out for something to eat.’

  ‘Everyone?’

  ‘Yeah there’s about six of us and the place we’re staying in won’t do an evening meal tonight so we’re all going out.’

  ‘I see’ I said not seeing at all. ‘Surely you can spare five minutes to say goodnight to Ben and Kate they’ve been waiting all day to speak to you.’

  ‘I can’t Soph there’s a taxi bus waiting to take us to town, I’ll phone you later.’

  ‘Later Ben and Kate will be in bed asleep, and anyway you keep saying you’ll phone later but then you never do which is why I’m phoning you’ I said trying not to get too irate.

  ‘Okay but it’ll have to be quick’ Martin said all huffy.

  I passed the phone to Kate and she said ‘hello Daddy when are you coming home?’ That’s my girl I thought, don’t mess about with the niceties just say what’s on your mind.

  She listened for a moment and then said ‘but that’s ages away’, clearly Martin had told her it was going to be nearly four weeks before he came home. ‘Okay goodnight Daddy’ she sighed and passed the phone to Ben.

  I’ve no idea what Martin said to Ben as Ben just nodded a lot and then eventually said a short and sweet ‘goodnight’ before giving the phone back to me.

  ‘I really have to go now they’re all waiting for me’ Martin said agitatedly.

  ‘And you’ll phone me back later right?’ I said stiltedly and heavy on the sarcasm.

  ‘Of course, I was going to anyway but then Lenny suggested that we all . . .’

  ‘Yeah don’t bother. You go and have your meal with all your new mates’ I said.

  ‘But Soph you don’t understand’ Martin said.

  ‘Oh I do understand, I understand only too well. You’re with Lenny that’s all the explanation needed. Bye Martin’ I said and hung up.

  I was fuming but as Ben and Kate were right there listening to every word and
watching my every move I had to somehow contain all my anger. I managed to keep a smile on my face and placate them with lies like ‘Daddy’s very busy and that’s why he couldn’t stay on the phone for long’, and thankfully they bought it and after a story apiece settled down to sleep.

  The children now safely tucked up in bed I went back downstairs and for the rest of the evening fumed away having a mad one-sided argument with an invisible Martin saying all the things I hadn’t been able to say when he was on the phone.

  In the dream life Martin would phone me back and apologise over and over again explaining that there was some life threatening reason why he hadn’t been able to stay on the phone, and then I’d apologise for having given him such a hard time under the circumstances and all would be forgiven and forgotten.

  In reality just like I’d told him to Martin didn’t bother phoning back.

  Maybe in my dream life I wouldn’t have been married to Martin at all.

  12

  Monday had flown past in a whirl of hoovering and cleaning-in-general including the downstairs windows. I’d even mowed the grass and cleaned the mower before putting it away. I was still pretty angry and had two choices, either I moped about all day rehearsing all the insults and complaints I’d chuck at Martin the next time he phoned, or I’d keep really busy so I didn’t have time to think; the second option won by a whisker.

  Martin phoned at about a quarter to seven that evening to say goodnight to Ben and Kate and he managed to have at least a bit of a conversation with them, although in Ben’s case it was almost totally one sided again as Ben really didn’t like talking to people on the phone and would nod a lot with only sporadic one word, one syllable answers, that’s if you were lucky. It had been Martin’s first day on site but I was still so mad at him I didn’t bother asking how it had gone, our conversation had been no more than ten words and two of those had been hello and goodbye.

  This morning, Tuesday, I was back at work which was a mixed blessing. On the one hand I could vent all my frustration to a sympathetic ear or two namely those of Julie and Dianne, but on the other hand it was still work.

  ‘So that was my weekend’ I said to Julie and Dianne as we drunk our first coffee of the day in the back room and I’d finished explaining everything that had happened since the last time I’d seen them. It had only been three and a bit days but felt more like three and a bit months.

  ‘Sounds to me like something’s going on’ Julie said. ‘I mean I know your Martin’s a bit of an idiot when it comes to doing and saying the right thing but this seems like a bit more than the average insensitive man disease they all suffer from.’

  ‘Like what?’ I said.

  ‘I don’t know, like things in Spain aren’t quite what he was expecting.’

  ‘Maybe things in Spain are exactly what he was expecting and he’s having such a good time he can’t be bothered with me and the kids anymore’ I said bitterly.

  ‘I doubt if that’s it, even if he was ticked off with you for some reason he dotes on Ben and Kate and I’m sure he wouldn’t upset them if he could help it. And anyway you said he was sorry to go and was being nice to you and everything on Friday’ Julie said.

  ‘Yeah and laughing and joking with bloody Lenny before they’d even reached the top of the road.’

  ‘I think Julie’s right’ Di said. ‘If this was all some master plan to dump you and the children he wouldn’t go all the way to Spain to do it would he?’

  ‘Maybe’ I said. ‘Maybe it wasn’t a master plan exactly, actually I don’t think Martin’s ever in his whole life had a master plan about anything, but maybe now he’s there and with bloody Lenny encouraging him he’s realised he can have a much better time without all of us.’

  ‘Mm’ Julie said thoughtfully but I wish she hadn’t. I’d only been spouting off and was fully expecting her to tell me I was being stupid and that insensitive man disease or not Martin would never do that. I wasn’t expecting her to give serious consideration as to whether Martin was having a one man mutiny.

  ‘So you think he really might be enjoying himself so much that he’s forgotten all about us or he’s trying to?’ I said.

  ‘No . . . well he could be I suppose . . . but no Martin’s not like that’ Julie said.

  ‘You see . . . even you are thinking it’s possible, and what other explanation can there be?’ I said.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Di said.

  ‘Nothing I can do, just wait and see what happens I guess.’

  Greg came out the back to chase us up and tell us once again that we shouldn’t all be out here at the same time, so any further speculation on what might or might not be going on was suspended for the time being.

  Mrs Shortland came in for her usual monthly trim, and Carol from the bakers over the road wanted her roots done. Old Miss Berkley had a perm which was always a bit of a trial as she never went anywhere without Trudi her beloved Yorkshire terrier; she’d sit the dog on a nearby chair tying it to the back so it couldn’t run away but the dog just barked or whined the whole time. There were a couple of wash and blow dry’s and that was it really, a busy enough day as Tuesdays go but we weren’t exactly rushed off our feet. I’d gone back to part time with Martin being away so by half two I was done for the day.

  I popped in to the Tesco’s express and got a bit carried away as now I had the car I wouldn’t have to carry all the shopping on the bus, but as it turned out I didn’t have to carry anything anywhere because when I got to the checkout my card was declined. Of course I argued and blustered a bit with the girl on the till sure that she must have done something wrong or the card was playing up, but after three tries there was no doubt the card was definitely declined and I had to leave with a red face and no shopping whatsoever.

  I couldn’t understand it, as far as I knew there should have been about three hundred pounds in the bank. Maybe their machines were playing up in Tesco’s, or maybe the card had developed a mysterious fault. I phoned Cheryl, one of the other mums at school who only lived up the road, and asked her if she could please pick up Ben and Kate for me as I’d been delayed and then I marched straight across the road to the bank.

  After a lengthy explanation to the snooty girl on customer services she huffed and puffed and sighed a lot and then sneeringly showed me our bank statement on her computer screen that clearly displayed a balance of five pounds and forty six pence. It also showed a recent withdrawal of two hundred and eighty one pounds and thirty four pence. Naturally I argued and blustered again saying someone must have hacked the account as I certainly hadn’t withdrawn a large amount like that or recently paid an amount like that to anyone. She huffed and puffed again and after tapping a few more buttons said the money had been taken out in Spain, three hundred and fifty euros to be precise which had converted to two hundred and eighty one pounds and thirty four pence including the bank charges they’d whacked on for the privilege of having it converted to sterling.

  I left the bank in a daze. What the hell was Martin playing at? He knew only too well how short we were of funds at the moment and were balancing everything down to the last penny, so what was he doing drawing out three hundred and fifty euros?

  There was no point in phoning him now at this time of day as he’d be on site working, at least he should have been on site working but maybe he wasn’t, maybe he’d run away somewhere . . . run away with all our money.

  For once I didn’t think about the dream life or how this could somehow all be magically explained away, in the dream life things like this just didn’t happen.

  Much as I could have done with a day or two to just sit and ponder on the meaning of it all I had to get my act together and go and collect the children from Cheryl’s. I drove home on autopilot, although it was more like autopilot in a bit of a trance as I jumped a red light but didn’t even notice until I almost caused an accident and the other driver bibbed loudly at me while shouting obscenities, after that I tried to pay a bit more attention.
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br />   Somehow I managed to get through tea and an early bath time. The plan was to get Ben and Kate in bed before Martin phoned so that when he did, if he did, I could talk to him without little ears listening.

  The children were safely tucked up in bed and I’d explained to them that I needed to talk to Daddy about something important tonight so they wouldn’t be able to say goodnight to him but they could talk for twice as long tomorrow to make up for it. Kate was very serious and nodded sagely as if she understood only too well why parents needed to have important conversations every now and then, and Ben just said a good natured ‘okay’ and left it at that.

  I sat in the kitchen waiting for the call silently rehearsing all the things I would say, and at ten past seven the call came.

  ‘Hello Martin’ I said cheerfully with only a hint of the aggression I felt.

  ‘Hi Soph, everything alright?’ Martin said picking up straight away on my mood.

  ‘Oh yes everything’s just peachy.’

  ‘Okay that’s good’ Martin said tentatively. ‘I phoned to say goodnight to Kate and Ben.’

  ‘Yes I know that, but they’re already in bed.’

  ‘Oh . . . am I late or did they go up early?’

  ‘No, well you are a bit late and yes they did go up early, I thought we needed to talk’ I said enigmatically.

  ‘Oh’ was all he said.

  ‘Aren’t you going to ask me what about?’

  ‘Um . . . okay what about?’ Martin said not quite managing to pull off sounding innocent.

  ‘Is there anything you’d like to tell me?’ I said.

  ‘Tell you? . . . No I don’t think . . .’ he started to say.

  ‘No you certainly don’t think. What did you do with the money Martin?’ I barked at him.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Is that it, all you can say is oh?’

  ‘Okay yes I did take some money out of the account.’

  ‘Some? Some money? Martin you cleaned us out. I couldn’t get any shopping today the card was declined’ I shouted angrily.

 

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