‘No, you give it all to Stanley—’
‘Are we feeding the ducks?’ he asked when their thundering footsteps had receded, and she shrugged.
‘I don’t know. I am, and they are. Are you going to deign to join us?’
‘Luce, that’s bloody unfair—
‘No, it’s not. You’re bloody unfair. And don’t swear in front of Lottie.’
He clamped his teeth together on the retort and turned to the kettle.
‘For heaven’s sake, Lucy, you’re being totally unreasonable. I didn’t have a choice, I let you know, I apologised—’
‘So that’s all right, is it? You apologised, so it makes it all OK? What about our marriage vows, Andy? Don’t they mean anything to you any more? Don’t I mean anything? Don’t we? Us, you and me, and the children we’ve had together? Because right now it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like we no longer have a marriage.’
He turned and stared at her as if she was mad. ‘Of course we do,’ he said, his voice slightly impatient as if her faculties were impaired. ‘It’s just a rough time. We’re ridiculously understaffed at work till James gets back, and I’m trying to get this assignment done, but it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with our marriage.’
‘Doesn’t it? Just sleeping here for a few hours a night doesn’t qualify as marriage, Andy. Being here, wanting to be here—that’s a marriage, not taking every shift that’s going and filling your life with one academic exercise after another just so you can avoid us!’
‘Now you’re really being ridiculous! I don’t have time for this—’
‘No, of course you don’t, that would involve talking to me, having a conversation! And we all know you won’t do that!’
He stalked off, shut the study door firmly and left her there fuming, the subject once again brushed aside.
* * *
He watched them go, listened to the girls’ excited chatter, the dog whining until the door was opened, then trotting beside Lucy and the buggy while the girls dashed ahead, pausing obediently on the edge of the pavement.
They went out of the gate and turned right, and Lucy glanced back over her shoulder. She couldn’t see him, he was standing at the back of the study with Emily’s words ringing in his ears, but he could read the disappointment and condemnation in her eyes.
He’d been about to go out into the hall, to say he’d go with them, but then he’d heard Em ask if he was coming.
‘No,’ Lucy had replied. ‘He’s too busy.’
‘He’s always too busy,’ Emily had said, her voice sad and resigned, and he’d felt it slice right through him.
He should have gone out into the hall there and then and said he was joining them. It wasn’t too late even now, he could pull his boots on and catch up, they wouldn’t have got far.
But he didn’t. He really, really had to finish this assignment today, so he watched them out of sight, and then he went into the kitchen, put some toast in, switched the kettle on again and made a pot of coffee. His hand shook slightly as he poured the water onto the grounds, and he set the kettle down abruptly.
Stress. It must be stress. And no wonder.
He tipped his head back and let out a long, shaky sigh. God, he’d got some work to do to make up for this. Em’s voice echoed in his head. Daddy, you broke a promise. After all he’d said to them, everything he believed in, and he’d let them down. Lucy should have explained to them, but frankly it didn’t sound as if she herself understood.
Well, she ought to. She was a doctor, too, a GP—or she had been until they’d had Lottie. She was still on maternity leave, debating going back again part time as she had before, just a couple of sessions a week.
He didn’t want her to go back, thought the children needed her more than they needed the money, and it was yet another bone of contention. They seemed to be falling over them all the time, these bones.
The skeleton of their marriage?
He pressed the plunger and poured the coffee, buttered his toast with Emily’s knife and then pulled a face at the streak of chocolate spread smeared in with the butter. He drowned it out with bitter marmalade, and sat staring out at the bedraggled and windswept garden.
He couldn’t remember when they’d last been out there doing anything together. June, maybe, when Lottie was three months old? He’d mowed the lawn from time to time, but they hadn’t cut the perennials down yet for the winter, or trimmed back the evergreens, or cleared the summer pots and tubs. Lucy had been preoccupied with Lottie, and he’d been too busy to do anything other than go to work, come home to eat and then shut himself in the study until he was too tired to work any longer. If he’d made it into the sitting room so he could be with Lucy, he’d had the laptop so he could carry on working until he fell into bed.
He must have been mad taking on the course, but it was nearly done now, this one last assignment the finish of it. That, and the exam he had to sit in a fortnight. Lord knows when he’d find time to revise for that. Lucy was taking the kids away to her parents for half term to give him some time to concentrate, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough, not if he was at work all day. And there was still this blasted assignment to knock on the head.
Refilling his mug, he took his coffee back into the study, shut the door and had another go at making sense of that overly wordy and meaningless paper.
Or maybe he should just ignore it and press on without referring to it. Then he could finish the assignment off this morning, and tonight he could take Lucy out and try and make it up to her.
Good idea.
* * *
‘Don’t cook for us, I’m taking you out for dinner.’
Lucy looked at him as if he was mad. ‘Have you got a babysitter?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Well, good luck with that. Anyway, I don’t want to go out for dinner.’
He stared at her, stunned. He’d bust a gut finishing off the assignment so he could spare the time, and now this? ‘Why ever not? You like going out for dinner.’
‘Not when we’re hardly speaking! It’s not my idea of fun to sit opposite you while you’re lost in thought on some stupid assignment or other for a course you’ve taken on without consulting me—’
‘Well, what do you want to do?’
‘I don’t want to do anything! I want you to talk to me! I want you to share decisions, not just steam ahead and do your own thing and leave us all behind! I want you to put the kids to bed, read them a story, give me a hug, bring me a cup of tea. I don’t need extravagant gestures, Andy, I just need you back.’
He sighed shortly, ramming his hand through his hair. ‘I haven’t gone anywhere, Lucy. I’m doing this for all of us.’
‘Are you? Well, it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like you’re just shutting us out, as if we don’t matter as much as your blasted career—’
‘That’s unfair.’
‘No, it isn’t! You’re unfair. Neglecting your children is unfair. When did you last put Lottie to bed?’
He swallowed hard and turned away. ‘Luce, it’s been chaos—’
‘Don’t give me excuses!’
‘It’s not an excuse, it’s a reason,’ he said tautly. ‘Anyway, I’m around tomorrow. We’ll do something then, all of us.’
‘Are you sure? You aren’t going to find something else to do?’
‘No! I’m here. All day. I promise.’
‘And I’m supposed to believe that?’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, I haven’t got time for this. I’ve got work to do—’
‘Of course you have. You always have work to do, and it’s always more important than us. I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with you.’
This time she was the one who walked off. She shouldered past him, went into the utility room, shut the door firmly and
started to tackle the ironing while Lottie was napping.
* * *
His phone rang just before eleven that night, while he was printing off the hated assignment. HR? Really?
Really.
‘Oh, you’re kidding, Steve! Not again.’
‘Sorry, Andy. There isn’t anyone else. James isn’t back in the country until tomorrow, or I’d ask him. It’s just one of those things. I’ll sort a new locum first thing on Monday, I promise.’
He gave a heavy sigh and surrendered. ‘All right—but this is the last time, Steve. And you owe me, with bells on.’
He hung up, and sat there for a while wondering how on earth he was going to tell Lucy. She’d skin him alive.
And deservedly so.
He swore softly but succinctly under his breath, stacked the papers together, clipped them into a binder and put the assignment into an envelope without even glancing at it. It was too late to worry. It had to be there on Monday, and it was already too late to post it. He’d email it, but the hard copy would have to be couriered.
He’d do that on Monday morning, but now he was working all day tomorrow there was no time for any meaningful read-through before he sent it on its way. He’d only find some howler and, frankly, at this moment in time it seemed insignificant compared to telling Lucy that yet again he wasn’t going to be there for any quality time with her and the kids.
It was not a conversation he was looking forward to.
She was asleep by the time he went upstairs, and he got into bed beside her and contemplated pulling her into his arms and making love to her.
Probably not a good idea. He didn’t have the energy to do her justice and he had to be at work in seven hours. Cursing Steve and the sick locum and life in general, he shut his eyes, covered them with his arm and crashed into sleep.
The alarm on his phone woke him long before he was ready for it, and he silenced it and got straight out of bed before he could fall asleep again. Hell, he was tired. He stumbled into the bathroom, turned on the shower and got in without waiting for it to heat up.
The cold shocked him awake, and he soaped himself fast, towelled his body briskly and then ran the razor over his jaw. His hand was trembling again, he noticed, and he nicked himself.
Damn. It was the last thing he needed. He dried his face, leaving a bright streak of blood on the towel, and pressed a scrap of tissue over the cut to stem the bleeding while he cleaned his teeth.
He went back into the bedroom, leaving the bathroom door open so he could see to get his clothes out without putting on the bedroom light. He didn’t want to disturb Lucy—because he was hoping to sneak out without waking her? Probably, but it was too late for that, apparently.
‘Andy?’ she murmured, her voice soft with sleep. ‘Are you OK?’
Was he? Frankly, he had no idea. He pulled clothes out of the cupboard and started putting them on, and she propped herself up on one elbow and stared at him.
‘What are you doing, Andy? It’s Sunday morning. We don’t need to get up yet.’
‘I have to work. Steve rang last night, and I promised to do another shift—’
‘No! Why?’ She shoved herself up in the bed, dishevelled and sleepy and so beautiful she made his heart ache, her eyes filled with recrimination and disappointment. ‘Andy, you promised me! Why on earth did you agree? We don’t need the money, but we need you. The kids need you. I need you.’
‘And the hospital needs me—’
‘So put it first. Again. As always. Go on, go ahead—if that’s more important to you than us.’
‘Of course it’s not more important!’
‘Then don’t go!’
‘I have to! There’s nobody to cover the department.’
‘So they’ll have to shut it.’
‘They can’t. They can’t close the ED, Lucy, you’re being totally unreasonable.’
‘Well, you know what you can do, then. Go, by all means, but don’t bother coming home tonight, or any other night, because I can’t do this any more.’
He stared at her, slightly stunned. ‘Is that an ultimatum?’
‘Sounds like it to me.’
‘Oh, Lucy, for heaven’s sake, that’s ridiculous! You can’t make me choose!’
‘I don’t need to. Strikes me you already have. You come home after the children are asleep, you leave before they’re up—and when you’re here in the evening, you’re shut in your study or sitting behind your laptop screen totally ignoring me! What exactly do you think you’re bringing to this relationship?’
‘The money?’ he said sarcastically, and her face drained of colour.
‘You arrogant bastard,’ she spat softly. ‘We don’t need your money, and we certainly don’t need your attitude. I can go back to work for more days. I’m going back anyway next month for three sessions a week. They’ve asked me to, and I’ve said yes, and Lottie’s going to nursery. I’ll just do more hours, more sessions. They want as much time as I can give them, so I’ll give them more, if that’s what it takes.’
He stared at her, shocked. ‘When did they ask you? You didn’t tell me.’
‘When exactly was I supposed to tell you?’ she asked, her voice tinged with bitterness and disappointment. ‘You’re never here.’
‘That’s not true. I was here all day yesterday—’
‘Shut in your study doing something more important!’
‘Don’t be silly. This is important. You should have told me. You don’t need to go back to work.’
‘Yes, I do! I need to because if I don’t, I never get to have a sensible conversation with another adult, because you certainly aren’t around! You have no idea what it’s like talking to a seven month old baby all day, every day, with no relief from it except for the conversation of her seven and five year old sisters! I love her to bits, I love them all to bits, but I’m not just a mother, I’m a doctor, I’m a woman, and those parts of me need recognition. And they’re sure as hell not getting them from you!’
He sucked in his breath, stung by the bitterness in her voice. ‘Luce, that’s not fair. I’m doing it for us—’
‘No, you’re not! You’re doing it for you, for your precious ego that demands you never say no, always play the hero, always step up to the plate and never let your patients down. But you’re a husband and a father as well as a doctor, and you’re just sweeping all that under the mat. Well, newsflash, Gallagher, I’m not going to be swept under the mat any more. I don’t need the scraps of you left over from your “real” life, and nor do your children. We can manage without you. We do most of the time anyway. I doubt we’ll even notice the difference.’
He felt sick. ‘You don’t mean that. Where will you live?’
‘Here?’ she shrugged. ‘I can take over the mortgage.’
‘What, on a part-time salary? Dream on, Lucy.’
‘So we’ll move. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we’re happy, and we’re not at the moment, so go. Go to your precious hospital if you really must, but you have to realise that if you do, you won’t have a marriage to come back to, not even a lousy one.’
He stared at her, at the distress and anger and challenge in her eyes, and, for the briefest moment, he hesitated. Then, because he really had no choice, he turned on his heel and walked out of their bedroom and down the stairs.
She’d cool off. He’d give her time to think about it, time to consider all they’d be losing, and after he finished work, he’d come home and apologise, bring her some flowers and chocolates and a bottle of wine. Maybe a takeaway so she didn’t have to cook.
And he’d make love to her, long and slow, and she’d forgive him.
Two more weeks, he told himself grimly. Just two more weeks until the course was finished and the exam was over, and then they could sort this
out.
They’d be fine. It was just a rocky patch, everyone had them. They’d deal with it.
He scooped up his keys, shrugged on his jacket and left.
CHAPTER TWO
HE’D gone. Turned on his heel and walked out.
She’d heard the utility room door close, the garage door slide up, the car start. Slightly open-mouthed with shock, she’d sat there in their bed, the quilt fisted in her hands, and listened to the shreds of their marriage disappearing off the drive in a slew of gravel.
The silence that followed was deafening.
She couldn’t believe he’d gone. She’d thought—
What? That he’d stay? That he’d phone the hospital and tell them he couldn’t go in, his wife had thrown a strop and threatened to kick him out? Hardly. It wasn’t Andy’s style. If he didn’t talk to her, he sure as eggs didn’t talk to anyone else.
And he’d told Steve he’d do it, so it was set in stone. It seemed that everything except them was set in stone.
She felt a sob rising in her throat, but she crushed it ruthlessly. This wasn’t the time for tears. She had the children to think about. Later, maybe, after they were in bed again, she’d cry. For now, she could hear Lottie chatting in her cot, and she pushed the covers aside and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, heading for her baby on autopilot.
She’d pack him some clothes—just enough to tide him over, give him time to think about things—and drop them off at work. Maybe that would shock him to his senses, because something surely had to.
She walked into Lottie’s room, into the sunshine of her smile, and felt grief slam into her chest. What had their baby done to deserve this?
‘Hello, my precious,’ she crooned softly. ‘Oh, you’re so gorgeous—come here.’ She scooped the beaming baby up against her heart and hugged her tight. Delicious, darling child, she thought, aching for what was to come. The fallout from this didn’t bear thinking about.
But Lottie didn’t know and she didn’t care. She was beginning to whine now, pulling at Lucy’s top, and she took her back to bed and fed her.
From Christmas to Eternity Page 2
