by Sarah Hope
I bustle about in the kitchen for a minute or two before I hear shouted expletives coming from the driveway. What on earth is wrong with Mandy? I know she doesn’t like her dad at the minute, but by the way she’s been acting I thought she was just going to give him the silent treatment, not start another argument. Oh well, she’ll stop in a minute and get in the car.
Oh she’s still shouting. Okay, maybe something has happened. Maybe she’s hurt herself or something. Rushing to the front door I stub my toe on the door frame.
‘Mandy, what’s happened? What’s the matter?’
‘Mum, I’m not going. I’m not going with her in the car.’ Mandy rants. I follow the direction her finger is pointing until it falls upon a blonde woman sat in the passenger seat.
What on earth does he think he’s doing? As if it’s not bad enough that Charlie has seen him holding another woman’s hand in broad daylight? He bloody well brings her with him on his first day taking the kids out. He knows how Mandy is feeling, how screwed up she is with the whole separation. How can he seriously have thought this was a good idea?
Oh no, the tart’s getting out of the car now. What’s she going to do? Introduce herself? Although I can feel the rage building up in me a sadistic part of me is observing Ste dithering in the middle of the driveway, unsure whether to come towards me and speak or run and bundle his tart back into the car. One thing’s for sure, he’s finding Mandy’s outburst very embarrassing if the colour of his face is anything to go by.
The tart is the nurse who snubbed me behind the nurses’ station when I went to look for Ste in the hospital. How dare she turn up at my house and join my kids on a day to the zoo? I’ll give her a piece of my mind, I will. She won’t know what’s hit her. Here she comes around the front of the car now. Well I’m ready.
What the...? She can’t be. She is, she’s bloody pregnant. Pregnant. And showing. More than showing, she must be at least seven months gone looking at the size of her. Stumbling back I catch the door frame telling myself to breathe. Things slow down around me like in one of those soppy movies. Watching, I see Ste look at me and I hear him call to his tart to get back in the car. He begins to approach me. Turning my head I see Mandy stood alone in the middle of the driveway staring. Just staring. All swearing and shouting have stopped. She must be piecing things together. Like me. Panning out I search for Charlie. Sitting in the car he’s seemingly oblivious to the fact that the world has started to spin in the wrong direction.
Ste stops about three feet away from me. Probably scared I might lash out at him. But I can’t. I’d like to. But my body and even my brain has stopped. This must be how people feel when they scream but no sound comes out of their mouths.
‘I’m sorry.’ This is all I get from a shifty looking Ste who ducks his head and walks away back to his car. He doesn’t even flinch when Mandy comes to and starts following him, shouting and pulling him back by the sleeve of his coat. He just keeps walking, staring straight ahead until he gets to the car, prises her fingers off and gets in.
Then they’re gone. Ste, Tart and Charlie. Off to the zoo as planned I assume. Looking around I notice Mandy running off down the road.
‘Mandy, Mandy.’ Her name falls on deaf ears as she continues on her way. No doubt she’s going to Holly’s or Kayleigh’s. At least she’ll be safe there.
Somehow I get inside the house and find myself slumped at the kitchen table with a bottle of red in front of me. With shaking hands I pour the wine into Charlie’s empty Ben Ten cup. It splashes onto the table. This doesn’t feel like my life anymore. Everything I believed to be true isn’t. I thought me and Ste were happily married. We weren’t. I thought he would never replace me. He has. I thought he wasn’t capable of cheating. He did. He said he didn’t want any more children. He obviously did, just not with me. My rapidly quickening breath is making me feel dizzy. Sinking my head onto the table I try to shut the world out by covering my head with my arms. When Mandy was little we would play hide and seek and she would just cover her eyes instead of hiding. She believed if she couldn’t see us, then we couldn’t see her. It doesn’t work. It just makes everything in my head appear bigger and clearer.
Ste isn’t coming back. He has replaced me. And now he’s replacing my kids. Our kids. How dare he? I know I should feel anger and resentment. Maybe deep down I do. But I’m too tired to think. I’m too tired to be angry. All I feel is despair. Deep, deep despair. The love of my life has been taken from me. He’s gone. My life is falling apart.
I don’t know how long I’ve sat here but the whole bottle has gone. I don’t even remember pouring another cupful. It’s now that I notice the tears streaming down my face. What am I supposed to do now? The avenged wife? Am I supposed to be cutting up his clothes? I don’t have the energy and he’s taken most of them anyway. Empty his bank account? Run up his credit card bill? What’s the point? Nothing will hurt him like this has torn me apart.
I notice I have put my hands on my belly. That’s what’s hurting the most. Ste refused to have another baby with me. Kept stalling. This is why. He had obviously been planning his departure for a while. For ages. He knew what he was doing. How could he? How could anyone treat another human being like he has treated me? He’s not the person I thought he was. The Ste I thought I knew would never have even considered leaving his family. Let alone cheating and buying a shag pad for his mistress. It would have never entered his mind to build a new family. Maybe it’s me who’s stupid. Maybe it’s all my fault. After all, if I had noticed and put two and two together I could have stopped this from getting this far. I could have won him back. There must have been signs. I guess there was. His promotion, but supposedly no wage increase. The late nights that turned into weekends working. How thick am I? He’s right. If I hadn’t been so preoccupied with Mum. If I had focused more energy and time into my kids and husband, this would never have happened. It is all my fault and now it’s me who’s suffering. I probably deserve to but my kids don’t.
I bang my aching head on to the table in an attempt to clear my thoughts but they just keep coming back. When did it all go wrong? Was it after Mum was taken into her care home? Or even before that?
Heaving myself out of the chair I search for more wine. Damn, the wine rack’s empty. When did that happen? And why am I crying over that? If I can’t have wine to numb these feelings what will help? Behind sore eyes I stagger into the living room and throw myself into my usual corner of the sofa. Curling up into a foetal position I try to block the world out again. I feel hollow one minute and blinding anger the next. Anger towards myself and him, but mainly towards myself. My emotions are on a rollercoaster. Each time the image of that tart with her big, rounded belly pops into my mind’s eye it draws a fresh blow in the pit of my stomach and it’s not long until I have to rush to the downstairs loo and heave.
Coming round to the sound of the doorbell I realise I am slouched in the dark. Standing, I am almost pulled back onto the sofa by my aching muscles. Forcing myself up I grope for the light switch. It’s seven o’clock already. It must be Charlie. And Ste.
Opening the door Charlie runs in and launches into an excited garble about the zoo. He then announces that Ste brought him a new Playstation game and can he play it before going to bed? Without waiting for an answer he pounds upstairs to try it out. Ste brushes past me as he lets himself in and makes his way to the kitchen. Following him, I notice he has not taken his shoes off.
In the kitchen I lift my head and meet Ste’s eyes. It’s at that moment the missing rage jumps on me and I struggle to focus on him.
‘You got her pregnant. You have the bloody audacity to blame the breakdown of our marriage partly on the fact that I was trying to force you into having another baby. With me. Your wife. You can’t have one with your wife but you can with your mistress. What bloody messed up world do you live in? How dare you?’
‘I...’
‘How stupid can you get, bringing her here? To my house? To pick up my kids? Why?
Why would you do that? Because you wanted to rub my nose in the fact that you want her children and not mine? That you want to build a family with her instead of trying to preserve the one you already have? Or is it just because you were too bloody spineless to tell me she was bloody pregnant? Is that it? You thought you would show me instead? Do you not care how your children feel? You bring surprise after surprise on them. But hey, as long as you’re okay. As long as all is fine and dandy in Ste world. I can’t ...’
‘Look I’m sorry. I realise it’s not the most intelligent thing I’ve done. I should have told you before springing it on you like that.’
‘Don’t you bloody interrupt me you spineless coward. Of course it’s not intelligent. Bringing your pregnant tart to take your kids out,’ Collapsing into the nearest dining chair, I wipe the tears from my cheeks.
‘You didn’t want another child with me,’ I whisper.
‘Whatever you think of me. I didn’t want another kid with you or anyone. It was an accident. It wasn’t planned. But it happened and I have to stick by her.’
‘What?!’ A hollow disbelieving laugh escapes, ‘You’re sticking by her because she’s pregnant? For the good of the child, right?’
‘Yes, it’s the right thing to do.’
‘What about the kids you already have? Mandy and Charlie? Or have you forgotten about them again?’ I wish I had the energy to fight.
‘No, not at all. But Cindy needs, me and our baby needs me too. I can’t just leave them.’
‘Huh? No but you can just leave your wife and your kids? The ones that are here already and that you had in wedlock. Remember that day? When you promised to stand by me?’
‘Look, I’m not going through this again. I’ve got to get back.’
‘Sorry to keep you. After all I’m only your wife,’ My words fall on his retreating back and with a bang of the door he’s gone back into the arms of Tart Cindy. Silly cow.
I don’t think I can cry anymore. I don’t have any tears left in me. Instead I drag myself up and go upstairs to get Charlie ready for bed.
With Charlie safely tucked up in bed, clinging on to his new game as if he’s worried someone might prise it from his fingers, I head downstairs again. Still no sign of Mandy. Checking my watch I see it’s twenty past eight already. She knows she must be home before nine. No doubt she’ll come in just past, always one to push the boundaries. I may as well have a shower now; I’ve nothing better to do with my time before she comes in.
However hard I scrub myself I cannot wash away the truth of today. After almost half an hour in the shower I still feel as dirty and unwanted as I did before. Ste’s words still hang over me. Feeling numb I dress myself in my pyjamas and head back downstairs.
It’s half nine now and Mandy’s still not back, or at least I don’t think she is. Heading back upstairs to check she hasn’t sneaked in while I was in the shower I remind myself what a shock she’s had today. She’s probably still talking to Kayleigh or Holly and trying to make sense of it all.
I’ll ring and check she’s okay and that Kayleigh or Holly’s parents are okay to give her a lift. It’s pitch black outside now and I don’t want her walking home by herself.
Back downstairs I try Holly’s parents first.
‘Hi, it’s Lynette, Mandy’s mum. Is Mandy still there please?’
‘Oh hi Lynette, no she’s not been round today. We’ve been out to Holly’s cousin’s house today. Sorry.’
‘Sorry to disturb you then. She must be at Kayleigh’s. Thanks.’ I knew I should have tried Kayleigh’s house first.
‘Hi, it’s Lynette. Can I talk to Mandy please?’
‘Hello Lynette. I was just about to call you. Kayleigh walked Mandy home at about six and she’s not come back yet. I assumed she was at yours. Has she been over?’
‘No, Mandy’s been out all day. Were they going somewhere on the way back?’
‘No. Kayleigh said she’d walk Mandy home and come straight back. I just assumed they’d got chatting.’ I can hear my rising panic reflected in her voice.
‘I’ll try Mandy’s mobile and get back to you when I know where they are.’ I quickly ring off not waiting for her to respond and tap Mandy’s number into the phone. No answer. Shit where is she? Where have they been all this time?
After calling Kayleigh’s mum back I’m really starting to worry, she can’t get hold of Kayleigh either. Where the hell are they?
Where else might she be? Who else might they be hanging around with? Her address book, that’s where I’ll find the answer. I can ring her round other friends. I leg it up the stairs two at a time.
Coming into Mandy’s room feels strange with her not being here. There’s an eerie silence as opposed to the usual din coming from her IPod speakers. Clothes everywhere, no wonder I hardly ever have any of her dirty washing. It’s covering the carpet.
Now, where would she keep her address book? It soon becomes clear it’s not in any of the most obvious places. Not on her bedside table. Not next to her landline on her desk.
What’s that? It’s the phone. It might be Mandy. I bet her phone has gone flat and she’s had to borrow someone else’s when she realised the time.
‘Hello, Mandy? I‘ve been worried...’
‘It’s not Mandy Mrs Andrews,’ I know that voice though she sounds a million miles away, small and high pitched, ‘it’s Kayleigh.’
‘Oh thank goodness. Hi Kayleigh. Has Mandy’s phone gone flat? I keep telling her to charge it up.’ Typical teenager.
‘No, we ...um...we’re at the hospital.’
‘Hospital?’ I manage to repeat, the word coming out hoarse, ‘Is Mandy there too? What’s happened? Is she okay?’
‘She...she’s not well. Something’s happened. Can you come down please?’ She sounds scared and young.
‘What’s happened? Kayleigh, tell me please what’s happened to Mandy? Is she okay?’
‘No, she’s been drinking. I told her not to. I tried to stop her. I did. I promise. I’m sorry Mrs Andrews. The doctors think she has alcohol poisoning.’ The way her voice catches tells me she’s crying.
Alcohol poisoning? Mandy drinking? Mandy doesn’t drink. She’s not old enough. Replacing the receiver, the sharp metallic taste of panic rises into my mouth and almost makes me heave. Racing upstairs into Charlie’s room I bundle him into my arms.
‘Mum, Mum what’s going on?’ his muffled voice breaks the silence.
‘Sit down on the bottom step, that’s it. Keep your feet still while I put your trainers on,’ These bloody Velcro straps, any other time they’re the easiest shoes to put on. Oh well they’ll be fine half undone.
‘Mum, where are we going?’
‘To Rachel’s house. I need to pop out.’ In his half asleep daze he doesn’t question me further, thank goodness. Slamming the front door behind me I drag him across the garden to Rachel’s door.
Come on, come on Rachel answer the door.
Please come on, I haven’t time to wait.
‘Rachel, Rachel?’ No answer.
Shit, she must still be at her out. What do I do? I can’t take him with me. Looking round I notice a light still on across the road. Crap it’s Mrs Reynolds’ bungalow, the street busy body.
‘This way.’
‘Where are we going now? I thought we were going to Rachel’s?’
‘Change of plan.’
Please answer the door, please. Peering through the glass window in the door I can see lights on. I know you’re there Mrs Reynolds, come on.
Chapter Fifteen
Enid
‘Mum. Where’s Father?’ The pork, potato and carrots are looking scrummy. For the first time in weeks I’m beginning to get my appetite back, and right now I’ m as hungry as a horse most of the time. I stretch my top out a bit more from my rounding belly.
‘I don’t know love,’ Mum looks at me, ‘you better go change before he comes in though, that top is looking a bit tight.’
She’s right. We’re so
close now. Mum thinks we’ll have enough money saved by the end of the week. Enough for a train ticket each to get us up north somewhere, maybe Scarborough or Whitby, plus a few months’ rent on a bedsit or something. That’ll get us past the birth and then she can look for a job somewhere. Jumping up, I run upstairs and change. I can’t wait. It’s strange keeping my baby a secret from my friends, especially Betty. I so want to tell her but I know I have to wait until we are as far away from here as possible. Then at least I can send her a telegram and explain.
Ah this is better, not that I like this worn, bobbly red jumper but at least it hides my ever increasing bump.
‘That’s better love. Afraid he’s still not back. We’ll give it another ten minutes or so and then we’ll have to eat ours or it will get cold.’
Nodding, I hope he’s back soon. It always puts him in a bad mood if we’ve eaten without waiting for him.
Oh! What’s that?
‘Mum, I think I just felt my baby kick!’
‘Really? That’s lovely.’ Mum hurries over, tea towel in hand and places her hand over my bump. ‘I remember the first time I felt you kick. It was such a precious moment, knowing for definite that there was a small life inside of me. Apart from the monthlies stopping that’s the first real proof of ... oh yes, that is a real little kick!’
‘It is isn’t it? I’ve been feeling butterflies for a while but kept telling myself it was probably wind or something.’ There my baby goes again. Feeling a warm glow spreading up from my tummy to fill my heart I give Mum a hug.
The yard gate crashes shut and I jump back from Mum and return to my seat at the kitchen table.
Sitting still, I hardly move a muscle as I always do when Father gets home. Mum fidgets by the sink, washing up or at least pretending to. I know what she’s doing really. She’s watching Father stumbling through the yard. And she knows I’m sat watching her. Watching for her reaction. The degree to which he staggers will show Mum how drunk he is. I take my cue from Mum, depending on how restlessly she stands depends on how much he has been drinking.
