The Torn Up Marriage

by Caroline Roberts

“Yes, that’s fine, just for a brief call.”

  “Will she be okay, just for a minute? And Lottie? That’s her sister there.”

  Lottie grinned sheepishly from the chair, where she’d been sat quietly watching everything going on.

  “Hi, Lottie. Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on them while you phone.”

  It was one call he really didn’t want to have to make. This had happened on his watch, after all. He should have looked in on Emily again earlier, instead of getting caught up with work. He stepped outside the cubicle, stayed near, though, in case he was needed. Glanced at his watch. It was 12.40 now. She’d most likely be in bed. It rang for a while.

  Kate, her voice sleepy, “Hel-lo?”

  “Kate, it’s me, Michael. We’re at the hospital. It’s Emily.”

  “Oh, my God, is she alright? What is it, Michael?” Fear laced her tone.

  “Some kind of convulsion to do with her temperature, I think. The doctor’s still to see her. We’ll know more then. We’re at A & E, the Wansbeck.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can. How is she?”

  “She seems a bit more settled now.” He couldn’t tell her how scary it had been. How it felt as if she had died in his arms. And he hadn’t known what the fuck to do to help her.

  “I’m on my way.” She hung up.

  Michael could picture her, dashing for keys, coat, phone. The concerned frown etched across her brow. Wasting no time. Her girls were everything to her.

  She ran in through swing doors, bee-lined for the reception desk.

  “Where is she? My daughter, Emily Armstrong?”

  “Just one second, madam, I’ll check for you.”

  “She’s been admitted. I’ve spoken with my husband.” Her words were a rush; explanations a barrier between getting to see Emily.

  “Okay.” The receptionist had the calm tone of someone used to dealing with a crisis. It was her job. Fingers tip-tapping on her computer key board. The noise annoyed Kate.

  “Yes, she’s in the children’s triage area. Through the doors, just there. If you press the buzzer at the doors, a nurse will let you in.”

  Green doors with circular windows, keeping her out. The buzz at her fingertips. Please let her be alright. What the hell had gone on? How had she had some kind of seizure? What the hell had Michael been doing all the while?

  A young nurse appeared, “Mrs Armstrong? Come on through.”

  “How is she? Have you been dealing with her? Is she going to be okay?”

  “She’ll be fine now. This way.”

  She led her towards one of the curtained cubicles. Sterile scents in the air. Stark lights. A hush, then a low sob from behind a curtain they passed. The buzz of action as a new patient was brought in behind them.

  “The doctor’s just been to see her now. It seems the root of the problem was a severe ear infection,” the nurse explained.

  “Oh?” It had been a normal cough and cold when she’d left Emily with Michael. She had no sign of a temperature then. How hadn’t he noticed things had changed?

  The nurse seemed to sense her concerns, “These things can escalate quickly.” She smiled reassuringly. “Just in here.” She drew the curtain back. Emily was there on the bed, bare except for her pants. She looked so fragile. A tableau of Michael and Lottie beside her; Michael standing, Lottie on the chair.

  A soft moan, “Mumm-eee” from Emily.

  And her arms were around her in a protective hug. Guilt seeping through her veins. Why hadn’t she been there when it had all gone wrong? They shouldn’t be apart like this. Split weekends. Sharing them with their Dad.

  But it wasn’t her fault all this… It was fucking Michael and his affair.

  “Are you okay, petal? Feeling better now? Mummy’s here. It’s alright, it’s alright,” she soothed. Kate held her close, in an instinctive rocking motion.

  “They’ve just put a big stick thing in her ear, haven’t they Daddy? It’s an infection, that’s hurt her.” Lottie, ever the big sister, reporting on events.

  “Yes,” Michael explained, “The cause of the temperature is the ear infection. Poor Emmie. She had a febrile convulsion.” The image of her was stark in his mind again. He swallowed back a knot in his throat, “The doctor’s prescribed some antibiotics for her.”

  “Yes, I’ll go see if they’ve made it up yet,” the nurse added, “We’ll get some into her straight away. She’s already had some paracetamol, which has helped bring her temperature down. Then we’ll just need to keep an eye on her for a further hour or so. If her observations are okay then, she’ll be fine to go home.”

  Home, which home? Kate mused. Back with her, of course. She couldn’t trust bloody Michael to look after her, obviously.

  The nurse slipped out of the cubicle. Kate sat with Emily on the bed, stroking her hair.

  “How long have you been here?” Her green eyes were cold as they turned to Michael.

  “Ah, about an hour maybe?”

  “Why the hell didn’t you think of calling me earlier?” Em had obviously needed her. She tried to keep her tone low but the anger fizzed through.

  “Well,” he looked taken aback, “I was just dealing with the situation. I just needed to get her here… see the doctors.”

  “And why the hell didn’t you think of doing that earlier on today? Seeing a doctor? If she’s had a temperature. Before it ever got this far?”

  “She didn’t seem too bad earlier on. I–I just thought it was the cold. I gave her Calpol.” But he was floundering. Why hadn’t he guessed there was more to it? Had he taken too long to spot that something different was up? Would Kate have spotted that far earlier? Probably.

  “She didn’t seem too bad,” Kate mocked. “Christ, Michael, she’s ended up in hospital. Now I can’t even trust leaving them in your care any more.” Every nerve in her body was taut. What if it had got any worse? There might have been real long-lasting damage. Kate felt nauseous thinking about it. She forgot to keep her voice down, her anger simmering at the surface, “You’ve messed up everything. Our marriage… our family… You can’t even look after your own children properly.”

  Michael paled.

  The curtain swished, “Is everything alright here?” The young nurse was back.

  Kate looked embarrassed, it brought her back to the here and now. They needed to look after Emily, not be arguing. “I’m sorry.” She addressed the nurse rather than Michael.

  “I think Emily needs a bit of rest. Some quiet support.”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” Kate answered. Michael was nodding in silent agreement. He looked gutted.

  The nurse had the medicine in a plastic oral syringe. “Here, take this, Emily. It tastes a bit like strawberries… It’s the antibiotics,” she added for the benefit of Michael and Kate. “We’ll have you fighting fit in no time, sweetie.”

  “I think I’ll just go grab a coffee.” Michael moved a step back, “I ought to move the car, too. Think I left it in an awkward spot. Can I get you anything, Kate? Umn, Claire?”

  “There’s a vending machine just out in the front reception area. And no thanks, I have a break shortly,” Claire smiled at him. “Just buzz to come back in.” After he’d left the cubicle she looked across at Kate, “I couldn’t help but hear before… Don’t be too hard on him. These seizures can happen pretty much out of the blue with children of this age. He had tried to bring her temperature down with Calpol earlier in the evening, and he got her here pretty sharpish.”

  “Oh… I see,” Kate conceded, but the words of blame had already been spoken. Driving the wedge deeper between them. And her fragile trust in him had been splintered, yet again.

  Chapter 37

  She’d finally got the girls home safe and sound and tucked up in their beds just after 3:30 am. Her mind still spinning as she lay there on her side of the double bed. She’d left Michael with a brief goodbye at the hospital car park, he’d looked pale and shattered.

  They’d slept in till 11am. It was a Su
nday after all and they’d needed the rest. Kate kept Em off nursery for a few days, but she soon picked up and was asking to go back to see her friends by the Thursday, which allowed Kate to do her shift at the Citizens Advice. She enjoyed helping there, getting back to a work environment.

  Michael had called every day to see how the girls were, either on the phone or popping around in person for a half hour on his way back from work, spending time with Em and Lottie. He hadn’t asked to have them over the weekend. Just as well, Kate thought, she was really uncertain about letting them go back to stay with him so soon, though she knew she was probably overreacting. They were polite to each other, that was all. A coolness lingered between them. Everyday chit-chat masking blame and shame.

  He had the girls for the day the following Saturday, saying he’d bring them back for tea time. She hadn’t found it in herself to speak with him honestly yet, to apologise for overreacting at the hospital. She concentrated instead on looking after the girls, catching up on the chores, gardening.

  Sunday night and Emily was asking for her Pink Pony that she liked to take to bed with her. Kate had a feeling Em was clutching it as she had gone to the car with Michael for their day out, but it hadn’t come back home. She’d ring and ask him to bring it by in the morning on his way to work or something.

  “Yes, I fink Daddy might have it,” Emily said, adding seriously, “He might want it.”

  “Yes, that’s right. He might want to keep it, so he can think about us,” Lottie chipped in.

  A lump formed in Kate’s throat. Imagining him there in the flat missing the girls. Yes, she’d have to pluck up the courage and apologise next time they met. Of course the girls could go and stay over again. It was cruel to keep them apart.

  Emily piped up, “Wonder if Pink Pony will like seeing Minnie Mouse?”

  “S’pect so,” Lottie added. “I’d like to see Minnie Mouse, too.”

  Kate let the comment drift over her. Perhaps Emily had a new toy she kept there at the flat? And the pair of them were always playing make-believe.

  After settling her daughters and making herself a cup of tea, she tried Michael’s mobile. There was no answer, so she left a brief message. He could be out, she supposed. She didn’t really know what his normal habits were nowadays. Did he go to the gym of a Sunday evening, go running, have a couple of pints at a pub with Dan?

  Monday morning, the girls were off to school and nursery. Michael obviously hadn’t picked up the message as he hadn’t dropped off Pink Pony on his way to work. She tried his mobile again, still no answer, then thought about trying his office. She didn’t mind calling there now that Sophie had left.

  The new secretary said he was unavailable and wouldn’t be in the office for a few weeks, offering to put her through to Dave, Michael’s assistant. But she really didn’t think Dave would want to know about Pink Pony, so left it. It seemed strange, though, Michael having some time off like that. She’d try Dorothy.

  “Morning, Kate. How are you?”

  “Ah, fine thanks. And you, how are you feeling at the moment?”

  “Not too bad. Not so tired as I have been. And the radiotherapy seems to be going well. Had my first treatment two days ago.”

  “Good, that’s fantastic news. Look, I’m just struggling to get hold of Michael. And his secretary’s saying something odd about him being away for a while. It’s just that Em’s left her Pink Pony while she was with him. She was missing it last night.”

  “Oh, well I can settle that one, it’s here. Emily left it on the sofa. They came through on Saturday to see us. It was lovely to see the girls. So glad Emily is alright now. Such a scare… But Michael? Has he not told you?”

  “What do you mean?

  “Hasn’t he talked with you, Kate? Ahm,” she sounded a little awkward, “Well maybe he was going to do it from the airport… it’s all been rather a rush.”

  “Dorothy, what are you talking about?”

  “Well, darling, he’s off to New York. He’s going to start on that job he was offered… You do know about that, don’t you?”

  “Well, he had mentioned something in passing.” He’d had a job offer with a marketing firm, some old uni friend, said he felt flattered but there was no way he’d take it up – didn’t want to be away from the girls for so long.

  “Oh… Well, I’m surprised that he hasn’t told you about his decision.”

  Thinking about it, Kate wasn’t. She’d hardly spoken with him civilly since the incident in the hospital, and certainly not on any real personal level. But, she was trying to get her head around what Dorothy was telling her. Did the girls know any of this? Had he just upped and left without so much as a goodbye to any of them. The Minnie Mouse comment suddenly came to mind. “Do the girls know, Dorothy?”

  “Well, he explained a little on Saturday whilst they were here. But he didn’t want to upset or confuse them too much. Just said he was going away to do some work for a little while. That they’d be fine with Mummy.”

  Her knees felt all wobbly. She slipped down onto a kitchen chair. She should have spoken with him, explained she was just upset there at the hospital. It hadn’t all been his fault. What if it had happened on her watch? Would he not have let them go home with Kate, not have trusted them with her? He would never have blamed her in the same way, she knew that. Had she driven him away?

  “Dorothy, when does he go? When’s the flight?”

  “Well, it’s today, Kate. I’m really quite dumbfounded that he hasn’t told you.”

  “Do you know the time? Which airport?”

  “Edinburgh, late lunchtime. That’s as much as I know.”

  Kate was already Googling flights on her mobile as she spoke. “Thanks, Dorothy. I’ll speak again a bit later. I’ll try and have a word with him.”

  She tried his mobile again, straight to answerphone. He obviously wasn’t willing to pick up. There was only one thing for it.

  The cold plastic chairs of an airport lounge. Grey, they were always grey. Like the bloody hospital ones. So damned somber. Still, he’d be off soon, away over the Atlantic. This job should give him a new focus, a new challenge. Give them all a bit of space.

  He checked his mobile. The battery had gone flat earlier, so he’d been charging it in the car. A missed call from Kate. Should he ring her? If there’d been an emergency she’d have tried again, or his mum would have tried. He couldn’t face hearing her voice just now, reminding him what he was leaving, what he’d messed up. He’d ring as soon as he landed in New York and fill her in. Explain properly. For now he just needed to keep his focus, hold his nerve and get on that flight. Do the right thing by them.

  His guts still churned every time he thought of that moment when Emily stiffened in his arms. Had he acted quickly enough? He shouldn’t have let her get to that point, surely? He hadn’t had a damned thermometer. Christ, Kate was right, he couldn’t even be trusted to look after his own children. Maybe they would be better off without him. He’d messed their lives up so much this past year. And it had felt so tense between him and Kate since that night in the hospital – he felt further from her than ever. So, he’d give them a bit of space to settle down. Get on with this new opportunity, help his mate set up this marketing company in New York. Dave was going to oversee his Alnwick office for the next month, and then… well, he had some big decisions to make.

  He screwed up the empty cardboard coffee cup he held in his hand, He’d go find a bin. That’d pass a few more minutes. He’d go buy a newspaper, too. There was still a bit of time before they’d be calling his flight to the gate.

  Whizzing along the A1. Each side of the road a landscape of hills, patchwork country fields. Then the dramatic sweep of coastline past Berwick-upon-Tweed. The blue-grey expanse of the sea seeming to mock her, reminding her of the distance to come between them. Would she get there in time?

  The New York flight was scheduled to leave at 1:25 pm. The journey would take her about an hour and a half. And it was past 11:30 a
m now. But what if he’d already got through check-in and security? Would she even be allowed to see him or speak to him? If only he’d pick up his bloody phone. If she could just get the chance to explain, say sorry for overreacting in the hospital… Was he going away for good? Would this be it for them? Just the occasional visit home? Maybe she’d take the girls out for a holiday once in a blue moon. With an ocean to cross, how could they rebuild bridges.

  She was surprised to find she was crying. Big, fat, ploppy tears – well, that was no damned good. She was bloody well driving, and she didn’t have time to pull over and stop. She swiped the back of her hand across her cheeks. Get a grip, woman! Just get to the airport. And see what happens next.

  She’d organised Mel to collect the girls, another favour called in. She certainly owed her a few back. But Mel never seemed to mind. She was such a lovely friend. Now that thought made Kate well up even more. She sniffed back the tears and concentrated on the road. There was a big truck ahead to pass. She needed to keep a clear head. Oh and bugger, a queue of traffic. No. No. No.

  A slow-moving trail of vehicles snailed all the way to the next roundabout; a bloody tractor crawling along at the front. Another stretch of dual carriageway. Foot down. Suburbs, blocks of flats, semi-detached houses. Now she was in the city, she wasn’t even quite sure where she had to go. Spotted an airport sign. Trailing a route through traffic lights, roundabouts, pedestrian crossings, her frustration rising. Saw the white belly of a plane gliding away overhead, glanced at the time – 12:45 now, with all those hold-ups. She’d have to park, find the check-in or some kind of information place. Time trampling on.

  Long or short-stay parking? Went in the short – it was the nearest. Parking ticket in hand. Ran in through glass sliding doors. Departures. London. Madrid. Dublin. Manchester. New York, yes, New York. United Airlines, that must be it – check-in zone B. Another dash. There was no queue. The screen above the counter said they were closed. A woman in smart blue uniform was packing up her desk. Didn’t notice her at first.

  “Excuse me. Excuse me!”