Promoted: to Wife and Mother

by Jessica Hart

  ‘It was my mother this time, but another time it might be one of your kids. I don’t mean that they’ll necessarily have an accident like hers, but there’ll be something. They’ll need you for some reason and you’ll have to go, the way you had to go when Cassie rang that night at the river. We should stop trying to pretend that it can ever work between us.’

  ‘So what are you saying?’ Ed was grim-faced. ‘That we’re both condemned to be alone for the rest of our lives?’

  ‘It won’t be for ever,’ said Perdita, turning her face away so he wouldn’t see the despair in her eyes. ‘Your children will grow up and leave home.’ She took a breath. ‘My mother will die,’ she went on, accepting it for the first time, ‘but that isn’t going to happen yet. It’s just bad timing for us, Ed,’ she tried to explain. ‘Maybe we’ll both meet someone else when we’re not overwhelmed by our responsibilities, the way we are now. I hope so. It’s just…not now.’

  ‘What about last night?’ he asked more harshly than he had intended. ‘What about this morning? Are you just going to pretend that never happened?’

  There was a raw ache at the back of Perdita’s throat, pressing behind her eyes and across the bridge of her nose, too painful for the release of tears.

  ‘No,’ she said unsteadily. ‘No, I’ll always keep our time there as a wonderful memory. It was like a dream, being able to run away and forget about everyone else, but you can’t live like that the whole time. That’s not how real life works. In real life we just have to get on with what we have to do. You have to look after your family. I have to look after my mother. That’s the way it is.’

  She paused and, when she spoke again, her voice cracked. ‘I’m sorry, Ed.’

  ‘I’m sorry too.’

  Ed wanted to shout at her, to shake her. He wanted to refuse to let her do this, but there was no point in trying to talk to Perdita then. She was too consumed by worry and guilt to think clearly.

  And, after all, might she have a point? he wondered bitterly. He couldn’t pretend that his responsibilities didn’t exist any more than she could. Was she right in thinking that there would be too many obstacles to finding time to be together? Ever since Sue’s death, he had focused on the need to concentrate on his children, to try and be both parents to them, and that took time. What was different now?

  Perdita was the difference, thought Ed. He had let himself like her, and then he had let himself love her, and now she was slipping through his fingers and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. He couldn’t force her not to worry about her mother, and how could he promise that he would never worry about the kids? She wouldn’t believe him even if he did. Did that mean that he had to accept losing Perdita, then, and be content, like her, with a wonderful memory?

  Perdita stuck her fork in the ground and put a hand to her aching back as she straightened and paused for breath.

  Quarter to four. It was almost dark. There was little enough light on a December afternoon as it was, and even less on a day like today when the grey clouds pressed like a thick, impenetrable blanket over the city, seeping rain and depression. Perdita squinted upwards. It was impossible to believe on a day like this that above the clouds the sky would be clear and blue. It seemed a very long time since the sun had beaten its way through the cloud cover to shine on Ellsborough.

  Not since she had excitedly planned her weekend away with Ed. Maybe the weather hadn’t really been perfect then either, but she remembered feeling as if the sun was pouring down on her, pouring its golden brilliance through her, warming her and lightening her and filling her with its radiance.

  It felt like a lifetime ago. Perdita could feel her face starting to crumple at the memory and she scowled ferociously to stop the tears. Grabbing the fork once more, she pushed it deep into the earth with her foot and hoisted up a great clod, wishing that she could dig out the pain that easily.

  She had taken to spending as much time as she could at the garden project, which was beginning, very slowly, to take shape just as Grace had promised. Once all the rubbish had been cleared away, they had started to lay out planting areas, all of which had to be dug over until they were clear of the worst of the stones and weeds.

  Perdita found it easier to dig than to think, and she often came, like today, at a weekend. Strictly speaking, she only needed to spend a couple of hours a week there, but she liked it when there was no one else around and she could dig and dig and dig until she was so tired that it blanked everything else out. At the bleakest, blackest times-and there were lots of those-it was the only thing that helped her through the days.

  Her mother had recovered from her bruises eventually, but the shock of her fall seemed to have had a more lingering effect. She was much more confused now and the good days when she was alert and almost her old self were getting further and further apart.

  It was breaking Perdita’s heart to see her mother slithering and sliding unstoppably into dementia. That terrible day when she had arrived back with Ed, Helen James had clutched at her as if Perdita were her only anchor in a muddled, nightmarish world-as perhaps she was. Their roles were completely reversed now. It was Perdita’s turn to offer care and comfort and calm while her mother grew increasingly helpless.

  Having successfully introduced the idea of carers when Helen had been unwell with her infection, Perdita could have arranged for twenty-four hour cover, but she had put her flat on the market anyway. Partly, it was a penance for being away when her mother had needed her most, but it was also a practical move. Even part-time care at home was very expensive and there was no way Perdita could afford it long-term unless one of their properties was sold. She knew how much it had always meant to Helen to stay in her own home. If that was all she could do for her now, so be it, Perdita had decided. She couldn’t leave her mother now, in any case, so she might as well move back and be on hand for as long as she was needed.

  The only problem was being so close to Ed. It was bad enough at work, although Perdita was well aware that he was making things as easy for her as possible by keeping meetings to an absolute minimum. She suspected, too, that he had authorised all the support that she was getting from Human Resources, with as much time off as she needed to sort out her mother’s care.

  She rarely saw him now and, when she did, every glimpse was agony-and all she had to live for at the same time.

  Sometimes Perdita wondered whether she should think about changing jobs, but she simply couldn’t cope with upheaval at work on top of everything else. Not that she could imagine anyone offering her a job at the moment. She felt beaten and bedraggled and her confidence was as low as her spirits.

  In any case, a new job wouldn’t help. As long as her mother was alive, she would be living next door to Ed, with all the desperate longing and the painful memories that involved. She would just have to get used to the leap of her heart when she saw his car in the drive, Perdita told herself. She would have to accept that her eyes would jerk to the window whenever she heard the slam of his front door in case it was Ed, would have to fight the constant temptation of running out to him and throwing herself at him, just so that she could touch him, feel him, again.

  It was impossible not to be aware of the comings and goings next door. There were frequent arguments conducted at the top of Cassie’s voice, followed by much slamming and stomping, and Perdita wondered how Ed was coping with it all.

  Did he feel as lonely as she did? Did he ache with loss at the thought of what they had almost had, when it had seemed possible that they could have everything and be happy? Did he torture himself remembering every second of the night they had spent together, by imagining how things might have been if the phone had never rung that day, if her mother had never fallen…?

  But what was the point of wondering that? Perdita told herself miserably. If not then, it would have been another day, there would have been another incident. It would never have worked.

  Oh, God, now she was crying again! Furiously, Perdita blinke
d her tears away. There was no point in self-pity.

  She shoved the fork into the earth once more. Push, bend, lift. Push, bend, lift. Don’t think about anything else. Just dig.

  She had another half hour before she needed to be home to relieve the afternoon carer, and she could get this whole bed done if she stopped being pathetic and went for it. She might as well have something to show for her miserable afternoon in the rain.

  Perdita was so intent on digging that she didn’t notice the figure approaching through the gloom until a pair of muddy boots and a fork appeared beneath her gaze and she jerked her head up, startled, to find Ed standing right before her.

  Ed. She froze, her heart ballooning with a curious mixture of joy and dismay. She had longed and dreaded being this close to him again and, now that the moment was here, all she could do was stare hungrily at him and feel truly alive for the first time in three weeks.

  He was wearing a faded old jacket. Drizzle clung to his hair and eyelashes and he looked tired and strained. He looked wonderful. He was here.

  Very slowly, Perdita straightened, clutching on to her fork as if it were her last hope of sanity. Every nerve in her body was urging her to smile and smile and launch herself into his arms, while every cell in her brain shrieked caution. Don’t let yourself hope it will be all right. Don’t put yourself through it all again.

  ‘Ed…’ she said at last on a long, wavering breath. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Looking for you,’ he said, sounding so normal, so much himself, that Perdita’s heart cracked with longing. ‘Millie told me you would be here.’ He lifted the fork with an ironic smile. ‘She even gave me this and told me to make myself useful.’

  He plunged the fork into the ground and started to dig next to Perdita. ‘What’s going to be planted here?’

  ‘Alliums and irises and tulips, Grace says.’ Perdita’s voice sounded as if it was coming from someone else entirely. ‘It’s hard to believe at the moment, but the way she describes it, it should be beautiful. We’ve got a lot of hard work to do before then, though.’

  ‘Anything worth having is worth working for,’ said Ed. He glanced up at her as he dug. ‘Even if it’s hard going to begin with, with a little effort, a little nourishing, you get something beautiful in the end. Don’t you agree?’

  ‘Are we still talking about gardening?’ asked Perdita after a tiny pause, and he laughed.

  ‘No, I thought you would like my little metaphor, though. You know, a relationship is like a garden-you have to plant it, fertilise it, prune it, and all that other stuff if you want it to flourish.’

  ‘I think that metaphor’s been used before,’ she said a little tartly.

  Ed smiled one of his rare, startling smiles and then his face grew serious. ‘I’ve missed you, Perdita,’ he said in a quiet voice.

  Perdita didn’t say anything. She was too afraid that she would start to cry and tell him how desperately, desperately she had missed him too. She started digging again instead and concentrated on swallowing the great stone in her throat.

  Side by side, they dug in silence. ‘How have you been?’ Ed asked at last.

  ‘All right,’ she lied. ‘And you?’

  He shook his head. ‘I haven’t been all right,’ he said. ‘I’ve been in a bad way.’

  The desolation in his voice made Perdita falter in her digging. ‘I’m sorry, Ed,’ she whispered.

  ‘I don’t want you to be sorry,’ said Ed. ‘I want you to change your mind.’

  ‘I…can’t,’ she said in anguish.

  ‘Why not?’ Thrusting his fork into the earth in his frustration, Ed searched for the right words. ‘I’ve tried to accept your decision, Perdita,’ he said at last. ‘I thought about what you said. I even wondered if you were right. But I can’t believe that you are,’ he told her. ‘You said we’d have to accept being alone while we had responsibilities, but I’ve realised that I don’t want to be alone.’

  He stopped and shook his head. ‘No, that’s wrong. What I mean is, I don’t want to be without you. I don’t want someone who doesn’t have a parent or a kid or a dog or a demanding job to distract her, even if such a person exists. I only want you,’ he finished simply.

  ‘Ed…’ Perdita began helplessly, not even sure how she would go on, but he overrode her anyway.

  ‘I’ve been married, Perdita. I know how good it can be when there’s someone there beside you, someone who’ll stick with you, cry with you, laugh with you, celebrate with you, mourn with you…love with you.’

  Ed paused. ‘I loved Sue,’ he said quietly. ‘Nothing is going to change that, but I love you too, and I need you and I want you beside me to do all that crying and laughing and loving and everything else again. I want us to do them together.’

  ‘You’ve still got the kids,’ Perdita reminded him. She was trembling, holding on to her fork with a kind of desperation, trying to hold on to all the reasons why she knew it could never work between them…What were they again?

  ‘Yes, I’ve still got the kids,’ Ed agreed, ‘but they don’t change the way I feel about you.’

  Reaching for Perdita’s fork, he shoved it into the ground next to his own and very deliberately drew off her bulky gardening gloves so that he could take hold of her hands.

  ‘I know Nick hurt you, Perdita, but his isn’t the only way of loving.’ His fingers were very warm and indescribably comforting as they curled around hers. ‘It seems to me that you can’t put a ranking on love. I can’t say that I love Cassie more than Lauren, or Lauren more than Tom, or you more or less than Sue. You’re all the same. You’re all in my heart.’

  His hands tightened around hers. ‘There’s room for all of you. The question is, have you got room in your heart for all of us?’

  Perdita’s dark eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. ‘You know there is,’ she said brokenly. ‘I do love you, Ed. I love you more than I could have thought possible and I’ve missed you every second since we came back from Burnham, but you deserve so much more than I can give you at the moment.’

  ‘More than what?’ he asked gently.

  ‘More than a few moments between working and caring for my mother.’ Perdita swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘There’s nothing else in my life at the moment. I can’t just abandon Mum, or put her in a home, but how can I give you what you need when I’m looking after her?’

  Ed looked down into her face. Raindrops spangled her dark hair and her eyes were huge and shining in the gathering dusk.

  ‘You can give me what I need just by being there,’ he told her slowly. ‘Yes, you may have to drop everything sometimes if your mother needs you. Yes, we may have to cut short a dinner or cancel a date because of one of the kids, but it won’t always happen that way. And when I come back from ferrying Cassie to a party, you’ll be there for me, just like I’ll be there for you when you’ve had a hard day coping with your mother.’

  He drew her closer. ‘You’re too used to assuming that you have to do everything on your own, Perdita. You don’t. I’ll help you and you can help me, because God knows I’m going to need help with Cassie and Lauren over the next few years!’

  Perdita’s heart was pounding with hope and she smiled waveringly. ‘I’ve heard some of the rows.’

  ‘Then you’ll know that it’s not going to be easy,’ said Ed with a smile before his expression grew serious again. ‘Do you remember the bar at Burnham?’

  ‘When I said everything was perfect?’

  He nodded. ‘It won’t be perfect, Perdita. It will be hard. There aren’t going to be any magic solutions, you were right about that. Your mother isn’t going to get better. The kids aren’t going to suddenly become polite and helpful and bored with partying. They aren’t going to switch off the television voluntarily and do their homework without nagging…and they aren’t going to forgive me if I don’t find a way of persuading you to marry us.’

  Perdita was betrayed into a laugh. ‘Us? Would I be marrying all of you?’<
br />
  ‘I’m afraid so.’ A smile that started at the back of Ed’s eyes was spreading over his face. ‘You’d be marrying the whole package: me, Tom, Cassie and Lauren, just as I’d be marrying you and your mother.’

  Releasing her hands at last, he cupped her face between his palms. ‘We can find a way of managing things together, Perdita. Marry me, and come and live with us. Sell your flat and pay for twenty four hour care for your mother. It’s what she needs now, and it doesn’t mean that you can’t be there for her. She can stay in her house and you can see her every day. And if you can’t for any reason, then you and she will have a whole family who can help. If you’re away working, I’ll go and see her, and if we’re both away, the kids will check that she’s OK. That’s what families are for. We can do anything as long as we’re together.’

  He made it seem so easy. He sounded so certain, and she felt so safe between his hands. ‘Do you really think it could work?’ Perdita asked, wanting-longing-to believe him, but not daring to.

  ‘We won’t know unless we try,’ said Ed.

  ‘And how do we do that?’

  ‘We stick together. We love each other. We support each other the best way we can.’ His hands slid over her wet shoulders and down her arms to pull her closer. ‘We don’t have expectations that it will be perfect. We just take each day as it comes and be glad that we have each other.’

  He smiled down at her, but she could see the anxiety in his eyes, as if he still wasn’t sure of her. ‘What do you think?

  Heedless of the drizzle, Perdita gazed back at him as the certainty and the happiness began to trickle back into her sore heart. ‘I think…’ she began in a voice that wobbled ridiculously with emotion. ‘I think it would be wonderful if we could do that.’

  ‘So will you try with me?’

  ‘Yes.’ She smiled at him through her tears as she reached for him. ‘Oh, yes, I will!’

  Ed’s arms came round her then and he held her hard against him. ‘And you’ll marry me?’ he asked urgently, tipping her face up to his.