by S J Crabb
It's all coming back to bite me now with a vengeance, though, and the tears burn behind my eyes at how quickly my cosy bubble has burst.
Harry, doesn't appear to sense anything different and is more interested in gathering his Transformers together to take to school.
Soon we are somehow ready and I start the short walk to the village school.
Harry holds my hand and chatters incessantly on the way, while Mr Tumnus tries to stop at every wall and corner to sniff the evidence of his friends that have already made the journey. Normally Harry and I would be singing a little song as we go - usually the theme tune to Postman Pat, which I am strangely addicted to.
Today though I can't focus on anything else but the sound of my world coming crashing down around me.
We join the line of other parents heading towards the school gates, and I feel as if I am having an out-of-body experience because everything looks the same as usual, but it is now very different. It's as though I'm seeing everything through someone else's eyes and nothing appears real anymore.
Harry sees his friend Edward and drops my hand and races towards him. As I draw near I take in the welcoming smile of his mother, my best friend Simone.
Seeing her friendly face causes mine to fall and at once I can see the concern in her eyes. She leans forward and whispers, ‘What's the matter Sophie has someone died or something you look...well shell-shocked if I'm honest.’
I just stare at her in disbelief and then somehow manage to squeak, ‘Lysander wants a divorce.’
I see the shock register on her face and she grabs hold of my arm.
‘Right this is what you must do. Act normal and pretend you're someone else for the next ten minutes, I don't know Anthea Turner, or someone perfect like that. Do what you have to do, and then once the prison gates close, you and I are going to yours to work out the next step. Ok?’
I nod numbly and summon my inner Anthea to the fore, and paste a happy sugary smile on my face as I approach the battleground, otherwise known as the playground.
Simone walks next to me as if she is my minder, and with a similar expression on her face, we contemplate the dreaded Playground Mums.
All around us is perfect housewife perfection. Yummy mummy land with more cutting out stakes than an origami factory. These women take no prisoners. They smell out your fear and your insecurities and they gorge on scandal and gossip. If these women knew of my new situation, they would pounce on me and feed off of it, stripping me to the bone until there is nothing left of me. Simone is right; I need to keep up the appearance of Stepford perfection for as long as possible.
The noise of the children playing is almost deafening and the chatter of the mums adds to the chaos. I look around me at the sea of Cath Kidston and Boden-clad warriors, who use their designer prams as battering rams, to gain the coveted spot by the office doors- because that is where he lives.
Almost on cue, the door opens and there is an audible gasp of excitement as all eyes swivel towards the God that is Mr Rainford the year 2 teacher.
Simone tenses up beside me, and if we were in a film, this is the part that would appear in slow motion, cueing the latest love song as he emerges from his lair.
Mr Rainford is not your typical teacher. He looks as if he has stepped out of an advert for men's underpants. He has a chiselled jaw that shows a hint of stubble. His eyes are brown and sexy and when he looks at you, you feel as if you are the only person in the room. His clothes are immaculate and he moves with swagger to his step.
There is not a mother here, including me, who probably hasn't fantasised about him at some point. The trouble is I think he's gay.
He looks around him with amusement; and then rings the bell that he holds aloft as if it is an Olympic torch. There is a stampede of children as they fall into their lines. The mothers pull themselves up straight, and fluff out their hair, and thrusting their chests forward, they gaze at him with wanton desire.
He leads his flock inside like the pied piper, and only when the door slams behind him do the hormonal horde disperse.
Simone nudges me and quips, ‘...and breathe.’
I look at her and she winks and grins.
‘Do you know that keeps me going all day until the afternoon repeat? Lordy lord, we must have done something right to deserve such eye candy twice a day.’
I smile but don't feel much like laughing and I see the sympathy in her eyes.
‘Come on doll face, let's get you home, we need to sort this mess out.’
I nod miserably and gather up my wayward puppy as we go from his tether on the railings, as we set off for home.
Chapter Three
I sit down and watch Simone bustling around my kitchen dragging out some coffee mugs and setting the percolator.
She is like a well-oiled machine in a crisis as I should know, since there is normally one going on in my life most days. Not like this, though, this is something else entirely.
Pushing a steaming mug of coffee towards me she grabs the squirty cream and finishes it off with a flourish.
‘Lots of cream today I think, just what the doctor ordered.’
I look at her gratefully and then almost spit it out as I take a sip and burn my tongue in the process. I can feel the cream all around my face and know that my face must be redder than an overripe tomato.
Simone looks at me guiltily.
‘Oops sorry Sophie, maybe you should have let it cool down a bit first.’
She grabs me a glass of water and I use it to put out the fire in my mouth.
Simone looks at me with a grim expression.
‘Now tell me everything. We need to work out how to play this.’
I shrug. ‘There's not much to tell. He woke me up this morning and told me that he has met someone else and wants a divorce. Just that, no warning, no nothing. It came completely out of the blue and I never saw it coming.’
Simone's eyes narrow. ‘Another woman you say. Do we know who she is?’
I shake my head. ‘No -WE- do not. The only thing I can think of is that she works with him, I mean he doesn't go anywhere but work, oh and the golf course.’
Simone looks thoughtful.
‘Typical mid-life crisis if you ask me. Debbie Dooley had the same thing. As soon as her husband turned forty, he grew his hair long and took up the guitar. She had to stop him from ditching his job in favour of life on the road.’
I nod remembering the story. Gosh, the playground mafia dined out on that one for a whole half a term and he didn't leave Debbie. I am going to be news for a whole term if not the rest of the school year.
We sit for a moment in silence contemplating what has happened. Mr Tumnus starts chasing a yoghurt pot around the room which brings us both back from our thoughts. Simone suddenly looks at me with a very determined expression.
‘I think I saw a film like this once. There was this other woman, and the wife stalked her. She found out that her husband was not only seeing her but someone else as well. The three of them got together and paid him back. That is what we must do, seek out this trollop and spy on her until we have something against her or him, and then sister we are bringing them down.’
Despite myself, I grin.
‘This isn't a film Simone. I'm sure it's just as he said, he has met someone else and he doesn't want me anymore.’
As I say the words, a huge sob finds its way out of me and I look at my friend in shock. I have actually forgotten to cry about this. For some reason, the emotional part hasn't reached me yet, perhaps it will this afternoon and I will lie on the settee crying into a tub of ice cream like they do on the television. Simone reaches out and grasps my hand.
‘Ok what about this then? You find a super-hot hunk of a guy that is the leader of the mafia. You agree to be his sex prisoner for six months - longer if you prefer, in return for him taking a contract out on Lysander. It's a win-win situation.’
I laugh almost hysterically.
‘You've been reading too many
New Adult novels again. As if those guys exist in the real world.’
Simone grins. ‘They do in my head darling, and they come to life in my dreams.’
I brave a sip of the coffee and look at her sadly.
‘How did it come to this? Poor Harry, he will have to face life between two homes and have another woman wanting him to call her mummy. How can I bear it? I will have to share him, and I will become one of those women that must put on a brave face when I see them, and not talk about them badly in front of him, even though I will want to at every given opportunity. I don't want to share my son, and I don't want to share my husband. Why should I?’
Before she can answer the phone rings. We freeze and stare at each other and I whisper, ‘What if that's him, what do I say?’
Simone looks at me angrily.
‘Listen to what he has to say and then answer just yes or no. Don't show any emotion because then he has won.’
I nod and grab the phone and try to say in a strong voice, ‘Hello.’
My heart lurches as I hear my husband's voice coming through quiet and hesitant.
‘Are you ok Sophie? I gave you quite a shock earlier, have you had time to think about it?’
Simone looks at me her eyes wide and I just say loudly,
‘Yes.’
There is a short silence and then he says,
‘Good, then it will be best for all involved if we deal with this quickly and amicably. I will come home later and get some of my things. If you have any questions we can discuss them, then but it may be best to keep emotion out of it, for the time being, I mean we don't want to unsettle Harry, do we?’
I can feel the rage boiling within me as he speaks. I picture him in front of me, and the scene from Kill Bill when she gouges his heart out comes to mind. As the red mist descends all I can do is say,
‘No.’
I hear his sigh of relief and he says in a perkier voice.
‘Good, I will see you at 7 pm. No need to make me any dinner I will have eaten already. Until later then.’
All I can say is, ‘Yes.’
He hangs up leaving me standing here holding the phone in shock. Simone gently takes the phone from my hand and leads me to the settee.
‘There now, that's the first hurdle over with. What did he say?’ I tell her and watch as her eyes widen in shock and disbelief. ‘Ok change of plan. He is going down and you are not going to make this easy on him. Where are your bin bags?’
I look at her in confusion and she grins wickedly.
‘Come on we're going to pack for him and when he comes, he will find his bags out by the bins where he belongs. You will tell him firmly that he is to discuss everything with you via email from now on, and the only person he can speak to is Harry. If he wants out, then he's out- end of. You are not going to be a pushover, and after we have packed his miserable life up into those bags, then we are getting you the sharpest divorce lawyer that we can find. You know, I think I know just the one.’
She laughs at my dazed expression.
‘You know that footballer's wife that lives in Oxshott? Well, she got the lot due to his playing more than a game of football. She's not cheap, but the rewards more than compensate for it.’
I look at her and shake my head.
‘Does she do legal aid because the only money I have is in our joint account?’
Simone screws up her face in thought.
‘Probably not but leave it with me. My sister went to school with her; maybe she will do it as a favour to her.’
I don't have time to argue before I find myself stuffing Lysander's clothes and worldly goods into a roll of bin bags.
It doesn't take us long and Simone turns to me her eyes shining.
‘There let's see how he likes a surprise for once. Now I will have Harry over for a sleep-over tonight to keep him out of the way. You can confront lover boy and pretend you're Uma Thurman. Make yourself look super-hot and in charge so that he knows that you're not going to be messed around. Don't let him in, and certainly don't let him take control. You must gain the upper hand in this and be strong. He will regret the day that he let his dick off the leash.’
Chapter Four
So here I am waiting for my errant husband with my insides tied up in knots. True to her word Simone has taken charge of Harry for the night, and I have primped and preened myself into the hottest version of myself that I can get. Nervously I fiddle with my hands as I wait for the dreaded hour.
Mr Tumnus starts growling as we hear the car pulling up in the drive. Steeling myself for the impending confrontation, I down the glass of red wine in front of me for Dutch courage.
Before he can even get the key in the lock, I fling it open and look at him with a hard expression.
He looks at me in shock which then softens as he sees me standing there.
‘Sophie darling, how are you feeling?’
He makes to push past me but I stand my ground.
‘Not tonight Lysander, you will find your bags are already packed and waiting for you by the bins. Sorry, I couldn't get in the loft to get the suitcases, but I couldn’t be bothered. Now Harry is at a friend's house, and I am on my way out. Anything you have to say please put in an e-mail in future. You can call Harry, but any further dealings with me must be conducted through my solicitor, who will be in touch.’
As I go to close the door, he puts his foot in the way blocking it and looks at me in complete and utter shock.
‘Sophie this isn't like you. We need to discuss this.’
I raise my eyes. ‘There's nothing to discuss. You want to leave so leave. I am not interested in the details and am only concerned with my son. Like I said the best way we can sort this out is amicably via e-mail as far as I'm concerned. You've made your decision so there's not much point in dragging it out.’
I watch as his eyes narrow and that vein in his neck starts twitching which it does when he gets angry.
He splutters, ‘You bitch. What gives you the right to throw me out like a bag of rubbish? It's no wonder I fell in love with someone else, living with a cold bitch like you. You don't get to tell me what's happening I tell you. I pay the bills in this house, and you had better treat me with the respect I deserve if you want to come out of this with anything. I will go because I can't bear to look at you a moment longer. If it's a fight you want, then bring it on.’
He removes his foot and I slam the door, my heart thumping in my chest. Quickly I lock the door and then back away from it and sit down on the stairs.
In my mind, all I can see is his furious face. He didn't like the fact that I was taking control in the slightest, and even though he is the one in the wrong, I can see that I have a battle on my hands.
I can't stop shaking, and I can feel the tears welling up inside. I push them down. I will be strong. He is the one who has brought all of this about not me, and if he doesn't like it, then he only has himself to blame.
As if on auto pilot I run a bath. I go through the motions of getting ready for bed and am soon wrapped up in my pyjamas, with Mr Tumnus on my knee in front of the television. I am quite annoyed that I didn't have the required tub of ice cream in stock. I actually don't know what to do next and am starting to regret listening to Simone already.
She has always been the same. She lives out her life as if it was one of the stories in the trashy novels she reads. But this isn't fiction it's fact, and I am going to have to make the best of it for both mine and Harry's sake. One thing I am dreading the most, though, is telling him that his daddy will be living somewhere else in future.
I must have fallen asleep where I sat because I wake up the next morning feeling extremely disorientated. There is a wet patch on my knee where Mr Tumnus must have dribbled in the night. I wake up and see his little furry face looking at me with total adoration, and I pull him close to me and kiss him, the tears finally spilling down my cheeks, as I contemplate my new life. He wags his tail and then jumps off barking as the doorbell rings.
<
br /> As I look over at the clock, I can see that it is past 9 am already. Racing over I fling the door open, and Simone breezes in armed with several shopping bags.
‘Morning Sophie, at least it looks as if you managed to get some sleep. Harry and Edward are safely at school, and today my darling is the first day of the rest of your life.’
I look at her in shock and she smiles at me.
‘I've got some shopping in. Loads of banned sugar foods and alcohol. Today is all about over-indulgence, and tomorrow is about getting what you deserve. Now run up and get ready, while I make us a fry up, and then we will talk about our options.’
In a daze, I leave her to it. Typical Simone. She always takes charge, and it is what I love about her the most. No problem is ever too great for her, and I am sure that she will get me through this.
By the time I get downstairs she is hoovering and I see a lovely bunch of lilies dominating the table.
Looking up she grins.
‘Right then, breakfast is ready. Sit down and I'll tell you where we're at.’
Over the bacon and eggs, Simone tells me what she spent the evening doing. Apparently, she called her sister who has promised to speak to her friend. She has also gone online and printed out sheets and sheets of papers for me on divorce and the do's and don'ts of it all. My homework is to read through them all before the meeting with the solicitor.
The rest of the morning is spent watching DVDs about cheating men to raise my spirits. Where would we be without our friends?
Chapter Five
It's soon time to pick up the children and Simone looks at me and smiles in encouragement. ‘Don't worry Soph, nobody knows yet so let's just act as if it's business as usual.’
I look at her nervously. ‘It won't be long, though. You know what it's like around here, the mafia have a way of sniffing out gossip and other people's misery and when that happens my life will never be the same again.’
Simone looks at me with sympathy. She knows that it will all burst around me like an atom bomb when word gets out, and even she won't be able to protect me from the stares and whispers. I am about to be the subject of discussion around every coffee morning table and social media group chat for some time to come.
