Everyone at work was in that weird post-Christmas mood, a curious mixture of bonhomie left over from the pre holiday celebrations and all the gift exchanging, and deflation that here we all were back at work again. But I couldn’t enter into the spirit of the thing, and gave everyone half-hearted noncommittal answers when they asked how my Christmas had been.
I struggled through the morning somehow, but all I could think about was going home and sorting things out with Rob. I tried phoning him but his mobile was still switched off. I left voice mails asking him to phone me back but he didn’t. I phoned Marsha but before I could say barely a word she said Mac was on the verge of leaving so she couldn’t talk, but she said she’d ring me back later when he’d gone.
By two o’clock I couldn’t stand anymore and invented a doctor’s appointment that I said I’d forgotten all about until now, and went home.
As I pulled up outside the house I noticed straight away that Rob’s car was missing, so I knew even before I got inside that he wasn’t going to be there. All the same I knocked at Marsha’s door on my way in, at least she’d be able to tell me what he’d been saying, and what sort of mood I could expect him to be in when he got back from wherever he was.
‘Hello Judy.’ She said solicitously, ushering me in.
‘Where’s he gone?’ I said without preamble.
‘He’s gone.’ Was all Marsha said.
‘Yes but where?’
‘He’s gone with Mac.’
‘But I thought Mac was going back up to Edinburgh.’
‘Yes he has, and Rob’s gone with him.’ Marsha said patiently.
‘To see him off at the airport you mean?’
‘No I mean Rob’s gone to Edinburgh with Mac.’
This was a severe blow. I knew he was hurt and angry, even in his drunken state last night it didn’t take a genius to work that out, but Edinburgh? I slumped down on Marsha’s settee, in denial and totally lost for words. He couldn’t have gone away, he just couldn’t have, I needed to talk to him, to explain. How could he be gone, just like that?
Harry and Flora were arguing over a jigsaw that had been a Christmas present, and Marsha asked them if they’d like to watch a DVD instead, so then they argued over which DVD they wanted to watch, but it all went over my head, I was barely conscious that they were even there in the same room never mind arguing noisily.
‘Come out to the kitchen and I’ll put the kettle on.’ Marsha said after she’d chosen the DVD for them since they couldn’t agree, and settled them both in front of the telly.
I dragged myself to the kitchen numb with shock. ‘When?’ I said.
‘Lunch time.’
‘Couldn’t you have stopped him?’ I asked despondently.
‘I tried.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He said things hadn’t worked out and he needed to get away. Did you have an argument or something?’
‘Not exactly.’
Marsha made the tea, and I explained about my Mum and how I’d lied to her, and how Rob had heard half a conversation and now thought I’d only wanted him so I could get married and have a father for Ella, and how he couldn’t have got it more wrong. And then I cried.
Marsha had produced a box of tissues, refilled my tea mug, and let me talk and sob my way through the whole box of tissues and two mugs of tea before she said a word.
‘So what will you do now?’
‘I don’t know.’ I wailed. ‘Try and get him on the phone . . wait till he gets back I suppose . . . how long did he say he would be gone?’
‘He didn’t.’
And that started me sobbing all over again. Marsha put her arm round me and said she’d talk to Mac when he phoned later.
‘Yes. Explain it to Mac and he can tell Rob. Tell him to tell Rob he’s got it all wrong and to please, please phone me.’
‘I’ll try.’ Marsha said.
‘What time will he phone?’
‘When he’s checked in to the hotel he’s staying at, so late tonight I expect.’
‘And Rob will be at the same hotel will he?’
‘Well I gather that’s the plan, but it depends if they’ve got a room. He might double with Mac I suppose, or he might find a different hotel. I really don’t know.’
‘But they’ll see each other won’t they, even if Rob’s in a different hotel they’ll still see each other?’
Harry and Flora barged noisily into the kitchen demanding juice, which meant the DVD had finished. What had felt like ten minutes, fifteen at the most, was actually an hour and a half, and the time had sped by as if on fast-forward while I’d poured my heart out to Marsha and she’d tried to console me.
I left Marsha to minister to her ‘little angels’ and dragged myself upstairs. Rob’s things were scattered around the flat as if he was still there. His sweatshirt was lying over the back of the settee and I picked it up holding it close to my face just breathing in his smell, and crying all over again.
Oh Rob, please just phone me so I can talk to you, I prayed.
37
12th January – Week 32 + 4 Days
The weather had turned decidedly awful, it had snowed a week ago and the temperature was still below freezing so the snow hadn’t melted, in fact it was now compacted ice everywhere except the main roads that were a sludgy brown mess that re-froze every night. Rob hadn’t phoned or come back. Marsha had explained everything to Mac when he’d phoned and evidently Mac had relayed everything on to Rob including my message to please phone me, but he hadn’t, and he wasn’t staying with Mac anymore either after that first night when they’d arrived in Edinburgh. Apparently Rob had tracked down a friend from college the next morning, who lived somewhere in the area, and now Rob was staying with him.
I still kept trying to phone Rob but his phone was permanently switched off. I left message after message, each one more desperate than the last, but I had no idea if he’d even listened to his messages.
I was sunk, up the creak without a paddle. All I could do now was wait until he got back. He’d have to come back some time right? I mean all his stuff was still at Marsha’s. But of course even if he did come back it didn’t mean he’d talk to me, or that I’d even manage to see him, he could just get his stuff and go again while I was still at work. Or even worse he could send for his stuff and not come back at all.
Meantime I went through the motions of going to work every day, I cried a lot at everything and nothing, and everyone said it was my pregnant state and that my hormones had gone into overdrive, and I let them think it. But it wasn’t that, well there might have been some truth in it I guess, but I knew what it really was, it was losing my Rob, only he wasn’t my Rob anymore was he?
The only people who knew the truth were Marsha and Mac, and Shelley who I’d sobbed out every last detail to, and no doubt she’d retold it to Nick. My Mum knew because I’d wasted no time in blaming her for the whole thing, so now she’d got the hump with me because I’d blamed her and she said that actually it was all my fault for lying to her in the first place, which technically I suppose it was. And the only other person who knew all about it was Ella, because while stroking my bump I’d sobbed out everything to her as well, a few times in fact.
My life fell into a new pattern. I’d wake up in the morning, have a quick shower, slice of toast, cup of tea, and leave a message for Rob. Skate to the car, scrape the windscreen, go to work and try and do some work without thinking about Rob, and at lunchtime leave another message for him. Come home and cook myself some dinner, half heartedly push the food round my plate, and leave a message for Rob. Sightlessly stare at the telly for a couple of hours as I mindlessly flicked through channels looking for something to take my mind off it all, and leave a message for Rob. Go to bed wearing Rob’s unwashed and still slightly smelling of him sweatshirt and lay awake till about three o’clock, then fall into a restless nightmare ridden sleep before the whole thing would start all over again.
On the weekend it was
much the same but without the going to work bit, instead of work I’d gone to Sainsbury’s to buy more of the food that I wasn’t eating, then I’d sat with Marsha at hers and cried all over again, then back upstairs at mine I’d phoned Shelley and cried all over again, then phoned my Mum and ranted all over again and then cried after I’d put the phone down, all interspersed with leaving more messages for Rob for him to ignore. And on Sunday it was almost a repeat performance of Saturday but without the trip to Sainsbury’s.
I hadn’t seen Shirley at work, she was probably the only other person I might have told. Her new self employed status had kicked in and her daughter Julie was there every morning, bustling about doing everything Shirley used to do but at twice the speed. Well every morning except one particularly bad morning weather-wise when it had snowed again on top of the six frozen inches we already had. I asked after Shirley of course and Julie said she was fine, and that I should go and see her. I needed to anyway, with me keeping the books for her new business, so I said I’d phone her and sort something out. But so far I hadn’t got round to it, being far too busy as I was with feeling depressed and sorry for myself.
My monthly prenatal check-ups were now fortnightly and I’d been on Tuesday to see nurse Mary Poppins who told me I’d put on too much weight and that my blood pressure was a bit high, but other than that everything seemed normal. But her usual superior bossy demeanour hadn’t fazed me this time, I had other bigger problems, and what the hell did she know about normal anyway in her superior little perfect world.
When I wasn’t pouring out my troubles to Shelley, which wasn’t much of the time, she’d managed to fit in a bit of news of her own that she’d walked out of her job after a blazing row with the hated Katherine, and was now looking for a new job. I didn’t know whether to congratulate her on finally getting out from under the tyrannical reign of Katherine, or to commiserate with her on having to find a new job, but to be honest, ultimately, I have to say I selfishly didn’t really give it too much thought either way, I was too bogged down with my own problems.
Then this morning I got a text message from James asking me if I’d had a good Christmas, and wishing me a happy new year. I hadn’t texted him back.
Did I want to see James? Yes and no. Yes because he made me laugh and was quite good company, but at the same time no because if I didn’t fancy him before I certainly wasn’t going to fancy him now after Rob, I probably wasn’t going to fancy anyone ever again after Rob. Seems funny to think that all those months ago I was so upset by the idea that with a baby in tow I probably wouldn’t have the opportunity to be having much sex, and now if I couldn’t have my Rob I didn’t want to have sex with anyone else anyway. I really had to try and stop thinking of him as my Rob when he clearly wasn’t, and didn’t want to be.
Around half two I got another message from James asking if everything was alright. That’d be a no then, everything was most definitely about as not alright as you could get. But I still didn’t text him back.
When I got home he was sitting in his car waiting for me. He waved and I skated and slipped over the ice as carefully as I could to his car, resolving not to let him in to the flat. I mean much as I could have done with a bit of company, he wasn’t the company I craved. And of course there was the whole dilemma of not leading him on and if, or rather when, James found out I wasn’t with Rob anymore wouldn’t he start thinking he was in with a chance again?
‘Did you get my text messages?’ he asked winding down his window.
‘Yes. Sorry I didn’t get back to you, I was a bit preoccupied.’ I answered noncommittally.
‘Bad day at work? You look exhausted.’
‘Yes pretty bad, its year-end.’
‘Year end?’
‘Yeah, you know, the end of the financial year. Busiest time of the year if you work in accounts.’
‘Oh right. I didn’t knock, after the last time . . . figured you’d be at work and I’d just wait till you got home.’
‘Yes probably best. How’s things with you? Did you have a good Christmas?’ This polite conversation as if everything was normal, was just about killing me. What I wanted more than anything in the world right now was for James to go home and leave me to wallow in my depression alone.
‘It was good yes. How about you?’ James said chattily.
‘Yes Christmas was good.’ It was just New Year that was a disaster I thought.
‘You’re still with . . him then are you?’
‘Mm hm.’ I answered without really answering.
‘Right . . and how’s it going, still all . . ?’
‘Mm.’
‘Do I sense trouble in paradise?’
‘Actually Rob’s away at the moment.’ I said congratulating myself on telling the truth without in fact giving anything away.
‘Away? Do you mean working away or gone away?’
Okay maybe I’d congratulated myself a bit too quickly. ‘He’s . . I mean . . oh alright, we had a bit of a . . misunderstanding I suppose you’d call it . . and he’s gone away for a few days, that’s all.’
‘A misunderstanding. So when’s he coming back?’
‘Soon.’ I lied, wishing with all my heart that I wasn’t lying.
‘How soon?’
‘Um . . couple of . . ‘ I started to say as a big fat tear rolled down my cheek.
‘Days? Weeks?’ James said getting out of his car and putting his arm round me.
I leaned into him, I couldn’t help it. I started crying properly, again. You’d have thought by now and the amount of crying I’d done lately that it’d be physically impossible to cry anymore, but I did.
‘Come on let’s go inside and I’ll make you a cup of tea.’ James said taking my bag from me and leading me over the un-gritted ice rink that had formed in the last few days around the front door.
‘Okay’ I sobbed disconsolately, letting him lead me.
When we got upstairs James sat me down at the table in the living room then went to make tea for us both, and I cried a bit more while I waited for him to come back.
‘So?’ He said putting a mug of tea down in front of me a few minutes later.
‘So, he’s gone.’ I said simply.
‘Well good riddance I say.’
‘No not good riddance, I love him James, and he loves me.’
‘Then why’d he leave?’
‘He left because of a stupid lie I told my mother.’
‘That doesn’t make any sense but okay.’
‘I told Mum he was the father, and she thought I should get married to him. I was in the middle of explaining the truth to her, that he isn’t, and how I didn’t want to get married, and Rob overheard part of the conversation and thought . .’
‘And thought you were trying to trap him into marrying you and just looking for a father for the baby.’
‘Yes.’
‘Well that’s stupid, I could have told him you weren’t just looking for a dad. I’d have snapped you up if that were the case if you’d given me half a chance, but you dumped me for him, didn’t he figure that out? What a moron.’
‘James about that . .’
‘It’s okay I get it. You said all along that you didn’t think you and me would ever be . . and I was pretty pissed at first, sorry but I was. But I get it, you just don’t feel that way about me. I still think given time you could . .’
I didn’t bother answering or trying to put him right, I just looked at him hard, and he dried up. He reached over to hold my hand, and told me to drink my tea.
I didn’t drink my tea, instead I said ‘I’m really sorry James, you’re a nice bloke but I just don’t feel that way about you.’
‘Yeah I know.’
‘Sorry.’ I said again.
‘It’s okay you can’t help the way you feel.’
We drank our tea in awkward silence, until James said ‘you’ve decorated since the last time I was here.’
‘Yes Rob did it.’ I said, and of course that made me
start crying again.
James ignored the tears this time, probably figuring the less said the better and that I would stop of my own accord sooner or later. ‘Did you do everywhere or just this room?’
‘Just this room.’ I sniffed.
‘Well it looks a lot better than all that orange colour you had when you moved in.’
‘Yeah it does. Rob was going to . .’ And I was off crying again at the thought that actually Rob wasn’t going to be doing any decorating now, or anytime in the future as far as I could see.
James sighed at my fresh outburst. ‘Look maybe he’ll think better of it and come back.’
‘Maybe.’ I said morosely but without any real hope.
‘When did he go, I mean how long . . ?’
‘He went the day after new year’s.’
‘And I suppose you’ve been sitting here every night all on your own, crying and just waiting for him to come back, right?’
‘Pretty much, yes.’
‘Okay how about I take you out for a meal?’
‘James . . I . . it’s very nice of you but . .’
‘No, nothing like that. I know you love Rob and you don’t fancy me, I get it. But you have to eat, and it’d be better than you sitting here all on your own just thinking about it all, wouldn’t it?’
‘You’re sure you . . ?’
‘Yes I’m sure. Come on dry your eyes. What do you fancy, pizza, Indian, burger and chips?’
38
27th January – Week 34 + 5 day
The temperature had finally risen to about two degrees and it felt almost tropical after the last couple of sub-zero weeks, and it meant that the snow was finally melting. It was my last day at work. I’d kept going somehow, between feeling totally bereft without Rob and being the size of a house now, work or anything else really, was becoming more and more impossible.
I’d almost stopped crying all the time, well when I was with other people anyway, and I’d entered a sort of numb zone where nothing really touched me. Other people would live their lives and occasionally talk to me about stuff, but it was like watching a film, nothing was quite real.
39 Weeks Page 27
