The Marriage Mender

by Linda Green

  I had to admit that for an eight-year-old, her logic was pretty impressive. Unfortunately, on this particular point, it was not appreciated. Josh came into the kitchen before either of us had had a chance to formulate an answer.

  He looked at Matilda’s expectant face and both of us. ‘What’s up?’ he asked.

  ‘Nothing,’ Chris said.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ said Matilda. ‘I want to know why we can’t all go to the fireworks as a family. I don’t see why you have to go with your mum and me with my mum and we can’t all go together like we should.’

  Matilda’s evident fury took me back a little. I could tell Chris was trying very hard not to react.

  Josh looked down at the floor. ‘Sorry,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ I said. ‘It’s not a problem.’

  ‘Well, it obviously is for her,’ he replied, gesturing towards Matilda.

  ‘It’s just going to take time to adjust,’ I said. ‘For all of us.’

  Josh hesitated. ‘Look, I’ll go with you guys if it makes things easier. I’ll text Mum and let her know.’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘You don’t have to do that.’

  Chris looked up at me sharply.

  ‘He’s made arrangements,’ I said. ‘It’s not fair to mess people around at such short notice.’

  I could see Chris itching to reply, could hear the words formulating in his head, fighting to escape through his mouth. He took a swig of tea, maybe to stop them, before turning to Matilda.

  ‘Tilda, you heard what your mum said. It’s too late to change things this year. But how about I let you have an extra turn on the hook-a-duck at the fair? How does that sound?’

  Matilda considered the offer. For a moment I wondered if she was going to try to negotiate two extra turns, but I think even she sensed that Chris was not in the mood.

  ‘OK,’ she said. ‘As long as you don’t complain if I pick two big fluffy things.’

  ‘Deal,’ said Chris, managing a smile as she high-fived him before skipping upstairs.

  ‘Take it out of my pocket money,’ said Josh.

  ‘What?’ asked Chris.

  ‘The money for her extra turn.’

  ‘Don’t be a daft bugger,’ said Chris. ‘It was my decision to offer her that.’

  ‘You mean bribe her?’smiled Josh.

  ‘Yeah, well, whatever. It’s not your fault, OK? None of this is your fault.’

  Josh nodded and went to pour himself some cereal.

  ‘Thanks,’ I whispered, stroking Chris’s arm.

  He shrugged and squeezed my hand. It was a long time before he let go.

  * * *

  Kelly didn’t look old enough to be married, let alone be on the verge of a divorce. She was what Barbara would have called ‘a slip of a girl’, fair hair scraped off her face and tied back with a scrunchie, dimples when she smiled. Only a fleeting smile, mind. Though that was understandable under the circumstances.

  Luke’s frame was massive next to hers. Broad shoulders and tall with it, his fair hair cropped short around his freckled face. His jaw set firm. He had the expression of someone who has been told they have to choose between cutting off their right leg or their left. Things were clearly not good.

  I introduced myself and sat them down, told them how the sessions worked, asked if they had any questions before we began.

  ‘Do you mind if I keep my mobile on?’ asked Kelly. ‘Only Luke’s mam’s got the kids, and they are a bit of a handful. And in case there’s an emergency or whatever.’

  ‘That’s fine. I understand,’ I said.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Kelly.

  She shuffled uncomfortably. She looked like someone about to sit a GCSE maths exam.

  ‘Just remember, there are no right or wrong answers,’ I said. ‘We’re here to talk about how you’re both feeling, why you’re feeling that way and how we can work together to make things better.’

  Luke stared resolutely out of the window behind me.

  ‘OK, so perhaps we can start by talking about how you got together? Because I gather from my colleague’s notes that there are a few issues which have stemmed from that.’

  Kelly looked at Luke. He said nothing.

  She fiddled with a strand of loose hair before starting to talk. ‘Well, I were only, like, thirteen when we started seeing each other. He were in year eleven at school and I were in year nine. We didn’t tell anyone until the summer when Luke left school and started working on the building site. And then me mam flipped her lid.’

  ‘She didn’t approve?’

  ‘No. Cos of age difference, which were daft because her and me dad have got a bigger age difference than us. But she reckoned that were different cos she’d been seventeen when they’d started going out.’

  ‘And what about your family, Luke?’ I asked. ‘What was their reaction?’

  ‘It’s only me mam, like, because me dad buggered off when I were a kid. But she didn’t have a problem with it. She thought it would be good for me to settle down young. And she liked Kelly, she still does.’

  ‘And you got married when you were eighteen, Kelly.’

  ‘Yeah, day of my eighteenth birthday. We would have done it earlier, but me mam and dad wouldn’t give permission.’

  ‘And why did you want to get married rather than just live together?’

  Kelly glanced at Luke before answering. ‘He’d been ribbed by the lads at work saying he were a paedo and that. And I’d had two years of people saying it were only a schoolgirl crush. We wanted to show people that it were, like, for ever.’

  Her voice caught as she said it. She looked down and started fiddling with her wedding ring. Luke shifted in his seat. I gave them both a moment.

  ‘And so I take it you got no support from your family after you were married, Kelly?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, they practically disowned me. Which is daft, innit? I mean, I weren’t taking drugs and I weren’t up the duff or nothing. They disowned me for getting married. Duh.’

  She pulled a face as she said it. I was reminded again of how young she still was.

  ‘But you were happy?’

  ‘Yeah. We were dead happy,’ said Kelly. ‘And when I found out I were pregnant, we were chuffed about it.’

  ‘And then you had the baby and wondered what the hell had hit you,’ I said.

  Kelly and Luke both stared at me as if I must have had some inside information.

  ‘It happens to everyone,’ I said. ‘I was thirty-two when I had my daughter, and I already had a stepson, but I found it incredibly tough.’

  ‘Really,’ said Kelly. ‘You’re not just saying that?’

  ‘No. I had no idea what I was doing, I worried all the time that I was doing the wrong thing. It changes your relationship with your partner too, doesn’t it?’ I looked at Luke as I said this.

  ‘To be honest,’ he said, ‘it were like someone had kidnapped Kelly and put someone else back in her place. She were always so bright and sparky before, always having a laugh. She never used to moan about owt.’

  ‘I get right arsey when I haven’t had any sleep,’ Kelly said.

  ‘I weren’t getting at you,’ said Luke. ‘It were just hard, that’s all. Not like we thought it would be.’

  ‘And Callum were a right whingey baby,’ added Kelly. ‘So being the eejits we are, we thought we’d have another one, just to see if it were any better.’

  She laughed as she said it, but I could tell she was trying to put on a brave face.

  ‘Only “it” was twins,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, we weren’t expecting that,’ said Luke. ‘Me mam were made up at the time but she’s said to me since that it were probably worst thing that could have happened to us, like.’

  ‘Did she?’ asked Kelly. ‘You never said.’

  ‘She didn’t mean it in a bad way,’ said Luke. ‘She loves Liam and Ava to bits. She just meant that it were too much to cope with. It was her that suggested coming here,’ he sai
d, turning to me. ‘Said she’d pay for it, like.’

  ‘We do have the discretion to reduce fees to suit ability to pay. Has that all been explained to you?’

  ‘Oh yeah, but we ain’t accepting charity, like,’ said Luke. ‘We’ve always paid our way.’

  I nodded. I’d had people earning twice as much ask if they could pay less. Although the difference was that they didn’t appear to love each other half as much as Kelly and Luke did.

  * * *

  To the untrained eye, Matilda might have appeared to be fizzing like a firework herself at the prospect of the Bonfire Night out. But I was well aware that she had reached nothing like her usual excitement level. I glanced at Chris. He was obviously aware of it too.

  ‘Why can’t Josh come with us for the children’s fireworks and then go with his mum for the grown-up ones?’ asked Matilda.

  I looked at Chris. It was a good compromise and no doubt he, like me, was wishing one of us had come up with it earlier. It was too late now, though. We were due to leave in ten minutes. I was also aware that it would feel a little like those arrangements children of divorced parents have on Christmas Day. And having hated it myself as a teenager, I didn’t want to put Josh through the same thing.

  ‘Good idea, love. Maybe next year we can do that, eh?’

  Matilda sighed.

  I was praying she wouldn’t take the protest any further; I suspected from the look on his face that Chris was approaching breaking point.

  ‘We might see them while we’re there,’ she said, her face brightening for a second. ‘We’ll probably be standing right near them.’

  ‘I doubt it, love,’ I said, stroking her hair. ‘Remember how busy it is? There are thousands of people there. We probably won’t see them.’

  ‘We will if I ask Josh to wear something bright. I could lend him my flashing Santa hat, then we could easily spot him.’

  I smiled at her, though the thought of Chris having to make small talk to Lydia in front of Matilda and Josh was actually making me feel rather queasy inside. ‘Look, I’m afraid it’s just not going to happen, love. Now, let’s get our coats on and wrap up warm, it’s nearly time to go.’

  ‘She’s spoiling it,’ said Matilda, her voice an octave higher and considerably louder than previously. ‘I don’t want Josh to have another mum. I want it to be like it was before. I want her to go away again.’

  I could see the whites of Chris’s knuckles. Hear him choking back the words which were, no doubt, fighting to come out. I hurried Matilda into the hallway, desperate to get her out of the house as quickly as possible. It was only then I saw Josh on the landing.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he said, ‘I’m coming with you.’

  ‘No, love,’ I said, ‘you don’t have to do that. We can handle it.’

  ‘No, Mum texted. She can’t make it.’

  It was as if the light from Josh’s face had somehow been drained and fed directly into Matilda’s.

  ‘Yay! Josh is coming with us,’ she said. ‘We’re all going to the fireworks together.’

  ‘Did she say why?’ I asked Josh.

  ‘Something about a guy she’d met at the Trades Club last night.’

  I caught Chris’s eye. He appeared to be torn between being mad at Lydia and relieved that Josh was coming with us.

  He pulled on his jacket. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Last one down the hill is the boring Catherine wheel of the firework box.’

  ‘I like Catherine wheels,’ said Matilda.

  ‘Then the last one can be a Roman candle.’

  ‘I like them too.’

  ‘Well,’ said Chris, giving her a squeeze, ‘it doesn’t matter if you’re last, then, does it?’

  They went out of the door, laughing and poking each other. I put my scarf on and pulled my hat down over my ears.

  ‘I’m sorry, love,’ I said to Josh. ‘I know you were looking forward to seeing her.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said as he took his coat from the peg.

  It did, though. It clearly mattered very much.

  And then one day he hit Millie.

  And all the times he’d hit me went flashing through my mind. Only instead of seeing me, I saw him hitting Millie, heard her screaming, saw her arms and her legs turn black and blue and saw his footprint on her belly, and I knew I couldn’t stay there a second longer.

  I just scooped her up off the floor and walked out of the door.

  7

  ‘Is it OK if I go out tonight, to a club?’

  Josh’s voice was the brightest it had been for a week, which made it very difficult to say no. I glanced at Chris. He shrugged and nodded.

  ‘I guess so,’ I said. ‘But I thought you and Tom were watching a film at his place?’

  ‘I’m not going with Tom,’ Josh said.

  I knew instantly what that meant. Chris must have too.

  He snapped down the lid of his laptop. ‘So who are you going with?’he asked.

  Josh looked down at his feet before answering. ‘With Mum. She’s got a spare ticket for some band she reckons are really good.’

  ‘And how does Tom feel about being blown out?’ asked Chris.

  ‘He’s cool about it. Really.’

  I looked at Chris.

  He sighed, aware he was cornered. ‘OK. But don’t make a habit of letting down your best mate.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Josh. ‘I’ll let you know if the band are any good. Mum reckons you’d like them.’

  My skin bristled. She still claimed to know him. To know him in the way that you only do if you live with someone, if you’re their soulmate. I imagined them lying together listening to music. Lying in what was now our bedroom. I wondered if she used to make him compilation tapes. Whether she’d done dance ones. And ones to have sex to.

  Chris leant back in the chair and ran his fingers through his hair as Josh left the room and bounded back upstairs.

  ‘She doesn’t make it easy, does she?’ I said.

  ‘No. She never did.’

  I stared out of the window, hating the way she was doing this. Leaving silent footprints all around us.

  ‘I tell you what,’ I said, leaning over and kissing him on his forehead. ‘We should go out tonight.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because we never do.’

  ‘Fair point. I could ask Mum to babysit.’

  ‘You’re sure she won’t mind?’

  ‘What, spending a few hours of quality time with her only granddaughter?’

  ‘It might stop Matilda complaining about everyone else going out,’ I said. ‘And she’ll like having your mum all to herself.’

  ‘Good. That’s sorted.’

  ‘I’ll book a table, then,’ I said, smiling at him. I wasn’t going to let her do this. Let her memory come between us.

  * * *

  ‘You off already?’ I asked Josh later. ‘I thought you might see Grandma before you go.’

  ‘Sorry, we’re going somewhere to eat first. Nelson’s, I think.’

  ‘Is she vegetarian?’

  ‘Yeah, didn’t you know?’

  I shook my head, wondering what else I didn’t know about her. ‘Do you need some money, then?’

  ‘No, it’s OK, thanks, Mum’s paying.’

  I’d heard him say the word enough times that I should have been used to it. I wasn’t, though.

  ‘Have you got your emergency money?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah and the monkey chaff, Mrs Potato Head,’ said Josh, grinning.

  I could still remember watching Toy Story 2 with him when he was a kid. I think Chris had started calling me it first. But Josh was the one who’d carried it on every time I started listing items he may need.

  ‘Thank you for the cheek,’ I replied. ‘Home before midnight, please.’

  ‘Or I’ll turn into a pumpkin.’

  ‘How are you getting home? Has she got a car?’

  ‘No. She said she’d get me a cab.’

  ‘Well, have some more m
oney, just in case,’ I said, reaching for my purse.

  ‘I’m fine,’ he replied. ‘Stop being such a mum.’

  It must have shown on my face. Even though I tried hard to stop it.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean –’

  ‘No, it’s OK,’ I said. ‘It’s fine.’ I smiled at him. Put the ten-pound note back in my purse. ‘Have a good time, then,’ I said.

  ‘Thanks. And you.’

  He closed the front door quietly behind him. I sat down for a second on the bottom of the stairs. Conscious that Lydia had once been a proper mum to him. In this very house. Had fed him, winded him, changed his nappy, things that I had never done. So I had no right, really. No right to feel the way I was feeling. She had been here first. I was the newcomer. I was the one who couldn’t complain that a mother had come to reclaim her child.

  As long as that was all she was trying to reclaim.

  I sighed and looked at the clock. Chris and Matilda wouldn’t be back from picking up Barbara for a good half an hour yet. I decided to go and have a bath.

  * * *

  I took a long while doing my make-up afterwards. It was like being a teenager again, having the luxury of taking your time to get ready for a night out.

  I tried to remember the last time Chris and I had been out for a meal. It was probably my fortieth. Too long, really. Like dating someone every eight months, except sillier than that, because the person in question happened to be my husband. I, of all people, ought to have known not to let that happen. But somehow it had. It was time to put a stop to it.

  I took the lipliner and drew a careful outline before filling in with lipstick. It was my colour. Something called ‘damson rose’. It had taken me until I was forty to find it, but sometimes the important things in life did take time.

  I caught sight of the photo on the dressing table. The black and white one of me cradling a newborn Matilda in my arms, my cheeks red and my eyes moist with tears. I hadn’t realised until that moment how similar it was to the one of Lydia with Josh which he’d shown me. It wasn’t surprising of course. The same photographer had taken it. The only difference was that mine hadn’t been put away in a box, out of sight and out of mind.