by Nancy Barone
‘Not in the least.’
Oh. Okay. Good.
*
‘Are you sleeping with him?’ Chloe asked out of the blue when they returned Sunday night. Not so out of the blue, on second thought, seeing as we had been alone in the house for forty-eight hours. I should have thought that one out better.
‘Who?’ I said, feigning distraction.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Luke – who do you think, Mickey Mouse?’
‘Chloe! What a question to ask your mother…’
‘Well, are you, or aren’t you?’
‘Of course not.’ What was that about little white lies turning into huge black mushrooms? ‘Our relationship is strictly business.’
Chloe snorted. ‘Dad said you’d better not be.’
‘Well, sweetheart, your father no longer has any say over me. Nor does anyone else.’
I only wished I could shake the image of Jack’s disappointed face out of my head.
*
Later that day I decided I needed to talk to Emma. So I got in my car, drove to Truro and knocked on her door. When she didn’t answer, I pressed the doorbell. Sometimes she was out in the garden with her radio on. I knew she was in because her car was parked out front, and Em never walked anywhere. It had been a running joke between us since we met.
After a long moment, the door opened, but it wasn’t Emma at the door. It was Jack, on his way out, and surprised to see me.
‘Nina!’ he said, and Emma popped her head out the door, her face flushed.
‘Hi!’ I chirped, my voice dying in my throat. ‘Is something wrong? You guys look… angry. Have you been quarrelling or something?’ They hadn’t even heard the doorbell.
Jack’s eyes swung to Emma’s and then he forced a laugh. ‘Of course not. I came to… sort Emma’s Wi-Fi.’
I looked between the two of them. Neither seemed thrilled to see me.
‘Guys,’ I said. ‘I know I haven’t been around much lately, but I’m here for you both.’
Emma huffed. ‘Thanks.’
‘Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Emma said. ‘I can’t.’
‘And I have to see someone,’ Jack added.
‘Hot date?’ I said and his eyes swung to Emma’s before he laughed. ‘Me? Nah.’
‘Oh, okay, then,’ I said. ‘Shall we, uhm, reschedule?’
Emma coughed. ‘Yeah, sure. I have to get back to work now. I have a client from hell. Thanks again for your help, Jack,’ Emma said as she ducked back inside to get her bag. It was like she didn’t even want me to come in.
He waved her away. ‘Don’t mention it.’
29
Mystery Man
The next day I went to drop Ben off at his friend Joe’s and also back to see Emma’s new place in Truro where Chanel and Chloe would be having another sleepover.
This time I bought her a housewarming present, i.e. a gin tumbler and glasses for her fun fests.
She was behaving very oddly indeed lately. On a personal level, she seemed to be all over the place, but on the other hand, her job was going well. It was like she’d been injected with some energy drug lately as she bounced around the whole time and her eyes were bright with excitement. I wondered if it wasn’t just her new client. And yes, she was definitely sleeping with someone. All the signs were there. But she had made it clear that she wasn’t ready to talk about it. Who on earth could it be? Her bank manager? Her accountant? Those were the only men I saw her with on a regular basis, if you didn’t count Jack.
‘It’s not a house house with a garden or anything, but it’s conducive to our lifestyle,’ she explained as she proudly showed me around. ‘We go out the front door and straight into the thick of it. It’s perfect for Chanel as it’s only a bus ride away from Northwood, and it has huge bright rooms.’
‘I’m so happy for you, Em. Even if I miss you, I know this is the right step for you to take. Your business will flourish in Truro and you might even meet a city bloke.’
At that, she paled. ‘I’m sorry about yesterday, Nina.’
‘Don’t mention it. You’ll talk when you’re ready.’
‘And this,’ she said, moving towards the kitchen, a modern, glossy affair that spoke of fashionista Emma, ‘is the largest waste of space as far as I’m concerned because, as you know, I don’t cook much.’
It was almost clinical, but magazine beautiful – so far from my own drab and unfinished kitchen that always had something on the boil or in the oven.
‘I’d die for a kitchen like this, Em! You should use it!’
‘No, this is where my bread and butter is,’ she said, gesturing to the living room that was decorated as an office. It had period features such as a fire and crown moulding, and a new glass desk, with a swivel chair and a super-modern but comfy padded bench instead of two guest chairs.
Everywhere there were pictures of her past weddings on show, giving the room a refined yet welcoming atmosphere. Her clients would indeed feel that she was worth their money, and much much more.
‘Chanel and I use the third bedroom as a living space,’ she explained.
‘That’s a great idea, Em. This place is gorgeous, congratulations!’
‘And the bedrooms are upstairs.’
‘Ooh, a duplex,’ I chimed as we climbed the period staircase. ‘How very chic!’
Chanel’s room was practically a replica of Chloe’s with the same uniform hanging from the wardrobe door, the same cosmetics scattered across the dresser, and the same pictures of each other and themselves wedged into the mirror. All in all, the standard teen-girl’s den.
‘Now that we’ve seen your bedroom, let’s see Chanel’s,’ I quipped.
‘Haha, I know I’m messy, but here is me,’ Em said, pushing the door open.
I cast a casual glance, and stopped in my tracks. There, hanging from a hanger on the door, was a man’s jumper. My eyes swung to hers.
‘It’s for one of my clients,’ she explained hastily, but I knew her better than her own mother.
Her eyes darted from me to the door. ‘No one, I told you.’
I shrugged. ‘Okay, sorry, Em. I didn’t mean to pry.’
*
On the drive home, I wondered about Em. Why was it such a secret? Had she been carrying on with someone at her previous company, and got sacked? Maybe that Nigel bloke? But Emma had always implied that he was gay. But there were literally no other men at her company, unless… her boss? No way. He was married, and Emma was not the kind of person to sneak behind people’s backs. Her loyalty and honesty were what had won me over in the first place.
Suddenly, a pall of sadness descended upon me. In the space of a couple of months, we had drifted apart as each of us kept our lives secret, almost as if we were ashamed of our choices. It seemed we truly were no longer the Three’s Company of Meadowbank Lane.
After three full years of supporting each other through thick and thin, births, deaths, and divorces, we had suddenly shot apart. Was it my fault, because I was so busy with the script? Or was it because Emma had moved to Truro, or because Jack met new people every day, leaving not even a tiny crack in the day for us to chat?
Or had Luke’s monumental presence put a wedge between us all? I’d tried several times to organise another dinner so we could all sit around the table together, Jack included, but there was always something stopping it. How could a friendship like ours wither out and die like that? Were we like icebergs slowly drifting apart on a silent sea, going out without a fight on the gelid currents of life?
30
Gone With The Wind
Because I promised Chloe I wouldn’t call incessantly like I always did when she was out and about the village, I stalked her instead. Chloe loved to post pictures of herself, and this time I saw with joy that she and Chanel were once again #BloodSisters as the post assured me they were alive but not kicking anymore, which was music to my ears.
About an hour before the kids were
due home, Phil showed up on my doorstep, looking like something that the cat had dragged in.
‘Hi, Nina!’ he called, barely recognisable, when I opened the front door.
The red nose, not to mention the flabby abdomen, were a gift from too many beers and evenings on the settee when instead he could have taken the kids for a hike or a picnic, were all a result of the way he lived his life.
His boyhood beauty was rapidly fading, and knowing him as I did, I knew he was panicking about it, and if I had once found things about him endearing, such as his fondness for lounging around in bed on a Sunday morning, they were now the part of him that I resented most. And even the slowest girl on the planet would eventually come to her senses and ditch him before he put an unwanted baby inside her. I hoped, for Tracy’s sake, that she would open her eyes and walk away before he ruined her life as well.
‘What do you want?’ I said, blocking the door with my body.
‘To apologise for not coming to get the kids myself. That’s why I came the other day, but I didn’t want to say anything in front of your Hollywood friend.’
‘You could have called them, Phil. They waited for you on the stairs. And what’s this rubbish about you sending your girlfriend?’
‘Jealous, huh?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Nauseated, actually. Did you really think I was going to hand my children over to a perfect stranger?’
‘Our children, Nina. Our children.’
‘Not that you’d know, Phil.’
‘Look, I know I screwed up with you years ago. But I want to make it up to you.’
‘Really? You mean you’ve found the money you took from me and a time machine to get back all my years wasted on you?’
He opened his mouth but then closed it again, defeated. And then he remembered his ammunition.
‘I’m not happy about you and that Yankee rubbin’ more than just shoulders,’ he said, quite pleased with his new-found wit. ‘Sleeping with him with the kids around and all.’
Which I didn’t, of course. I took off my glasses and speared him with my best Cross-Mum look that put even him in his place. ‘I beg your pardon?’
He looked at me, his once lovely forehead lined. ‘When did I lose you, Nina?’
When had he lost me? Probably while I was holding down several jobs, preparing meals, scrubbing the floors (and his muddy sweatshirts fresh from a football game), managing the household and writing three novels all the while he sat on the sofa munching on junk food, completely ignoring me as I ran rings around him with my duster and mop while trying at the same time to help the kids with their homework.
‘Because I see you have lost your way,’ he said.
I had lost my way? ‘Out.’
‘What? I’m not even in yet.’
‘Nor will you be. Now piss off.’
‘Nina, all I’m sayin’ is that… I’m jealous.’
‘Don’t be. For some reason I can’t explain, the kids love you.’
‘It’s not them I’m worried about!’
I snorted. ‘No surprise there.’ And then I understood. He was jealous about the movie and the money I’d hopefully be making. It wasn’t enough that I had never, nor would ever be dependent on him for survival.
‘Nina – when are you gonna get it through your thick skull that I still love you! And it kills me to know you an’ ’im are sleeping in our bed.’
‘Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,’ I informed him. ‘I threw that bed out three years ago.’
He wrung his hands like a child about to get scolded. ‘That should be me with you upstairs, Nina. Not him. I wanna come back, babe.’
‘You what?’
‘You heard.’
‘So what happened to Tracy, then?’
He shrugged. ‘She’s just a girl, Nina. You’re a woman. My woman.’
‘Not anymore, Phil. You had your chance and blew it.’
‘But I don’t like you sleeping with that man. And you are legally still my wife.’
Dear oh dear. ‘I owe you nothing, Phil, and what I do with my time or whom I sleep with is my business. Is that clear?’
He crossed his arms and slid me a sullen glance as if I’d taken his crisps from him.
‘Now get out, I’m busy.’
‘Nina, wait.’
‘What now?’
He crumpled his face in his best I’m sorry expression, the one he used to make when he came home drunk or spent our weekly grocery money at the gambling tables.
‘You will always be my love – no matter what you do, or where you go. You are the mother of my children. How can I ever forget you?’
I snorted, sad but also grateful that life had been so unkind to me as to make me wary of men. It was, after all, his fault that I could no longer believe that love conquered all. It was his fault that I was taking Luke one day at a time, rather than abandoning myself to the joys of a new relationship. And it was his fault if I simply couldn’t commit to anything long-term without expecting to be dumped. If this sack of rubbish had considered his own children and myself a burden, how could someone like Luke want to stay?
Phil made to lift my chin to look into my eyes, but I stepped back. His was the gaze I didn’t wish to hold. There were too many memories in there, and the past was somewhere I couldn’t afford to go anymore. It had taken me too long to recuperate from the uphill journey, and now there was no way I was ever looking back upon all the hardship and pain.
‘Seriously, Nina. You will always be the lovely girl I married thirteen years ago.’
‘Seriously, Phil. You will always be the bloke who left me three years ago,’ I said and closed the door on his face.
‘What was that all about?’ came Luke’s voice from behind me.
I whirled around. ‘Oh, nothing. Just Phil acting up again.’
‘He still loves you. Jesus, Nina, what was the point of even writing this book if you can’t put the past behind you?’ he asked, coming to stand in front of me.
‘Oh, I have, trust me.’
‘You mean you’re not still in love with him?’
What the hell was he talking about? ‘Of course I’m not.’
‘You wouldn’t be the first. Women are so fickle.’
‘Maybe your women are. I’m sure as hell not.’
He snorted. ‘Your book was full of all sorts of stories about how your husband was a waste of space, and how you dreamed of ditching him. But not once did you ever mention still having feelings for him.’
‘Because I don’t. My book is fiction. A story.’
‘There’s always a piece of truth in fiction.’
‘Like in all your spy movies and thrillers? Look,’ I reasoned. ‘Why would I lie about this?’
‘Then what’s stopping you from moving on? I feel like you’re trying to not let go and ride the wave with me. Where are you?’
‘I’m here, Luke.’
‘Are you?’
‘Yes. But I do have some reservations about us, now that you mention it.’
‘I knew it. Like what?’
‘Come on, Luke. Seriously? You’re from bloody Hollywood and I’m from… Realville. How could it ever work?’
He huffed. ‘When are you gonna understand that I want this? I want a normal life… with you.’
‘Ah, you may want that now. But what happens when you wake up one day and look around yourself and see nothing but… un-Hollywood stuff?’
‘Nina, will you cut it out with the Hollywood stuff? It’s not who I am, it’s what I do. And if you want to know the truth, I’m getting tired of it.’
I stopped. So my suspicions had been right. ‘Tired? What do you mean?’
‘I mean I want this to be my last movie. At least for now. I need a break, I want to raise my daughter and be free to love. I want you to be able to love me without having a lens shoved in your face every time we step out for dinner or go for a walk.’
Whoa, whoa, whoa – his last movie? Hadn’t he said he wanted to do all
three books if the first one went well? Not to be greedy, but this was a total U-turn I was not expecting.
He took my arms. ‘Why the face? You think my feelings for you won’t last? What are you so worried about? That I’ll be dying to run back to Tinseltown?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Luke. I just don’t want all of us to get used to having you around and then… you know.’
‘Listen to me, Nina. I have a daughter too. You think that if I had one tiny doubt I’d tell her about us and let her become attached to you only to never see you again? I haven’t brought a girl home in years. What does that tell you?’
‘I… I don’t know.’
‘I think we know what the real issue is here, Nina. It’s not bloody stardom, is it? It’s Phil.’
I felt my jaw drop. ‘Again with Phil?’
He crossed his arms in front of his chest. ‘Yes, Phil, and the fact that you never got over him.’
‘Oh, come on, Luke, I thought you understood…’
‘I know what it’s like – you think you’re over someone. You start dating someone else who seems to be perfect for you. You’re actually doing fine. But then, all it takes is one tiny memory and whoosh, it all comes back to you. With a vengeance.’
I stared at him. ‘Is that what you think is happening?’
He nodded and looked at me with something between pain and anger. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I think it is, actually…’
‘You’re wrong. So wrong.’
‘Am I?’
‘Luke, please don’t be like this…’
‘I’m not being like anything, Nina. Can’t you see? The guy’s pulling out all the stops to win you back.’
I took his hands. ‘Luke, listen to me. Even if you weren’t in my life, I still wouldn’t get back with Phil. Not even if he was the last man on earth. And furthermore—’ I stopped in mid-sentence as I recognised the dialogue I had written more than three years ago and it dawned on me that we were having that very same conversation. He had steered me straight into Stella’s words and I’d walked right into it.
‘You sneaky bastard. I can’t believe you’d do this to me!’
‘Ah, I was waiting for you to recognise your own words…’ he half-accused.
