by Sophie King
Jack’s head nodded. ‘You took us once.’
Sophie cut in. ‘You don’t remember but I do. Don’t I, Mum?’
Lizzie nodded. She and Tom had taken them when they were younger, back to Shanklin where she and her parents had stayed. It had been glorious weather but Tom had been distracted. Always going off to make phone calls. Snappy too. Alison had been right when she’d said at the group the other month that it was so easy to remember the good bits and not the bad.
How long ago had that island holiday been? At least five years. Could he – oh God – have been having an affair then with Sharon? Or someone else?
‘I wish Dad was having fish and chips with us,’ said Jack suddenly.
‘Me too.’
Lizzie reached out and squeezed her daughter’s hand. ‘He’ll be here soon. He’s going to collect you.’
Sophie nodded and looked as though she was going to say something.
‘Do he and Sharon . . . do they argue? You know. Just a bit. About . . . television and that sort of thing?’
Sophie bit her lip. ‘Sometimes. Sharon says I should only have half an hour a day on my laptop like Ellie even though she’s younger than me.’
‘He’s here!’
Jack leaped up excitedly. ‘Dad’s here! Look, we’ve got you fish and chips! I’ve saved you some of mine.’
She hadn’t changed the locks when he’d moved out. Kept them the same so he could come back if he wanted.
‘Hi.’ Tom nodded awkwardly at her and a weird feeling hit her stomach. He was wearing a shirt she’d never seen before (had Sharon The Slut chosen it?). And he seemed thinner. It suited him. Was it possible that this was the man she had virtually grown up with as an adult? The man she’d bought her first house with? The man who was the father of her children. The man who . . .
‘I don’t want to go.’
Sophie was standing up, her lip trembling. ‘I don’t want to leave Mum.’
Tom shot her a look that said, ‘What have you said to her?’
‘Nothing,’ she wanted to yell. ‘I could have poisoned her against you but I haven’t. Honestly.’
Instead, she put her arm round her daughter. ‘But darling, you’ve got all your things at Sharon’s. Your teddy and . . .’
‘Dad can go and get my teddy.’
She knew that would work! Sophie might be twelve but she still couldn’t sleep without Bruno the bear.
‘And what about your school things for the next day?’
‘Dad can get those too.’
She shrugged at Tom. ‘What do you think? I don’t want to upset Sharon.’
Whoops. Too much there.
‘We must do what is best for the children.’ He spoke stiffly. ‘That’s what we’ve always said.’
Yeah right. And leaving them was the best thing, was it? No. She could almost hear Dan’s voice in her head. Don’t say that stuff, Lizzie. Keep calm.
‘Well why don’t you stay and finish your fish and chips?’ She already had the kettle on. ‘Jack needs to see you for a bit.’
Tom looked in the direction of the sitting room where Jack had disappeared. ‘Does he? He doesn’t seem that bothered now.’
She cut him a large slice of apple pie which had always been his favourite. ‘You know what kids are like. Sky’s the limit!’
He smiled and began to tuck into the pie. His favourite. Thank God for the freezer section. She only hoped she hadn’t injected too much rum although maybe, with hindsight, she should have cleaned out the syringe which had last been used to get antibiotics down the hamster’s throat (now deceased).
‘So!’ She forced herself to speak brightly. ‘Are you excited?’
‘Excited?’
‘About your new baby? The new family you’re going to have soon.’
Whoops. A bit of bitterness had definitely crept in there.
‘Lizzie, it’s not the same.’
Her heart leaped. ‘What do you mean?’
Slowly, he put down his spoon. ‘It’s not the same without you. I miss you all. I didn’t mean Sharon to get pregnant. It was only the once, you know. And it was her that kissed me first. And . . .’
‘Daddy!’ Jack was running in and jumping on Tom’s knee.
Lizzie sat there, unable to speak, her head reeling. Didn’t mean to get her pregnant? Just the once? She kissed HIM first? So it hadn’t been two months?
Did that mean . . ?
Tom was getting up. ‘I’d better be going now, especially if I’m coming back with Sophie’s stuff. I won’t be long.’
He threw her a glance as he left. A glance which if she knew him (and she’d always thought she had), meant, ‘I miss you.’
Quickly, she flew upstairs, changed and re-did her make up. Sharon only lived a few minutes away. She didn’t have long before he got back.
There was a noise at the door. Don’t go down yet. Let him wait. Let him want her to be there.
‘Daddy’s brought my stuff,’ called up Sophie.
Don’t rush. Let him wait. Put on that new floaty top which she’d borrowed from the fashion cupboard at work and maybe . . .
‘He’s gone.’
Sophie was back in front of Sky, hugging Bruno the bear. ‘Said he’d call tomorrow. Can I stay up late to watch this Mum? She made a face. ‘Sharon never let me. Said I went to bed far too late for my age. It’s cool to be back.’
Today I can’t breathe. It’s happened before but not as suddenly as this. It came on me out of the blue, like a huge mass at the top of my chest forcing me to stop. Right there. In Marylebone High Street. Right outside the Oxfam designer shop.
Someone actually stopped and asked if I was all right which showed I must have looked awful.
The terrible thing is that I almost told this nice woman what was wrong.
So OK. I give in. I WILL make that phone call. The one you’ve been telling me to make for ages.
And if that doesn’t work, there will only be one thing left for me to do.
Session Eight: Dating Again - Slowly, Slowly!
Do you feel lonely?
Or angry?
Both can be reasons for going out with someone else again – too soon! You want to prove that you’re still attractive. And that’s understandable, especially with spring in the air!
But be careful.
Don’t go too fast!
35
ALISON
Wow! Alison had forgotten how slippery the wretched thing could be! It virtually shot out of her hand, just then. Of course, she was only trying it out! She wouldn’t use it. Just wanted to check she could still put it in, that was all, after not having used it for – heavens! Had it really been that long? Somehow, just cuddling up with David had been enough for her; there was nothing more reassuring than the warmth of the person you’d known for nearly thirty years. At least that’s what she’d always thought.
Besides, it was such a performance to put it in that she had often found herself asking if he ‘felt like it’ to save herself the bother of fiddling around with all that gel.
Only now could she see that Sex by Appointment had probably been as much of a turn off for him as it had for her.
Right. One more go with maybe a bit more spermicide round the rim. Maybe if she put her foot up on the closed loo seat and slid it in that way. How crazy that there weren’t more alternatives in the contraception line for the over 50s! Maybe they just weren’t expected to do that sort of thing any more.
David obviously didn’t think so. So frankly, it would serve him right if she did sleep with Hugh tonight.
Rinsing her hands, Alison glanced in the mirror. Make up in place. Beige bra/body thing from La Senza (using nearly half of Clive’s weekly rent!). A light, knee-length, polyester-might-pass-for-silk dress, and ten denier glossy tights (the warmer weather was making her feel reckless!). Mobile on Silent in the clutch handbag, along with a handkerchief. Thank goodness Jules had chosen to go out tonight! Since her daughter had moved back home, int
o Ross's old room, (‘I can’t afford to rent, Mum, and Ross says I can’t sleep on his sofa forever’), she hadn’t had a minute’s peace.
Just look at the mess! Jumpers strewn over the floor; empty cereal bowls on the carpet where she had had breakfast in front of the television instead of sitting up properly. Remote control behind the sofa cushions.
To be fair, Jules had gone out and got a job. But at the local deli! Had she sweated and nagged her daughter through her exams to enable her to stand behind a counter and serve croissants? What are you going to do with your life, she kept asking, and Jules would give her the kind of look that suggested she had no right to ask before telling her to go away and leave her alone.
The only person Jules seemed to be talking to was her aunt (with whom she’d always got on well), as well as the puppy. Only that morning, she’d come downstairs to find Jules curled up with him on her lap, talking quietly as she had done to Mungo when they had both been small.
‘Bye Sam.’ Alison knelt down and kissed him on his little black nose. It was so nice to be able to do that again. So lovely to be able to bury her face in his warm fur, just like she used to with Mungo. And besides, it wasn’t as though she was replacing her old dog. Just a few weeks, Karen had promised her. She was bound to have found an owner by then and in the meantime, it would help her so much if Alison could be a foster parent. ‘Won’t be long. See you later.’
The puppy was still looking at her with those dark eyes that seemed to read exactly what she was thinking. ‘Of course I’ll be back. Just don’t wait up! And don’t go getting lost in the garden again!’
‘I won’t.’
Alison whirled round. How embarrassing! Clive was standing there, with a big grin on his face. ‘Going out somewhere nice, I hope.’
She nodded. ‘Sort of. Sorry, I didn’t realise you were in.’
He strode across the kitchen and put on the kettle. For the first time, she didn’t get that funny pang she normally got when one of her lodgers did that. It almost felt nice to know that someone else was around. In fact, for a second there, she found herself wishing that she was staying in that evening with Sam on her knee and that daft series she’d started watching on E4.
‘Mind keeping an eye on Sam while I’m gone?’
‘Love to.’ Clive was kneeling down now, just as she had been a few minutes ago, stroking the puppy as though he was a kitten. ‘Nice little chap, isn’t he? Don’t go much on the name, though.’
‘It wouldn’t have been my first choice.’
‘I used to work with a girl who bought a dog after her husband walked out. She named it after him. Kenny, it was. She said it gave her a real thrill to yell out his name and find he came running back to her, unlike her old man.’
Alison giggled, wondering if she should change Sam’s name to David. Didn’t sound right somehow.
‘That’s nice.’ He gave her an odd look which she couldn’t read.
‘What is?’
Another look. ‘You’re giggling. You should do it more. And I like the way you’ve fluffed up your hair. Anyway, have a good time. And don’t worry, I won’t wait up. Or get lost in the garden. That reminds me. Would you like me to trim the hedge for you this weekend if the weather holds out? It’s quite spring-like now, isn’t it?’
How very kind! Bleep! A text message? From Caroline?
‘You didn’t tell me about writing the acne cream press release! Luckily, the client seemed to think it was all right (just as well you’re an expert on that sort of thing, thanks to your kids) but please let me know in future. I need to check it first. Still, as you didn’t make too much of a mess with it, you can have a go with another if you like. I’ll email the info (you do know how to open attachments, don’t you?). It’s about a new menopausal health supplement. Just up your street!’
Dinner at my place, Hugh had suggested. His old place. The apartment he’d decided to stay in after he’d declined to rent one of her rooms. He’d wanted to drive over to collect her ‘to make it easier for you’ but she’d declined. If she drove herself, she could leave when she wanted.
It took longer to get there than she’d thought. The address Hugh had given her was near Gerrards Cross which she didn’t know very well. Blast! Alison’s mouth began to go dry. She hated being late and even worse, she hadn’t thought of asking for Hugh’s mobile number. Just as she thought of it, her own rang out although someone had changed the tone (Jules?).
‘Alison. I just wondered if you were lost. It’s a bit foggy tonight isn’t it and I didn’t like to think of you going round in circles.’
How thoughtful!
Gratefully, she explained that indeed she was but instead of giving her more directions, he insisted that she should pull in – ‘If you’re by the post box, I know exactly where you are’ – and he would come out in his car and she could follow him.
Hugh’s chivalrous behaviour at leading the way back to his apartment (‘My word, you look wonderful. I do like your hair!’), was just the beginning. From the minute she stepped through the Victorian front door into a surprisingly spacious hall with beautiful black and white tiles and lilies on the mahogany hall table, she felt at home. How could he possibly have imagined renting a room in her house when he was clearly able to afford much more?
‘What would you like to drink?’ he asked, opening a lovely walnut Georgian corner cabinet in the sitting room, which had beautiful bay windows and a window seat looking out over the common. ‘I’ve got most things here.’
He had indeed! ‘Actually, I’m afraid I’m rather boring.’ She gave a small laugh which even to her sounded ridiculous. ‘I never drink when I’m driving so that if I am stopped, I can honestly say I haven’t had a drop.’
He nodded approvingly, thrusting his hands into his brown cords which he’d teamed, rather fetchingly, with a checked shirt similar to the ones advertised in The Sunday Times supplements. ‘Very sensible. Let’s see . . . I’ve got apple juice; elderflower; nettle tea if you want something warmer. Want to come into the kitchen to choose?’
She followed him into – again – a surprisingly spacious, square kitchen with a gleaming range at one end and an American fridge. It smelt as though something delicious was coming from the range.
‘Vegetarian lasagne,’ he said, raising an eyebrow as though checking that was all right. ‘I haven’t eaten meat for years myself. But I’ve also knocked together a goats cheese and asparagus quiche if you don’t like the sound of the lasagne.’
A man who cooked! She could just imagine Caroline’s reaction. David’s idea of cooking had been dropping into Waitrose on the way home from work.
‘Love your apartment.’
‘Thanks.’ He spoke as though others had also complimented him in the past. ‘It actually belongs to my niece who works in the States and I thought I was going to have to leave – which is why I was flat hunting. But now she’s going to be away a bit longer.’
The same niece he had mentioned before?
‘She inherited it from my sister,’ he said quietly as though reading her unasked question.
The sister who had died. How sad!
He handed her a glass (pink fluted edges) of elderflower. ‘People say divorce is like a bereavement but death is much worse. It’s a rip-roaring agony that spreads through you from morning to night so that when you wake up in the morning, it’s still there.’
She had felt like that after David, although now it was beginning to ease off, but before she could say anything, he had turned away and was opening the oven door with a pair of blue and white striped oven gloves that looked suspiciously clean.
‘Enough of that! We’re here to enjoy ourselves. Do sit down.’
They had a lovely evening, despite her reservations about the clean oven gloves which had made her wonder, very uncharitably, if Hugh wasn’t used to cooking and if the lasagne and the quiche (which he persuaded her to try just to see what she thought of the recipe) were really his own.
But they
were. That was definitely home-made pastry and besides, the cookery book, still out on the sparkling black and white granite counter, was covered with floury finger prints.
After pudding (a mouth-watering bowl of home-made fruit salad with mangos and pears and black grapes), they had coffee in the small conservatory that led off the kitchen. Another reason why he had leapt at the apartment, he had confided. He’d had a larger one before and it was, he had to admit, one of the things he missed.
Alison, thinking of her own lovely conservatory at home where she’d discovered cigarette ends the other day even though she had quite clearly told the lodgers that smoking wasn’t allowed in the house, understood that.
‘How are the lodgers going?’
She smiled wryly. ‘You’ll be pleased you didn’t join us. One of them nearly caused a fire and the new one plays music all night.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘What about your puppy? You were telling me about looking after him for Karen.’
He was a good listener, she’d give him that. ‘Actually, Sam is the only member of the household that’s making Jules smile. But he’s a little rascal. I had a real scare the other week when he got through the hedge into the neighbour’s garden. He was gone for over two hours and I had to tell Karen he was missing. Then minutes later, he turned up, tail between his legs, at the back door!’
Hugh made an amused noise but then there was an awkward silence. Quick! Think of something to move the conversation on! Her eyes landed on the shelves of books around the room; lovely, mahogany shelves groaning with a fascinating mixture of paperbacks and hardbacks too.
‘I love all your books!’
‘Wonderful, aren’t they!’ His eyes lit up. ‘My sister and I have always loved books.’ He reached out towards an orange spine. ‘Ever read this? It’s a wonderful account of a woman travelling round the world on her own after a divorce. Really moving.’
