The Rise and Fall of a Domestic Diva

by Sarah May

  For a moment he looked angry, almost revolted by her. ‘I don’t knowwe’ll talk about it after the case.’

  ‘This case?’

  ‘This case.’ He tried to roll away, but she’d pinned the duvet down so that he couldn’t move. Up close, she smelt of mouthwash and the smell irritated him; irritated him in quite a profound way.

  ‘After this case there’ll be another one…there’ll always be another case,’ she added.

  ‘I suppose,’ he said, watching her now.

  ‘So my point still standslater when?’

  He sighed and said loudly, ‘I don’t know. Why are we even talking about this now? I’m getting on average four hours’ sleep a night at the moment—’

  Ros cut in with, ‘So why the pills?’

  ‘What pills?

  ‘The sleeping pills.’

  ‘I’m not sleeping. Over-exhaustion. My mind won’t stop so I just have to shut it down.’ He paused. ‘It’s because I’m terrifiedall the time at the momentof missing something.’

  ‘Missing something?’

  ‘Missing the point; something vital that will swing this for us.’

  ‘The point?’

  ‘The point.’

  ‘Of the case.’

  ‘Of the caseright.’ He paused again, ‘And I haven’t been home in over a week or something.’

  ‘Ten daysyou haven’t been home in ten days.’

  ‘That’s a long time,’ he conceded, ambiguously. ‘So now isn’t the time to talk about big stuff.’

  ‘There’s never a time to talk about big stuffthe big stuff’s the stuff you have to make the time for.’

  ‘But not right now, not tonight. I really am fucking knackered, Ros.’

  That was the second time Martin had swornMartin never swore.

  ‘I just need to know that there will be a time, that’s all.’

  He didn’t say anything.

  ‘That a third child’s on the cards…at some point.’

  ‘But, Rosd’you even want another one?’

  ‘Not right now, but maybe at some point I willI just need to know that it’s a possibility.’

  ‘Or what?’ he said.

  ‘And I was thinking,’ she carried on, ‘if a third child is on the cards, we’d have to think about movingat some point.’

  ‘Moving?’

  ‘Maybe out of London.’

  ‘Ros…’

  ‘Just think what we’d get if we sold thiswhat we’d get for our money in, I don’t know, Kent or something. You could commute.’

  ‘Commute.’ He groaned.

  ‘Okay, okay. But we will talk about it?’

  ‘Another kid, or moving?’

  ‘Well, they’re sort of interconnected.’

  ‘Look, Rosat the moment, we just need a break.’ He paused. Ros was looking at him, terrified. ‘I mean, Tobes has got into St Anthony’s so we’ve got nothing to worry about until he’s eleven. We just need to relax.’

  ‘But what if Toby hadn’t got into St Anthony’s?’

  ‘Roshe did get in, so…’

  ‘What if he hadn’t?’ she insisted. ‘Would you have considered moving out then?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Whatyou would have been happy for him to go to Brunton Park?’ Ros yelled in disbelief.

  ‘Ros, this is too…too hypothetical for me right now.’

  Martin finally managed to turn away as Ros got up, slipped off her dressing gown and left it in a silky pile on the floor before getting into bed. This was something she never didshe always hung things up.

  It was cold and she instinctively curled herself against Martin’s spine.

  Martin flinched.

  Thinking he might be in the process of falling asleephe often made jerking movements as he started to lose consciousnessshe kissed the top of his arm.

  Martin flinched again.

  She thought he might be asleep, but he wasn’t and as he rolled onto his back, she started to move her hand across his chestthe fingers spread out, feeling their way. She wanted to kiss him and touch him; she was entitled toand was beginning to feel almost tearful as she thought about all the things she was entitled to that never seemed to happen any more.

  Then, at just the wrong moment, she flicked her eyes up the length of his chest and caught him staring, transfixed, at the ceiling, his hand curled back on his forehead. A million miles away.

  She rolled quickly away from him onto her back, subconsciously adopting the same pose.

  ‘Listen, Ros…’

  She felt herself start to blush at the sound of his voice. She always blushed before she criedshe’d been doing it ever since she was a child. ‘Martin,’ she cut him short, then hesitated. She didn’t know what to say. All she knew was that she had to stop him speaking because he was about to say something that was going to change all their lives forever and she wasn’t about to let him do thatnot now, not tonight. ‘You’re tired,’ she said, ‘tired, that’s all.’

  Martin tried to speak again, but the Seniton caught up with him and a minute later there was a snapping sound not unlike a spring being released as his head fell to one side, a thin line of saliva running across his cheek.

  Ros lay awake for a long time after this.

  She had surprised herself with that comment about moving out of London; wasn’t aware until she’d said it that she had consciously thought of it as a solution to the whole disaster of Toby not getting into St Anthony’s. Martin could commute from Kent. She could start up Carpe Diem Life Classes in Kent. She tried to picture them all living somewhere in rural Kent…embarking on a new beginning among oast houses, apple orchards and hop fields. To start with it might be exciting, but after that…when they’d settled down? It might occur to them that they’d had their last new beginning and all that was left to them was to grow oldor apart.

  If only Toby had got into St Anthony’s then none of this would be happening. If only her nose wasn’t so bigif only her breasts werethen none of this would be happening. She pulled herself up short. What was it exactly that she thought was happening? And anyway, she was an educated woman. St Anthony’s, her nose, her breasts: these were all things she was more than capable of coping with…dealing with…rectifying.

  She became aware of her shoulder blades digging into the mattress they’d had since their first flat together in Finsbury; that had moved with them three times now and that needed replacing, but that she couldn’t bring herself to replace.

  This mattress had absorbed as much of their life together as they had. It used to absorb a lot of laughter, but Martin didn’t laugh so much any more. He smiled, but his smiles had the effect of disconnecting rather than connecting her to him. Martin’s smiles just weren’t right and now, alone in bed with him, she was beginning to doubt whether his laughter ever had been either.

  One of them had lost the willand it wasn’t her.

  Chapter 25

  As Kate drove between No. 236 Prendergast Road and No. 22, she was unable to get the image of Miles and Jessica standing together in the Burgesses’ kitchen out of her mind and was suddenly desperate to see Robert in a way she hadn’t been for a long timelonger than she could remember.

  Her post-PRC migraine vanished; even the fact that Findlay hadn’t got into St Anthony’s became nothing more than a dimly lit feature at the back of her mind as she accelerated down the badly lit street, past the front garden where a schoolboy had been raped in August the year before.

  Parking badly outside their house, she ran through the rain to the front door, a sense of urgency making it difficult to get the right key in the lock.

  The hall light had been left on.

  She made her way upstairs and as she passed the lounge door heard Margery, who must have been dreaming, mumbling, ‘Not now Tom.’ Then Margery started giggling. It was unsettling, this unconscious stream of giggles coming from an elderly woman.

  Kate carried on upstairs and into their bedroom.

  Robert was sl
umped awkwardly against the pillows, his head flopping over a book Ros had given herHow to Eliminate Life’s Toxins.

  She sat down and gently pulled the book away from him and a few seconds later he jerked suddenly awake, snorting loudly before lying down and pulling the duvet up over him.

  Smiling, Kate kicked off her shoes and curled up next to him, stroking his ears. She carried on stroking them, absently, unconsciously inhaling the familiar smells rising from his warm bodyand was on the verge of falling asleep herself, fully clothed, when he turned round suddenly, his eyes wide open, large and helpless, staring at her.

  ‘Hey,’ he said sleepily, ‘it’s you.’

  He eased himself contentedly onto his back, then turned his head to look at her.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ He moved his head from side to side on the pillow and yawned. ‘I haven’t seen you in ages,’ he said, pulling the duvet back and propping himself up on his elbow. ‘You just sort of vanished some time back and since then I’ve been living with the other Kate.’

  ‘I did?’

  He nodded with mock seriousness. ‘Where did you go?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Where do you go when you vanish like that?’ He leant down and kissed her suddenly.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said again, running her hand over his chest. She looked up at him. ‘What do you dowhen I vanish like that?’

  ‘I waitand hope that each time you come back to me, you stay a little longer.’

  He brushed her hair from her face and ran his finger round the edges of it.

  After a while, she said, ‘Do you ever get scared that I won’t come back?’

  ‘I get scared that…’ He paused. ‘I get scared. But in the end you always come back.’

  ‘What if I don’t?’ she insisted. ‘What if one time…I just don’t.’

  ‘You will.’

  ‘What if I vanish and never come back?’

  This time there was no response; they just stared at each other in silence.

  ‘What ifwhat if you stop caring whether I come back or not?’ She could hear the panic in her voice now and her hands were on the top of his arms. ‘What if you decide that you’ve had enough?’

  ‘I won’t.’

  ‘What if I’m just all wrong for you?’

  He sighed. ‘I don’t know the answer to that any more, Kate.’ He broke off, putting his hand on her forehead. ‘You’ve got a temperatureyou’re shaking.’

  ‘It’s all the rain today. I don’t care. Robert…’

  She hadn’t sought comfort like this for a lot of years. She hadn’t let him comfort her for even longer; she hadn’t admitted to needing his comfort for even longer than that; and they hadn’t made lovemade love properlyfor even longer than that again. An absurd thought passed briefly through her mindthis was the last time they were ever going to make lovethen it passed.

  Afterwards he started to fall asleep on top of her, and was pushed gently off.

  She felt for his hand under the duvet and kept hold of it, squeezing tightly until at last her grip loosened, her breathing changed and she fell into a deep sleep.

  MAY

  Chapter 26

  Robert walked into the kitchen and there was Kate in a pair of Marigolds, scrubbing furiously at something on the fridge door.

  There were eight cakes, all different sizes, lined up along the bench.

  Then he noticed the flashcards. Everything in the kitchen that could be labelled, was labelled.

  ‘Kate?’

  Kate stood up straight and stared at him, distant. She followed his eyes round the room. ‘Ohyeah, I did that just now. Findlay needs to improve on his word recognition.’ She went back to the FRIDGE door, mumbling, ‘Fucking thing won’t come out.’

  ‘How did you sleep?’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘Bad dreams?’

  She shrugged, and carried on scrubbing.

  ‘What time were you up?’

  ‘I don’t know…four?’

  ‘Four?’

  ‘I told youI couldn’t sleep.’

  ‘So, what have you been doing since four?’

  ‘Baking. Cakes.’

  His eyes ran nervously over the line-up on the bench again.

  ‘It’s for the street partyI have to start now. I’m meant to be supplying the entire stall’s worth in less than six weeks.’

  He got himself a bowl of cereal and stood eating it, watching her. From the lounge, he heard Findlay and Margery arguing.

  ‘Here,’ he said, picking a cloth out of the SINK, ‘Let me have a go.’

  Frustrated, Kate went into the lounge to see what all the noise was about.

  There was nothing on the FRIDGE door apart from an early morning patch of sunlight. Robert stared at it for a while then followed Kate through to the lounge.

  ‘Did it come off?’ she said.

  He nodded, ‘You okay, Finn?’

  Findlay nodded morosely.

  ‘He’s bleeding all over the sofa…’

  ‘I said it doesn’t matter,’ Kate said.

  ‘It’s his eczema,’ Margery carried on. ‘He sits there picking at it, then it bleeds. If he put the cream on, it would stop itching.’

  ‘The cream stings me.’

  ‘It’s that Spiderman suitI told you it would bring on his eczema.’

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ Robert said.

  ‘At least you’ve got somewhere else to go to,’ Kate called out after him.

  Ignoring this, he left the house, banging the DOOR shut behind him.

  She listened to him leave the house then went into the kitchen, trying to remember what she’d gone in there for. She went over to the WINDOW, looking out at the tattered leaves of a date palm planted by the previous owners of No. 22 Prendergast Road. She hated the date palm; hated the entire garden, in fact.

  A bumblebee grazed the WINDOW, trying to get in.

  Then the phone started to ring.

  ‘Kate? Kateyou are a dark horse.’ Evie’s voice came jabbering down the line accompanied by low, rapid breathing. ‘Putting your house on the market and not saying anything to anybody.’

  Evie’s was the first of many phone calls Kate had been anticipating that morning. ‘I know,’ she said.

  ‘But you haven’t said anything—’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘To anybody—’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Not a thing.’

  ‘I knowI know.’ Kate coughed.

  ‘SoWHAT’S GOING ON?’

  ‘Well, we’re thinking of moving.’

  ‘Thinking? Your house is on the market.’

  ‘Well, we’ve seen this place…’ Kate paused. ‘Near Lot in France?’ She’d been rehearsing this all weekend, but Evie was the first person she’d actually tried it out on.

  ‘You’re emigrating?’ Evie screamed.

  ‘Not emigratingit would be more of a second home. Robert gets so much holiday being a teacher…’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, we were thinking of downscaling here in Londonreleasing a bit of capital and putting it towards a second home.’

  ‘But why didn’t you say?’

  ‘I don’t knowwe’ve only just started talking about it to each other. It still seems strange.’

  ‘Well, Ros phoned me—’

  ‘How did Ros find out about it?’

  ‘She saw it on the Internet and whoever took the pictures has made it look HUGE…’ Evie broke off.

  ‘Why didn’t Ros phone me?’

  ‘I’m not meant to say anything, but Ros has just put her house on the market as well. What’s going on with everybody?’

  ‘Ros has?’ Kate didn’t know what to say.

  ‘With Foxtons. They reckon they can get over eight hundred and twenty-five thousand for it.’ When Kate didn’t respond to this, Evie said, ‘Soyou’re not leaving us altogether, then? I mean, you’re looking locally.’

  ‘Locally?’

  ‘Because o
f school?’

  ‘School?’ Kate tried not to panic. Did Evie know?

  ‘You don’t want to lose Findlay’s place at St Anthony’s.’

  ‘No, I’ve been looking in the catchment areaat that place on Beulah Hill, actually.’

  ‘Beulah Hill? Well, you’ll need to start lookingyours will go in no time, Kate. I had a friend on Derwent Street who put hers on the market on a Friday morning; by the afternoon she had three offers and it went out to bids. She got sixty more than the asking.’

  Kate didn’t respond to this; she was too busy wondering why Ros had phoned Evierather than herwhen she saw the house on the Internet.

  ‘Have you had anybody round yet?’

  ‘We’ve got some people coming this afternoon.’

  ‘Well, keep me updated, and listenanother reason I phoned is…I’m having a chickenpox party. I’ve been stuck in for four days and now Ingrid’s gone and got it, which means more quarantine…. I’m going completely bloody stir crazy. Come on, Kate, everybody’s coming. I’ve made gallons of Pimms…I mean, it’s not like we haven’t done our bit lately.’

  The primary reason for the chickenpox party wasn’t in fact chickenpox. Chickenpox was the excuse to gather together as large an audience as possible in order to break the news that Aggie had been diagnosed dyspraxic.

  ‘But Jessica’s taking Findlay and Margery down to the coast with her todayand Flo hasn’t got chickenpox.’

  ‘Well, it’s much better if they have it youngmy mother put me in the bath with my sister when she had it.’ Evie broke off. ‘God, is Margery still there? How many weeks is it now?’

  ‘Don’t talk about it.’

  ‘Well, Jessica owes you: you’re forever having Arthur for her.’

  The idea that Jessica was abusing Kate’s generosity was a very popular one among PRC members.

  In the lounge, Findlay and Margery were still arguing.

  She went through the back door and up the side passage into the garden, drawing level with the back of the house, where a Hydrangea petiolaris she’d been told would do amazing things to her north-facing wall was struggling to take hold.

  The garden was devoid of life, but at least Margery wasn’t there.

  She stood staring at the balding lawn Findlay wasn’t allowed to play football on that culminated, beyond the eucalyptus and date palm, in a shed they’d lost the key to, and a climbing frame with a tent on the top that local cats urinated in. Before they’d moved to No. 22, they’d talked about how Findlay would at last have somewhere to play; how they’d be able to barbecue. But when they’d moved in, the garden had seemed much smaller than they’d remembered from the two viewings. After one broken window and countless balls over neighbours’ fences, they’d decided to prohibit ball games. Robert had admitted that he found barbecues depressing; that the last thing he felt like doing at the weekend was barbecuing meat for semi-strangers.