Can I Give My Husband Back?: A totally laugh out loud and uplifting page turner

by Kristen Bailey

‘Yep. Grin and clench, girl,’ Beth says.

  I see the girls skip up the stairs and knock the door loudly. Iris’ voice echoes down the letterbox.

  ‘We’re home!’ I like that they still call this place their home. I answer it and the girls fall into my arms. They see Aunty Beth and go in to coo at their cousin. Simon stands there holding several bags, coats and what looks like a school sports kit he’s expecting me to launder. The changeover period would be a lot easier if he just stuffed everything in one giant shopping bag but the joy of divorce is that I don’t need to lecture him about his lack of domestic organisation.

  ‘You had a baby?’ he gestures to Beth.

  ‘I did.’ Beth is not Lucy or Meg, she’s more civil to Simon but that’s just her, she wouldn’t say boo to a goose.

  ‘Congratulations.’

  His mother stands behind him, as if Simon is shielding her.

  ‘Linda, it’s been a while. Happy birthday.’

  She barges past her son and embraces me tightly. ‘Emma, you look well, really well.’ I’m a little unnerved by the warm welcome but to be fair, this woman has always been nice to me. She’s a good grandparent and I don’t bear her ill will. But she looks like she wants to say something out loud. I need to gloss over this awkward silence.

  ‘Did you have a nice meal?’

  Violet skips up to me. ‘We went for Chinese food. I ate four spring rolls.’

  ‘Did you? That’s exciting. Did Granny Linda have a birthday cake too?’

  ‘Susie made a chocolate one.’

  I smile to myself. Linda wouldn’t have appreciated the cake or the Chinese either, she’s a food xenophobe which drives Simon crazy but it made her easy to cook for. Roast dinners and sausage and mash all the way. I am strangely calm that Susie was there but the mention of her name seems to get Linda’s heckles up.

  ‘That is a bonny baby. Are you Meg?’

  Beth looks concerned that she’s been confused for a sister six years her senior.

  ‘I’m Beth. Nice to see you again, Mrs Chadwick. I think the last time was Violet’s christening?’

  Linda nods and turns to my girls. ‘Now Iris, Violet… come and give your granny big hugs and I’ll see you very soon.’ My daughters wrap themselves around her lower half and then head to their father.

  ‘I’ll see you next Tuesday,’ I say to Simon, still smiling that he hasn’t worked it out yet.

  ‘Bye sweeties,’ he says. They bundle themselves over into their father’s arms and I see him close his eyes at saying goodbye. It may be the only time I ever see him express any form of tenderness but I never doubt its sincerity. Beth senses there is a conversation to follow and ushers the children through to the living room.

  ‘I need to ask you a question, Emma,’ says Linda. ‘Have you met Susie?’

  ‘Not officially.’

  ‘And what about young—’

  Simon interrupts. ‘Mum, we really must be going.’

  She looks shocked to have been interrupted.

  ‘Oliver? I haven’t met him either,’ I say.

  Linda appears startled that I know who he is. ‘I met him today,’ she says, aggrieved.

  I look over at Simon. I can get why he didn’t tell me but he didn’t tell his own mother that she had another grandchild? That boy is four years old. Four years of life that she’s missed out on. So he decided to wheel him out on Linda’s birthday? Maybe he forgot to buy her a present.

  ‘Are you implying that I should have told you?’ I ask Linda, given that she’s chosen to air her annoyance with me.

  ‘No, I wanted to apologise to you in person.’

  Simon shakes his head. ‘Mum…’

  She puts a finger up to him. ‘You deserved better. I am sorry my son treated you so despicably.’

  I freeze. Simon doesn’t reply, turning and walking back to his car, the anger fuming off him. Linda must have been sat in a restaurant not of her choosing, being force-fed crispy duck, pancakes and revelations. Topped off with a birthday cake without marzipan. This is my girlfriend, she is pregnant and this is my son who was born when I was still married to my ex-wife. She would have sat there, trying to work out the timelines and unravel all his lies. Happy birthday, Mum.

  ‘Linda, I don’t know what to say. You didn’t have to say that at all…’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Do you want to come in for a cup of tea?’

  Simon starts the engine of his car. She turns to glare at him.

  ‘Maybe another time?’

  ‘Do you still have my number? You can ring me any time you want.’

  She nods, takes a deep breath and heads to the car. If he drives off now and leaves his own mother here then I will throw a brick through his window. I stand at the door and watch as Simon shouts at her as she enters the car and she replies with equal force and volume. He speeds off. I run into the living room where Joe is lying on a rug and Iris blows raspberries on to his stomach. Beth stands at the window looking concerned.

  ‘Did you really go for a Chinese?’

  Iris nods. ‘I ate a whole plate of crispy seaweed, it all got stuck in my teeth.’

  ‘Was it alright? With everyone there?’

  Iris shrugs. ‘I guess. Oliver was there too. Apparently, we need to call him our brother now…’ Beth looks at me with wide eyes. ‘…which is weird because he’s Susie’s son and Susie is just Daddy’s friend. Susie’s pregnant as well, she’s going to have a baby soon, Aunty Beth. But he won’t be as cute as Joe,’ Iris continues.

  I pause for a moment to register this. This unborn baby is another boy. My girls have no idea about the parentage of these children. I have to ask. I take a deep breath.

  ‘Who is Oliver’s daddy?’

  Violet looks up at me. ‘We haven’t met him yet.’

  Beth looks over at me. All this drama, all these lies and loose threads. I have no idea what to do so I hold Violet close to me and watch as Joe’s giggles fill the air. I should tell them. I don’t want these girls to be fed the same lies that I have been. I want them to be raised with at least a modicum of honesty from my end. But maybe not now.

  ‘Who wants to go watch Aunty Lucy be Elsa?’ I say.

  Everyone throws their hands up in the air.

  What is the collective noun for a group of Elsas? I feel it should be snow-based: a flurry or an avalanche? I’ve never seen so much peroxide hair in one place. They all come in a variety of shapes, sizes, ages and heights. One looks like she’s wearing a bejewelled net curtain and another has her own dry ice. We can’t see Lucy but Joe is asleep in his pram and the girls are content in this play area that has face painters and soft play. Beth and I perch on a bench, slightly out of breath, truth be told, from having to carry the pram up and down flights of stairs on the Tube. We cradle overpriced hot chocolates and she rests her head on my shoulder.

  ‘Is this my life now? Events like these?’ she ponders, as we watch a dad walk past with his tantrumming son in a fireman’s hold. Beth does this a lot, comparing her baby life to the one she had before. Before Joe, she and Will would have been in this park at a gig, getting drunk and trading in hot beverages for cans of BrewDog.

  ‘Kinda.’

  ‘How bleak.’

  ‘Charming.’

  ‘How do you do it?’

  ‘Always have change, baby wipes and then just fill them with sugar so they have enough energy to keep going.’

  She laughs. A girl walks past with a giant cuddly Sven the reindeer that’s bigger than her, the dusty pink glow of candy floss around her lips. Next to us, children charge around a light blue bouncy castle like they’re maniacs in a padded cell.

  ‘And avoid bouncy castles and trampolines. Our pelvic floors are not what they were. Meg once had to leave a barbeque because she peed herself on a trampoline. I didn’t tell you that.’

  She giggles. ‘How are you about what happened earlier?’

  ‘I have no idea. Those girls need to know who Susie is. But he’s leaving
me to have that conversation with them and that’s not fair.’

  Beth seems surprised. ‘Good for you. Let him do his own dirty work. Do you think Linda is alright?’

  ‘Who knows?’ I have a fleeting moment thinking of them fighting in that car. I hope he wasn’t a complete shit to her. ‘And Will, how are things with Will?’

  She takes a big sip of her hot chocolate and stares intently at Joe.

  ‘He’s still living with his brother.’

  ‘And he’s left you with Joe. I still don’t think that’s very fair.’

  She pauses for a moment. ‘It’s more than that, Ems. He’s really been suffering.’

  I open my eyes in disbelief at the suggestion.

  ‘I don’t know. I think we talk about how hard motherhood is but actually with the pressure of being a father and the long hours at work, he’s not been coping. He felt like he was failing us.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘We live in a two bedroom flat. It’s London prices and job competition. I think we both thought this would be different. We’d be Instacool in matching clothes and have our shit together.’

  ‘You do have your shit together.’

  She gives me a look like I may be sugar coating the issue.

  ‘You mean I look like shit, sis. I eat literally everything. I’ve gone up two dress sizes. I have no idea when and if I am going back to work. I don’t even know if Joe likes me or not.’

  ‘Of course he likes you. You’re his mother.’

  ‘Do you like our mother?’ she asks.

  ‘Are you nagging him about his life choices with rude and cutting remarks?’

  She narrows her eyes at my sarcasm. Joe stirs. He smiles when he sees Beth.

  ‘See? He does like you.’ I don’t add that I think that was just wind.

  She pulls a face at him and digs through a change bag. It’s a big mess of receipts, half-eaten snacks, toys and odd-sized nappies. It’s like her school bag from her teenage years. She does have dark circles under her eyes, and her hair might not have been washed in a few days but you only have to look at the baby to see how happy and loved he is.

  ‘So, what are you going to do?’

  ‘Give Will some time, space to sort his head. It’s all I can do really?’

  I grip Beth’s hand tightly. Most wouldn’t have the faith or patience but maybe that’s what separates her from the pack; she is quietly sensitive and places such value on loyalty to those she loves.

  ‘Can I say something, B?’

  She nods, using her sleeve to wipe at Joe’s mouth when she can’t find a muslin.

  ‘At your party, the last thing Will said to me before he left was how much he loved you and Joe. I don’t think he’s a bad person. He’s not a Simon at least.’

  Beth looks at me. As the other sisters have been less kindly about Will’s abandonment, it’s as if she’s waiting for the punch line.

  ‘Give him until Christmas. But promise me you won’t let him mess around with your feelings. This is about you, too. Let what I went through be an example to you, at least. Don’t be a martyr for something not worth your salt.’

  She throws an arm around me. ‘Christmas. I promise. But I mean, look at you now. Even after all you went through, you have Jag? You never told us how that wedding went?’

  I sip my hot chocolate so I don’t have to answer.

  ‘Lucy said you came home without your shoes on which is code for saying you slept with him and had to depart quietly so you wouldn’t wake him.’

  She’s trying to goad me into revealing some details and I look over at her doleful expression. Joe was lucky to inherent her twinkling cat eyes. I almost feel a need to divulge so she doesn’t feel like the odd sister out.

  ‘I took my shoes off because they hurt,’ I reply. ‘And you’re right, I didn’t want to make a sound because I’d just caught Jag snogging his ex-girlfriend outside the wedding in a corridor.’

  She cups her hands to her mouth. ‘Oh Ems, why didn’t you say?’

  Because I didn’t want to take that bath of shame again. Look at Emma, swan diving into new love dressed in an actual sari. And there she, is belly flopping into the depths yet again.

  ‘I was humiliated… again. I went to a lot of trouble. I let his niece throw up on me. It felt special and then just like that, a punch to the gut.’

  Beth grimaces. ‘I’m sorry he wasn’t who you thought he might be.’

  I shrug my shoulders. ‘Meh, he was younger than me, too trendy. Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe I am the worst judge of character in the world.’

  ‘Bullshit. You’re great. His loss completely.’

  ‘Back to being a single Pringle,’ I say.

  ‘Single Pringles together.’

  We look into the distance and I let her rest her head on my shoulder as Joe watches us curiously. I have visions of sitting on the stairs at our family home, one step from the bottom and helping her do her laces. I’m here, sis. Whatever happens. This is when it pays to be the older sister. I think back to when Meg was worrying that her problems with Danny and her marriage were irreparable. I told her if that were the case, she could move back down south and I’d buy us a big mansion for us to all live together in like some sitcom family. Or convert my loft. I think about all the wine we could drink, the epic fights we would have over moisturiser and all our kids eating spaghetti around my dining table. Even though it’s a got a cult commune feel to it, I don’t think I’d mind.

  In front of our bench, an Elsa walks past. Her dress is so sheer that she’s unaware that all and sundry can see a black thong showing through. A voice booms through the PA above a stage in front of us. Small children run towards the front and my daughters filter back towards us. Violet’s face is completely covered in silver glitter that will stick to my bathtub for days. Which of you Elsas are responsible for this? I will hunt you down.

  ‘Are you ready, Dukes Meadow?!’

  Beth and I look at each other in bemusement.

  ‘Our finalists today have come from all over London for our Frozen Fiesta. They will be marked on costume, hair, song and dance. Won’t you give them your warmest applause?’

  My girls – who have already had hot chocolates, sweet cones and mini doughnuts – dance around and scream, a little deranged. Beth looks at them, confused. Dear sister, you thought teething and exploding nappies was bad; you have the next stage to look forward to.

  ‘And our first Elsa today is Nadia and she is from Sutton.’

  Beth and I clap as a girl skips on and throws handfuls of glitter over the stage. Nice try but her dress is completely the wrong colour. The second Elsa is obviously wearing a bad wig and number three is thong Elsa. The dads seem appreciative of her.

  ‘And next we have Lucy from Richmond.’

  My girls stand on the bench to get a better view and we cheer manically. Beth whistles. Lucy seems to have a partner. Oh, it’s Darren from the party dressed as Olaf. I hope his rash cleared up. She pretends to pull his nose off and there’s a cute role-play thing going on that makes everyone laugh. She does know how to work a crowd, eh? I chuckle under my breath and take some photos for the sister group chat. My daughters are entranced. I save lives, kids. I can take an appendix out or insert a chest tube if needed but it means nothing. Violet looks like she could explode from the pride at seeing her aunty up there. Lucy pirouettes and the chiffon of her dress swirls on the stage. Beth and I ‘oooooh’ in reply. She takes her leave stage right.

  ‘Isn’t that Britney Spears from the party?’ Beth asks.

  ‘Yes. And between you and me, I think he has a little crush on our sister.’

  Beth and I look at each other and smile. Good luck with that Olaf.

  ‘She has a flair for the dramatic, our sister… eh?’ I say.

  ‘But she does it so well. Where are the Annas?’

  I look around. She’s right. There are men as reindeer and in traditional looking Nordic outfits but no Anna, the other, arguably better, sister in
that film.

  ‘You mean the forgotten sister who’s plucky and full of goodness but takes a back seat so her other sister can do cool things with the snow?’ I say with wide eyes. Beth laughs heartily and buries her head into me again.

  Now it’s Elsa singing time. They’ve brought out thong Elsa and I know now why she’s wearing a thong: to take away from the fact she sings like a deaf crow. Let it go, love.

  ‘Oh, Emma? Fancy seeing you here?’ I turn and next to me is Leo.

  ‘Leo?’ I go to kiss his cheek. ‘You know Beth…’

  He waves. The last time Beth saw Leo was as randy Batman so she looks upon him curiously.

  ‘Lucy mentioned this at the school gate so I thought I’d bring the kids. She’s definitely top three, right?’

  ‘You haven’t seen her dance yet,’ Beth says.

  ‘No, but she looks great and she has an Olaf.’

  ‘But the one at the end with the dodgy plait has silly string shooters coming out of her hands. Marks for innovation?’

  I’m not entirely sure why Leo is here but I like the effect Lucy has had on him. He seems more relaxed, like he may be enjoying life again. In the back of my mind, I know this probably means they’re still shagging but I won’t bring it up now.

  Lucy steps forward to the microphone. Can Lucy hold a tune? Yes, but when you’ve heard someone holding a tune for most of your life, the novelty wears off. She’s doing her drama school thing where she’s over-enunciating all her vowels. Don’t overdo it, Lucy. Leo watches in awe. She finishes and does a flourish of a bow and looks over at us, breaking character with a manic thumbs up. However, as she turns she slips on what looks like a bit of silly string that came from the Elsa with the shooter hands. She falls clumsily on Olaf, her skirt up over her head. And if you thought thong Elsa was bad then you were mistaken. Because this Elsa is not wearing any knickers. None at all. Complete nether regions on show.

  The crowd gasp. Those dads who were here for thong Elsa shift their attentions elsewhere. Beth and I look at each other, neither shocked nor horrified. And just when you thought that was it, Lucy gets up and has a go at the Elsa with the silly string. Olaf tries to get in the middle but because his costume is bulky, he manoeuvres like a sumo wrestler into Elsa in the wig. The wig goes flying. Another Elsa who’s obviously wearing something from a cheap supermarket range breaks down into tears. I’m not sure who throws the first punch after that but I sit quietly watching it unfold, children crying, parents shouting obscenities on to the stage, the whine and crackle of a microphone getting kicked across the stage, a mist of glitter and fake snow in the air. Beth puts her head on my shoulder and we watch Lucy pull someone’s wig off and wave it in the air.