‘Yeah, of course. Why?’ I forced myself to sound normal.
‘Well, it’s just that I was in town earlier… Seán and I were going to go for breakfast in O’Hanlon’s and well… eh… well, I saw JP. He… uhm…’ She paused to choose her words. ‘He wasn’t alone, Sarah…’
I felt as though the wasp had returned and was now stinging my whole body all over. I couldn’t speak. Blood rushed into my ears and they began ringing loudly.
‘Sarah, are you still there? Sarah?’
‘I’m here,’ I said in a small voice that didn’t sound like my own. ‘Who was he with?’ I knew that whatever Fiona said next would change the course of my life.
‘A woman – well, “woman” is stretching it. She was no more than a girl really. About twenty-six or seven maybe? A wispy blonde thing… plastered in make-up and tan – you know the sort…’ She paused and lowered her voice before adding the killer punch. ‘It didn’t look platonic.’
The wasps were swarming all around me now, chasing me down in a blur of black and yellow.
‘Did you go over to them?’ I asked.
‘No! I think I was too shocked. Even though we had just walked into the café, we turned and left straight away. I didn’t want him to see us – I don’t know why… Should I have said something? I was just caught off guard. What’s going on, Sarah?’
‘JP left us yesterday.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘He left us, well, me really…’ The words seemed to be spilling out of my mouth as if it was somebody else saying them. ‘He said that he wasn’t in love with me any more. That he hasn’t been for a long time now.’
Fiona took a sharp intake of breath; I could hear it whistle between her teeth. ‘I’m coming over there right this minute.’
6
A little while later, I heard the doorbell going downstairs and I knew it was Fiona. I could hear the children answering it and telling her I was upstairs. After her phone-call, I had gone up to my room so that the kids wouldn’t see me crying. Sure enough, her footsteps came treading up the stairs and, moments later, there was a soft knock on my bedroom door.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Fiona said, coming into the room in a flurry of colourful scarves and sitting on the side of the bed, throwing her arms around me.
Fiona worked as a freelance graphic designer. She had been given all the creative genes, whereas I couldn’t even draw a straight line. She had taken a circuitous route through life: she had attended art college, then dropped out and gone travelling; whereas I was the diligent, straight-laced, studious sister who had gone straight from school to study economics at university, where I had met JP, we had married, finally had our babies and I had decided to stay at home with them. While Fiona was spontaneous, I was a people-pleaser who played by life’s rules. That’s why it was so hard to accept JP leaving because it wasn’t in my plan. JP had broken our rules.
‘Why didn’t you tell me? I feel awful now for telling you over the phone like that. I had hoped you would say that it was a work meeting or something and you knew all about their lunch date.’
‘Nope,’ I said, shaking my head as tears streamed down my face. ‘It was a bolt from the blue.’
‘The worst kind. Who is she? Is she someone that he works with?’
I wiped my running nose with the back of my hand. ‘Hand on heart, I have no idea. I’m guessing a work colleague, but who knows… He joined a gym recently, so maybe he met her there? Oh, God!’ I said as it suddenly dawned on me. ‘This is such a cliché!’
‘The reason clichés exist is because they’re true. Did you have any idea, any idea at all, that he might have been seeing someone else?’
I shook my head. ‘I feel like such an eejit,’ I sobbed, ‘but honestly, Fiona, I didn’t see this coming. I know we had been arguing more than usual lately, but don’t all couples have their ups and downs?’
‘What about counselling, did you suggest that?’
I shook my head. ‘I tried but he had already made up his mind – I don’t get a say, apparently.’
‘You wouldn’t throw out a washing machine that had broken down,’ she said angrily. ‘You would call out a repair person and try to get it working again. Not that I am comparing you to a washing machine – sorry, Sarah,’ she added clumsily, ‘or not that you’ve broken down… there’s nothing wrong with you… Oh, God, I’m just making this worse… you know what I’m trying to say… But if something still has good qualities and it just needs to be worked on, then you get help!’
‘So why is he throwing me out then? Maybe I have no good qualities left?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she sighed, ‘I’m not helping, am I? I just don’t know what to say.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know why he has done this, Sarah, but karma is a bitch. Now come on, get up out of that bed,’ she said. ‘Harry is surrounded by empty biscuit packets and Robyn is mainlining Skittles down there.’
‘I can’t—’
‘Yes, you can. I’ll help you.’ She sat down onto the side of the bed.
‘Can’t I just stay here? I don’t want the kids to see me like this.’
‘Come on, Sarah. I know what’s happened to you is terrible – it’s awful, I won’t pretend it isn’t – but you have to stop feeling sorry for yourself. There are two children downstairs who are depending on you.’
‘My husband left me for another woman – I think I’m allowed to feel sorry for myself!’
‘Yes, if it was just you that was involved here, I’d cut you some slack, but you have two children to think of, Sarah, two children that are also suffering. They need you now more than ever. They’ve lost their dad! You have to pull yourself together for their sake. You’re the one who has to keep the show on the road now their father has let them down. That’s what mothers do – they’re the glue that holds everything together. Now come on, get up outta that bed!’
Her words, although hard to hear, hit home and, grudgingly, I found myself pulling back the duvet and planting my two feet on the floor.
‘When did you last wash yourself?’ Fiona continued, tutting.
‘Christmas morning.’
‘Jesus wept! Right, into the shower, straight away,’ she ordered.
I didn’t even protest as she steered me by the shoulders into the bathroom.
‘I promise, you’ll feel so much better afterwards.’
‘A shower isn’t going to bring my husband back,’ I grumbled.
I just stood under the showerhead letting the water cascade around me. I didn’t have the energy to lather soap around my body.
When I was finished, I saw Fiona had left two fluffy towels and my robe to heat up
on the radiator and, as I wrapped them around me, their warmth was like a hug. I wiped away a patch of steam on the mirror and saw my face – red, blotchy and angry – looking back at me.
‘Do you feel better?’ Fiona asked when I emerged from the bathroom.
‘Not really,’ I admitted.
‘I have lunch waiting for you in the kitchen.’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘Well then, you can just have a cup of tea.’
I followed her downstairs and looked into the living room, where the kids were lying on the floor, chins resting on their hands as they watched TV. They were engrossed in the cartoon so I sat down at my kitchen table in front of a plate of bacon and avocado on toast. I was touched that she had made my favourite lunch for me, but I couldn’t stomach food and pushed the plate away.
Fiona boiled the kettle and made a pot of tea before placing it down on the table and pouring two mugs.
I reached forward and clasped the mug between my palms, embracing its warmth.
‘What kills me is how powerless I feel. That I don’t get a say in any of this. What about me? What about what I want? Isn’t marriage meant to be an equal partnership, so how can one person just decide that it’s over when the other person doesn’t want it to be over?’ I blurted.
‘I’ve no answer for that except that life is unfair, but you’re strong, Sarah. You’re much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You’ve just had one of the biggest shocks of your life, it’ll take time, but you will heal. I know you will.’
I knew she was trying to help, but I honestly couldn’t ever see myself getting over this.
‘Don’t give him any more power over you,’ she continued. ‘Those beautiful children need you.’
I looked at them through the glass panes in the door leading into the living room. ‘They are so beautiful,’ I echoed. ‘How could he leave them?’ A sob choked in my throat.
Fiona shook her head. ‘I have no answer for that, but from this second on, you’re going to keep your chin up and get on with your life. Screw him.’ She placed her hand over mine on the table and gave it a squeeze. ‘I will help you through this, okay?’
Suddenly my phone began to ring and, when I checked who it was, I saw that it was JP.
7
Three days later, I watched from the window as JP’s blue BMW coupe turned into the driveway. He was coming over to collect the kids. It was the first time they had seen him since St Stephen’s Day, the day he had left. When I had confronted him on the phone about the girl Fiona had said she had seen him with, he had let out a breathy sigh and said, ‘Her name is Megan. I’m sorry, Sarah, I never meant to hurt you—’
‘Why didn’t you just come clean and tell me?’ I had asked. My voice wasn’t angry, just sad. Sad for the lies and deceit. That was almost the worst part of it all. He wasn’t just my husband, but my best friend too, and the betrayal was so hard to bear. How could I ever trust anyone ever again if JP – the love of my life – could do that to me?
‘Look, I know I should have told you, but I didn’t want to rub salt in the wound at the time… I guess you would have found out sooner or later anyway.’
‘How did you meet?’ I don’t know why I was asking these questions, was I trying to torture myself? But I felt I needed to make sense of it all. He seemed to have detached himself from me so easily, like you would unhitch a trailer from a car, without a guilty second thought.
‘We work together.’
‘Is that where you are now? Are you staying with her?’
‘Yeah,’ he’d admitted. ‘We’re renting a flat in town.’
After I had hung up, I’d felt stupid. Mortification warmed my body, leaving me feeling sticky and wishing that I could crawl out of my own skin. How did I not realise that there was a reason he was leaving me? Of course there was. Men didn’t just walk out on a relatively happy family life for no reason. There was always a reason.
I could imagine them holed up in their love den, laughing at my innocence. You know when you hear those stories on the radio chat shows, I always used to think – they must have seen it coming, there must have been signs. And, of course, when I look back, there were signs, but I still hadn’t spotted them.
I was now tormented, wondering how long had he felt this way for? For how long had our marriage been a sham? I was thinking back over every little detail and analysing it like a forensic crash investigator would scour the roadside for clues after a bad traffic accident. I couldn’t help but think back to my last birthday when JP had surprised me by taking me out for dinner. He had arranged for Fiona to babysit. We had laughed and talked, and we had had a lovely night… or at least I had thought we had, but maybe he had been unhappy then and I just hadn’t seen it? Had Megan been on the scene at that stage? Had he sat through the dinner, wishing he was with her instead?
We had gone on holidays with the kids at their Halloween midterm break and JP had acted like a caged bear all week. At the time, I couldn’t understand why he was being so moody and tetchy and just assumed he was stressed out by work, but now his behaviour clicked into place for me.
The loneliness and the feeling of being lost was the worst part; it was not just my husband who had gone, my whole identity had been stripped away. I had been with JP for almost twenty-five years – over half my life. It was like we had fused together. I didn’t even know who I was any more.
‘Come on, get your coats and hats on, your dad is here,’ I called.
Harry didn’t need to be told twice and he ran out to the cloakroom under the stairs.
‘I’m tired, Mammy,’ Robyn said, making no effort to move from the window. ‘I’ll stay with you.’
I guessed she was a bit anxious. She wasn’t the only one, I thought wryly.
‘Aw, pet, don’t you want to see your daddy? It’ll only be for a little while. You’ll have fun.’
‘I don’t want to go.’ She shook her head.
‘You don’t have to stay for my sake, Robyn. I’ll be just fine, it’s okay for you to go with your dad, I don’t mind.’
‘But my head is owee,’ she protested.
I placed my palm on her forehead and it didn’t feel hot. ‘You don’t have a temperature…’ Was she feigning illness? This was what I didn’t want. My super-sensitive four-year-old was already feeling torn. JP had only been gone for a matter of days and already the impact on the children was devastating.
‘I said I don’t want to go!’ she shouted. Robyn’s legendary stubborn streak was rarely revealed, but when it was, she could be mulish, and I knew no amount of coaxing would get her to change her mind if she didn’t want to do something.
Harry opened the door and ran straight out to his dad, but Robyn stayed where she was.
‘Come here, Robby-Roo,’ I said, taking her hand in mine as we followed Harry out to the driveway.
Low winter sunlight bounced off the metallic paintwork of his car. It was pristine as usual. It had obviously just been through the car wash. I couldn’t even wash my hair, but not even walking out on his family had stopped JP from taking care of his car, I thought bitterly. His car was his pride and joy and I had once joked that he loved the car more than me. Now I realised with searing irony how close to the bone I had been.
‘Hey, kids,’ he sang as he stepped out of the car, almost as if he was just returning home from a day at work. I noticed that he was wearing a leather bomber jacket that looked as though it belonged on somebody twenty years younger than him. I was so used to seeing him in his work suits during the week, or in chinos with a polo shirt when he was being more casual at the weekends. Although he was still an attractive man, his black hair had started to grey ever so slightly around the temples, so the jacket looked bizarre on him.
‘Hi, Dad!’ Harry ran forward and jumped on him.
‘Hi, Robyn,’ JP called, but she just buried her face into my hip. ‘Robyn, aren’t you happy to see me?’ he asked. He came over towards us and reached out his arms to take her from me, but she just clung tighter to my hand.
‘I don’t want to go,’ she said, shaking her head.
‘Come on now, Robyn,’ he coaxed. ‘I thought we’d grab a pizza at Paccini’s, how about that?’ Paccini’s was a long-established family-friendly restaurant. The kids loved it because the waiters gave them mini chef’s hats and aprons and they let them roll their own dough and add their own toppings.
‘No, I’m too tired.’ She shook her head.
‘Go on, Robby-Roo, it’ll be fun,’ I tried. I couldn’t believe she was passing on the opportunity to go to Paccini’s. The thing was, despite everything that had happened, I really wanted Harry and Robyn to see their dad; I didn’t want them thinking that any of this was their fault. I wanted some kind of ‘normality’ for them in this horrible situation.
‘I said no!’ she shouted, causing me to step back in shock. It was so uncharacteristic for her to behave like this. I guessed she was angry, and this was her way of expressing it.
‘She has been saying she isn’t feeling well. I hope she’s not coming down with something…’ I said, defending her. Robyn was dogged when she made her mind up. It was a trait I usually admired, except when I was on the receiving end.
JP crouched down in front of her, but she pushed him away. He s
tood up again and irritation flashed in his eyes.
‘Right, come on, Harry, let’s go,’ he said, getting back into the car.
When JP dropped Harry home after eight, he rang the bell and wordlessly handed our son to me before walking back to his car. Fifteen years of marriage, twenty-five years together, two kids, and this was what we were reduced to, I thought as he reversed out of the driveway.
‘Did you have a nice time, Harry?’ I forced myself to sound bright. I knew this was my biggest test as a mother – a test I had never thought I would have to face until it landed on my doorstep. I needed to paint this situation in as positive a light as I could manage so that my children wouldn’t become casualties in this mess.
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘It was all right. Where’s Robyn? I brought her home some pizza,’ he said, handing me a takeout box.
‘You’re so thoughtful. She’s already in bed though.’
Robyn had asked to go to bed soon after Harry left, which was strange because she never willingly went to bed. When I had asked which story she wanted me to read, she had said that she just wanted to go straight to sleep. She was definitely coming down with something, I had thought as I tucked her up with Mr Bunny. She had fallen asleep before I had even left the room.
‘So, did you have a good time?’ I pressed.
‘Yeah…’
‘What’s wrong, Harry?’ He wasn’t meeting my eyes and I got the sense there was something he wanted to tell me but wasn’t sure if he should. ‘Is there something worrying you?’
‘Dad has a new girlfriend,’ he said as tears pooled in his eyes.
I felt myself freeze. Damn it anyway! I hadn’t told the children about her yet. I wasn’t sure when I should do it; they were only just getting their heads around the fact that JP had left. I wanted to let them adjust to that blow first before heaping more hurt onto them, but apparently JP didn’t feel the same way. Could he not have waited until Harry had got over the shock of him leaving? He should have discussed it with me first. This was too much for a nine-year-old to process.
The Last Days of Us Page 4
