A Different Kind of Happy

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A Different Kind of Happy Page 18

by Rachaele Hambleton


  I handed Pat the thick black file and felt the anxiety whir in my tummy, but I know I need to know, and at least she can be there to hold my hand through the bad bits.

  Friday

  Friday the thirteenth today … It certainly felt like that when I answered the landline at 7.24am and it was Lou’s husband.

  ‘David,’ I said when I heard his voice. I wanted to bite the handset in rage and vomit at the same time, but instead I decided to kill him with kindness to throw him off any scent and keep Lou as safe as I possibly could.

  He was calling to tell me the damage had now been assessed and the builders were in the café. They were hoping to re-open in ten days’ time – bang on the start of the six-week holiday – ideal.

  I asked how Lou’s migraines were and he told me much better. He went on to inform me he was taking them to Devon for the weekend as she ‘needed a break’.

  I wanted to say, ‘Yes – a permanent one from you, you fucking psychopath.’ Instead I told him that is probably just what she needs, to have a lovely weekend and I would look forward to returning to work. When I hung up, it confirmed all my fears. This guy was a total charmer … how would anyone ever believe Lou was a beaten wife?

  I got a call around 11am from Jaclyn. She didn’t shout, or rant, surprisingly. Instead she did an amazing job of speaking down to me. She acted like I was something she had just scraped off the bottom of her shoe – which came as no surprise but all the same conflict wasn’t something that sat well with me. I said to her that Molly had tried to call her and we assumed it wouldn’t be an issue but if it was I was happy to drop her home immediately.

  I think Jaclyn was expecting me to argue with her or go back with a negative response, but the reality was I didn’t have the energy. I didn’t have an understanding of some things Jaclyn did as her mum. And who am I to judge with how things are with our family? I feel sorry for Molly and I enjoy having her around, but ultimately she is a child and Jaclyn is her mum, which I said out loud to Jaclyn on the phone. Surprisingly, she really changed her tune, she sounded upset but like she was trying to hide it from me. I asked her if she was OK and told her I have issues going on with our kids so I would never judge. She assured me she was fine and said she would speak to the school about Molly’s return. She agreed that Molly could stay with us until she was back but asked she was not out past 9pm, or further than the beach at anytime. Before I could agree to her rules she said ‘I know I may seem crazy, Jo, but I promise there are reasons for this’ and my heart hurt for her, because even though I had no idea what they were, I knew there was something going on.

  Sunday

  I come down the stairs on Sunday morning to see Jamie standing at the kitchen sink, doing last night’s washing up. I find myself constantly loving him; putting my hands up the back of his T-shirt and wrapping my arms round his warm torso. Standing on my tiptoes to bury my nose into his neck from behind and just generally being more appreciative of him. The father he is, the loving son and amazing partner. I feel safe when I am with him, he’s such a steady presence, but I imagine he couldn’t say the same about me right now and I’m sure he’s wondering what’s going on. I know that I should have told him everything by now – this is an open and honest household – but I swore to Lou that I’d keep her secret and then I just kept quiet about everything through fear of saying the wrong thing. I also feel like talking about it would only make me feel better, and wouldn’t actually help anyone else so why cause Jamie additional stress? I feel lucky to have him. I’ve spent the last week faced with so many realities of the bad people we have in this world that I feel so happy I have a good one.

  Molly went home a few days ago. Jaclyn collected her while I was out doing a shop. Pat said she was pleasant when she arrived, she also apologised for how she had spoken to Pat the night Molly went out. I asked Pat what she said and she said she had a chat with her and thinks she made things feel better for her. Molly texted Belle yesterday to say she was going shopping with her mum, so fingers crossed things are better for both of them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Out of the Mouths of Babes

  Thursday

  Belle and Molly have been going straight to the beach from school and getting back around 7–8pm. They stay together most nights and Belle stayed there on Monday this week. She said they got Chinese and watched Netflix in the lounge. Jaclyn was there, Belle said she was working next door in the office but she kept popping her head in to ask if they needed anything. My opinion of her is quickly changing and I feel like a cow for misunderstanding her so badly.

  I’ve asked Belle if her and Jacob are boyfriend and girlfriend as he’s been down the beach with the girls most afternoons too – to which she bit my head off and informed me this wasn’t how it was done any more. I asked her to explain how it was done now and she awkwardly just said they were ‘getting close’. When I tried to understand this a bit more and queried who decided ‘when’ or ‘if’ they want to become boyfriend and girlfriend, she bit my head off again and told me to ‘stop being gross’.

  I was going to go down the route of contraception and being safe. She is only fifteen, but I know I can’t bury my head in the sand – better safe than sorry. I didn’t feel emotionally ready for the chat, though, and she would probably cringe so much she would vomit, so I called Megan and left her a message to call me back. Maybe she could get some more answers from Jacob about what was going on – highly doubtful though. Parenting teens, I’ve come to understand, is a total minefield.

  The kids broke up for the six-week holiday. Pat is going home tomorrow for a month then returning to help us with childcare as I’m back to work for the last two weeks in August. I’m supposed to be doing three days when the café re-opens as there is an air show on locally so it will be heaving and Lou has asked me to help. I want to go in anyway; I’m hoping she will be there, and we will get the chance to talk about everything. My mind is still so busy with it all. I feel so many emotions and it isn’t even happening to me.

  Friday

  I dropped Pat and Digby at the train station early this morning. Rex and Ruby came with me while the others were still sleeping. Just before she got on the train, Pat turned to me and said, ‘I’ve read the adoption papers, Jo, and I want you to think long and hard about whether it’s something that you want to visit right now. Some parts of it are going to have a huge effect on you and once it’s done, you can’t undo it,’ she told me. It felt like I’d been winded – and it made me never want to read them and feel desperate to read them all at once. I took a deep breath and said ‘I know, and I am considering it. There’s just so much going on right now and I don’t have enough brain space to process it all. I’ll give it some thought over the next month and hopefully by the time you come back, I’ll see things a bit more clearly.’

  We had a group hug with Rex and Ruby and then I squeezed in one of my own before watching Pat climb aboard the train and move through the carriage looking for her seat. We waved until the train was out of sight. I swallowed away the hard painful lump in my throat, squeezed both the kids’ hands and skipped back to the car park to make them giggle, then we headed for home.

  The drive back to the house, with the kids being unusually quiet, gave me time to ponder. To be honest, knowing that Pat knew the truth about my adoption and wasn’t yelling at me to not open that can of worms made me want to go home and read the papers straight away – but I know that at this moment in time, with everything I have going on, I don’t need to be adding any more stress, upset and pressure by looking into why I was adopted. I decided I would look, but in the future one day, when things were calmer, when Pat returns, and is there to help me get my head around things.

  Jamie brought home some paperwork tonight from the estate agents on four houses that were for up for sale, two of which had granny flats attached. When I questioned this, he said he had spoken to his mum about moving down with us permanently and she seemed keen, depending on what I thought. I was
made up. Pat doesn’t interfere or get in the way. She also makes the kids so happy because she makes all the time in the world to do everything, from explaining impossible maths sums to teaching them how to sew or plant in the garden. They bake all the time with her and Belle is now able to make the best brownies and understands the importance of leaving the kitchen tidy afterwards, which is heaven!

  I have five children, a partner with a demanding career, a large house and a part-time job. Yes, I can manage, and I will – but ultimately if my children can be raised with the support of a loving grandmother, and if Jamie and I have her support and if she has ours – it can only be a benefit for us all.

  I called Pat immediately – she’s only been gone twelve hours! – and asked her what she genuinely thinks of the idea. Her main concern is putting stress and pressure on Jamie and I. She did mention though that she’s been thinking of getting a cottage close to us. That way she isn’t ‘under our feet’ but close enough to still help and also have some of the children at hers overnight to give us a break. I asked her how she feels about leaving Canterbury – she’s been there all her life – but she assured me there’s nothing there for her now, and her getting home tonight has made her see even more that it doesn’t feel ‘like home’ any more.

  She said that she missed the busyness of our house, and being with us made her see how much time she spends alone, and how she tries so hard to fill her days in Canterbury. Whereas, when she was with us, she didn’t need to do that. It just happens without her having to join new clubs to make friends.

  We carried on chatting for over forty minutes, about everything and nothing, and decided she will contact the estate agents up there in the morning to get the house valued and get it on the market. I told Jamie once I was off the phone and he shook his head and smirked; I could tell he was pleased, his little beam gave it away. I know he worries about his mum being so far away, as well as worrying about me coping here with so much while he is so busy at work, so for him it’s a godsend that his mum and I get on like we do, and it means life for all of us is better.

  I have spent the rest of tonight looking at houses, it feels surreal to be able to do this now and I keep thinking of Lou and how once upon a time I never thought I’d be in this position again after Mark left, so I hope, in time, she can see there could be life away from David with her boys.

  I also had a thought about approaching the landlord to buy our house now. It just feels like home, it’s safe and is a perfect size for us. The back garden is huge so we could make a second summer house for when Belle is older or just a playroom for the kids. I need to discuss it all properly with Jamie, but I’m excited about settling down in a proper home with our family around us.

  Saturday

  Today was the first time I’d had the kids all day without Pat or Jamie with us in months. I feel like we’ve really been making the most of our quality time since I’ve not been at work. Maybe it’s just because I’ve had the time to spend with them again now things have calmed down.

  We went to a local green, with a river running through it, and met with Jen and her kids, and had a picnic together. The kids paddled about and jumped in the water and there was a tree swing to play on and we took a dingy along.

  Belle brought Jacob and it was odd to see them together. I can see they’re really fond of each other and they’re forever tickling each other and messing about. She suddenly seems so grown up and the realisation kicked in that she isn’t a baby any longer. She’s now finished secondary school and is making plans on her entire future. I hope I’ve raised her well enough to cope in the big wide world but to always know her home is with me. I don’t think children ever stop being your babies, no matter how old they get.

  I’ve been thinking for a while now about possibly telling Jen about Lou, but I worry she would say something, and I couldn’t risk losing Lou’s trust. It’s so hard as I feel like I could do with the support and someone to talk to who knows Lou too, but I made her a promise and I can’t go back on that so I’ve kept it a secret.

  Ruby turned to me at lunch, apropos of nothing, and, in front of everyone, said, ‘Jo, will I ever see my mum again?’

  I didn’t know where the question came from or how best to answer it. It was asked in the same way she would have asked for a drink or a bag of crisps, no emotion and she didn’t seem upset – it was just a simple question she wanted answering.

  I felt like Jamie and I should have a script for this sort of thing but it’s never been mentioned before so I did as best as I could, and said, ‘Sweetheart, I know it’s strange to not be spending time with her right now, and you’re doing so well. I think we have to remember that even mummies and daddies become unwell sometimes, and that can mean that it’s difficult to look after their children until they’re better.’

  Ruby then asked if her mummy was in hospital. I said no, but then I thought there is no possible way I can explain to a six-year-old the difference between mental health and a broken leg, and would it be fair to try to do that?

  ‘Your mummy needs some help from people to get better, and until she gets that help you and Will are going to be staying here, living with us. We love having you here and you’re very lucky to have so many people who love you.’

  She then asked if I liked her mummy, in exactly the same way she had asked if she would see her again. I wondered what went through her tiny busy brain and I was aware Will was watching, looking as awkward as I was now feeling. I wanted to cry for her innocence and confusion – and probably because I had no clue what the future held. I told her I did like her mummy, and so did Daddy – and we all wanted her to get better.

  Her response was, ‘I like living with Daddy and you anyway.’ She then stood up, planted a kiss on my cheek and ran back to the river, where she hurled herself in the water and was soon squealing with Belle. I wished there was a way these five children could have childhoods where all four of us, as their parents, were on the same page. Where we could be civil and amicable and put their needs above anything that we felt. I hope, with everything I’ve got, that this will be the case one day.

  Sunday

  We had Megan and John over for a BBQ today with all the kids. It was really lovely. Belle stayed at Molly’s last night and they both came back here today, Jacob came too, and the three of them spent one of the hottest afternoons we’ve had watching a film indoors with the curtains closed, but the rest played outside. Jamie got a big inflatable pool, which they spent the entire afternoon in, and they overdosed on hot dogs and burgers.

  Megan and I got quite tipsy and ended up having a heart to heart. She told me John isn’t sure about trying for another baby. The grief I imagine they’ve felt over the past three months is enough to make you question ever putting yourselves through that again. She asked me if Jamie and I would ever have a baby together and I immediately answered no – life is stressful enough!

  I realised though, after she left, and now I’ve sobered up, that it’s the first time I’ve ever thought about that question. It’s not ever been something we’ve discussed, and I suppose with the issues both of us have had with our five children it’s put us off having more. I feel slightly gutted though, that we will never experience that together. Having our children together would have been something I loved, but we need to focus on what we have: five beautiful babies who need us to focus on them.

  God – maybe I’m still pissed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Pretending Everything is Fine

  Monday

  I woke up with a hangover from yesterday’s gin and my head was banging for most of the morning.

  I arrived at the café to find Lou waltzing around at the speed of lightning, putting small vases of wild flowers on each table and humming along to some weird folk music I’d never heard before.

  ‘Morning,’ she sang, as I walked through the door.

  ‘Morning,’ I replied, confused. With that, David came strutting out of the kitchen wearing an apron and hol
ding the salt and pepper pots on a tray.

  ‘Morning,’ he sang in tune, as if he was harmonising with the wife that he adored. I wanted to headbutt one of the tables in sheer disbelief as hard as I could and scream, ‘WHAT THE FUCK?!’

  Lou looked totally normal. No bruises on her face, but I did see she had long sleeves on despite it being another baking hot day. David hung around all morning like a bad smell. Under his apron he was dressed in rolled-up chinos, boat shoes and a designer white shirt, the top few buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up. If I didn’t know what he secretly was I’d have thought he looked attractive – and well dressed. Now every single thing about him repulsed me.

  Jamie arrived with the four youngest children just after midday. They came in for ice cream and when he saw David they acted like long-lost friends. Patting each other’s backs, calling each other ‘mate’ and joking away. I wanted to vomit. I felt like David was making way too much effort – clearly for Lou’s benefit.

  I was convinced I’d see through this behaviour now even if I didn’t know the truth of their situation, that I’d question his behaviours as weird, over the top, false, but the reality is I probably wouldn’t. I’d probably be stood there laughing along at the conversation, thinking he was an amazing husband and a ‘fun family guy’ just like Jamie.

  And that’s what the customers had thought for years, wasn’t it? I often overheard them telling Lou … ‘Oh, he’s so lovely; he’s so kind; isn’t he nice?’

 

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