Seeing Other People (22 page)

‘But you’re right, there have been some good birthdays.’

Penny didn’t respond and so I just sipped on my beer wondering if she was thinking about how best to ask me to leave but then as if from nowhere she asked me a question I hadn’t been expecting at all.

‘Do you think we’re good parents?’

‘Of course, I think we’re great parents. Why?’

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. I felt myself slump into the sofa. We’d had a great day. The first in what felt like forever but now she wanted to ruin it by talking about everything that had gone wrong. Unlike most separated couples I was pretty sure we were making a good fist of a bad job. We were civil to each other; always put the needs of the kids first; and refused to make each other out to be the enemy. Surely these were the things to focus on along with the fact that we were working on getting our marriage back together, not all the bad stuff.

‘I think we’re doing the best we can with a bad situation,’ I said.

‘But what about what we’re doing to the kids though?’ said Penny. ‘Jack and Rosie miss you so much it’s hard to bear. I didn’t tell you this because I couldn’t see the point but I was half an hour late picking them up from the childminder a few weeks back and Jack was in absolute hysterics. When I got to the bottom of it he said it was because he thought that I’d left him like you’d left us. I tried to correct him, Joe, I really did, but he was inconsolable. The whole thing made me feel like the worst parent in the world.’

I took Penny’s glass from her hand as she started to cry, set my beer down on the table next to it and took her in my arms. This was the first time since I’d moved out that she had allowed me to show her any kind of affection and it made me miss her and want her with an intensity I hadn’t felt for a long time. Penny must have felt it too because while I was weighing up the pros and cons of going with the moment she leaned in and kissed me and then a small voice called out from upstairs: ‘I feel sick!’

And that was it. It was all over before it began. Penny unwrapped herself from my arms and began straightening her clothing. The moment and everything that was riding on it had gone.

‘I’d better go and check on him,’ said Penny, refusing to meet my eye as she stood up.

‘Of course,’ I replied. ‘I think there’s some of that kids’ antacid stuff in the bathroom cabinet. I’ll go and get it.’

Penny held up her hand. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s nothing a kiss and a little tummy rub won’t solve but if it doesn’t I’ll find it. I’ll probably be a while though so if you wouldn’t mind letting yourself out that would be great.’

‘Of course,’ I replied, rising to my feet. ‘Give him a kiss from me and tell him I’ll speak to him in the morning.’

22

‘It’s because you haven’t been getting any,’ said Van.

‘Plus, it was your kid’s birthday,’ said Paul, shaking his head sadly.

‘Plus you haven’t been getting any,’ said Van.

‘Plus you said you’d both been drinking,’ said Stewart.

‘Plus you haven’t been getting any,’ repeated Van. ‘It was like a perfect storm. Acute emotions, plus booze, plus neither of you getting any: if that kid of yours hadn’t interrupted proceedings there’s a good chance that the two of you would have exploded before you’d even reached the sack.’

‘That’s all fine,’ I replied, ‘but it’s not exactly the issue is it? The issue is what do I do about it now it’s happened? Do I bring it up? Do I ignore it? What would she want me to do?’

‘If you want my advice,’ said Paul, ‘I’d say don’t go there. It’s not worth it.’

‘Dude’s right,’ said Van. ‘All you’re doing is stringing out the inevitable.’

‘But we kissed!’ I protested. ‘We actually kissed. That’s got to mean something, surely? She’s not come anywhere near me since this whole thing started.’

Stewart nodded. ‘It’s a tough one, mate – and I speak as someone who took his ex back at least half a dozen times. On the one hand the boys are right: all it does in the end is string out the pain but on the other hand it doesn’t matter what they say because if you love her, you’re going to do it anyway. At the end of the day there are some things in life that you can only find out the hard way.’

When I first thought about calling together an emergency meeting of the Divorced Dads’ Club in the pub on Sunday afternoon to discuss what had happened with Penny it hadn’t once occurred to me that any one of them let alone
all
of them would be so convinced that getting back together with Penny would be such a bad idea. It didn’t make sense and yet so far they’d been right about every piece of advice they’d given me.

‘It’s a newbie mistake,’ explained Van. ‘And believe me I made it a few times with my girl. I think over the course of the last year we ended up falling into bed half a dozen times and on each and every one of them I was fully convinced that we were getting back together and each and every time we split up again. And they take their toll you know, the break-ups – each one shatters your heart just that little bit more. In the end for the sake of the kids we both made the decision not to let it happen again. Some things are just too dangerous to mess with.’

Paul nodded. ‘It took me and Lisa three attempts to separate properly. It was terrible for the kids because they never really knew where they stood.’

‘It’s true,’ said Stewart. ‘The kids come off worst of all. Every time my ex came back I could see in their eyes that even they didn’t believe they’d be home for long and sure enough they never were. Kids need stability. They need to know where they stand. They need to know that if you say you’re going to stay together you mean it.’

‘Of course I mean it,’ I replied. ‘Do you really think that I ever want to go through this again? I can hear what you’re all saying and I understand completely, but this is different. I want Penny back so much it hurts and if I don’t take this chance just because things might not go my way then I might as well give up now.’ I drained my pint glass. ‘Thanks for coming out, guys, you’ve been a real help, but my mind’s made up: I’m getting my family back.’

It was just after three as I arrived at the house. I didn’t know what I was going to say but I knew exactly how I was going to say it: with power and conviction so that there couldn’t be any other response from Penny except, ‘Let’s work this out.’

I reached up to ring the doorbell but before I could the front door opened revealing Penny, Rosie and Jack dressed as though they were about to go out.

‘Joe,’ said Penny. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘He’s here to come to the park with us,’ said Jack excitedly.

‘Don’t be a lame brain, Jack,’ said Rosie. ‘How would Dad know we were going to the park unless Mum invited him?’

Simultaneously Penny and I both reprimanded Rosie for her ‘lame brain’ comment. It was nice being in sync about this even if we were out of sync with everything else.

‘I’m here to speak to your mum,’ I said, looking at Penny.

‘Actually, now’s not a good time,’ she said quietly, bending down to adjust Jack’s hood.

‘But we need to talk,’ I replied. ‘You know . . . about that thing that happened last night.’

The kids looked at me and said in unison: ‘What happened last night?’

‘Dad’s talking about some trifle that got spilled on the sofa,’ said Penny quickly.

‘I didn’t see anything,’ said Rosie. ‘Where was it?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Penny. She looked at me. ‘I’ve sorted the problem so there’s no need for you to worry.’

‘Oh,’ I said, finally getting the message. So that was it, was it? Last night was an aberration. A mistake. A moment of weakness. ‘Well, if you’ve got it sorted then I won’t bother you.’

‘But you can still come to the park though,’ said Jack brightly.

‘No, I can’t, son,’ I replied. ‘Not today.’

‘But you have to,’ he insisted. ‘I want to show you how good I am with my new scooter.’ Jack turned to Penny. ‘Mum, tell Dad he has to come to the park with us.’

Penny and I exchanged embarrassed glances. She’d obviously been hoping for a quick and easy half-hour of fresh air with the kids without the unnecessary complication of her estranged husband with whom she’d shared a kiss the night before. As much as I wanted to go with them I had to give her a way out of this if she wasn’t to use it as another one in a long list of reasons why she was never going to take me back. I knelt down next to Jack. ‘I’d love to come with you guys but I don’t think today is the best day. I’ve got lots of stuff to do . . . but listen, we’ll do it soon, OK? You have my word.’

Jack pouted indignantly. ‘You always say that now and it’s not fair!’ He turned to Penny with determination etched across his little face. ‘I know it’s not my birthday any more but please Mum, please, please, please can Dad come with us? I promise I won’t ask for anything for next year’s birthday if you say yes.’

‘It’s up to Daddy,’ said Penny, her voice neutral. Whatever happened next was all on me. ‘He’s said he’s busy and so we should respect that.’

‘Please Daddy?’ said Jack.

Rosie looked at Penny. ‘He won’t come unless you ask him to. That’s how it works when you don’t live together.’

‘It’s true,’ said Jack, even though it was obvious from the vacant expression on his face that he had no idea what she was talking about. ‘That’s how it works.’

More embarrassed glances. The kids had run absolute rings around us with their subtle but exacting use of emotional blackmail and detective work. Penny sighed, clearly wishing that she hadn’t left this trip until so late in the day. ‘Joe, will you come to the park with us?’

Even without looking at them I could feel the kids’ eyes boring into me.

‘Doesn’t look like I’ve got much choice really, does it?’ I replied.

The park was crawling with kids. There were kids kicking footballs, kids pulling wheelies on their BMXs, kids swinging dangerously off vertiginous climbing frames and kids screaming at the top of their voices for no other reason than it seemed like a cool thing to do. Then of course there were Penny and I sitting on a bench, barely saying a word to each other as we watched our two – Jack zipping up and down the smooth tarmac of the main path on his new scooter and Rosie zigzagging on her bike near the cool kids doing tricks on their skateboards. I turned to look at Penny and even though she was staring straight ahead I knew that she knew exactly what I was doing.

‘Listen, about last night . . .’ My voice trailed off as I knew it would; after all there wasn’t any need to spell it out. It was obvious that it was the only thing either of us was thinking about.

‘It was a mistake,’ said Penny. Her eyes remained fixed ahead; her voice was small and low. Anyone observing us would have us down as two spies making a drop. ‘I let myself get carried away,’ she continued. ‘I’m sorry if you feel it was anything more.’

I shook my head. ‘It wasn’t a mistake and you know it. Last night was the first bit of real hope we’ve had – a small chink of light after months of gloom – we can’t just ignore it. It meant something.’

Penny turned to me for the first time. ‘No, it didn’t. It was just two stressed-out parents who had probably drunk more than they should coming over a bit sentimental because their youngest wasn’t a baby any more.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

Penny shook her head. ‘We don’t need to get into all this, Joe. All we need to do is concentrate on being the best parents we can be for our children and what happened last night . . . and what would’ve happened, well . . . it, like this conversation, would’ve been just another stumbling block to get in our way.’

‘You’re wrong,’ I replied. ‘You’ve never been more wrong. This could be our chance to—’ I stopped at the unmistakable sound of Jack crying. I looked over. His face was crumpled, tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was running over to us clutching his elbow. I loved Jack dearly but what was it about him that meant he knew exactly the worst time to interrupt a conversation?

Penny ran over to Jack and swept him up into her arms as he sobbed: ‘I was trying to do a stunt like the big boys and I fell off my scooter.’

Penny sat him on a bench and rolled his sleeve up to check the damage.

‘I don’t think I want to play on my scooter any more today,’ said Jack once he’d calmed down. ‘Can we go home now?’

‘Yes,’ said Penny, relieved. ‘Of course we can.’

My usually gloomy hallway glowed with the golden light of the setting sun as I kicked off my shoes. Hungry and fed up I dropped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster before emptying a can of beans into bowl and shoving them into the microwave. As the beans heated up I tried to distract myself from the maudlin thoughts waiting in the wings with plans for what the kids and I might do next weekend. I was determined to make it a good one. Instead of just sitting around the house getting bored we would all go out to do something cultural. There was a new exhibition about theatrical costumes at the V&A, which I was pretty sure Rosie would get a real kick out of and which I could get Jack to tolerate as long as it was done in under an hour and ended with a visit to Pizza Hut. And then maybe on Sunday I’d cook a proper Sunday lunch, just like the ones my mum used to make: roast chicken, roast potatoes, carrots and broccoli, maybe even Yorkshire puddings too. And then when I took them back to Penny’s they’d be so full of excitement about the amazing weekend they’d enjoyed that she’d feel, if only for a moment, that she had missed out on something special. I couldn’t help but laugh. It was pathetic really. Trying to get back at Penny by making her jealous about an imaginary weekend that I hadn’t a hope of pulling off. I’d have enough trouble selling the idea of museums as entertainment to Rosie let alone cooking a chicken in an oven which last time I used it had filled the kitchen with so much smoke that it set off my neighbour’s smoke alarm as well as my own.