The Marriage Mender (25 page)

‘So you were basically putting him up for adoption, for a new mother?’

‘Yeah. Chris took his time, as it turned out, but he got there in the end.’

I shook my head. ‘So why did you come back?’

‘Because I wanted to see that for myself. And I wanted
him to know that I wasn’t the demon he probably thought I was.’

‘Chris never bad-mouthed you. Not that I know of, anyway. He gave Josh a box of memories of you. Things he’d kept over the years. A photo of you with him when he was a baby.’

Lydia turned to look out of the window, not realising I could see the reflection of her tears in the glass. ‘I’ve been such a cow,’ she said.

‘No, you haven’t.’

‘Stop being so fucking nice, will you?’ she screamed. ‘I don’t deserve it. I fucking lied to him. To them both. And now look what’s happened. Just when I think I can’t screw up any worse than I have done …’ Her voice trailed off.

I knew straight away. Something lifted inside me, the world lurched back into focus. ‘Josh is Chris’s son, isn’t he?’

She bit her lip and nodded. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I never doubted it, but Chris did.’

‘Because he never got it. How I couldn’t even look at any other man apart from him, let alone cheat on him. I slept around before I met him, and I’ve slept around since, but I never messed around when I was with him. I was far too much in love with him to do that.’

She sat silently, her head bent over the table, the tears dripping on to the wood, her body shaking, as if awaiting its inevitable punishment.

‘Well, hit me or something, for Christ’s sake,’ she said. ‘Or, better still, go and get a kitchen knife. I’ll do it myself, you haven’t got to get your hands dirty. I’ll even wipe the handle before I do it.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘Because that won’t help anyone, will it? Least of all Chris or Josh.’

‘It will help me,’ she said.

I got up and pulled one of those reusable shopping bags out of my handbag. ‘Where’s your booze?’ I asked.

She frowned at me before pointing to the door. ‘Kitchen cupboard. Top left.’

I went through to the kitchen, took two bottles of vodka and one of gin from the cupboard and put them in my bag. I opened the drawers until I found the one in which she kept the sharp knives, then wrapped them in a tea towel and put them in too before going back into the main room.

‘Any tablets?’ I asked. ‘I’m going to go through your bathroom cabinet, anyway. So it’s better that you tell me now.’

‘Just painkillers,’ she said. ‘Bottom right.’

I went and got them from the bathroom, checking the other shelves just in case. I went back into the room with my haul. She stared up at me. The eyeliner and mascara had run and smudged across her face. She looked a mess.

‘Purse?’

She pointed to her handbag.

I took it out and checked her bank card was inside too. ‘You’ve got enough food to live on for a couple of days,’ I said. ‘So you won’t be needing this. It’s for your own good, OK? Come and see me when you run out of food. Have you got anyone nearby you can call?’

She shook her head.

I picked up the phone book on the table, opened it on the help pages and put it in front of her. ‘There are
numbers there of people who can help you,’ I said. ‘You need to get some help.’

She nodded.

I had no idea if she meant it, but I had done all I could. It was no longer up to me. I squeezed her shoulder before walking to the door and seeing myself out.

* * *

I walked back down the hill into town, the bottles clinking against each other. I felt as if there were two lifts inside my stomach and someone was playing a game, calling them to the top and bottom in turn.

I went straight there. I didn’t want to leave it a moment longer to put him out of his misery. I pushed the door of the studio, heard the bell ring. The sound of feet coming slowly down the stairs.

He would think the worst, I knew he would.

‘Everything’s OK. I haven’t heard anything.’ I said it almost before his face appeared.

He stared at me.

I took a few steps towards him. ‘Josh is yours,’ I said. ‘Lydia lied. I’ve just seen her. She never cheated on you. She never even thought about it.’

Chris screwed his eyes tight shut.

I dropped the bag on the floor and ran to put my arms around him.

Behind me, one of Lydia’s bottles rolled across the room.

We were having sex, and he stopped right in the middle of it and said, ‘Oh, before I forget, Mum said would you mind picking up some HP sauce for her next time you’re in Tesco?’

And he just went back to it. Like that was OK.

‘It’s getting near Josh’s birthday,’ said Matilda as she put on her school uniform on Friday morning.

She was right, of course. It had always been the thing which had got Josh over the disappointment of having to go back to school after the summer holidays, the reminder that this meant his birthday was approaching.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It is …’

There was a pause. I wasn’t sure whether she wanted me to fill the gap or whether I should leave it to her.

‘Do you think he’ll come back for his birthday?’ she asked, stopping for a moment with her head halfway through her school sweatshirt.

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I hope so.’

‘I would,’ she said, pulling it down over her head. ‘If I was travelling around somewhere, I’d make sure I was
back in time for my birthday. It would be really silly to miss it. I mean, you don’t get another one for a year.’

I smiled and nodded. ‘That’s true.’

‘What if he doesn’t come back for it?’ she asked.

I sat down on her bed. ‘Then we’ll just have to hope that, wherever he is, he’s having a nice day.’

She looked at me, clearly dissatisfied with my answer. ‘Well, it won’t be nice if he’s not here with us, will it?’

I reached for her hand and pulled her closer to me. ‘You miss him, don’t you?’

She nodded, her brown eyes bulging with sadness. ‘I thought he was only going to be gone for a little while.’

‘So did we, sweetheart.’

‘Then why hasn’t he come back? Is he mad at us? Is it because of his mum and all the shouting?’

I sighed. It was getting harder and harder to be economical with the truth around her.

‘Josh has had a lot happen in the past year. I think he needs some time on his own to sort things out in his head.’

‘What if he never sorts them out?’

‘Let’s just hope he does, eh, love?’

Matilda nodded.

I kissed her on the top of her head.

‘Are we going to buy him birthday presents and cards, like we normally do?’ she asked.

It was a good question, and one I wasn’t prepared for. I was caught between not wanting to raise false hopes and
the desire to carry on as normal. And due to the lack of a parenting book with a chapter entitled ‘How to deal with birthdays if one of your children has run away’, I was going to have to come down on one side or the other.

‘I’m not sure. What do you think?’

‘I think we should. I think he’d be disappointed if he came home on his birthday and we hadn’t got him anything.’

‘Yep, you’re probably right. How about we go shopping tomorrow to get them?’

Matilda smiled and gave me a hug.

‘But please remember, love, that if he’s not home for his birthday it’s not a problem, we’ll just save them for when he is, OK?’

Matilda nodded. The smile remained.

And I hoped that the pile of presents from missed birthdays and Christmases wouldn’t get too big before that day came.

* * *

‘So how are you feeling now?’ Tania asked Chris at our next session, when we’d updated her on Lydia’s confession.

I knew what she was getting at. It was almost as if he had been clinging on to the idea that Josh wasn’t his son as a way of trying to lessen the impact of his disappearance.

‘Relieved. Obviously massively relieved.’

‘You really didn’t think he was yours?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Chris. ‘Everything happened so quickly, it was hard to get my head around it. But the fact
that Josh ran away seemed to cement it in my head. The idea that it was true.’

‘Because you thought he believed it?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And now you know it’s not true?’

Chris shrugged. ‘It makes it harder, in a way. Because I can’t pretend that he’s not my son, my responsibility. It focuses everything on the fact that he’s missing. Nothing else matters any more.’

‘Your relationship matters,’ said Tania.

‘Yeah, of course,’ said Chris, looking down at the floor.

‘And how do you think it’s been affected by Josh’s disappearance?’

‘Pretty badly, obviously. I just haven’t been able to talk about it. I’ve wanted to, but it’s been too painful. Too many things tied up with it.’

‘But now you’ve talked to Alison about those things and now you know that you’re Josh’s father, do you think you’ll find it easier? Do you think you could give it a try?’

Chris looked at me and then back to Tania. ‘Yeah,’ he said.

‘Good. And what about you, Alison?’ she asked. ‘How have you felt during all of this?’

I hesitated before replying, not wanting to make Chris feel bad but knowing I needed to be honest too.

‘Frozen out,’ I said. ‘Because he wouldn’t talk to me. And because he blamed me, which is understandable, I know. I mean, it is all my fault.’

‘Because you didn’t tell Chris that Josh was seeing Lydia agian, you mean?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Remind me why you did that, Alison.’

‘Because I thought it would make things worse. Cause big rows.’

‘You thought the arguments would start again?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And you’ve always hated arguments, haven’t you? Always worried they’d cause your family to break up. Ever since you were a little girl.’

I nodded, trying to blink back the tears. Chris reached over and squeezed my hand.

‘You get it now, don’t you?’ she asked Chris. He nodded.

‘Now, obviously,’ continued Tania, ‘you can come back next week and we can do a big session on how we go about forgiving each other for being screwed up by what happened to us when we were younger. Or you two can have a couple of weeks off, sort it out yourselves and spend the money you save on doing something nice together.’

Chris gave her a sheepish grin. ‘The latter, I think.’

‘Glad to hear it. Now bugger off and be good to each other.’

* * *

Lydia arrived while Chris and Matilda were out. I’d arranged it that way when she’d texted me. She stood on the doorstep looking considerably better than the last time I’d seen her, although that wasn’t hard.

‘Come in a minute,’ I said.

She stepped inside. I had a carrier bag of her things ready in the hall. I picked it up and passed it to her.

‘Not these,’ she said, picking out the drink bottles and handing them to me. ‘I won’t be needing these.’

I nodded and took them from her. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I realised afterwards I should have gone and got your washing for you.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ she said. ‘It was fine. They know me there. They kept it for me.’

I nodded.

Lydia looked down at the floor. ‘I’m going away for a bit,’ she said.

‘Right.’

‘To my brother’s.’

‘Oh. I didn’t know you had one.’

‘Yeah, he’s ten years older than me. He lives in Cumbria. He’s got a family and that. I’m going to have to be on my best behaviour.’

‘Good,’ I said. ‘I don’t mean about the behaviour. I mean that you’ve got somewhere to go. Someone to support you.’

‘He got out before my mum got really bad with her drinking. He knows, though. He knows all about it and what to do.’

I nodded. ‘Is she still around, your mum?’

Lydia shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but she’s no good to anyone even if she is.’

We were silent for a moment. Lydia avoiding eye contact.

‘Well, good luck, then,’ I said.

‘Cheers. I’m not planning on coming back. Not until I get myself sorted, anyway. And maybe not even then. I think I need a clean break. I’ve emailed Josh, told him that Chris is his father. Apologised to him. Not that he’ll ever forgive me, of course, but I thought he had the right to know.’

‘Thank you,’ I said.

She turned to go, then looked back. ‘You will let me know, won’t you? If you hear anything, I mean.’

I nodded.

‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘He’s very lucky to have a mum like you.’

* * *

It was nearly time for Bob. I’d miss him, when he finally decided to stop coming. He was like a faithful Labrador lying at your feet: dependable, reliable, easy to please. The ideal start to a Monday morning, really.

I poked my head round the door to invite him in. It wasn’t Bob, though. It was Jayne. She looked different from the last time I’d seen her. Her face was bordering on gaunt. The shadows under her eyes were darker and deeper.

‘Hello, Jayne,’ I said.

‘I hope you don’t mind me coming,’ she said. ‘Bob said you wouldn’t.’

‘Of course I don’t. It’s lovely to see you. Please, come through.’

She picked up her handbag and walked past me into the
room. She smelt of Yardley perfume and sadness. She took a seat, the handbag perched on her knees. Seemingly glad of the handles to hang on to.

‘So, how are you?’ I said.

‘I won’t beat about the bush,’ she replied. ‘There’s no point, because Bob will have told you, anyway. I haven’t been good and that’s why I’m here.’

‘He’s been ever so concerned about you.’

‘I know. He’s a good man. I’m lucky to have him, really. Never thought I’d end up with someone like him.’

‘Why not?’

‘Too good for me, really. Way too good.’

I decided to let it go for now. ‘Anyway, I hear congratulations are in order. Bob told me you’re going to be a grandma.’

Jayne nodded. ‘Yes, that’s right. Cassie’s due in February. February, of all months.’ She fiddled with the handles of her bag. I wasn’t sure what she was getting at.

‘Bob said you’d been finding it difficult.’

She nodded again, still not making eye contact.

‘That you weren’t planning to go over for the birth.’

‘No. I don’t think I’d be much help, really. Don’t want to get under her feet.’

We both knew that wasn’t the real reason. I let her settle herself for a moment before continuing.

‘I’m not going to put any pressure on you, Jayne, but I know you came here today for a reason and I want to spend as much time as I can helping you, rather than keeping up the pretence.’

Jayne looked up at me. I could see her hands were shaking.

‘I want to tell you,’ she said, ‘but it’s harder than I thought.’

‘I understand. I assure you you’ll feel better, though, once you’ve shared it.’

Jayne sat for a moment, twiddled with the handles, adjusted her glasses.

‘If I went over for the birth,’ she said. ‘I would see that baby coming into the world, and I would have its tiny hand grip my finger and I would hold it and I would cuddle it and kiss it. But very soon, far too soon, I would have to leave it, say goodbye and come away. And I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t bear to do that again.’

She opened her handbag and started rummaging around for a tissue. I took one from the box on the table and handed it to her. I pulled my chair up next to hers so I could sit holding her hand.

‘Cassie wasn’t your first child, was she?’

Jayne shook her head. A strangled noise, something between a whimper and a sob, came from inside her.

‘Please tell me what happened, Jayne. I won’t judge and I won’t tell anyone outside this room, if you don’t want me to, OK?’

She nodded. ‘I were sixteen,’ she said. ‘Sweet sixteen, supposedly. I worked in an office. Doing a bit of typing and filing and that. I were a pretty little thing, everyone said. It were nice to have that said about you. I didn’t let it go to my head, though. And I didn’t do anything to give him the wrong idea. At least, I don’t think I did.’

‘Who was this, Jayne?’

‘Robert, my sister’s husband. They’d only been married a couple of years. They had a baby, Julie, she were called, after Julie Christie. Pretty little dot, she were too, I were right proud to be her auntie.

‘I’d just babysat for them while they’d been to pictures. First time they’d been out together since the birth. Good as gold she were, just started crying a few minutes before they got back. I had a bottle ready so my sister took her straight upstairs to feed her and change her and that was when he did it. Forced himself on me, like.’

I felt Jayne’s hand tighten her grip on mine.

‘What did you do?’

‘Nothing. I didn’t really understand what were happening at first. And by the time I did, it were too late. I couldn’t get a sound out, I were too shocked.’

‘What happened afterwards?’

‘He didn’t say owt. Just zipped himself up and took me back home in his car. Told me that if I said a word to anyone, he’d tell them I’d come on to him. That I’d been asking for it. I made a mess in his car, of course. Because, well, you know, it were first time and that. I crept indoors and went straight up to my room and took off my dress, put it in a bag with my undies. It all went in dustbin next morning.’

‘You didn’t tell anyone? Not even your mum?’

‘No. I felt so ashamed. Like it must have been my fault. I didn’t say a word. And then, of course, my period didn’t come, or the one after. I didn’t realise straight away. I
mean, nobody talked about that sort of thing in those days, not around where we lived, anyway. But then I started feeling sick when I woke up every morning, and that were when I knew.’

‘So what did you do?’

‘Nothing. I didn’t know what to do at first so I didn’t say owt. But then I went downstairs for breakfast one morning and I were physically sick in kitchen, right in front of my mum. I had to tell her. I told her it were Robert and what happened. She said I were making it up, that I’d got myself in trouble and I were a dirty little girl and I’d have to get rid of it.

‘I couldn’t, mind. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. She booked me into a clinic. Told my father we were going away for a couple of days, some sort of shopping trip. So the night before, I packed a few bits and pieces. And first thing in morning I crept out of the house and caught a bus down to train station. I got on a train to Leeds and when I got there the next train out were to Manchester, so I got on that. I panicked a bit when we got past Bradford, mind. I’d never been outside of Yorkshire before. So I got off at Halifax instead.’

I realised it was me holding Jayne’s hand tighter this time. Too tight. I loosened my grip slightly. All the time trying to remember how old Jayne had said she was.

‘Where did you go?’

‘I went straight to the council and got a flat. You could do, in those days. I got a job too, a few days later. Doing some secretarial work for an accountant. Nice chap, he was, must have been near retirement age.’