The Torn Up Marriage (12 page)

“Yes, the Lakes are beautiful.” She and Michael had been there as a couple many years before. That hotel overlooking Derwentwater. She drifted back. They had walked the fells hand in hand, and when the rains had inevitably come they had ended up laughing, soaked through, made their way back to their hotel room, took off each other’s damp clothes and settled on the Victorian-style double bed and made love slowly and tenderly. When was that? It was before they had the girls. Charlotte was five now, so six, maybe seven years ago, soon after they had married. It felt like a lifetime ago.

She was feeling a bit shaky. Too much of Michael in this house. Memories filling her head. “Well, I’d better be getting going soon, Dorothy. Thanks for the tea. I’ll give you chance to crack on with the cake-making.”

“Oh, but you’ve only just got here.”

“I’m sorry, but I have a lot to catch up with at home, and without the girls it’ll give me chance to get going.” Maybe she’d go and set fire to all those black sacks in the garage, for a start.

“Oh, I see. Well, yes, you go and make the most of your free time.”

“Have fun all of you.” Kate looked across the room at the girls chattering away with Grandad and waved at them, “Bye girls, have a lovely time!”

“Fank you.” Emily. “Are we seeing you tonight?” Charlotte.

“Yes, yeah. Daddy’s bringing you back to our house again later.”

Charlotte nodded, thinking about it, then seemed to relax. Kate saw George beside her puff out his chest indignantly, in a how-dare-he-put-you-all-through-this motion. But he stayed silent.

“Cake-making it is then,” Dorothy announced.

“Ye-ah.” The girls were off their chairs, dashing to the kitchen area in an instant.

Giggling as they helped Granny set up for their cake-making fest. George fetching them stools so they’d be able to reach the counter top.

It was lovely to see them happy, carefree. She realised the atmosphere at home had changed so much of late. “Bring me a couple home!” Kate squeezed Charlotte’s cheek, then patted down Emily’s hair.

“Of course,” Charlotte answered, “Is that alright, Granny?”

“Yes, certainly. We can’t miss Mummy out.”

“And some for Daddy when he gets here,” Emily added.

“Yes, of course. Daddy too.”

“See you later then, girls.” She turned to Dorothy, “And thank you.”

“Anytime, darling, it’s a pleasure. Anytime. You know, we’ll always have the girls here, or come and sit for them if you need to be anywhere, or if you want a night out or something.”

“Thanks.” A night out – it seemed an alien concept.

“So, if we implemented these changes, rebranded and went with your suggestion of a newly styled website, what kind of profit increases might you expect such an investment to bring? Michael?”

He had drifted off there a second. Damn, very unprofessional. But the meeting had been dragging on for a while now. The main business having been discussed over an hour ago and they’d already gone over all this in the middle of his PowerPoint presentation. He swiped a quick glance at his watch. Already ten to one! He’d promised he’d be there by one, and it was a 15-minute drive away as it was.

He refocused, just as Sophie who was giving him a curious sideways glance, started to speak. “Well, Mr Hall, we have covered this in the earlier slides, but I realise there was a lot to take in. There are copies for you both on the desk in front of you to look at and take away, but a quick summary…” She paused, giving Michael a sharp stare.

“Yes,” he coughed himself back into the conversation, “Obviously, it’s difficult to put exact figures on this, and we are aware that every company varies. But, for example, we worked with a small manufacturing company along similar lines to your own last year. Together we came up with a new website, which included a contact page meaning their customers could email enquiries directly to the company. Just from that alone they increased their new business enquiries by over 40 per cent. Also, we’d work closely with yourselves looking at rebranding, giving the company a fresh, modern, dynamic feel with new logos and the like. We can also help with advertising materials, flyers, newspaper ads; really as much or as little as you would like at this stage. It doesn’t all have to happen at once. So
you
can control your costs. Though I would strongly advise going ahead and looking at your website as soon as possible, so as not to lose any more opportunities. It’s definitely a win-win.”
And my company gets a nice fat pay cheque for the work, too. He’d contract in Pete again; he was ace with his websites.
Michael smiled reassuringly, pleased with his summing up.

The father and son who owned the business were nodding. The younger, smiling widely, obviously desperate to bring the family company into the 21
^st
century at long last, happy that his father seemed to be in agreement.

“The next stage, if you are happy to proceed,” Michael continued, “Would be for me to call in person at your company, get even more of a feel for the business. Then we can work on designs and image together. I can draw up prototype web pages, which we can view and amend before they go live online, so that we are all happy. Same with a new logo. We’ll send out some initial ideas, see how you feel about them and then work on them together.”

“Yes that sounds very acceptable, Mr Armstrong. I look forward to working with you.” Mr Hall Senior spoke, his stern face at last breaking into a cautious smile.

“Sophie, perhaps you could fetch the diary and we can go ahead and arrange a suitable date and time for that visit.” Michael was aware of the seconds ticking away.

Sophie walked briskly out to her desk in the reception area.

“Would you like to join us for some lunch, Michael?” The younger gentleman asked.

Damn
. “Thank you, Roger, that’s very kind. But I’m afraid I have a prior commitment. It’s rather urgent, so I must be making a move shortly. But, if there’s anything further you want to discuss once you’ve had chance to read everything through, then please do call me.”

“We will. I’m sure it will be a pleasure working with you, Michael.”

“Oh, the pleasure’s all ours.” He was trying not to rush them out of the meeting room, but felt twitchy. Sophie came back through with the diary, offering a couple of dates and times the following week, settling on the Wednesday. Then they closed the meeting, shaking hands all round. Michael spotted the elder Mr Hall diving a look down Sophie’s cleavage, the dirty old bugger. But hmn, her breasts did jiggle nicely when she shook hands, he couldn’t help but notice himself. Right – the girls. Two minutes and he could be in the car. The businessmen were wandering out through the lobby, he and Sophie strolling after them, pretending they had all the time in the world, adding their goodbyes.

Sophie then dashed back to the meeting room, gathering up cups and files. “Don’t worry, I’ll clear up here. You get away.” She knew his plans and the fuss he’d had with Kate about it all. Also she knew how much he missed the girls. It showed in his face when he was on the phone with them, when he came back from dropping them off. “Go on, get going. I’ve got keys to lock up here. I’ve got a nail appointment, so I’m busy this afternoon anyway, and I’ll call at the deli for something for supper for us. I’m fine. You have a lovely time with the girls. See you later.”

He gave her a warm hug, “You’re a star, Miss Baxter, and thanks for saving me back there. I’d zoned out for a second or two.” He kissed her cheek affectionately, holding her briefly in his arms. Her body was warm, soft and curvy.

“Yes, I’d noticed. It’s not like you.”

“Hmn, I know. Seem to have a lot on my mind right now. Okay, I’m away. Thanks.”

He drove in, with a crunch of gravel, parking haphazardly. Ten minutes late. His parents would understand surely? Hopefully the girls would be happy playing in the garden or something, blissfully unaware of the time. It was a sunny day, just into May. His mother had the garden immaculate as usual, bright with shrubs and annuals. Tall lupins, in shades of deep blue, yellows and peach, stood bold in the borders.

He hoped he’d get a better reception from his parents today. It had been markedly cool when he’d come last time, announcing his split with Kate and having to confess to his affair with Sophie. He’d felt like a chastised schoolboy. But it was never going to be an easy thing to explain, was it? They’d spoken on the phone a couple of times since, but his parents had made it quite clear that he was welcome on his own, but not with “that girl”. He supposed it was only natural; he hadn’t said too much to Sophie about it, didn’t want to upset her. They’d come round to the idea in time.

He stood out of the car, heard the sound of children’s laughter coming from the back of the house; an innocent, natural sound that made him sigh, and decided to take the path round the back, via an arched gate through the stone wall.

He watched unnoticed as his mother stood counting up to 20, the girls fleeing off in separate directions giggling, looking for places to hide. One hid behind a large hydrangea, the other one crouched behind the compost heap. His mother shouted “I’m coming”, the giggles alone were enough to tell her where Emily was, shaking the shrub’s leaves, but she passed by her and made a good show of hunting the entire garden. He could tell she hadn’t actually twigged where Charlotte had got to, but once Emily was “found”, her cries of “Daddy” made Lottie dash out across the lawn to him.

“Hello, Michael,” his mother smiled gently.

The girls were in his arms and he swung them around, smothered with their kisses.

There was something sad in the way his mother looked at the three of them.

“Hullo, Michael,” His father was standing on the back step, his voice cool yet polite, making a show of checking his wristwatch.

“Daddy, can
you
play this time?” Charlotte was chanting in his ear.

Emily shouting, “Yes. Yes. Daddy count.”

“Okay, okay.”

They leapt down. Charlotte calling, “Shut your eyes. No cheating.”

“Okay, I promise. Look, eyes shut.” He grimaced as he screwed his eyes tight and started counting in a loud chant. This time a pale-blue delphinium was shaking with giggles. He passed by, then checked out the compost heap – no visitors this time – and finally found Charlotte one branch up an old apple tree. They hunted down Em and then made their way to the house.

Dorothy was filling the teapot and had some orange squash ready for the girls. George was still ominously quiet, surveying the scene.

“Shall we have tea in the garden?” Dorothy asked. “I’ve got some sandwiches ready for lunch if you’d like.”

Michael spotted neatly cut ham and salmon-and-cucumber sandwiches piled high, and a plate stacked with gorgeous-looking cakes, if rather multi-coloured and laden with those sprinkle things.

“Yes, that sounds a good idea,” George responded.

“Lovely, Mum.”

“You go on out with the girls, Dot,” His father continued in a private tone. “We’ll catch you up in a mo.”

“See you out there shortly, then.” She picked up the tray. “Come on, girls. Time to try the buns, the icing’s set lovely now.”

George took him to one side. Michael had the feeling this was going to be one of those father-son talks. He hadn’t had one of those since his teenage years. The look of grave disappointment on his father’s face said it all.

When the womenfolk were safely out of earshot, George slowly folded his arms.

“What’s going on, Michael?”

“What do you mean?”

His father just gave him a look.

“About Kate? The girls?” Michael guessed.

“Of course about Kate and the girls. Do you think I’m stupid or something?”

“No, of course not.”

“And don’t say it’s not my business, because it bloody well is. I care about them all, too. A darned sight more than you, it seems, at the moment.”

Michael looked his father in the eye. This wasn’t going to be easy, but the least the man deserved was an explanation. The last thing Michael wanted right now was to fall out with his parents as well.

“Dad, things haven’t been good.” He sighed, searching for the words, “Me and Kate, it’s changed over time… I really haven’t been happy. I’m talking years, Dad. And then I met a lovely woman. A beautiful, caring woman and we’re together now. That’s it. That’s what’s going on.”

George let out a half-groan, you-silly-sod kind of noise, “Can you not see what you’ve already got, son? What you’re leaving behind? Who you’re hurting?”

“I’m sorry, Dad. I know it’s been difficult for everyone. It wasn’t a decision I took lightly.” He ruffled a hand through his hair.

“Well, you could have fooled me! Kate is absolutely devastated. You can tell that just by looking at the poor girl.” His father stood tall, squaring up to his theme. “And your children, well the girls are quieter than usual. Even your mother, she’s tired and drained lately, not like herself at all. It’ll be all the worry. You’ve completely gutted your own family… Your own sodding family,” George sounded tired suddenly, all the puff gone out of him.

“Do you think I like doing this? Do you think it’s easy for me, or something? I miss them like mad,” Michael’s eyes were drawn to the garden, where the girls were sitting with Dorothy nibbling at fairy cakes.

“Well, why are you bloody well doing it?”

“I love her, Dad.” Michael looked straight at his father. “I wouldn’t have done any of this if I didn’t love her.”

George let out along sigh. “Love,
love
? Or sex, Michael? You’re in the cloud-bloody-cuckoo-land stage at the moment. We’ve all been there. Believe it or not, me too. But we don’t all act on it, do we? It’s just about the sex, the excitement. Surely you remember how you felt like that for Kate once, too?”

Michael sighed. He did, he had. Of course he had felt about her in that way.

“Well, what do you think’ll happen when this all fizzes out, and I can assure you it will do, son. Me and your mother have lasted 42 years. Do you think it’s always been easy…? Sometimes she drives me bloody nuts.” George glanced at the patio doors in case Dorothy was coming back through.