The Woman Who Stole My Life (25 page)

Furtively, I opened
One Blink at a Time
. They were my words, but I barely knew this version of me. It was strange, and probably not healthy, to see myself via someone else’s eyes.

I flicked through the pages and memories of my time in hospital flooded back with each phrase I read.

‘Stella?’ It was Mannix, naked except for a towel around his waist.

‘God! You gave me a fright.’

‘You gave
me
a fright. I thought you’d gone. Come back to bed.’

‘I’m awake now.’

‘That’s what I mean. Come back to bed.’

At work, Karen greeted me by saying, ‘You need to get this shit out of here.’ She meant the box of books. ‘I’m tripping over it. There isn’t room.’

‘Okay, I’ll offload them today.’

She looked at me properly. ‘Jesus Christ! No need to ask what you were doing last night.’

‘Wha-at?’ How did she know?

Her gaze moved to my wrist. ‘Is that blood? Are you bleeding?’

I followed her eyes. ‘It’s a … rose petal.’ They’d got everywhere. Even though I’d had a shower and washed my hair, I’d be peeling them off me for days.

‘Oh my God.’ She was almost whispering. ‘I can smell it. Roses. He did the rose-petal thing. You know there’s a company that sells them? A big bag of petals, plucked from the stems? Don’t go flattering yourself thinking he spent hours making them himself. All he had to do was tip the bag over the bed. It would have taken five seconds.’

‘Okay.’ I hadn’t known but I wasn’t getting into an argument.

‘So?’ she said. ‘Was it … sexy?’

I didn’t know what to say. I was bursting to talk about it, but afraid of her judgement.

‘Don’t!’ She held up her hand. ‘Don’t tell me. Okay, tell me one thing. Was there bondage?’

I considered it. ‘Yes. A little.’

Karen’s face was a picture of conflicting emotions.

I wondered if I should show her the red mark on my bottom, but decided I couldn’t be that mean.

I had no clients between ten thirty and noon, so I left the salon and distributed
One Blink at a Time
to nearby friends and family. I was trying to show everyone that Mannix Taylor was a good man who did good things.

Reactions to the book varied. Uncle Peter was bemused, but positive. ‘We’ll find a lovely spot for it in the cabinet. Don’t worry, there’s a key; it’ll be safe in there.’

Zoe was impressed. ‘Wow.’ Her chin went wobbly and she had tears in her eyes. ‘That’s one big sorry, in a different league from lilies and truffles. Maybe he’s a good guy, Stella; maybe there are a few of them out there.’

Mum was anxious. ‘Could you be sued? People who write books are always being sued.’

Dad nearly burst with pride. ‘My own daughter. The author of a book.’

‘Dad, are you
crying
?’

‘I am not.’

But he was.

However, later in the day he rang and complained, ‘It doesn’t have much of a story.’

‘Sorry, Dad.’

‘Are you going to show it to Ryan and the nippers?’

‘I don’t know.’ I’d been agonizing. Showing them the book might make things miles worse. But keeping it from them might also go down badly.

On Wednesday evening, Betsy rang me. ‘Mom? I saw the book? That Dr Taylor did for you? Grandad showed us.’

‘Yes?’ I was gripping the phone hard.

‘It’s like, really beautiful. He likes you, right?’

‘Well …’ I might as well be honest. ‘He seems to.’

‘Mom, could you buy us some food?’

‘Like what?’

‘Like granola and juice and bananas. Just stuff.
You
know. And loo roll. And I think we need a cleaner.’

‘I can come and clean.’

‘I don’t think Dad would be comfortable with that.’

‘Oookay.’ The thing was, I wanted Ryan to fail as a sole parent. But I still wanted the kids getting proper food and wearing clean clothes and keeping up in school. So I needed to be supportive.

But not too supportive …

On Thursday morning, before work, I bought everything I thought the kids and Ryan might need. Praying that they had already left for the day, I rang the bell, and when there was no answer I let myself in. Their house was filthy. The kitchen, in particular – every surface was grimy and covered with crumbs and abandoned food. There were strange sticky spots on the floor and the bins were overflowing.

As I filled the fridge and set to disinfecting the worktops, I reflected that this was utter madness:
they
had left me, yet here I was doing their shopping and cleaning their house. But I knew that the time was fast approaching when it would all go belly-up for Ryan, and the kids would be mine again.

 … And I had to admit that I almost didn’t want them back. Not yet. I wanted this time alone.

Except I wasn’t alone. I was with Mannix.

Every day since Monday, as soon as I’d finished work, I drove out to the beach house, where he was waiting for me,
the candles already lit, the wine already poured and the fridge full of lovely food that we mostly didn’t eat. The minute I stepped through the door he was on me. We had so much sex that I was sore. We did it everywhere. He undressed me on a rug in front of the fire, then ran ice cubes around my nipples. He carried me outdoors, where, despite the astonishing cold, we tore into each other on the sand. One night, I woke in the darkness with such a longing that I stroked him until he was hard enough to be straddled – only when he was inside me, did he wake up.

Every morning, before we left for our jobs, we did it at least once.

Even so, by midday on Thursday, I was so horny that I didn’t think I’d last until the evening, so in a gap between clients I drove home and rang him.

‘Where are you?’ I asked.

‘At my clinic.’

‘Are you alone?’

‘… Why?’

‘I’m not wearing any knickers.’

‘Oh Christ,’ he groaned. ‘No, Stella.’

‘Yes, Stella. I’m lying on my bed.’

‘Don’t tell me. You’ve never had phone sex before?’

‘First time for everything. I’m touching myself, Mannix.’

‘Stella, I’m a fucking doctor! I have to see people. Don’t do this to me.’

‘Go on,’ I whispered. ‘Are you hard yet?’

‘… Yes.’

‘Pretend I’m there. Pretend I’ve got you in my mouth. Pretend my tongue is …’

I kept up a steady stream of low talk as I listened to his breathing become faster and more ragged.

‘Are you … touching yourself?’ I asked.

‘Yes.’ He hissed in an undertone.

‘Are you … moving yourself?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do it faster. Think of me, think of my mouth, think of my boobs.’

He moaned at that bit.

‘Are you going to come?’

‘… Yes.’

‘When?’

‘Soon.’

‘Go faster,’ I commanded.

I kept talking, until he made a noise halfway between a grunt and a whimper. ‘Oh Jesus,’ he whispered. ‘Oh God. Oh God.’

I waited until his breathing slowed down. ‘Did you …?’

‘Yes.’

‘Really?’ I squealed.

Phone sex! Me? Who knew!

I was getting by on maybe four hours’ sleep a night but I was never tired. At some stage Dr Quinn rang to say that my bloods had come back and everything was normal, but I already knew that: my chronic knackeredness had totally disappeared.

These few days were like a holiday from myself, and when Mannix and I weren’t having sex, we lay in bed and talked – long, meandering rambles as we tried to catch up on two entire lives.

‘… So for five summers in a row I worked in a canning factory in Munich.’

‘Why didn’t your dad pay your university fees?’

‘He didn’t have it. He paid the first term of the first year, then asked for the money back.’

‘God! Why?’

‘Because he needed it.’

‘One day in hospital, you told me you became a doctor to please your dad. Is that true?’

‘It was more to protect Roland. I thought Dad would leave him alone if I did it.’

‘But you like it?’

‘Yeaaah … I probably haven’t the best bedside manner – but you knew that. People expect miracles just because I’ve been to university, but I can’t give them miracles and that makes me depressed. Working with stroke victims, like I do, or people with Parkinson’s – at best, I help them manage their condition. I don’t cure anyone.’

‘Right …’

‘But you were different, Stella. There was a chance that one day you’d be fully cured, that you’d be my miracle. And you were.’

I didn’t know what to say. It was nice to be someone’s miracle.

‘Why be a neurologist?’ I asked. ‘You could have been another kind of doctor?’

He laughed. ‘Because I’m squeamish. Really. I’d never have made a surgeon. And the other options? There was ophthalmology. Eyes. Eyeballs. The idea of working with them every day … Or brains … God … Or colons. I mean, would you?’

‘So what would you have preferred to do with your life? Instead of being a doctor?’

‘I don’t know. I never had a “thing”. I know it’s not a
job
-job but I’d have liked to be a dad.’

There. He’d said it – the issue we’d spent days deliberately skirting.

‘And now, Mannix?’ I asked, delicately. ‘Do you still want babies?’ We had to face this head-on.

He sighed and shifted himself, so he could look me in the eyes. ‘That ship has sailed. After Georgie and I, all the disappointments … It went on for so long, so much hope, then so much loss. But I’m at peace with it.’ He sounded surprised. ‘I’m never at peace with anything. But, yeah, I’m at peace with it. I love my nephews. I see them a lot, we have fun, and it’s enough. What about you?’

I was so mad about Mannix that the idea of a baby version of him gave me shivers; even the thought of being pregnant with his child gave me a powerful thrill.

But I knew the reality – babies were horribly hard work. Lots of women were having babies at my age and even later, but my maternal urges had been satisfied by the two children I already had.

‘I don’t think babies are going to be part of our story,’ I said.

‘And that’s okay,’ he said.

I fell silent. I was thinking about my children, about how I’d broken up their home, and how they’d never forgive me.

‘They’ll come back,’ Mannix said.

‘The timing couldn’t be worse. Only a few days after finding out Betsy is sleeping with her boyfriend … I should be there for her.’

‘You can’t if she won’t let you. And it’s all going to be okay soon.’

He was probably right. Relations between Ryan and the kids had deteriorated to the point where Jeffrey was now refusing to speak to Ryan.

‘You know,’ I said, ‘I actually, genuinely, can’t believe Betsy is sleeping with her boyfriend.’

‘But you were sleeping with your boyfriend at seventeen?’

‘Of course! Were you at it at seventeen? Don’t tell me. I don’t even have to ask. You love it, don’t you?’ I said. ‘Sex.’

He pushed himself up and gave me a look. ‘Yeah. I’m not going to lie. I … want you.’

‘And you want other people?’ I needed some idea of how much of a player he was.

‘What? You want a list?’

‘The last person you had sex with? Before me? Was it your wife?’

‘… No.’

That shut me up. I didn’t know if I could handle knowing any more. Had there been lots?

‘No,’ he said, reading my mind. ‘Anyway, you love it too.’

It all came crashing down at eleven o’clock on Friday night with a phone call from Betsy.

‘Come and get us. We’re moving back in,’ she said.

‘Right now?’

‘Totally right now.’

‘… Er … of course!’ I shifted my naked body away from Mannix’s.

‘Dad has no sense of parental responsibility,’ Betsy said. ‘We’ve been late for school every day. And now he says he can’t drive us to the places we need to go tomorrow. It’s unacceptable.’

‘Is … ah … Jeffrey coming home too?’ He still wasn’t answering my calls.

‘Yeah. But he’s seriously peed-off with you and I’m not even joking.’

‘I’ll be with you in forty-five minutes.’

‘Forty-five? Where
are
you?’

I hung up and rolled out of bed.

‘Where are you going?’ Mannix looked anxious, almost angry.

‘Home.’

‘So what happens now?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘When will I see you?’

‘I don’t know.’

As I drove up the dark, empty motorway towards Dublin, I was forced to confront thoughts that I’d kept boxed off all week. There was a right way to do things: a freshly separated mother of two proceeded with great caution with any new relationship. The man’s existence was kept secret until the woman was certain that he was a decent, reliable type who was willing to make the effort with her children, and that this thing had the potential to last the distance …

I’d done it all wrong. But everything had been fast-tracked by Jeffrey’s classmates spotting me with Mannix on the pier. And that unexpected, magical time in the holiday cottage had done for me.

Ryan opened his door wearing a sheepish smile. He was so relieved that the kids were leaving that he’d forgotten to be furious with me.

‘So! Kids!’ He waved from the door. ‘See you soon!’

‘Whatevs.’ Betsy trundled her luggage to the car and got into the passenger seat.

In silence, Jeffrey hoisted his case into the boot, then got into the back of the car.

Ryan had already shut his front door.

‘I’m saying this now,’ Betsy said, staring straight ahead.
‘And I don’t mean it because, obvs, I’m like mad with him, but he’s a really crap dad. Sorry for swearing.’

‘Saying “crap” isn’t swearing.’

‘Mom! Role model, please!’

When we got home and into the house, Betsy pulled me aside. ‘I’m totally fine, but you might want to try re-bonding with …’ She widened her eyes in the direction of the stairs that Jeffrey had disappeared up. ‘Go, Mom.’ She gave me a little smack on the bum – this was obviously my week for it – then she said, ‘Sorry! Total boundary-invasion!’

For God’s sake.

I gave it a few minutes then I went and knocked on Jeffrey’s door. He was already in his pyjamas and in bed.

‘Can I sit down?’

‘Go on, then.’ He sat up in bed and pulled the duvet to his chest. ‘Is Dr Taylor your boyfriend?’

‘I … ah, I don’t know.’

‘You were having an affair,’ Jeffrey said. ‘That’s why you and Dad split up.’

‘I wasn’t having an affair.’ I could say that honestly.

‘But what about that book? He did that ages ago.’

‘I wasn’t having an affair.’ I was like a politician. ‘I hadn’t heard from him in a long time, over a year.’

‘Does he have a wife?’

‘He did, but they’re getting divorced.’

‘Does he have kids?’

‘No.’

‘So that’s why he’s with you. Because you have kids.’

‘It’s not why.’

‘Do we have to meet him?’

‘Would you like to?’

‘We’ve met him. In the hospital.’

‘But that was long ago. Different.’

‘So he
is
your boyfriend?’

‘… Honestly, Jeffrey. I don’t know.’

‘But you
should
know. You’re the grown-up.’

He was right. I should, but I didn’t.

‘You and Dad?’ Jeffrey asked. ‘You’re never getting back together?’

A million thoughts zipped through my head. In theory,
anything
was possible – but it would be really, really unlikely. ‘No.’ I settled for. ‘No.’

‘That’s very sad …’ A tear trickled down his face.

‘Jeffrey.’ His grief was like a knife in my stomach. ‘I wish I could protect you from all pain, ever. I wish I could always tell you just happy things. This is a tough lesson for you to learn so young.’

‘You think Dr Taylor likes you. Maybe he does. But he’s not my dad. He can be your … boyfriend. But you can’t make us into a new family.’

‘Okay.’ Even as I said the word, I realized I shouldn’t make promises I couldn’t keep.

‘But if he’s going to be your boyfriend, we should meet him.’

I hadn’t been expecting that. ‘You mean, you and Betsy?’

‘And Grandma and Grandad. Auntie Karen, Uncle Enda, Auntie Zoe, everyone.’

Jeffrey gave Mannix a cold stare. ‘My dad has a Mitsubishi pick-up truck. It’s the best car ever.’

Jeffrey’s opening salvo at his first meeting with Mannix wasn’t exactly friendly.

‘It’s, ah, yeah, you’re right.’ Mannix nodded vigorously and visibly forced his limbs to look loose and sprawly. ‘It’s probably the best car ever. Pick-ups are … yeah … 
great
.’

‘What car do you have?’ Jeffrey asked.

I watched anxiously; a lot hinged on this.

‘It’s a … yeah, another Japanese car. Not as good as a Mitsubishi pick-up but –’

‘What is it?’

‘A Mazda MX-5.’

‘That’s a bit girlie.’ Jeffrey’s scorn was savage.

‘Technically, it
was
a girl’s car,’ Mannix said. ‘My ex-wife – my soon-to-be ex-wife, Georgie – it was hers. She got a new car.’

‘What did she get?’

‘An Audi A5. And she wanted me to take the Mazda.’

‘Why didn’t you get a new car too?’

‘Because, ah … the Audi cost a lot …’

‘So she gets a new Audi and you get a second-hand Mazda? Man, you’re lame.’

Mannix eyed Jeffrey. He took a while before he spoke. ‘… Sometimes it’s easier to just give in. I’m sure, as a man who lives with women, you’ll appreciate that.’

Surprise whipped across Jeffrey’s face. Suddenly he was realizing that he might have an ally in Mannix.

But later, when Mannix had gone home, I found Jeffrey sobbing in his bedroom. ‘If I like Dr Taylor?’ he choked. ‘Am I being mean to Dad?’

Over the next few weeks I introduced Mannix to my family and friends and their reactions varied. Karen was breezy and civil. Zoe didn’t want to be charmed, but she was. Mum was nervous and giggly. Dad was chummy and tried to engage Mannix in book-talk and was amazed that Mannix wasn’t much of a reader. ‘But with all your education …?’

‘I’m more of a science person.’

‘But Stella is a great reader. What do you two have in common?’

Mannix and I flicked a glance at each other and it was as if a hidden voice had started whispering,
SexSexSex.

Dad blushed and muttered something and hurried out of the room.

It was impossible to tell what Enda Mulreid thought of Mannix, because it was impossible to tell what Enda Mulreid thought of anyone. As Dad often said, ‘Plays his cards close to his chest, that fella.’ Then he always added, ‘Although he probably doesn’t play cards at all. There might be a small chance he might start
enjoying
himself.’

Betsy declared that she liked Mannix and that Tyler liked him too. ‘And Tyler’s got like a great instinct for people,’ she said, earnestly. ‘Sometimes I feel really bad that you and Dad have split up. Sometimes I wish I could go back to being a kid and for us to be the way we were. But this is life. Like you said in your book, it can’t all be bubbles and lollipops.’

I nodded anxiously: could she really be as grounded as she sounded?

‘She’s in love,’ Mannix said. ‘Everything is hearts and bunny rabbits for her, right now.’

‘Okay …’ Maybe it was as simple as that.

‘You remember what that was like?’ Mannix asked. ‘Being in love? I do. Because I’m in love –’

‘Stop!’

He recoiled and said, ‘Oooookay.’

‘Don’t say you’re in love with me. You don’t even know me. And I don’t know you.’

‘We got to know each other in hospital.’

‘A few blinked conversations? That counts for nothing. That’s not the real world. I don’t know the name for the feelings I have for you. The only thing I know for sure is that you scare me.’

‘How?’ He sounded shocked.

‘I’m terrified you’re going to overwhelm me.’

‘I won’t.’

But it was already happening.

‘Once upon a time, I loved Ryan and then I got sick and we didn’t survive it. Once upon a time, you loved Georgie, then you couldn’t have children and now you don’t love her. That tells me something.’

‘And that is?’

‘That you can’t call something love until everything goes wrong and you manage to survive it. Love isn’t hearts and flowers. And it’s not good sex. Love is about loyalty. Endurance. Soldiering on, shoulder to shoulder. The snow blowing into your face. Your feet wrapped in rags. Your nose rotting with frostbite. Your –’

‘Right, I get it. Bring on the disaster.’

‘I just mean –’

‘Really, Stella, I get it. The ball’s in your court now. I will never mention the word “love” again until you do.’