An Autumn Affair (22 page)

Julia swiped up her purchases, shoved them back in their carrier bag and tossed it in the bottom of the wardrobe. No, as nice as her short-lived fantasy with Max had been, it had to stop. Now. She loved her children and they needed her more than Max ever would. That much had been made perfectly clear over the last few days. Okay, so bringing them up hadn’t been a barrel of laughs. And they were far from perfect, but they were still young, still trying to figure out who they really were.

And the fact that they’d been such hard work wasn’t entirely their fault. Julia had been clueless when they’d come along. Far too young and unprepared. But, on the whole, she and Paul hadn’t done too bad a job. They were good kids at heart. As for her marriage, though … that was a different kettle of fish altogether. Paul obviously didn’t need her. Not now he had Natalia. And Julia had no desire to be a spare part. So … there was only one thing to do …

*****

‘So how was the funeral? Or is that a stupid question?’

Sitting at the kitchen island in Buttersley Hall, Miranda pushed a plate of Annie O’Donnell’s triple chocolate chip cookies over to Julia, before sitting down opposite her new friend and wrapping her hands around her mug of coffee.

‘It was … interesting,’ she replied. ‘To see just what a valued member of the community Dad was. I had no idea he was involved in so many things. But then again, why would I? I all but abandoned them.’

‘Hey,’ said Julia, reaching for a biscuit. ‘Don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m sure he knew you loved him.’

Miranda shrugged. ‘I doubt it, the way I’ve been acting like a spoiled brat all these years. But at least it’s not too late to try to make amends with Mum. I’ve asked her if she wants to come here and live with us.’

‘And what did she say?’

‘She’s thinking about it.’

Julia nodded. ‘Not much else you can do then.’

Miranda cleared her throat. She’d been building up to asking Julia something, and if she didn’t do it now, she might just bottle it altogether.

‘Um, look. Just say no if you think this is a bit weird. But I was thinking of planting a rose bush in the garden. In memory of the baby. It didn’t seem right asking Doug to come with me to the garden centre to choose something, but I wondered, if you wouldn’t mind …’

Julia looked up at her and smiled. ‘I’d be honoured.’

Miranda wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m not sure if it’s a bit morbid or not, but I’d like something to remember her by. I’m sure it was a girl.’

‘I think it’s a lovely idea,’ said Julia. ‘Do you want to go when we finish our coffee?’

Miranda nodded, a grin spreading across her face. ‘If that’s okay with you.’

*****

Going to the garden centre with Miranda proved a sobering experience, and made Julia appreciate just how lucky she was to have two healthy children. Indeed, as unlikely as it had seemed following their first unpleasant encounter, Miranda was actually proving something of an inspiration to Julia. And knowing just how brave she’d been in confessing all to her husband made Julia all the more determined to sort things out with Paul. This evening. Immediately after dinner. And, along with a mushroom risotto, she’d prepared a very considered and reasoned speech.

*****

As Paul drove home that evening his heart rate increased with every mile. He had determined to speak to Julia immediately after dinner. Tell her they couldn’t go on like this any longer. Put all his cards on the table. To say he was scared was putting it mildly. Terrified would be a much more accurate description. He only hoped, after the unpredictable way she’d been acting lately, that she didn’t chase him around the kitchen with the frying pan.

Julia was in a particularly strange mood when Paul arrived home. She was being most … polite. On her best behaviour. Exactly how she’d act if they had new neighbours round for dinner. She’d even asked how his day had been. A rare occurrence indeed. All of this … courteousness … did not help Paul’s nerves at all. In an effort to bring some semblance of normality to the proceedings, he’d tried chatting to the kids. But Faye, too, was acting strangely. Doing everything she could to help with the meal. Even offering to empty the dishwasher later. Paul had never known anything like it. Leo, meanwhile, after his recent to-do, didn’t have time to talk. He was too busy polishing off the remains of the rice pudding. Shovelling it in like there was no tomorrow. It was all most … bizarre. And it didn’t stop there.

The rice pudding completely decimated, the table cleared by his overenthusiastic daughter, and the dishwasher whirring away doing its stuff, the kids wandered off, leaving Paul and Julia alone in the kitchen.

‘Coffee?’ Julia asked, wiping down the kitchen bench.

Coffee?
They never had coffee after dinner. Something was seriously amiss here. And why was she wiping down that kitchen bench again? Paul had watched her do it three times already.

‘Er, no thanks,’ he muttered, running a finger under the rim of his collar. His palms were sweating so much he couldn’t have held a cup of coffee, even if he’d wanted to. He had to bite the bullet. And he had to do it now. If he didn’t, he suspected his courage might go AWOL, never to return. His eyes scanned the room for the frying pan. It was on the draining board, Faye having vigorously scrubbed it. He wondered if Julia would notice if he slipped out and locked it in the boot of his car, but quickly dismissed the idea as being ludicrous. There’s no way his own wife would bash him over the head with it. Would she? Well, there was only one way to find out.

‘Why don’t you sit down?’ he suggested, his throat suddenly feeling like someone had shovelled two tons of sand into it. ‘There’s, um, something I’d like to talk to you about.’

Turning to face him, Julia leaned against the bench, fiddling with the Bart Simpson tea towel. ‘Well, er, that’s good because there’s something I’d like to talk to you about, too.’

Paul’s heart sank. He really just wanted to get this over and done with. Make it as painless as possible. But whatever Julia intended saying couldn’t be half as serious as the news he was about to break, so he’d have to let her go first.

‘Well, come and sit down and tell me what it is,’ he said.

Looking the most awkward Paul had ever seen her in her entire life, Julia slid into the chair opposite his.

‘I, er, don’t really know where to start,’ she mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

‘How about at the beginning,’ suggested Paul, it suddenly occurring to him that this might be more serious than he thought.

Julia nodded, still fiddling with the tea towel.

‘Right. Well … you know before we met that I had a relationship with a guy called Max …’

She glanced up at him for confirmation. Increasingly intrigued, he nodded.

‘… well, I bumped into him recently. In the supermarket. In the cereal aisle.’

Paul furrowed his forehead. What the hell did the cereal aisle have to do with anything?

‘I’ve seen him a few times since,’ she ploughed on, directing her speech to the tea towel in her hands. ‘And it’s made me realise that I’m just not happy, Paul. That life has passed me by in one big child-caring blur. I’ve lost sight of the real me.’ She raised her eyes and met his increasingly bemused gaze. ‘You said yourself you only see me as a wife and a mother. Well, I feel like now is the time for me to branch out and do something for myself. I’m still young enough. And I’ve never felt more ready for anything in my entire life.’

Evidently finished, she began smoothing the tea towel out on the table top. Bart Simpson stared up at Paul as if waiting for his reaction. Paul, too, was waiting for his reaction. He didn’t know what to feel. He didn’t, if he was perfectly honest, quite understand what was going on here.

‘So … what exactly are you saying? That you’re leaving me? For this Max?’

Julia shook her head. ‘No. Max has nothing to do with it. He’s just brought me to my senses. I don’t want to just trundle along like we have been doing. I want more from life. And I need to do it by myself. To discover who I am, rather than being an appendage to someone else.’

Paul couldn’t speak. He felt exactly as he had all those years ago when Julia had announced she was pregnant. The situation was surreal. There he was, all ready to confess about him and Natalia, and tell Julia
he
wanted to break up, and here she was doing it for him.

‘So you … you want us to separate?’

She nodded. ‘I’m just not happy. And neither are you.’

Paul opened and closed his mouth. ‘I, er, …’

‘What was it you wanted to talk to me about? Was it Natalia?’

He nodded.

‘You’re having an affair with her?’

He nodded again.

‘Well, I’ve done you a favour then, haven’t I? Ready for that coffee now?’

Paul looked down at a beaming Bart Simpson.

And nodded again.

Epilogue

Six Months Later

Julia set down her suitcase and flopped back on the bed. She was exhausted. This had been her third trip to Madrid in the last month. Not that she was complaining. She’d loved every minute of it. Courtesy of her fab new website, she’d been inundated with requests from all sorts of companies, dealing with everything from fireplaces to underwear catalogues. She’d never been busier. And she had Paul to thank for a lot of it. He’d been brilliant helping her set up her freelance translating business, even recommending her to a new company he was dealing with in Madrid.

Ironically, since the separation, she and Paul were getting on better than they had for years. She still loved him – but, as corny as it sounded, she wasn’t ‘in love’ with him. She knew he was still seeing Natalia and she was happy for him. Why wouldn’t she be, when she’d never been happier in her entire life?

It had taken that chance meeting with Max in the supermarket to make Julia realise that she’d been a passive participant in her life. That she’d sleepwalked through the last twenty years. Things had
happened
to her, but she hadn’t actually
done
anything herself. And not only that, she’d never stood on her own two feet as an adult. Never been independent. Okay, so it might be twenty years late, but at least she now had the opportunity to prove something to herself. To take charge of her life and direct it in the way she wanted it to go. And separating from Paul had given her the strength and the motivation to do just that.

The twins had been brilliant about the separation. Although slightly bewildered at first, they’d soon adjusted. Faye really seemed to be getting her act together, even talking about going to university. Julia was proud of her. And had told her so. In fact, since the Spanish incident, she’d begun to realise just how difficult it must be for Faye living in Leo’s capable shadow. So Julia was now making every effort to build up her daughter’s confidence. And her efforts were paying dividends. The two of them had even started going to salsa classes together.

Leo was also doing well. Eating again and exercising sensibly. Following his fainting fit, the revered Betsy had taken him under her wing. The two of them were ‘training’ together. Quite what that involved, Julia didn’t like to ask. But Leo seemed happy and that was all that mattered.

And then, of course, there was Max. He was making her dinner later. At his apartment. Her stomach began fizzing, just as it did every time they were due to meet. Or every time he called her. Or every time she even thought about him. Just as it had when she’d been a teenager. Pathetic really. But amazing, all the same. She’d decided, at exactly the same time she’d been making her other momentous decision, that they should stop seeing each other. But this time Max hadn’t given up. We’ll just have a break, he’d suggested. Phone me in a few weeks – if you want to. And Julia had. She’d missed him in the ensuing four weeks. During which time she’d concluded that she didn’t want to lose him again. That what they had was far too special.

She hadn’t mentioned him to the twins yet. For all they were coping remarkably well with their change in circumstances, it was still a lot for them to deal with. As indeed it was for Julia’s head. So she and Max had agreed to take it slowly. Very slowly. They’d see each other once a week, but spoke daily on the phone. This particular trip, though, Julia had found herself missing him more than ever.

Jumping off the bed, she strode over to the wardrobe and began rooting around until she pulled out the carrier bag containing the sexy silk lingerie she’d bought what now seemed like decades ago.

Perhaps tonight would be the perfect time to give it its first airing. Because, courtesy of her new-found independence and her burgeoning confidence, she felt, for the first time in her life, that she might just be good enough for Max Burrell after all.

*****

On the bus to college, Faye pulled a copy of
Hello!
magazine from her bag and then, making sure no one was looking, tugged out her book and slid it between the magazine pages. She still had her street cred to consider, after all. And it really wasn’t cool to be seen reading Shakespeare. But, over the last few months, Faye had become addicted.

She hadn’t seen much of Josie since the Spanish saga. Josie’s wrist had been badly broken during the fall down the steps, and it would be ages before she could play tennis again. Every time Faye saw her, she felt so guilty that she’d decided to keep out of the way for a while. So, in the absence of any better alternatives, Faye had turned to her college work. And discovered, much to her own amazement, that she couldn’t get enough of Shakespeare.

Hamlet
was by far her favourite. It was completely awesome. So awesome that she’d even booked a ticket to see a live version of it at the theatre next month. And, having read that play three times, she’d proceeded to devour
A
Midsummer Night’s Dream
,
Much Ado About Nothing
and, her current reading matter,
The Merchant of Venice
.

And, not only that, but she was considering applying to uni to study English literature. At Leeds or Sheffield. In other words, not too far away from home. Amongst many other things, her Spanish adventure had shown her that she wasn’t as prepared for the world as she’d once thought. And she didn’t want to be too far away from her mum – or, although she’d never admit it to another living soul, Leo – who had also applied to Sheffield.