Over You (18 page)

‘Lovely,’ said Mrs Bell absent-mindedly, but she was still staring at Josie, with a look of great sadness in her eyes. ‘And I was
so
hoping for another grandchild!’ she cried.

Loaded up with newly knitted jumpers for the boys, some teeny new potatoes from Mr Bell’s garden, cold chicken and a recipe for lemon cheesecake that she’d no doubt never get round to making, Josie pulled away from her parents’ driveway in an almost crippling wash of exhaustion. Well,
that
had gone about as catastrophically wrong as it possibly could have done, she thought grimly.

Her mum had embraced her with tears in her eyes, offering to come and stay so that she could help out.

‘Thanks,’ Josie had said quickly, ‘but no thanks.’ She’d have to be desperate before she’d agree to that. Or completely la-la.

Her dad had folded her into his arms. ‘The man’s an idiot,’ he’d announced gruffly, patting Josie’s back. ‘You wait, he’ll come crawling back, tail between his legs.’

‘Yeah,’ Josie had sighed in return. ‘That’s what I’m hoping, Dad.’

Stu had hugged her too. He was younger than her by a mere eighteen months and they’d been close as children, but these days they had little in common. He was still heavily into the club scene and had a shit-hot career, complete with minimalist bachelor crash-pad in the City. ‘Take care,’ he said into her ear. ‘Want me to beat him up for you?’

He was joking, she knew, but Josie appreciated the sentiment. ‘Thanks, Stu, but I’d better pass on that one,’ she said, trying to smile.

‘Sorry, Melanie,’ she’d added, on her way out. ‘You must think this family is a bunch of nutters.’

‘No, honestly,’ Melanie protested. She smiled at Josie, and put a hand on her arm. ‘Take care of yourself. Sorry to hear you’re having a rough time,’ she said. ‘Your boys are lovely, by the way.’

‘Don’t start getting ideas, Melanie,’ Stu said warningly.

Josie had driven away feeling as if she was escaping from a bad dream. She wondered how long it would take her mum to get on the phone to her cronies.
You’ll never
guess what. I can’t believe it! My little girl, a divorcee! A single mum! You could have knocked me down with a feather . . .

Christ. Her mum would milk it until it was dry. It would be poor-me the whole way, forget how Josie was feeling.

Josie sighed. And now she was back home again, and it was all the same. That was the problem. It just went on being the same. Why wasn’t she feeling any better? Why did she still feel so utterly crap?

‘Help me,’ she muttered to her bedroom ceiling. She was lying flat on her back, feeling as if all her spirit and energy had drained away. She was too tired to go and investigate what the boys were up to, even though they were being suspiciously quiet. She couldn’t even think what she was going to make for their tea. How was she ever going to fight for her relationship when she felt so weak and punched-out?

‘Somebody help me,’ she said, pulling a pillow over her head. ‘I can’t do this any more. I just can’t.’

Then the doorbell rang.

Josie sat up. Even that was an effort. Jehovah’s Witnesses, probably. Nobody popped round on a Sunday, did they? Unless it was . . .

‘Mum!’ the boys shouted. ‘Door!’

Josie’s heart pounded as she got to her feet and headed for the stairs. Unless it was Pete. Could it be Pete?

He’d changed his mind. Seeing the boys had made him realize how much he missed them. And her . . .

Her throat was tight as she ran to the door. She fumbled with the latch and pulled it open. And stared.

‘Josie – I hope you don’t mind me turning up like this, but—’

‘Nell!’ It was like a mirage, seeing her there on the doorstep.

‘I tried ringing earlier but it was engaged, so . . .’ Nell broke off, leaning forwards to stare at Josie. ‘Are you all right? You look really pale.’

Was she all right? Oh God. Why did Nell have to ask that?

Josie’s shoulders slumped with the weight of the question. That bloody awful question! She shook her head silently and stepped back so that Nell could come in. Was she all right? No, she wasn’t. She was a million miles from all right.

‘What’s happened?’ Nell asked, dropping her bags and stepping swiftly over to hug her. ‘Babe – what is it?’

‘He’s . . .’ The words stuck in Josie’s throat. It had been a whole week now and it was still so hard to say it each time. She leaned her head on Nell’s shoulder. ‘He’s gone. Pete. He’s left me.’

Nell stiffened in shock. ‘
What?
’

Josie sighed. ‘Don’t make me say it again,’ she begged. ‘He—’

‘Mum, who was at the door? Who’s that?’

Sam had come into the hall with a fireman’s helmet and light-sabre, and was staring unblinkingly at Nell, resplendent in her scarlet mini-dress and wedge-heeled sandals, as if she was an exotic bird that had just flown in from the rainforest.

‘It’s me, Nell, your mum’s friend,’ Nell said with a wide smile. ‘Remember? Last time I came here we made a camp outside in the garden. No?’ She shrugged. ‘I suppose it was a year ago. Are you Sam or Toby, by the way? Let me guess . . . Toby!’

Sam shook his head, then disappeared again.

Nell took Josie’s hand. ‘I’ve turned up at completely the wrong time, haven’t I?’ she said apologetically. ‘Sorry. Do you want me to go, and leave you in peace?’

Josie shook her head. ‘No, I’m glad you’re here,’ she said. ‘Stay, I don’t want peace.’ She swallowed. ‘I want company. I feel like I’m sleepwalking, like this is not really happening. I was just saying before you got here, “Help me, somebody help me.”’ A tear slid down her face, then another. ‘I don’t know what to do. I feel like I can’t keep going any longer. I still can’t take it in, I . . .’ She forced a feeble smile on to her face, even if it was the merest shadow of a smile. ‘And I really don’t want to do Ten Reasons Why He Was a Wanker Anyway either.’

‘No,’ Nell said. ‘Course you don’t. Oh God. I can’t believe it, Jose. What happened? Why did he go?’

Josie cast a furtive look towards the living room. The boys seemed to be playing
Star Wars
, which usually kept them engrossed for ages. ‘Come in the kitchen,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell you all about it.’

Once in the kitchen, Nell steered Josie to the table and made her sit down while she filled the kettle. ‘I’m not ill,’ Josie protested. ‘I can make you a—’

‘No, you can’t,’ Nell said. ‘Least I can do, barging in on you like this. So what’s happened with Pete? Do the boys know?’

‘A bit,’ Josie replied. ‘Pete took them out yesterday and told them he wasn’t going to live with us any more. That he was in love with someone else.’

‘Jesus Ker-rist,’ Nell said, looking appalled. ‘Fucking Nora. Sorry. I mean – how are they handling it? Did they freak out?’

Josie shook her head. ‘Not really. They did ask me if Pete didn’t love
them
any more.’ A pang of guilt hit her at the thought of Sam’s anxious face turning to her in the bath. ‘It was
awful
. But . . . I don’t know. It’s hard to gauge. I guess it’s going to take a while to sink in.’

‘Here you are,’ Nell said, stirring milk into Josie’s coffee and plonking it down in front of her. ‘Biscuits? Toast? Anything else I can get for you?’

‘No,’ Josie replied. She was still full of roast chicken. She sipped her coffee and took a deep breath. ‘Guess what else?’ she said. ‘It gets worse. Pete told me about Lisa. They
did
have an affair.’

‘Oh my God,’ Nell breathed. Her eyes glittered and she sat down, an odd expression on her face. ‘You know . . . I wish I could tell you that surprises me, but it doesn’t,’ she said. ‘I was kind of wondering if that was coming.’ She reached over and took Josie’s hand. ‘The cow. I can’t believe she did that. And so . . . What? He’s left you for
her
?’

Josie shook her head glumly. ‘Oh no. That was just for starters. That was all in the past, he said, but I don’t know when. No, he’s gone off with someone else now.’ To her surprise, a hollow laugh fell out of her mouth. ‘Talk about Casanova. There was me thinking I’d married Mr Committed, and all the time I was shacked up with Mr Lover-Lover.’ Then she looked up, only just registering what Nell had said. ‘What do you mean, anyway? About not being surprised?’

Nell grimaced. ‘Just . . . the photo thing, when we were at Lisa’s. I did think it was weird,’ she confessed. ‘I didn’t want to say so at the time, because I knew it would send you into a flap, but it did make me wonder if Lisa fancied him.’ She put a hand on Josie’s. ‘You know, it might just have been a shag. Just one stupid shag. We’ve all done it.’

Josie couldn’t help glaring at the photo on the kitchen noticeboard, a black and white wedding photo of her and Pete, their faces turned towards each other. ‘I haven’t,’ she said fiercely. ‘Not since I got married, anyway. Being married is supposed to change all that one-stupid-shag stuff, isn’t it?’

Nell nodded. ‘It’s supposed to,’ she agreed. There was a pause. ‘So where’s Pete now? Who’s this other woman?’

‘Sabine,’ Josie replied tonelessly. ‘And he says he’s in love with her.’

‘Oh fuck,’ Nell said. ‘Oh God, what a nightmare.’ She sipped her coffee, her eyes on Josie. ‘But this might just be a blip, right?’ she said after a moment. ‘I mean, this whole thing just shrieks of mid-life crisis. Totally. Give him a few days and he’ll be back, begging you to forgive him.’

Josie glanced up again at the wedding photo, then snatched her gaze away as if it hurt her eyes. ‘I keep telling myself that,’ she said quietly. ‘And everyone else keeps telling me it too. But I don’t know if I’m just . . . you know, in denial. Because maybe he really has gone. When I spoke to him the other day he was pretty definite about it. So . . .’ She shrugged. ‘So maybe I’m just kidding myself. Maybe this is it, end of. Maybe we’ll be getting divorced.’

‘Don’t go there,’ Nell interrupted. ‘Don’t think about that at the moment. Just bunker down and get through this. We can look after each other.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘It’ll be just like when I split up with Dave and you split up with Nick, remember? All that crying and chocolate in front of
Pretty Woman
, and then jetting off to Cyprus for our girly holiday?’

‘Well . . . kind of,’ Josie said. She tried to smile back at her friend, who was so well-meaning, but she knew already that Pete leaving was in a different league.

Toby clattered into the kitchen just then, Darth Vader helmet on, swishing his light-sabre through the air as if he were a demented majorette.

‘Careful, love,’ Josie said as he whacked one of the chairs with a plasticky thump. She flinched, as if she were the one to receive the whacking.

THWACK!
‘I . . . am . . . your . . . father!’

‘Use the force!’ Nell said.

‘But not too much force,’ Josie added as he approached, breathing heavily, pointing his light-sabre at her. ‘Come here, Darth. Come and give your old mum a cuddle.’

‘Darth . . . Vader . . . doesn’t . . . cuddle . . . anyone,’ he intoned spookily, and she pulled his helmet off and grabbed him.

‘Toby Winter does, though, luckily for me,’ she said, wrapping her arms around him until he squealed. She kissed his nose – Pete’s nose, it was an exact replica – and felt engulfed by sadness again.

Nell was looking over at her. ‘Hey, Tobes, want to show me your footie skills?’ she asked quickly. ‘Bet you can’t score past me. Did you know I used to be goalkeeper for England?’

Toby looked interested. ‘Really? Did you?’ he asked.

Nell winked at him. ‘Not really,’ she admitted, ‘but I am pretty handy in a penalty shoot-out.’ She tilted her head towards the garden. ‘I spotted your goal out there. Fancy your chances, do you?’

Toby dropped his light-sabre with a clunk, and it rolled under the table. ‘Sam! Sam!’ he shouted, wriggling free of Josie and rushing to find his brother. ‘Come and play football with that lady, Nell!’

Nell put a hand on Josie’s shoulder. ‘I’ll take them in the garden for a bit,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you go and have a kip? I can always make tea for them later if you want to sleep awhile.’

Josie nodded gratefully, her eyes wet. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I feel like a zombie.’

‘Get under your duvet at once then,’ Nell ordered. ‘And don’t come out again until I say you can.’

Josie felt light-headed and woozy as she got to her feet. The whole week seemed like a long, horrible dream that she was trapped in – the sleepless nights, Fulton’s Farm, the disastrous dinner at her parents’ . . .

She wanted it to stop, this crazy rollercoaster of emotion that had taken over her nice normal world. She wanted to get off now and catch her breath. When was it going to stop?

Cyprus had been Nell’s idea. They’d both just been dumped, and were thoroughly gutted about it. After a couple of depressing nights of vodka-fuelled rounds of Ten Reasons (‘Number one – he was so stingy with his cash. Remember when he bought me an Iceland own-brand Easter egg at Easter?’ ‘Tosser!’), Nell had had a brainwave.

‘What is the point,’ she’d slurred from her position on the sofa, where she’d been for the last forty-eight hours, ‘of being pissed off in shitty London when we can be pissed off in the sun?’