Read The Marriage Mender Online
Authors: Linda Green
‘She’ll want to come too.’
‘I’ll explain to her that she can’t.’
‘OK. Saturday afternoon, then. I’ll text her. I don’t want to speak to her. Not before I’ve actually met her. I think it’s better that way.’
I nodded. ‘Sure. Just let me know when you’ve got a time sorted.’
‘Will you tell Dad?’
I nodded again.
‘And are you sure he won’t be mad at me?’
‘He won’t. I promise.’
He nodded and walked out of the kitchen.
A few seconds later, I heard him going upstairs, his footsteps seemingly lighter than they had been the day before.
* * *
I waited until we were lying in bed at night to tell Chris. I felt his body tense next to mine. He said nothing. I took his hand. It felt colder than usual.
‘He might only see her the once,’ I said.
‘And then again, he might not.’
‘We don’t know how long she’ll be around. Or if she’ll want to see him again. She might find it too upsetting.’
I knew even before the last word had fully left my mouth that I’d said the wrong thing.
‘What’s she got to be upset about?’ said Chris, turning to look at me with a frown.
‘What I meant to say is, it’s not going to be easy for her, seeing him after all this time.’
‘It was her choice to leave, remember.’
‘Yes, but we all do things we regret, don’t we?’
‘Name one of yours.’
I thought for a minute. The only thing I could think of was wasting too many years with Matthew when I should have realised the relationship wasn’t going anywhere. But I wasn’t going to say that. One ex was enough in this conversation.
‘OK, so maybe I haven’t got anything as big as that, but you know what I mean. Let’s just leave it and see how the first meeting goes.’
Chris said nothing. He let go of a small sigh. ‘This is doing my head in,’ he whispered.
I slipped my arm around him, kissed him gently on the shoulder. ‘I’m not surprised. It’s a massive thing. It’s doing Josh’s head in as well, mind.’
‘I don’t know what to say to him.’
‘Well, just say something. He thinks you’re mad at him for wanting to see her.’
‘Did he say that?’
I nodded.
‘OK. I’ll talk to him tomorrow. I thought I’d had all the awkward conversations with him when he was a kid. I didn’t think we’d ever have to go through all this again. It’s going to be on a whole new level now.’
‘He needs you, though, love. You’re the one constant
thing in his life. Just let him know you understand that he wants to see her.’
Chris turned and stared up at the ceiling. ‘I do,’ he said. ‘I understand completely. I’m scared, that’s all.’
‘Of what?’
‘That she’ll take him away from me.’
‘Of course she won’t. She couldn’t. Nobody could break what you two have.’
‘Nobody except a mother.’
‘He doesn’t know her. He can’t remember a thing about her. You’re the one who’s been there for him every step of the way. You’re the one he relies on. He’s not going to forget that simply because she’s finally putting in an appearance, is he?’
‘I guess not,’ he said.
‘I know not,’ I replied, putting my arms around him.
Chris gave a tentative smile. Kissed me on the lips. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you,’ he whispered.
‘Well, that’s the one thing you don’t have to worry about,’ I said.
He kissed me again. Harder this time. And with the type of intensity which was fuelled by insecurity. It didn’t matter what sparked it, though. What mattered was the connection. And what kept it burning. He moved his hand down between my legs. I arched my back and bit the pillow to stop myself moaning too loudly. I was lost to him. I always had been, right from the beginning.
Soon he would be inside me. And the connection would be strengthened again.
I actually stay up watching crap TV at night, just to avoid going to bed at the same time as him. Because I can’t bear for him to touch me or to breathe over me or even to speak to me. He makes my skin crawl.
And that’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I mean, who’d want to live like that?
And I think I’ve just woken up to the fact that I don’t have to live like that because, yes, I might spend the rest of my life on my own and die a sad and lonely old woman. But at least I’ll be able to go to bed when I want to.
I waited until the following Saturday morning to have ‘the conversation’ with Matilda, venturing into her room while she was playing. She hadn’t reached the age yet where she wanted a lock on her door or even when you had to knock to enter. She welcomed any visitors. The only danger was of being talked to death.
‘I’m doing Sooty and Sweep,’ she said from behind her puppet theatre. ‘You can do Soo, if you like.’
I blamed Chris for our retro child. And the fact that there were far too many copies of classic seventies children’s shows available on eBay.
‘Actually, love, I wanted to have a chat with you about something.’
‘Yeah?’ she said, still inside the puppet theatre.
I sat down on her bed and patted the duvet next to me. ‘Come and sit here.’
She did as she was asked. Still with Sooty and Sweep on her hands, mind. It was like one of those softly, softly police interviews with children where they get them to talk about difficult things with the aid of puppets.
‘I’m taking Josh to meet someone this afternoon,’ I said, desperately trying to locate a casual, by-the-by tone.
‘Who?’ asked Matilda.
‘Remember that lady who came to the house with Josh’s present?’
Matilda nodded.
‘Her.’
‘Why are you seeing her again? Has she got another present for Josh?’
‘No, love. We’re seeing her because she’s actually an important person in Josh’s life. Someone from a long time ago.’
Matilda stared at me blankly. I was going to have to spell it out.
‘You know that I’m not Josh’s mummy? That he had a different mummy, but he doesn’t remember her because she left when he was a baby?’
She nodded again. I took hold of her hand – or Sweep, to be more precise.
‘Well, that lady who came to the door is his real mummy. Her name is Lydia.’
Matilda stared at me for a moment, a slight frown creasing her forehead. ‘Is she going to be his real mummy again? Is Josh going to go and live with her?’
‘No, love,’ I said, giving her hand a squeeze. ‘She just
wants to meet him. And Josh has decided that he’d like to meet her too.’
She remained staring at me. I could almost hear the cogs turning.
‘Why did she go away when he was little?’
‘It’s complicated. I don’t really know for sure. She must have had some kind of problem.’
‘But why couldn’t Daddy help her?’
‘It doesn’t always work like that, love,’ I said, stroking her hair.
‘You don’t know, do you?’
‘No.’ I smiled. ‘That’s why we’re going to meet her. Josh has got lots of questions for her too.’
‘Can I come?’
‘I’m sorry, love. It’s important that Josh gets a chance to talk to her on his own.’
‘But you’re going.’
‘Just to make sure he’s OK.’
‘Is she a stranger danger?’
I sighed and cursed whatever it was they talked about in circle time at school. ‘No, love. I just want to be there for Josh. It’s a big deal for him.’
‘So who’s going to look after me?’
‘Daddy. He’s going to take you to the cinema. What was that film you wanted to see?’
A huge smile spread across her face. ‘
Paranorman
. Really, am I going to see
Paranorman
?’
I nodded.
‘Can I go now?’
‘In half an hour or so,’ I said.
‘Woo hoo!’
She danced around the room with Sooty and Sweep. I waited a moment in case there were any more questions.
‘Can I make a zombie puppet when I get back?’ she asked.
I smiled and nodded. Clearly, there were more pressing things on her mind.
* * *
I was about to leave when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. ‘Mumsy’ was the word which sprang to mind. Well-worn cardigan, tunic (to hide the fact that I had never regained my waist after Matilda), coupled with jeans which were just jeans, not any particular type of jeans. It wouldn’t usually have bothered me but I still had the image of Lydia in my head from our front doorstep. It wasn’t that I wanted to outdo her. She was clearly in an entirely different league to me. It was simply that I wanted to be able to sit at the same table as her without feeling that I was a member of an entirely different species.
I ran back upstairs and riffled through my wardrobe. I opted for leggings instead of jeans. I wasn’t sure they made much difference so I put on a different tunic as well. And when that didn’t help much, I removed the cardigan. I would wear a jacket instead. A jacket would help.
I went downstairs. Josh was waiting in the hallway. He was wearing jeans, a T-shirt and a hoody and was effortlessly hip with it. I tried to recall whether I’d been the
slightest bit hip at his age. If I had, it certainly hadn’t been effortless.
He glanced up at me. ‘Where’s your cardigan?’ he asked.
He didn’t mean it nastily, I knew that. I also knew that Chris would have cracked up laughing, had he heard it.
‘I’m wearing a jacket,’ I replied, hooking one off the coat stand.
He shrugged and opened the door. He looked even paler than usual.
‘Are you OK?’ I asked.
‘Yeah,’ he said. He didn’t sound too sure, though.
‘Remember what Dad said. He’s OK with you seeing her.’
‘I know. It still feels wrong, though. Like I’m consorting with the enemy.’
‘She’s not the enemy.’
Josh looked up at me. ‘Then why have I been hating her all these years?’
* * *
Lydia was already there when we arrived. I saw her through the glass as we approached the Milk Bar. Sitting on a high stool near the window, like some strategically placed mannequin designed to bring the punters in. There was something of the sixties about her. The long, straight limbs and the eyeliner. Her posture, even. I had no doubt that, pre-smoking ban, she would have been puffing away on a cigarette. She used to chain-smoke. Chris had told me that once. He’d blamed her for getting him started. And been cross with her for starting up again after Josh was
born, though he’d managed to kick the habit for good by then.
I glanced at Josh as we entered; his eyes were already on her. He was like a kid seeing an object of beauty for the first time. His mouth gaping slightly, his movements awkward and uncertain. We walked over to her. She was engrossed in the review section of the
Guardian
. And she had the air of someone who knew she didn’t need to look out for anyone, because she would be spotted first.
‘Hi,’ I said.
She looked up, and her gaze passed straight over me to Josh. I saw the tears rush to her eyes, saw her swallow hard and look as if she might collapse for a moment. She didn’t, though.
She slid down from her stool and smiled at him. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Thanks for coming.’
A second later she had her arms around him. Not a big, embarrassing mother-bear-of-a-hug but a seemingly casual good-to-see-you embrace.
Josh stepped back and glanced at me, as if to check that physical contact with his own mother was acceptable. I smiled at him, keen to reassure him that it was all right.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ I asked Lydia.
‘No, I’m fine, thanks,’ she said, pointing to a half-drunk cup of black coffee in front of her.
‘What would you like, Josh?’
‘A Coke, please,’ he replied.
I nodded and went up to order. I glanced back over at them a couple of times. Josh had climbed up on the stool
next to Lydia. They appeared to be talking to each other. I wondered if anyone looking at them would think they were mother and son. Probably not. She looked too hip to be anyone’s mother.
I walked back to them, put my tea and Josh’s Coke down and wriggled up on to the stool in what I hoped was a not too embarrassing fashion. Lydia looked across at me as if seeing me for the first time. I wondered what she made of me. Whether she was wondering how the hell Chris had ended up with someone like me.
‘Thanks for letting Josh come,’ she said. ‘And I’m sorry for turning up out of the blue like that.’
‘It’s OK,’ I said. ‘It was just a bit of a shock, that’s all.’
‘Well, please pass on my apologies to Chris. I didn’t mean to freak him out.’
‘Sure,’ I replied, trying to ignore the fact that the way she said Chris’s name made my stomach twist inside.
‘Your daughter’s beautiful,’ she said. ‘Her eyes are gorgeous.’
I smiled, aware that any compliment on Matilda’s eyes would also apply to Chris’s. ‘Thanks,’ I said.
‘She’s crazy, actually,’ said Josh. ‘And incredibly loud and nosey.’
Lydia smiled. ‘Bet you love her really.’
‘Course I do,’ he said. ‘She’s my sister.’
His words hung in the air for a moment. Lydia took a sip of coffee.
‘Thanks for Josh’s present,’ I said.
‘That’s OK, he’s already thanked me.’
‘He gave it to her when she worked for Mercury Records, in London,’ said Josh. ‘She got to hang out with him for a bit. How awesome is that?’
‘Fantastic,’ I said.
‘I knew I’d give it to him one day, you see,’ Lydia explained. ‘I was just waiting for the time to be right.’
I nodded. Avoiding the temptation to ask why the time was right now.
‘So have you moved back to the area?’ I asked.
‘Yeah. Only last week. I’m renting a little flat in Hebden, nothing special. It’s good to be back, though. This valley’s still the place I consider to be home.’
I nodded. Did my best to smile. Any thoughts of this being a fleeting reappearance had just disappeared. I realised I didn’t even know where she was from originally. Her accent was definitely a northern one but it had a London drawl mixed in which made it hard to pin down.
‘So you actually used to live at our house?’ asked Josh.
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘For about four years. Which is your bedroom now? Still the wonky one at the back?’
‘Yeah,’ he replied.
‘I always liked that room,’ she said. ‘Such a beautiful view too.’
‘Must have been weird,’ said Josh. ‘Seeing the house again after so long.’
‘It was. It felt like I was in some kind of time warp where a place has stayed exactly the same but all the people have moved on and changed.’
She glanced at me as she finished the sentence. Maybe
she hadn’t figured on a new woman being there. Maybe she thought Chris would have been a single parent all these years. Living there alone with Josh. She clearly hadn’t expected to see another child there.
I wanted to ask her so much. To try to get answers to all the questions which were hammering away inside my head. I didn’t feel I could, though. Not in front of Josh.
‘So how did you meet Chris?’ Lydia asked me.
I stared at her. I hadn’t been expecting anything quite so direct. But then I hadn’t stopped to think that she would have questions too. That she would want to fill in all the gaps of the people she had left behind.
‘Through Josh, really. Chris used to bring him to the library where I worked.’
‘She did these really cool kids’ events,’ said Josh. ‘Like a
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
day where we got to make Violet Beauregarde paper chains and eat Willy Wonka chocolates that she made.’
I found myself blushing unexpectedly. Warmed by Josh’s memories and my own memories of meeting Chris for the first time.
‘So you’re a librarian,’ said Lydia.
She didn’t say it patronisingly. It was just how the word always came out.
‘Not any more,’ I said. ‘I’m a counsellor now.’
‘Right. What made you switch to that?’
I was unnerved by her questions. I’d only just met the woman, and I certainly wasn’t about to go into details about my parents’ marriage.
‘Just something I’d always fancied doing,’ I said.
‘And is your dad still a photographer?’ she asked Josh, as if sensing that she’d get more information from him.
‘Yeah. He’s got a studio in town. Does portraits and that.’
‘Oh, so he’s given up the newspapers, then?’
For the first time that afternoon I felt riled on Chris’s behalf. ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Deadlines and a baby didn’t really mix.’
She nodded. Maybe she squirmed a bit. Or perhaps it was my imagination.
‘So what about you?’ I asked, deciding not to let her ask all the questions. ‘Are you still working in the music industry?’
‘Yeah, off and on,’ she said. ‘Only on a freelance basis these days.’
‘Who have you met?’ asked Josh.
Lydia smiled and flicked back her hair. ‘Loads of people you’ve probably never heard of.’
I looked at Josh’s face. It was the first time she’d said something that hadn’t gone down well.
‘I knew who Joe Strummer was,’ he said. ‘I know loads of stuff from the seventies and eighties. Dad’s still got all his LPs.’
Lydia bit her lip, looked out of the window for a moment. ‘Of course,’ she said, turning back to Josh. ‘I should have realised. Will Keith Richards do you for starters?’
Josh grinned. He had that childlike expression on his face again. She had redeemed herself and she was now
going to regale him with tales of music legends she had once lent a cigarette lighter to.
He was hers now. She might as well have offered him Turkish delight.
* * *
‘What was your mum like?’ asked Matilda when we got back home later.
Josh glanced up at Chris before answering. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘She knows a lot about music stuff.’
‘Is she going to come here?’ asked Matilda.
Josh didn’t answer.
‘Probably not, love,’ I said. ‘At least, not for now.’
‘Why? Don’t you like her?’
‘These things take time,’ I said. ‘Josh still doesn’t really know her. Now, why don’t you go and get your reading book out and I’ll be up to listen to you in a few minutes.’
Matilda groaned, simply because that was Josh’s reaction to homework, not because she actually disliked it, and disappeared upstairs.
‘So it went all right, then?’ Chris asked Josh.
‘I think so.’
‘Do you think you’re going to see her again?’
‘Yeah. She’s invited me around to her flat to see her record collection.’
‘Good. Well, I mean, if that’s what you want.’
‘Sounds like she’s got some really good stuff. Not that you haven’t, like.’
Chris nodded. ‘Sure. I understand.’