The One That Got Away (31 page)

Apart from Michael. He and Susan spent Christmas at one of her friends’ in Oxford. Being away from the golf club irritated
him, not having his home comforts irritated him – and he wants everyone to know how he has suffered. Like every good vintage,
he does not travel well.

‘Bloody mattress crucified me. Imagine sleeping on a collection of cast iron springs, each of which has been wrapped in a
very worn sock. No, it really was that bad,’ he grumbles as Susan gives him a look. ‘Then they had this God-awful Christmas
morning breakfast of
bagels
,’ he says distastefully, ‘and cream cheese. Then nothing more until about three!’ he shakes his head as if he can’t believe
what the world is coming to. ‘By then my stomach had virtually eaten itself and she hadn’t done enough of everything as it
was anyway. I had three sprouts. Three! I ask you? What’s the bloody point? Never again. Never again,’ he grips the arms of
his chair fiercely.

I say nothing, having made a mental note the moment we arrived to keep my mouth zipped, whatever he says. I am determined
to learn from my mistakes.

‘And after lunch we all had to sit and play Monopoly! You can’t say no because apparently that’s what they do “every year”.’
He tuts furiously. ‘Well, from now on, what I do “every year” is stay here.’

‘Michael,’ Susan says, with just a hint of warning. But for once he’s too carried away to notice. ‘And who was that idiot
Laura’s daughter brought along with her?’

‘Her new boyfriend.’ Susan pours herself another drink. ‘I thought he was very nice.’

‘He was an imbecile,’ Michael retorts. ‘Trousers halfway down his arse.’

‘He’s an artist.’

Michael snorts. ‘Oh well, that’s all right then. When you say artist do you mean he glues one lavatory roll to another one
and calls it sculpture, or do you mean he can actually use a paintbrush?’

Susan ignores him and turns to me. ‘Would you like some more tea, Molly?’

‘What did the first husband do? The one that left her?’ Michael demands.

‘He was a hairdresser.’

‘A hairdresser?’ Michael repeats in disbelief, as if Susan has just said he was an Olympic gerbil trainer or something equally
ridiculous. ‘Well she certainly knows how to pick them. I suppose he turned out to be batting for the other side?’

‘Actually he was having an affair with one of his assist ants,’ Susan replies.

Oh no. I look down at the untouched sherry in my hands.

‘Don’t you remember? They tried to sack her because Lydia – that’s Laura’s daughter,’ Susan explains helpfully to me, ‘didn’t
want her around once it all came out, but the girl brought an unfair dismissal case. It was all very unpleasant, too much
for them to cope with and he walked out.’

‘He left her even though
he’d
been the one playing away from home?’ Michael snorts derisively.

‘Hmmm. He actually ended up with the girl he’d had an affair with,’ Susan pulls a face. ‘They’ve got a baby now.’

Dan, that is not going to happen to us. We are in no way similar to this couple at all. I look at him beseechingly but he’s
staring at the fire.

‘Meanwhile poor old Lydia’s wound up with that bloody artist bloke! Dear oh dear,’ Michael chuckles. ‘Just goes to show, doesn’t
it?’

‘What?’ explodes Dan, making us all jump. ‘What does it go to show, Dad?’

Susan and Michael look at him in surprise.

‘You don’t know what it’s like to be either of them,’ Dan insists. ‘Maybe Lydia really loved her husband and wanted to try
and work through it rather than just give up.’

Oh Dan … I feel my heart break all over again for my husband.

‘Well I can tell you now putting up with it was her first mistake,’ Michael retorts defensively.

‘Oh just shut up!’ Dan slams his drink down and gets to his feet. ‘At least she tried. Which is more than can be said for
you
,’ he jabs a finger at Michael, who, all of the wind taken out of his sails, collapses back in his chair in shock. ‘Sitting
there passing judgement like you’re bloody perfect.’

‘Dan!’ says Susan, taken aback by the uncharacteristic outburst.

‘I’m sorry Mum, but enough’s enough.’ Dan is so angry he’s shaking. ‘It’s Christmas, everyone’s trying to be cheerful, and
all he does is sit there and mouth off like he knows it all. You’re a miserable old fucker Dad. Excuse my language Grandpa,’
he turns to Susan’s father who is sitting on the sofa quietly.

‘He won’t have heard you,’ Michael retorts, but with considerably less bluster.

‘I’d like to go outside please,’ says Grandpa suddenly. ‘Could you help me up, Daniel?’

We watch as Dan heaves him out of the sofa. He leans heavily on his stick and begins to shuffle towards the door. ‘Come on,
lad,’ he plucks at Dan’s sleeve with thin, birdlike fingers and silently Dan follows him out of the room.

Susan, Michael and I just sit there. No one really knows what to say.

‘What the hell has rattled your father’s cage?’ Michael says defensively.

‘Oh, because it’s always someone else’s fault Michael, isn’t it?’ Susan suddenly whirls round on him. ‘You’re a stupid old
fool!’

My eyes widen.

‘Sorry Molly.’ She gets swiftly to her feet and sweeps out of the room after Dan and her dad.

Michael coughs awkwardly and grabs the arms of the chair before uselessly releasing them again. ‘Well, that told me,’ he says
eventually.

I glance over at him; he looks tired and sad. An old man really, who ought to know better but just keeps managing to stuff
it up regardless. ‘I always seem to say the wrong thing somehow.’ He scratches his head uncomfortably, looking very worried.
‘I didn’t mean to upset him. I never mean to upset him. I’m a bit of a disappointment to your husband, I think.’ He tries
to do a gruff laugh but it doesn’t quite come off. ‘And quite possibly my wife.’ For the first time perhaps ever, I feel rather
sorry for him.

In the car on the way home though, my compassion somewhat evaporates. Unintentional though Michael’s comments were, they have
hugely upset Dan. I want to talk to him about it, particularly the bit where Michael said that woman made a mistake in taking
her husband back in the first place – but I don’t know where to begin. Like Michael I suppose, I never usually have a problem
finding words, it tends to be more of an issue
stopping
myself from talking, but this time I don’t want to make a bad situation worse.

We go virtually the whole way home in silence, he only asks, ‘Have we got anything at home we can eat?’ and all I venture
is, ‘I’m sure we’ll have something in the freezer.’

I kick my shoes off as we get in through the front door and make my way across the sitting room towards the kitchen. ‘I’ll
go and see what we’ve got that I could do quickly.’ Thank God for the tree, at least it’s not totally devoid of Christmas
cheer.

‘Molly,’ says Dan suddenly, just as I reach the door. The tone of his voice makes me stop immediately. I turn and look at
him. He’s standing by the front door still holding the keys.

We just stare at each other.

‘What?’ I practically whisper.

‘I think we need to …’ he says eventually and then tries to start again. ‘I can’t …’

I feel myself wobble and say quickly. ‘You can. You can do it, you
are
doing it. Please Dan.’

He says nothing.

‘I’m begging you,’ I say, tears filling my eyes. ‘I know we can do this.’

‘We don’t feel like us any more.’

‘We are us!’ I insist desperately. ‘We
are
. You and me …’

He closes his eyes and swallows painfully. ‘I keep seeing him touching you. I can’t get it out of my mind.’

‘But, it didn’t—’

‘—mean anything,’ he finishes. ‘I know. You said. But now I can’t stop thinking that he’s going to try and get
in contact with you again. That he’ll …’ he peters out, exhausted. ‘I just can’t do this. It’s too much.’

‘I love you Dan,’ my voice crumples. ‘Don’t you love me?’

‘You know I do!’ he cries. ‘You
know
I do! Why would I be doing even this if I didn’t? I just – it’s just too fucking much!’ He pushes past me suddenly and takes
the stairs two at a time.

I rush up after him to find he’s grabbed a bag, into which he is shoving things wildly.

‘You’re
packing
?’ I say in disbelief – it’s utterly, utterly incomprehensible. ‘You’re leaving me?’

His eyes fill with tears at that, he throws the bag away from him and then he breaks down completely.

I scramble round the bed, horrified. I’ve never seen him cry, except at the odd soppy movie. I try to wrap my arms round him
and just for a second he lets me – but then he gently pushes me off, not unkindly, but as if my touching him is unbearable.
‘Please don’t,’ he says. ‘Please.’

He picks up the bag again and slowly begins to put some bits and pieces in it. I stay on the floor, just watching him, unable
to believe what I am seeing. All sense of time starts to slip, it is both the longest and shortest moment of my life.

He closes the bag and straightens up.

I have no feeling in my arms and legs, nothing. Everything falls away around us as he takes a step towards the door.

‘Please don’t do this,’ I say, barely able to see him through my own tears. ‘Let’s just talk about it.’

‘But I don’t know what more there is to say. I thought I could do it, but …’ He shakes his head.

Neither of us move, we just look at each other and then, to the sound of me collapsing into sobs, he disappears round the
door and is gone.

Bec and Joss rock me in their arms as I do great heaving, gulping sobs. Bec was completely horrified when it all came out
– every last horrible detail – and I can tell she’s also very hurt indeed that she knew nothing about any of it, although
she assures me it’s OK, when I put a desperate hand on her arm and try to justify my reasons.

Both of them gasp out loud when I tell them about the doctor at the party. Dan punching Pearce. That I’ve left my job – what
our last two weeks have been like.

‘He’s going to come back,’ says Joss fiercely, arms round me, ‘because he loves you. And when he does, I’m going to kill him.’

I look at her exhaustedly through red eyes and blow my nose. ‘It’s not his fault Joss. He really has tried – he
can’t even touch me. It’s eating him up and it’s
my
fault. I brought the whole thing on myself.’

‘Molly!’ Bec looks appalled. ‘You were so drunk you don’t even remember half the night! Leo should never have taken—’

‘Bec,’ Joss says quietly. ‘Don’t. It’s not going to help. He’s irrelevant now.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ I scramble around for a tissue. ‘You should be with your families, not here with me, I’ve ruined everything.’

Joss snorts. ‘You’re all right. The twins and I were about to murder each other. My flat is
way
too small for all three of us.’

‘And I hate turkey curry, you know I do,’ Bec tries to make me smile. ‘Anyway, you need us. End of.’

‘But your blokes – you might have wanted to see them today.’

‘Er, hello weirdo, I’ve been dating him less than a month,’ Joss says. ‘Why the fuck would I be seeing him on Boxing Day?’

‘And I’ve dumped mine,’ Bec shrugs. ‘Turns out he wasn’t that funny after all. Let’s just say he found himself unable to reach
the required standard.’ She hesitates. ‘Molly. I’ve got something to tell you. I wasn’t going to mention it because it upset
you enough when I told you he turned up on Facebook, but you know that internet dating site I was on?’

I nod, as Joss looks at us both blankly.

‘Leo contacted me through it. I didn’t think anything
of it at the time, he just asked after you, said did I have an email address or home phone number for you? I didn’t give them
to him, but if I’d have known what was going on, I’d have told you, I promise.’

‘So he’s been surfing around internet dating sites too?’ Joss shakes her head in disbelief. ‘What a nice guy – he really has
had each of his bases covered, hasn’t he?’

We’re silent for a moment before she speaks up again. ‘And I can’t believe what else has happened over the last two weeks
– that you didn’t say anything to either of us?’

‘I promised Dan.’ I shrug, and can’t help starting to cry again.

Both of the girls insist on staying the night, taking turns to pop home and collect their stuff while the other sits with
me. I hear them whispering while I’m sat on the loo, staring into space as I get an uncomfortable lower abdominal twinge.
Staring dully down at the packet of Tampax I keep by the loo, I reach out for it automatically.

Joss looks up from the magazine she’s found as I come back in to the bedroom and says, ‘Finally! We thought you’d fallen in!’

‘I’ve just come on.’

She gives me a sympathetic look. ‘I’d send today back if I were you,’ she tries. ‘Get a refund.’

‘I’ve made you some hot chocolate.’ Bec comes back in clutching a mug. ‘You should try and drink some, it’ll help you sleep.’

‘I’m going to kip on the sofa bed,’ Joss gets up. ‘You two can stay in here.’

‘No,
I’ll
sleep downstairs,’ Bec volunteers. ‘I don’t mind. Plus I snore.’

It doesn’t matter to me in the slightest which of them I get, although Bec is right, she does snore. I lie silently next to
her, on Dan’s side, getting tears in my ears as I smell his aftershave on the pillow and wish with all my heart that it could
be him lying next to me instead.

‘Did you manage to sleep at all?’ Bec asks me the next morning as she stretches.

‘A bit,’ I lie, getting up stiffly. ‘I’m just going to the loo.’

When I come back in she’s sitting up in bed and yawning.

‘Do you think you could drive me over to my mum and dad’s?’ I ask her, feeling dazed. ‘In a bit?’

‘Of course,’ she rubs her face, trying to wake herself up. ‘Would you rather be there than here?’

I nod.

‘I understand totally,’ she says and swings her legs out of bed. ‘I’ll wake Joss up and we’ll get on the move, OK?’

In the car they both chatter away earnestly as I numbly stare out of the window. ‘I honestly think Moll, that he’ll come back,’
says Joss, ‘really I do. You just need to give him some time.’