The One That Got Away (7 page)

It was only once I’d sent it that I realised with dismay I’d thoughtlessly added a kiss to the end of the message. A small
warning bell went off in the back of my mind at the same time as a second email arrived with another merry Ping!

Facebook; Leo Williams has sent you a message …

I know what you mean! We had to move last year because of the girls’ school – I’ve got two stepdaughters now – CAN’T BELIEVE
I’ve moved to get into a better catchment area … what has happened to me?!

I couldn’t help smiling at that, and he’d ignored the kiss. Phew. I paused for a moment, relieved, my fingers hovering over
the keyboard as I thought up an equally light response.

Tough being a grown-up eh? Do you also have a 4×4 for school run? If so, transformation is complete!

I pictured Leo behind the wheel in one of his sharp suits, important corporate ‘access all areas’ pass round his neck, but
two kids in the backseat. Funny …

And yet my short-lived ease and the buzz of friendly banter began to drain away as I looked at the transcript of our exchange
on the screen in front of me.

It wasn’t that we’d said anything remotely inappropriate, we hadn’t. It just didn’t feel – quite right. It wasn’t as if I
was catching up with an old friend … it was Leo.

The fact that I couldn’t bring myself to admit to Bec that I’d emailed him, when she called me later that night, just confirmed
that I knew I’d inadvertently misbehaved. I decided then and there if he messaged me again I’d just ignore it. Instead I filled
her in on the other events of the last few days.

‘So is there other stuff you still want to do then?’ Bec sounded a bit confused. ‘Is that what’s putting you off starting
now?’

‘Maybe,’ I floundered. ‘Dan and I have never worked abroad—’

‘You’re moving to another country?’ she said, alarmed.

‘No! We haven’t even talked about it …’ I trailed off. ‘It’s just once we start down this route—’

‘Having children is a big decision,’ she admitted, ‘but I think it’s great that you’re going into it with your eyes wide open.’
And then she ever so slightly slipped into professional mode: ‘It’s important you both talk about it, even if it does get
a bit heated – it’s the couples that don’t you worry about.’

I fell silent.

‘I’ve seen it so many times at work,’ she continued, ‘one of them is really overexcited about the pregnancy and the other
one is totally disinterested – and you just know they’re not going to last. Some of them split up before the baby is even
born.’

The thought of being without Dan made me feel sick.

‘Don’t panic though Moll, it wouldn’t be
impossible
if you left it another two or three years until you start trying, but …’ she took a deep breath, ‘if it were me –’

I winced. It was always hard to know if it was OK to talk to Bec about stuff like this, knowing that she very much wanted
a baby of her own.

‘– I’d get started in the new year. Facts are facts, Moll.
Nice though it would be, none of us have got a picture in the attic, have we?’

‘Does it hurt, Bec?’ I blurted suddenly. ‘Giving birth I mean.’

She laughed. ‘No Moll, fairies magic it out. Didn’t you know?’

I laughed too, but slightly awkwardly. ‘Right, I’d better go,’ I said brightly. ‘I’m going all wrinkly and the water’s gone
cold. Love you!’

‘You’re in the bath? Oh sorry – I’ll leave you in peace. Love you too,’ she said, and then she was gone.

‘Did I hear you talking to someone?’ Dan said when I walked back into our bedroom.

‘Bec,’ I hung my towel over the radiator wondering what he’d heard me say. Thank goodness I
hadn’t
mentioned Leo’s messages. I climbed into bed next to him.

‘She all right?’ he said.

I nodded. I just wanted to snuggle up to him, try and relax. I really didn’t want to do any more talking to anyone about anything.

But neither it seemed did he.

It wasn’t long before he was reaching to find a condom in the bedside table as I stared up at the ceiling feeling dreamily
light as a feather and altogether much better.

‘I can’t … find …’ he rummaged around and nearly knocked his water over. I heard some of it splash. ‘Oh bollocks.’

‘Leave it,’ I said, eyes closed, starting to float back down
to earth ever so slightly. ‘I’ll sort it afterwards. Why don’t you just put the light back on so you can see what you’re doing?’
I yawned.

‘Finally!’ he said. I heard the small cardboard packet open and the tear of the wrapper. He was ready instantly. I wriggled
under him but as he groaned happily, I opened my eyes in the darkness. ‘Dan, is that on properly? I can’t feel it.’

‘Yeah, it’s fine.’ He breathed. ‘Absolutely fine.’

I put my arms uncertainly round his neck and closed my eyes again as he kissed me briefly. I really couldn’t feel it, but
then did I notice it usually? Bizarrely I found I couldn’t remember, ridiculous given the number of times we must have done
it. But then nine times out of ten I saw him put it on, as we pretty much never turned the light off.

Which was a good point. Why had he turned it off? In fact why had he turned it off and then been ready to go at the speed
of light? And why couldn’t I feel it?

He
had
put it on, hadn’t he?

But then why wouldn’t he have?

Having said that, why hadn’t he suggested NOT using one – like last time? If he was so eager to ‘get started’ why had he just
happily reached for a condom … that I now couldn’t feel?

And then I saw him in my mind standing there holding the pin and the condom.

I heard Anita’s voice say ‘taking matters into his own hands’.

Then I remembered him saying ‘Everyone’s thinking “Come on Dan – be the man!”’ and ‘I don’t want to be an old dad!’

My eyes opened again in the dark.

‘Dan,’ I drew back ever so slightly. ‘Seriously, I can’t feel it. The condom. Do you think it could have,’ I gasped, ‘come
off?’

‘No, I don’t,’ he slowed down slightly. ‘It’s fine. It doesn’t matter, just relax.’

It didn’t matter?

Whoa, whoa, WHOA! Yes, it did.

I felt myself shrink away from him immediately. ‘Just stop a minute.’

He didn’t. ‘That feels amazing.’

‘Dan!’ I shouted. And then I hit his shoulder, hard.

He stopped and then reached out and fumbled with the light switch. I winced at the look on his face. ‘Did you just hit me?’
he said incredulously.

‘You weren’t listening to me!’

‘Because I told you it was fine! What’s the matter with you?’

I hesitated, having a massive moment of self-doubt now that the light was on and he was looking down at me completely confused
… ‘You said it didn’t matter, and it does.’

‘I meant it didn’t matter because it was all OK.’

‘It’s just, you were really quick putting it on!’

‘Well it’s not my first time, is it?’ He exhaled heavily, propping his body weight up on his hands. ‘That’s
successfully killed the mood.’ He eased back, lay down beside me and stared up at the ceiling.

‘Why did you want the light off? We never do that.’ I said, my mind still racing.

‘Yes we do!’ he said, baffled. ‘And so what if …’ Then his expression changed. ‘Hang on. What are you saying?’

There was a very ugly silence.

‘I didn’t see you put it on,’ I said in a small voice. ‘I couldn’t feel it. I …’

‘What,
exactly
, are you saying?’ he said ominously.

‘It’s just … I saw you with that pin … and now suddenly I can’t feel—’

‘I
knew
it! Fucking hell!’ He sat up sharply. ‘Without meaning to be crude, don’t you think you would have noticed afterwards that
I hadn’t been wearing one?’

‘But it would have been too late by then, wouldn’t it?’ The words were out there before I could stop them.

He said nothing, just gave me an utterly disgusted look as he quickly threw the bed covers back, got up and left the room.
I reached for my T-shirt as I heard him banging around in the bathroom, and then he came back in, towel round his waist.

‘Stalling is one thing,’ he said angrily, ‘but this? Accusing me of stuff I would never do? All I wanted – heaven forbid –
was to have sex with you.’

‘OK, OK, I’m sorry.’ Panicking slightly, I tried to calm him down. ‘But Dan, you can’t blame me for having doubts when—’

‘Doubts?’ he said incredulously. ‘You didn’t just say that! I’m your
husband
!’

I paused.

‘I can’t believe you think I’d actually do something like that!’ He began to raise his voice.

‘Dan! Shhh!’ I hissed. ‘They’ll hear us next door.’

‘I don’t care,’ he shouted, then he kicked the edge of the wardrobe in frustration and his towel fell off. All the moment
needed was a comedy sound effect. He immediately bent to pick it up and ordinarily, if we’d been arguing about anything else,
it would have diffused everything. I would have laughed, he’d have grinned sheepishly, and the argument would have ended.
Instead I heard the unmistakable sound of a wail through our rented ricepaper walls. He’d woken up next-door’s toddler.

‘Don’t. Say. Anything,’ Dan pointed a finger at me warningly. He stomped round the bed and began to pull on his tracksuit
bottoms.

‘Where are you going?’ I said as he marched out.

‘I’m sleeping on the sofa bed.’

‘Oh don’t be such a baby!’ I called after him, and then closed my eyes in regret at my crass but totally unplanned choice
of words.

‘Is that supposed to be funny?’ He came straight back in. ‘You think this is all a joke?’

‘No, of course not. I just made a mistake. I meant …’

‘Well try this one; my wife – who I love more than anything – doesn’t seem to want a baby with me.’ His voice cracked. ‘Hysterical
isn’t it?’

‘You’re absolutely right I don’t – not like this,’ my voice was suddenly thick with unshed tears. The crying became louder
next door and there was a warning thump on the wall.

‘What is it you want me to do, Molly?’ he raised his voice. ‘Magic you younger? I don’t understand.
Time is running out!
I don’t want to be one of those sad OAP couples everyone calls selfish bastards, having IVF alongside our first hip replacements.
You need to get a grip and grow up!’

He made for the door again, but then came back ‘—and I am
fucking angry
about what you’ve just accused me of,’ he said furiously. ‘We only use the bloody things full stop because you can’t take
the pill, thanks to your migraines! In fact, you know what? This whole thing is about you, not me. I can’t believe you think
I would do something so underhand; I love you! And now you’re actually saying you don’t want kids at all?’

‘I’m saying—’

He didn’t let me finish. ‘At least that’s more honest than the “next year” bullshit.’

‘It’s not bullshit!’ I exclaimed.

He ignored me. ‘I don’t want to put it off any longer, Molly, I want to start trying for children NOW, OK?’ he shouted. ‘Not
next month, not next year, NOW.’

I faltered as I looked at him. I could see he was completely serious, he simply wasn’t prepared to wait any longer. For once
I didn’t go charging in, I’d already said enough; I was frightened of doing the wrong thing.

But he actually didn’t wait for me to say anything.

‘You know, I can’t even look at you right now,’ he shook his head. ‘That you could think I’d actually do something like that
…’ he turned in disgust and banged out of the room.

Immediately I wanted to call out after him: ‘Dan, wait. I’m sorry – it’s because I’m scared!’

Because I’d realised I was. Scared of how it would change my life, what it would mean, what it would be like to actually have
a baby. What if I was no good at being a mum? What if something happened to me or Dan? And what if – well, being a mum was
crap? And lonely. Or changed things between Dan and me? Maybe they were things everyone worried about, it was totally normal,
but what if it wasn’t? What if I
didn’t
want them after all? All that sitting there with Joss and Bec on Saturday smugly saying ‘Yah yah, we know ourselves SO well
now we’re in our thirties …’ but perhaps I didn’t. Even worse, was this a part of me I had chosen to ignore?

Or were Dan and Anita right: I just needed to grow up. Maybe that was all it was, I was just being a selfish wuss. After all,
everyone else seemed to manage it, Karen and Maria by and large enjoyed it. I tried to think back over the last year and a
half, tried to remember all of the conversations we’d had about having children … perhaps Dan’s comments about stalling
were
fair, but then surely the days of having to start trying for children the second you married were gone, weren’t they?

I tried to take some deep breaths, attempted to stay
calm, but it felt like being stuck at one end of a fraying rope bridge; the ones that swing perilously over dark rocky gorges,
or rivers of angry lava. Dan on the other side of the canyon shouting at me to hurry up, hand held out – and me not knowing
if it was safest to run for it, to pick my way across … or stay put and make him come to me. One of us was going to have to
cross to the other side – that much I did know. There was to be no meeting in the middle on this one.

I considered going downstairs to find him, saying sorry for my irrational outburst. I even got to the top of the stairs and
listened tentatively – but the house was already silent. Perhaps he was already asleep? It
was
late and he’d be even more annoyed if I woke him up.

I decided I’d apologise in the morning.

But of course that didn’t happen.

I change gear and glance at the clock. Reaching Windsor on time for the start of the conference is not looking likely. The
traffic has been
crap
. And so much spray everywhere – I hate driving when it’s like this.

It had felt like I’d been asleep five minutes when Dan snapped the big light on this morning. I’d turned over to find him
standing in front of the wardrobe in his towel post-shower, selecting a shirt. He’d rifled through the rack, grabbed one and
stomped back out of the room.