The Torn Up Marriage (11 page)

“Saturday’s not going to work now. Sorry.”

“What the hell do you mean? The girls know all about it. They’re looking forward to it. I told them last night. You can’t just pull out on them.”

“Something’s cropped up at work. I
really
can’t get out of it.”

She knew this would happen. “Jesus, Michael,” her tone was blade sharp, “I’ve just rearranged my whole weekend around you, and it was your bloody idea in the first place.
No
, it’s not on, you can’t just do that to them. Emily will be gutted.”

“I know, I know. I feel awful. It’s a morning meeting. A big potential client. I can’t change it. Saturday’s the only day they can do.”

Kate stood in livid silence. She knew this would bloody happen.

“Kate?… Look, maybe I can see the girls for an hour or two in the afternoon. Or Sophie could have them for the morning while I’m at the meeting.”

That was it. Her fuse blew. “Oh great.
You
can’t have your girls, but you think I’d be happy to palm them off on your mistress for a few hours. The one who’s already upset them enough about friggin’ duvet covers.”

“Hey, hang on. That’s not fair, that was nothing to do with Sophie. If you must know she helped smooth things over.”

“NOTHING-TO-DO-WITH-SOPHIE! Jesus, Michael, are you stupid or what? If she hadn’t been so keen to get you into her bed, then you wouldn’t have left the girls, would you? They wouldn’t have to be sleeping in a spare room in her bloody flat, and they wouldn’t have to choose sodding duvet covers in the first place.”

“Okay, okay, I get the gist. But I can’t rearrange this meeting. We’ll have to think up a plan B.”

“No, Michael, YOU’LL have to think up a plan B. I’ve had enough of all this crap. Just don’t you hurt those girls any more…” Her voice was steely, yet she knew it was threatening to crack, her hand trembling on the receiver. “Ring me back when you’ve thought of something. And it had better be good.” She managed to hold on long enough to hear him say, “Okay. I’ll ring back later. I am sorry.”

Sorry wasn’t enough. She slammed down the phone and found herself weeping. Then she got up, walked calmly to the kitchen, blew her nose loudly on some kitchen towel and took out the large pair of scissors from the drawer.

“Mummy?” A small voice came from the open doorway.

Oh, shit. Shit. She sat bolt upright where she’d been sobbing on the bed. Folds of black pinstriped material lay in jagged strips around her. Deep slashes through the sleeves, down the jacket front. The trousers in a dozen different pieces. She’d particularly enjoyed cutting up the crotch. She tried to scramble the fragments together, but there was too much to hide.

“What are you doing?” It was Charlotte, standing sleepily at the side of the bed, fuzzy in the lamplight and the mist in Kate’s eyes.

“Oh, sorry, sweetie. Did I disturb you?”

The little girl nodded, bemused at the strange scene before her.

“What’s that?” She pointed at the pile on the bed.

“Oh, just something of your dad’s. It’s okay, I don’t think he’ll want it any more. To be honest I got a bit cross with it. But it’s all okay now.”

“Mummy, have you been crying?”

There was no point in lying. She must look a right state, her eyes red-rimmed for sure. “Yes, darling. But don’t worry. I just got a bit upset. It’s been a bit tricky for me, with Daddy not being here and everything.” Kate wiped the sleeve of her dressing gown across her cheeks. She shifted the remnants of the suit across the bed. The pink silk handkerchief peeping out, colourful in the pile.

“Here,” Charlotte picked it up, offered it to her as she sat down next to her. “Look, there’s a hankie, Mummy.”

The tears welled again, but Kate bit them back. “Thanks.” She took it, dabbed at her eyes. On her wedding day she’d never imagined having to use it to dry such tears.

“It’s okay, Mummy. Daddy said it’s okay to cry. He told me and Emmie the other night, when she was upset about the covers.”

Kate nodded, then gave a soft sigh. God, how she wished her daughter hadn’t seen her like this.

“He said it lets it out if you’re upset,” Charlotte continued. “That it’s a good thing not a bad thing. He said he sometimes cries too… And that if we needed to tell him why we were sad we could talk to him, or ring him anytime. Do you think you should ring him now?”

“Oh, well no Lottie, it’s a bit late,” she floundered, “Maybe not tonight. Just talking to you is good tonight.” Kate blew her nose in the handkerchief. “Sorry, petal, I didn’t mean for you to see me upset.” She rubbed Lottie’s arm reassuringly. “I’m okay, honest.” They had a hug. Then Kate said, “I think you’d better go back to bed now. You’ve got school tomorrow. So you’d better get some sleep.”

“You too, Mummy.”

“Yeah, me too. Good idea.”

“Night, Mum.”

“Night, sweetheart. Thanks for coming to see me. And don’t worry, I’m fine now, everything’s fine.” She sniffed.

Charlotte left her, padding out quietly. Why had she lost control, damn it? Lottie shouldn’t have to see her like that. She’d thought they were asleep. Kate screwed up the silk hankie, thought of launching it across the room, but instead curled up under the covers, eventually drifting off to sleep with it still tight in her hand.

Michael had actually come up with a workable plan B by the next morning. It wasn’t ideal on his part, but Kate was comfortable with it because it involved his parents, and they had always been lovely with her and the girls. She was to drive the girls to his parents’ house in the country, just five miles out of Alnwick. They would spend the morning there and then Michael would collect them as soon as he could, probably lunchtime, before having them to himself for the afternoon.

Now she was pulling into his parents’ driveway, she felt a little guilty for not having visited sooner. They’d spoken on the phone, but she hadn’t actually called in person since the news of the affair. At first, she hadn’t known if Michael had told them, and she
really
didn’t want to be the one to break the news. And then she just couldn’t bear the thought of having to face them and possibly breaking down or bad-mouthing him, especially in front of the girls. Dorothy had phoned, of course, as soon as the truth was out. They were “
so
disappointed in him… didn’t know what he was thinking”, and had shown immense support for Kate, who was “welcome any time”. But all she’d managed to do for the first few weeks was to survive by keeping within the insane comfort of her own four walls, however lonely they might be, merely acting out the basics of her life for the sake of the girls. That alone had taken all her energy.

But here they were parked up in the gravel driveway of the large farmhouse, an attractive home built of sturdy grey Northumberland stone, with white-painted sash windows and a welcoming front door at its centre, a delicate yellow rose climbing the wall beside it. Outside the walled gardens were fields where sheep and cattle grazed. Kate had always thought it must have been a lovely place for Michael and his younger brother, Dan, to have been brought up.

Dorothy, Michael’s mother, was there at the doorway, welcoming them with her arms wide and a broad smile.

“Hello, hello. Come on in.”

Her eyes were the same stunning blue as Michael’s. But her face was broader than her son’s, the hair above it a neat grey, set in rounded curls. A homely, matronly figure dressed in pale-green twin set and tweed skirt. She had favoured smart, yet practical, country clothes ever since Kate had known her.

Kate paused on the threshold, feeling a little strange; life had changed so much since they had last been here. “Hello, Dorothy.”

“Granny, Granny!” The girls were swirling in her arms.

Seeing their glowing faces she realised that Michael had come up with a good plan B getting them here. As long as he managed to turn up himself this afternoon to spend some time with the girls.

“Hello, my lovelies,” Dorothy showed them in, giving Kate a warm hug, “And how are you, my darling?”

“Oh, fine.” Kate put on her brave face.

Charlotte and Emily had already gone on through to catch up with Grandad George. Dorothy raised an eyebrow at her. She knew things could not be easy for her daughter-in-law.

“Well, so so. Could be better.” Kate tried her best to raise a reassuring smile.

“I know, I know.” Her mother-in-law was shaking her head softly, as though she could hardly believe it herself.

“Grandad, we’re here!” The girls were charging into the kitchen, where George was just coming out.

“Hullo, girls. How are you?” He ruffled their hair. “Pretty as pictures, as ever.” He grinned at the girls and then broadened his smile at Kate, too, as if to include her in his compliment.

She followed them through into the large kitchen, with its oak cabinets and centre island. Emma Bridgewater-style spotted biscuit and coffee jars adorned the surfaces, and a jug of pastel-shaded sweetpeas, no doubt from the garden, sat on the dining table at the far end of the room, where French doors opened out to the sheltered rear garden. The May sunlight was streaming in in a golden haze.

“Juice girls? And I’ll make Mummy a cup of tea, shall I?”

“Yes, please.” “Please.” Charlotte and Emily were installed at the table chattering with Grandad.

Dorothy smiled at Kate, who was stood beside her. “Would you like a tea? Have you got time to stay?”

“Oh, oh yes, that’d be lovely.” She had little to go back for really, just chores. But she wouldn’t stay too long – let the girls have some time with their grandparents. And the last thing she wanted was to still be there when Michael turned up.

Dorothy busied herself with organising cups and the teapot. “Oh, girls, I thought we might make some cakes this morning. Do you fancy doing that?”

“Ooh, yes.” Their faces were animated.

“What kind?” Charlotte bounced on her chair.

“Well, maybe some fairy cakes or cup cakes. I’ve got the swirly icing bag ready and I’ve bought some sprinkles and things for the tops.”

“Wow, can I see?” Charlotte leapt off her chair.

Dorothy pointed to a cupboard, “Have a look in there.”

She was straight in, Emily soon with her, pulling out little jars of hundreds and thousands, silver balls, tiny icing flowers and more. They were going to have a fine time.

“Thanks, Dorothy. They’ll love doing that.”

“Now then, girls, if you’re going to cook, what do you need to do?”

“Lick the spoons?” Emily was smiling hopefully.

“No, that’s later.” Dorothy laughed.

“Scrape out the mixing bowl!” That was George joining in from the back.

Dorothy did a mock swipe at him with the tea towel that happened to be in her hand. “Get away with you, and stop encouraging them.”

“No,” she added sensibly, “You need to go and wash your hands. And I mean thoroughly. You know where the little sink is in the downstairs toilet. You two hop along and do that for me. Twice each. Then they’ll be super-duper clean.”

Kate was sure this was a bit of a ploy. As soon as they were out of the door, Dorothy turned to her, her voice gentle. “How are you doing, Kate darling? Are you really alright?” she placed a hand on her shoulder. “It must be very difficult for you all.”

“I’m fine Dorothy, really.”

Her mother-in-law’s eyebrows arched once more; she wasn’t to be fooled.

“Okay. I’m not that good, no. But one day at a time. It’s just… just,” Kate floundered, “It’s a bit like we’ve been hit by a freight train, really. I really didn’t see it coming at all… But the girls aren’t too bad, thank God. They just need lots of love and support.”

“Yes. And I’m sure you’ll give it to them.” Dorothy let out a slow sigh, checked the doorway, no sign of the girls, then continued. “The stupid, stupid boy. I really don’t know what on earth has got into him, letting you all down like this. George has tried to speak with him, but he seems in a world of his own at the moment.”

“Yes, cloud bloody cuckoo land if you ask me.” George was up on his feet now. “Stupid bugger, excuse my French.” He shook his head in exasperation.

“We’re here to help, Kate.” Dorothy added, “If you need anything, please ask. We don’t agree with Michael’s behaviour at all, can’t understand it.”

“And I am having nothing to do with that trollop. She is not welcome in this house.” George was getting all huffy-puffy. “So don’t you worry about that.”

“Oh, well thanks… for the offer of help and everything.” Kate wrapped her hands around the tea that was passed to her.

“You’ll always be a part of our family, dear.” That was George’s finale, as the girls skipped back in.

Kate felt tears welling in her eyes, her throat dry. She looked out at the garden hoping to regain some composure. Sipped some tea, hoping to stifle the tears. One escaped and plopped into her drink, but she breathed deeply and managed to get a grip on herself.

“Cakes, cakes!” The girls chanted.

“Right, well just have your juice for a minute and let Mummy have her cup of tea, then we’ll make a start.” Dorothy sent George off with them to the table again, where Kate could hear snippets of conversation about school, Daddy’s new flat, which fell a little on stony ground, and then them asking him if he and Granny would come to sports day soon. Ooh, that’d be a fun one! Kate could picture them all there, she and the grandparents on one side of the family and friend’s area, Michael and Sophie on the other. Ding ding, round one.

Dorothy sensed her unease, having been listening in to the conversation, too, “It’ll all work out somehow, you know.”

Kate found that hard to believe.

The ladies stood drinking their tea, their backs against the counter, chatting about the girls; Charlotte was doing well at her swimming, and was well ahead with her reading. Emily loved her nursery, especially painting and arts and crafts. Safe ground, nothing too emotional for Kate to deal with.

“Are you planning any holidays this year?” Kate asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Oh, well, we’re thinking of the Lake District. There’s a lovely hotel there we like. Haven’t been for a couple of years. It’s really relaxing,” Dorothy paused, adding, “I’ve just got a couple of hospital appointments to get to, so we haven’t set a date yet. Nothing to worry about, just check-ups.” Her tone was blasé but had an edge to it; Kate felt she didn’t want to expand. She hoped she was okay.