‘Britain’s Biggest Scams, or something like that.’
‘Ah, mine’s a drama.’ I feverishly flicked through the channels searching for anything that sounded or looked vaguely dramatic. I reluctantly settled on a repeat of Pride and Prejudice, something so far off my wish list that, if Adam had been there, he would have referred to it as ‘my worst nightmare’. But such was the underlying battle of wills between us, that I would have gladly watched anything rather than let her get her own way.
‘Why don’t you go to bed?’ she said, half an hour later, as my eyes began to close and I loosened my grip on the remote, feeling it sliding towards the chasm between us.
Her voice coursed through me, bringing me back into the room.
‘What? Why?’
She laughed. ‘You’re obviously tired out. Go to bed, I’ll stay up for Adam.’
‘He’s thirty years old, Pamela’ – I saw her wince – ‘neither of us needs to stay up for him, least of all his mother.’
‘I always used to wait up for my Jim,’ she said.
‘He was your husband.’
‘And soon, Adam will be yours. It’s what a wife’s supposed to do. Not a single night went by when I’d go to bed without him.’
‘I suppose you put a ribbon in your hair as well, did you?’ I mumbled.
‘What?’
‘I think you’ll find times have changed since you were married.’
‘I’ll have you know I’m still married, young lady. And if you plan on your marriage surviving much past a year, you’d do well to take a leaf out of my book. You should be subservient. You shouldn’t even be out there working all the hours that you do. A woman’s place is in the home.’
I let out a loud guffaw. ‘Talking of home, when do you plan on returning to yours? You’ll have been here a week tomorrow.’
She made a grab for the remote control resting on my knee. I got there first. This was ridiculous.
‘When Adam is happy for me to,’ she snapped.
‘Adam? It’s not his decision.’
‘We spoke a couple of days ago.’ Her tone was conspiratorial, intended to let me know that they’d had a conversation which I had no part in. ‘And he said he feels more comfortable knowing I’m here, where he can look after me.’
But he’s not looking after you, I am, I thought bitterly.
‘So, when Adam and I feel I’m well enough, I’ll go back home.’ She yawned and looked at her watch.
‘Of course, Pamela. You should only go when you feel ready. I’d hate to think of anything happening to you whilst you’re on your own. I mean, you could go again at any time, so we need to be careful.’ I put the ‘go’ in speech marks with my fingers. I don’t know whether her jaw clenched at that, or being called ‘Pamela’ again.
‘It’s late. You go to bed. I’ll wait up for Adam,’ I went on. ‘You’re right. I should stay up for him. You never know what he might need or want.’
Her face didn’t show it, but we both knew it was one point to me.
‘Good girl,’ she said, pushing herself up off the sofa.
I watched as she stood and stretched her arms high above her head. Something she never would have done in front of Adam, for fear of showing how agile she really was. She’d become a master of deception, subtly changing her demeanour, prowess, and even her voice, I’d noticed, when he was around.
‘So, you’ll make sure he gets in safely?’
I nodded.
‘And if he’s been drinking, don’t start with your nagging. He’s allowed off the leash every once in a while.’
I looked at her, and shook my head in disbelief. I wondered if she’d really had the kind of marriage she purported to have had with Jim. I couldn’t see her as a downtrodden wife, waiting on her husband’s every whim and fancy. She was too strong a character. But then, perhaps it was losing him that had given her such strength. She’d had to step up to care for her two boys. I couldn’t ever imagine being able to do that. I wondered if that had created this abnormal bond. One that she now felt was threatened by her sons being in normal relationships. There was a tiny part of me that could begin to feel sorry for her, that wanted to sit her down and tell her that I wasn’t taking her son away. That she could still be a part of his life, our life. It didn’t have to be this virtual tug of war, with both of us seemingly trying to prove who Adam loved the most. But then I remembered all the things she’d done and said, the unnecessary hurt she’d caused me. We could have been friends. Christ, she might even have gained a daughter, something she’d once told me she felt she’d missed out on. But that chance had been and gone – all of her own doing – and if that’s how she wanted it to be, then so be it, but I wasn’t going to allow her to break me down, especially in my own home. She had to go.
The DVD player had illuminated 12:24 the last time I looked, but God knows what time it was when Adam fell on my head in a clumsy attempt to get his shoes off.
‘Jesus Christ,’ he said, in answer to my yelp. ‘What are you doing there?’
I sat up, bleary-eyed, on the sofa, my neck knotted and tight. ‘Waiting for you, like a good wifey,’ I whispered, still trying to get my bearings.
He was shoeless and standing in front of me, swaying ever so slightly. ‘Ah, that’s so sweet,’ he managed. ‘What have I done to deserve this?’
‘It’s not so much about what you deserve, as about what I need,’ I said, half laughing, pulling him towards me by his belt. ‘It’s been such a long time.’ His trouser zip was in line with my face, and I reached for it.
‘We can’t,’ he mumbled, half-heartedly. ‘She might come in.’
I shrugged my shoulders and carried on.
‘Ssh, no, Em. Seriously, we can’t.’ He was giggling now and I knew I was going to get my own way because I knew he wanted me to.
‘It’s been almost a week,’ I whispered, my hands still busy. ‘How much longer are we expected to wait?’
He suddenly held my fumbling hands still. ‘Just a little longer. Till she’s back on her feet properly.’
‘How much longer?’ I went on, brushing his hand aside. ‘I need a date, something I can work towards, to know when we’ll finally get our flat back.’
‘I know it’s hard, Em, but just give it a few more days.’
‘So, by Sunday?’ I pushed.
He hesitated.
‘Promise me Sunday, or I’m going to carry on.’
‘That puts me in a lose–lose situation.’ He laughed.
I took him in my hand and felt his whole body tense.
‘Christ,’ he breathed.
‘What’s it going to be?’ I teased. ‘Say Sunday and I’ll stop.’
I picked up the pace.
‘Jesus, Em.’
‘Sunday and stop, or Sunday and keep going?’ He was right – he couldn’t win.
He moaned, and I knew there was no way he was going to ask me to stop now. ‘Just keep going,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t stop.’
That’s what I thought. The dynamics in this three-way relationship needed to shift, and darling Pammie needed to know that it was me and Adam against the world, together as equals, as the couple we were, not the two separate entities that she’d confused us for, in her warped, twisted mind.
I could never have imagined that seeing her angelic son in my mouth would do the trick.
15
We didn’t hear anything from Adam’s mum for three weeks after she’d walked in on us. The shock of seeing us in such a compromising position had, apparently, left her shell-shocked and emotionally scarred.