What Goes Around

chapter THIRTY SEVEN

Gloria

‘Will Mum be okay?’

‘She’ll be fine.’ I say as I open up the house. ‘Let’s put Daisy in her cot.’

‘But she’s not fine.’ Charlotte says and I look at her little pinched face and she looks like one of mine. My heart breaks for all she has to deal with, the same way it broke for my girls.

‘I don’t think she misses him or even likes Dad very much,’ Charlotte says. There are tears falling down her cheeks. ‘It’s not his fault that he died, I don’t get why she’s so angry…’

I feel like I’m back there again, back to the hell he made.

I am back there again, because I give her a cuddle and I take her to Alice’s old room. I find her one of Laura’s nightdresses and, when she’s climbed into bed, I sit there like I did all those years ago.

Here’s the guilt, though.

It’s not like all those years ago.

I couldn’t stand Alice’s questions.

They never ended.

I wanted her to go to sleep and then I had to deal with Bonny and then Eleanor would ring and my parents were checking in every five minutes and the school and the neighbours – I wanted to go to bed.

I wanted chocolate, or toast, to just sit and read, or watch TV to escape, to not have to think. I actually didn’t have time to think – not really, I didn’t have time to fall apart.

One hour with a box of cereal was all I had time for and Alice would lie there, taking up every minute of it - her mouth moving, questions spurting, tears starting. It always came at the end of the longest day – I had my uniform to iron, bills to pay, the house to sort. I had all the sodding divorce stuff to deal with.

‘Why did he die?’ I look down at Charlotte and I want chocolate, I want to lie in the bath till it’s so cold that I wake up. ‘Why did he leave me?’

‘He hasn’t left you,’ I say. ‘He's always going to be there looking out for you. Your dad loved you, the same way he loved my girls. Love never leaves.’

It's not much of an answer but it's the best I can give.

Bastard.

I feel this black smoke rise in my chest, it coils up my throat and it tickles my eyes, it fills my nostrils and lungs and I try to swallow it down.

I look down at the little pet – and I want to lie down and cry, I want to be put to bed and tucked in and for someone to make it all go away.

I don’t want to remember how bad my marriage was. I’ve been doing my best not to remember.

It was easier to just blame Lucy.

It’s so much easier to hate her.

Yes, my burden should be lifted by knowing he inflicted the shame and the pain on her just as he did to me – that the pretty blonde thing who took him away, suffered as I did.

But it’s not lifted.

‘Why is mum cross?’ Charlotte persists.

‘Because she’s hurting.’ I look down to her child. I’ve had enough now - there is nothing left of me to give. ‘Grown up feelings are complicated but your mum will work it out.

‘Tell you what,’ as Charlotte opens her mouth with another question I have to think fast. ‘I'm really tired tonight and I’m worried that I won’t hear Daisy if she wakes. Why don't you sleep in Eleanor’s old room with her? Don't get her out of the cot or anything, come and get me if she wakes up. You can keep an eye on your little niece.’

Thank God for Daisy because Charlotte seems delighted. She scampers out of bed and we creep into Eleanor’s old room. I keep the cot in there now, it seems right that she’s close to her mum, even if she's not there and I whisper good night and Charlotte does the same.

I close the door quietly and I wonder what’s downstairs to eat. I could text Paul perhaps and see if he’s free to speak, except I don't want to. I don't want to put him in that awkward position - I don't really want to know what went on but I can guess.

I was married to him after all.

I close my eyes and I remember.

For the first time I properly look at my marriage and I look properly at me.

I’ve tried so hard not to.

I remember things I can never share with another.

Not even Paul.

Especially, not Paul.

I want something to eat; I’ll make a big mug of coffee and some toast. I’ve got some peanut butter. I try not to have it in the house because if it’s there I get tempted, but Daniel likes peanut butter and I know that I bought some last week. I hear a wail from Daisy upstairs and I grit my teeth as I run up the stairs. I don't want her to wake Charlotte. Daisy’s sleeping through now but she must be unsettled from being dragged out in the night.

She's not crying though. She’s turned herself over and put herself back to sleep and Charlotte is out for the count.

This time, when I leave them, I don't go back downstairs. I don’t care if I left the kitchen light on, I just don't want to go near the kitchen because, if I do, I won't stop till the whole loaf is gone. Instead I go to my bedroom, the one I once shared with him. I sit on the bed where we once slept and I think of all the chaos he left behind.

I’d like five minutes with his body again, just so that I can kill him.

I wouldn’t be begging for him to look after his girls.

I’d be pleading with him to stay the hell away.

He can never make up for the damage he did.