‘I didn’t cheat on you. I swear. I swear on my mum’s life. On my dad’s grave.’
James pulled back and looked at me through narrowed eyes and then smiled. For a second I thought he was going to headbutt me but then he kissed me full on the lips, pressing so hard I lost all sensation in my mouth. His hand grasped for my breast and then, just as I thought it was over, he threw me across the room. My foot hit the coffee table and I stumbled forward, handing face first on the sofa.
‘James,’ I twisted onto my side. He moved across the living room towards me, the same dead expression in his eyes that I’d seen in the kitchen. ‘James, stop it. I didn’t cheat on you. I swear. I—’
He stopped walking and laughed. He laughed so hard he gripped his stomach and gasped, reaching for the arm of the sofa as he doubled over.
‘You?’ He snorted. ‘Cheat on me? As if.’ He pointed and laughed again. ‘Have you looked in the mirror recently? Have you? Who’d sleep with you, you fat bitch?’
‘I’m glad that you wanted to talk tonight.’ The laughter stopped as suddenly as it had started as James pulled himself up to his full height and smoothed down his clothes. ‘Because I wanted a little chat of my own. Things aren’t working, Suzy-Sue and I think we should split up.’
He stopped talking.
He was waiting for a reaction but I couldn’t work out what he wanted me to do. To cry? To beg him not to finish with me? To agree? Too scared to make the wrong decision, I said nothing at all.
‘Ah,’ he said after what felt like an age. ‘No reaction. No reaction to the man you claim you love more than life telling you he wants to leave you. How strange. That’s not the behaviour I’d expect of a woman in love.’
‘I … I do love you James but—’
‘LIAR!’ He spat the word in my face and I covered my face with my arms, cowering into a ball. ‘Filthy liar!’
I felt his fingers on my left wrist and, for a horrible moment, thought he was going to break my hand but then I felt a sharp tugging on my ring finger and I realized what he was doing. I peered through my arms as he crossed the living room and opened the window. The traffic outside roared in response.
‘Oh Granny.’ He held the ring aloft, between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. ‘I’m so sorry. I really thought I’d met the one. I thought I’d met my soulmate. But she didn’t love me Granny, not as much as she claimed.’ He stifled a sob. ‘So now it’s time to say bye bye. Not just to her, but to your ring too. Sorry to let you down, Granny. I tried. I really did.’
I watched, horrified as he pulled back his arm. He was going to throw the ring – a family heirloom – out of the window and it was all my fault.
‘No!’ I jumped off the sofa and hobbled towards him, my hands outstretched. ‘James, don’t. Your Granny wouldn’t have wanted—’
But it was too late. The ring flew through the window, arched over the road and landed in the path of an oncoming car.
‘It’s not too late.’ I grabbed James’s arm. ‘We can still get it. It might not be damaged.’
‘You money-grabbing bitch.’ He swiped at me and, unstable on my injured foot, I tumbled onto the carpet. ‘You don’t give a shit about me but you want to keep your precious ring, do you? Well, I’ve got news for you my darling gold digger,’ he stooped down and cupped my chin, forcing me to look up at him, ‘it’s not a fucking diamond and sapphire family heirloom. It’s a cheap piece of shit I picked up from Camden Market. You should have seen your face, lapping up that Great Granny shit like an alley cat with its nose in a bowl of cream. And you claim to be intelligent? Honestly.’
He pushed me away from him.
‘Mother said I was worth more than you – some bar scrubber with a sewing machine – and she was right.’ He shook his head. ‘Poor Mother. And to think I almost abandoned her to spend time with you. You! Jesus. Still, it’s true what they say about fat girls being easy.’ He crouched down again and ran a finger along the side of my jaw then pinched the small deposit of fat under my chin. ‘You might want to keep your legs crossed a bit longer with your next boyfriend. He might respect you a bit more.’
Chapter 18
‘Where did you go, darling? It’s okay, you can tell Mummy.’ I speak little louder than a whisper. It’s 5 a.m. and, save a couple of patients being woken for obs, most of the ward is asleep. I can hear the nurses chatting quietly at their station and, every now and then, I hear the creaking of trolley wheels or the squeak of shoes on lino as a member of staff crosses the corridor outside Charlotte’s room. The nurse who answered the intercom was surprised by my request to see Charlotte but, when I told her I’d had a terrible dream that my daughter’s life was in danger, she relented and buzzed me in. I’m sure I’m not the first parent who’s turned up in the middle of the night to check their child is okay and I’m sure I won’t be the last.
The dream was a lie though. I haven’t actually been to sleep yet. How could I when my mind is so full of questions? We talked for a long time after we returned from the school but, at 1 a.m., Brian insisted we go to bed. I lay next to him, listening to his snores and snuffles for four hours before I slipped out from beneath the duvet, gathered up my clothes from the chair beside the bed and got dressed in the bathroom.