I started the car and he moved reluctantly to the side, seconds before I roared across the car park to the exit, only pausing to look furiously in the mirror before I pulled out onto the main road. He was still standing there, watching me, his face now expressionless.
I swung right, violently, and started to drive, gripping the steering wheel tightly, before screaming out loud and slapping the wheel with both hands, my anger and fear exploding without warning, causing me to swerve dangerously close to the parked cars lining the road on either side. The bastard. The nasty, stupid, little bastard. I hurtled up to the traffic lights at the end of the road, on red, and stopped with a jolt, breathing too fast, before shoving the gearstick into first again and swinging out onto the main carriageway. My jaw was clenched so tightly – as I drove too close behind the painfully slow-moving traffic – that my muscles started to ache. ‘Just fucking MOVE!’ I yelled, as a bus, one vehicle up, pulled over to pick up passengers, forcing me to stop completely. I had no choice but to sit there helplessly as traffic streamed past on the other side of the road, the swirling rage beginning to solidify within my stomach into a huge, leaden lump as a suffocating tightness began to spread from my chest outwards and up my throat. David no longer believed me, I could tell. Unless I could convince him what he’d seen in the car park was not how it appeared, he really would report me. I hadn’t lied to Jonathan – he had a duty to.
I swallowed, acutely aware of the seriousness of this new situation, and glanced left to see a mother marching up the street crossly pulling the hand of a little girl who was crying and trying to keep up – almost having to run. She was about the same age as Maisie. My eyes welled up; I could feel her unhappiness so acutely it physically hurt. She was only small. Too tiny to be made so sad by her mummy.
What had I done? What the fuck had I done?
I had to look away and wiped my wet face with my hand as the tears started to spill over. I tried to think about when I should tell Rob what had happened. Should I do it straight away or wait and see if I could drive the girls to his mother’s first, in the morning? Tilly was such a light sleeper, she’d definitely wake if he started crashing around upstairs packing a bag, then Maisie would be disturbed too. It would be unbearably traumatic for them to see him leave in the night; because wouldn’t I do exactly that if I were him and was told the ‘stranger’ his wife slept with turned out to be a seventeen-year-old she had a connection to after all, and had been seen kissing only hours earlier?
The traffic began to move again. My anger had drained completely, leaving dry fear in its place as I tried to think clinically about practicalities. It probably would be better if the girls weren’t there. Nothing was going to formally happen until Monday morning now, so, although another fourteen hours wouldn’t make much difference to Rob, it could potentially be a great deal to our daughters.
When I finally pulled onto the drive, through the window I could see Rob playing monsters with Maisie and Tilly, chasing them round the sofas, arms outstretched as they tried to run away from him. I couldn’t hear the growling and the delighted screams but knew exactly how they would sound. I sat in the front seat and watched them for a moment, before climbing out and walking up to the front door, smiling as the girls saw me and pointed. I was just about able to hear the shouts of ‘Mummy!’ from behind the glass as they turned and ran to come and find me.
My key turned stiffly in the lock, and I pushed the door gently open in case either of them was already right behind it, but they were still rounding the corner. The house was warm and smelt comfortingly of cooking. Maisie jumped happily into my arms, and Tilly clasped at my leg. ‘Mummy’s home, Daddy!’ Maisie called, and Rob appeared in the sitting room doorway, puffing slightly, hair all over the place. He smiled happily at me. ‘Busy game of monsters on the go,’ he said as I kissed Maisie and then Tilly.
‘So I see! What fun!’ I laughed. The actions were all there, but I was completely numb inside. I could only picture myself reaching out and in slow motion sweeping the family photos off the sideboard, throwing the vase of roses on the floor, the glass smashing everywhere, the girls screaming for real, Rob rushing forward to stop me… because I had as good as broken it all. I put my bag down and caught my reflection in the hall mirror. I had to quickly turn away. I couldn’t look myself in the eye.
We put the girls through a bath and they busily told me all about their day; who they’d played with, what they’d had for lunch, their best and worst bits. I read Tilly stories as she lay on her tummy on her bed, and I sat on the carpet next to her. She listened carefully to The Highway Rat, twisting my hair absently round her finger. After her songs, I tucked her in, told her I loved her and added ‘Best littlest girl!’ to which she beamed and replied: ‘best mummy!’
‘That’s a lovely thing to say, darling, thank you! Night, night.’ I bit my lip to stop my tears, and quickly bent to kiss her before she noticed anything was wrong.
I took a moment outside Maisie’s room to compose myself before snuggling her down too and singing her songs, as I sat on the floor stroking her hair. She listened contentedly and when I got to my knees to lean over and kiss her good night, whispering ‘best biggest girl’, she wrapped her arms round my neck before gently, ever so softly, kissing my cheek. It was so uncomplicated and pure, it felt almost like a blessing, and I wished with all my heart it could absolve everything. I so badly wanted to be the best version of myself that she believed I was. I thought about how safe my mother had always made me feel, even though there must have been times when she was falling apart inside during the divorce from my dad and, as I left the room, I resolved then and there to do my best – whatever the aftermath – to make everything as bearable as possible for my daughters, and Rob. I wanted, very much, to blame Jonathan’s public kiss for what was going to come but, deep down, I knew my failings were all my own.
* * *
I changed out of my work skirt, top and tights and threw some pyjamas on over my underwear, before going downstairs into the sitting room to find my husband. He was on the sofa, computer on his lap. I sat on the sofa adjacent to him and curled my legs up and under me.
‘All right?’ he said.
‘I need to talk to you, Rob.’ So much for making sure the girls were out. I didn’t know I was going to say it, but the words were there before I realised they would be.
In any event, I was immediately proven to have made the right decision, because Rob replied: ‘Yeah, I know you do.’
He moved the laptop onto a cushion next to him and clasped his hands. ‘There’s a text on your phone from David that says: “I thought you’d told him it was over? Didn’t look like it to me, today. I can’t pretend this isn’t happening”.’ Rob glanced up at me briefly. ‘I went through the messages while you were upstairs because when I came into your room at work today and you weren’t expecting me, there was very obviously something going on between the two of you.’ His voice was flat and quiet. ‘You weren’t with the girls last weekend, were you? You were with David. When you told me you’d slept with someone else, it was actually him, wasn’t it, and now he wants you to leave me?’
For a moment or two, I was dumbstruck. What had we done to each other?
‘He’s always had a thing for you.’
‘He lives with his mother, and I’m almost certain he’s gay.’
‘No, he’s not,’ scoffed Rob.
‘In all the years I’ve known him, not once has he ever talked about a woman. But that’s irrelevant. I really was with the girls in Ibiza. David’s talking about something else.’ I took a deep breath. ‘The man I slept with last Saturday turns out to be a current patient of mine, and he’s seventeen.’