Friday 1 September 2017, 7.45 p.m.
‘So you came. I wasn’t sure you would.’
He looked tense, his shoulders tight, hands in his pockets. There was a part of me that felt for him. I understood his anger, pitied his desperation. But I had to end this now if I was to save my marriage. This lust, this craving had to end. He had given me a way out, offered me an escape. I had to sacrifice this part of me in order to save something that meant so much more.
‘Of course I came. You told me you were going to tell Andrew about us. I can’t let you do that.’
He laughed, but it sounded bitter and twisted. My fear began to grow. I looked back towards the car. I could still make out Joshua’s blonde hair, his feet up on the dashboard, his head buried in his book.
‘Somewhere you’d rather be?’ Guy asked as he moved towards me. He gripped my arm and I felt his fingers needle into my skin. ‘You think you can just tell me it’s over and that’s it?’ He made a metallic clicking noise with his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He began to pull me, forcing me to start walking. ‘Let’s go. We have a lot to talk about.’
He marched me forward, my footsteps barely able to keep up. I could hear his breathing, his urgency. He was as desperate as I was scared. We stopped at a small clearing, almost surrounded by trees. I could no longer see the car. He shoved me up against one of them, the bark scratching my left shoulder. I felt the fresh rush of stinging blood. He circled the ground ahead of me, his hands on his hips.
‘That hurt,’ I said, touching my fingertips to my wounded shoulder. ‘I came here to talk to you, not get pushed around.’
But he wasn’t listening. ‘Three days, Chloe. Do you remember what a phone is? When you get messages, you are supposed to reply.’
‘What is wrong with you, Guy? I told you already, it’s over. You expect me to answer you when you keep demanding to meet? When you tell me you’re going to come to my parents’ house, or Joshua’s school? I’ve told you already, I can’t see you any more.’ I stepped forward, stopped when he moved into my path. ‘Get out of my way. I only came here to tell you to stop calling me. We are finished. You have to understand that.’
He took three fast paces towards me and I felt his hands make contact with my arms. The motor of the lawnmower was getting closer. If I shouted, would somebody hear me?
‘You don’t get to play with my feelings, Chloe. I can’t switch off how I feel. Just because you say it’s over doesn’t mean I can move on, forget you exist. I love you.’
I shook my head. I didn’t want to hear it. ‘You can’t love me,’ I said. ‘I’m not yours to love.’
His grip intensified and he pushed me back against the same tree, then pressed himself up against me. He tried to kiss me, but I turned away from his lips. He moved down, found my neck, held me tight. I couldn’t breathe as his hands roamed across my body, hitched up my dress. I remembered what it felt like to want him, the wave of desire and lust from that very first night when we should have been watching my father’s presentation at the Roberta awards. Instead we went to the beach, where we fucked underneath the pier as we listened to footsteps treading the boards above. It was dangerous, exciting. It was an escape, and in that brief, intoxicating moment I became somebody else. In that moment I wasn’t the wife of an alcoholic. I wasn’t a mother scared for her son. And now here he was, up against me, his hands moving, wanting to get inside my body. But this time it felt so different.
‘I don’t want this, Guy. I don’t want you.’ I pushed him away, watched as he staggered back, surprised by my strength. I began to run. I had to get away. I heard his footsteps on the ground behind me as I felt the first drops of a summer downpour, my silk dress blushing black as it became wet. He reached out, made contact with my hand. Despite the slippery grip, he managed to pull me backwards. I turned to him, brought my free hand up, slapped him hard across the face.
‘Stop it, Chloe,’ he said, shaking me. He tried to pull me back towards the clearing. ‘I love you. Doesn’t that mean anything to you any more? You used to tell me you loved me too. Where have those feelings gone?’ I had said it, yes, but had I really meant it? I wasn’t sure. Was it love or just infatuation? The idea of a new life? ‘Please, Chloe,’ he said as he began to cry. ‘I need you.’
I had lain in his bed with his skin against mine, the soft touch of his hand running along the length of my body, and shivered when he whispered those words. I had needed him then too. I had fallen for him in those private moments, his touch, his presence, his stability. Being with him hadn’t been like that one time when my friendship with Ben almost spilled over into a silly kiss when I was experiencing a rough patch with Andrew. Oh no. Guy was prepared to give me everything I wanted. Wasn’t that what I desired from a man? Wasn’t that the woman I wanted to be?
‘I can’t do it, Guy. I can’t leave him. I can’t do it to Joshua.’
‘You deserve something better than him. So does Joshua. I have begged you for a chance to be his father. Why don’t you understand how good it could be? I can be there for you both. I can be what you need. I promise I will love your son like I love—’
‘Don’t say it.’ I couldn’t listen. I couldn’t let him break me. ‘I can’t do it to Andrew.’
I watched his face contort. ‘Don’t you say his name. Not to me.’
‘But he’s my husband, Guy.’
‘I don’t care. I’m the man you love.’
He inched towards me. I felt him close, pressed up against me. But then I felt his grip tighten and it began to hurt. He couldn’t let me go. Not now, not then. Not ever.
‘It doesn’t matter how we feel, Guy. Andrew can never find out about us. It would destroy him.’
For a second we were both still as he gripped my face, stared right into my eyes. And then he spoke. ‘But he already knows. I told him half an hour ago.’
I pulled back and he let me go. I reached down into my pocket, found my mobile. It was on silent because of Guy’s constant messaging. I had seven missed calls, all in the last thirty minutes. All from Andrew.
‘He’s been calling you, right? You see, you might as well come with me.’ I saw his desperation, saw him drowning. He was praying I might offer him a future together. ‘I did it so we never have to be apart. So we can be free.’
I knew then that I had nothing left for him. I shouldn’t have come here. I would get in the car, go to meet Andrew, and we would leave together. That was what I had to do. I could explain this. I couldn’t let my mistake be the thing that destroyed him, pushed him back to the drink. Everything about Guy was a mistake. For me and Andrew. For me and Joshua. I could still put this right. That was what I wanted, wasn’t it?
I turned and ran towards the café, nearing the rose garden. I could see my car just up ahead. I slid my hand into my pocket in search of my keys, but the set I pulled out was unfamiliar. I looked down, realised they were the keys I had picked up from the path. I dropped them and reached back into my pocket, but as I pulled out my own set, I felt Guy’s weight against me, tackling me to the ground. I glanced up and saw Joshua at the car window, staring as I struggled to get away. And then for a second he stopped, saw Joshua too, his little hands pressed up against the glass. I felt Guy’s hand grappling against mine, reaching for my keys.
‘No!’ I shouted, but he slapped me hard across my cheek and tore the keys from my grasp, and then he was on his feet, running towards the car. Towards my son. ‘Don’t you take him!’ I screamed. I waved frantically. ‘Josh! Get out of the car.’ I saw his door begin to open, felt a wave of relief. But then Guy pulled him back inside, slamming the door shut, and before I could reach them, he had started the engine, was pulling out.
The wipers were flipping back and forth as he tore up the road towards me. Gravel and wet earth spewed from beneath the wheels. I could see Joshua’s face pressed up against the window. I couldn’t hear him, but I knew that he was screaming. His mouth was open wide, his eyes narrow and tight. Tears were streaming down his face. He had never met Guy. He had no idea who was taking him.
I stood defiantly in the path of the car, sure that Guy would stop. But as he got closer and closer, I realised he had no intention of avoiding me. I fell back, the wing of the car just clipping my leg as he flew past, then scrambled to my knees and watched helplessly as he sped away, the back wheels swinging left and right.
For a second I didn’t know what to do. I stood there looking for help, some way to undo what I had done. And then I remembered the other keys, the bunch I had thrown to the ground. I snatched them up, ran to the car that had parked behind mine. As I pulled away, I saw a man rushing towards me, his hands flailing in the air. He was shouting, screaming at me to stop, to get out of his car. I would have hit him as I accelerated, but he jumped out of the way just in time.
I raced up the road as fast as the car would go. I saw my car turning right out of the park gates. I didn’t stop as I reached the junction; only just missed a pedestrian on the crossing. All I could see before me was the red rear lights of my car, a blur in the distance. The wipers batted back and forth. All I could imagine was Joshua screaming my name. Mummy. Mummy. Mummy.
The car turned onto Ditchling Road, and I followed. I could see it slipping all over the place. At one point I got too close and felt a collision. And then as the rain intensified and the road became narrower, I saw it skid from the road, crashing through the undergrowth and disappearing down the embankment. I slammed on the brakes, sliding to a halt against a tree, then forced the door open, ran as fast as I could.
‘Joshua!’ I shouted. But all I could hear was the rain drumming against the canopy of trees.
I scrambled down the embankment, falling in the undergrowth, cutting my leg open on a branch. I yelped in pain as I pulled myself on, grappling to get to my feet. And then I saw it. My car. Wrecked. My child. Lying on the ground. I ran forward, sank to my knees, pulled him close.
‘Joshua, it’s OK. Mummy’s here now.’
‘Mummy,’ he said. I panicked, unsure what to do. I scooped him up, scared to touch him but knowing it was the only thing I had left. I held him close to my chest and watched as his breathing grew faster, then slower. I stroked the rain away from his eyes, tried to shelter him so that he didn’t get wet. ‘Mummy,’ he said again. Seconds later, he took his last breath. And I felt my world crumble. Every dream I’d ever had shattered. I held his floppy body close, screamed into the wild night air. I could feel him leaving me, a physical pain. How could it be that I would never see him again, hear his sweet voice, kiss his warm skin? Everything I cared about was gone, fallen apart. I had led us here, to this moment when all time stopped. There was nothing left for me after this.
I laid him gently down on the ground, positioned his arms carefully at his sides. Then I reached for the nearest fallen tree branch, something large, something heavy, something with which I could protect myself. Something that could hurt Guy. I wanted to tear him apart, feel the rip of his skin, the breaking of his bones.
I heard shuffling in the undergrowth, footsteps staggering through wet leaves. I turned, and there he was, edging towards me, barely a scratch on him. I charged forward, ready to strike. But he blocked me with his left arm and struck me with his right, and I fell to the ground, out cold.
When I lost my son, I lost my past and my future too. Guy might have given me back myself when I couldn’t remember who I was, but he had also taken everything I held dear.