~
The sun is shining on the morning of the barbecue. Alex is in good spirits and Chloe is gurgling in his arms as he sits in the kitchen, chatting to me. Leaning against the worktop with my arms folded, I watch them together, but somehow I can’t quite catch their carefree air.
Observing Alex with Chloe, I wonder, not for the first time, why his ex-wife refuses to let him near their daughters. I understand that it might not have been plain sailing being married to Alex, but he really is a wonderful father. Perhaps I should try and track Melanie down. If I tell her Poppy and Violet have a sister, maybe she’ll change her mind about keeping them from seeing their father.
It’s as if Chloe knows she’s in good hands now her daddy’s home. She’s so much calmer this morning than she was when Alex was away at his mother’s. She cries a lot less and seems happier when it’s her daddy who is taking care of her. Either she prefers him to me, or she can sense that he knows what he’s doing whereas I still feel like I’m fumbling inexpertly every time I take my baby girl into my arms.
I wish I could say the same for me, that I’m calm when Alex is around, too. But I’m not. Far from it. He’s having the opposite effect on me. I seem to be in a permanent state of anxiety. Soon I won’t be able to remember what it felt like not to feel anxious. To feel safe and adored, instead of scared and despised.
Alex is going for a long run before checking in on Sandy. He calls me over and gently transfers our daughter, who is now sleeping, into my arms. Then he bends down to tie up his shoelaces. His chair scrapes as he stands up, startling Chloe. Alex pecks me on the cheek and then blows a raspberry on Chloe’s hand before he leaves. Chloe starts to wail just as the front door bangs closed. The spell is broken.
I stand up and position Chloe on her tummy across my arm. When she screams even louder, I rock her. I talk to her, but my soothing voice and words are as much for my benefit as hers.
My family arrive at the Old Vicarage before I’ve had a chance to get dressed. I’m overjoyed to see them again. My father doesn’t even look at me; he goes straight for Chloe, who, by now, has cried herself to sleep.
‘You’d better get used to it.’ Julie laughs. ‘Once you have a baby, no one pays attention to you anymore.’
‘It’s the same when you have a dog,’ my dad says, still engrossed in his granddaughter.
‘So, what would you like to do today?’ Daniel asks me. ‘Do you want to go out with Julie while your dad and I look after Chloe and the boys? Or do you need help with something?’
Julie has obviously briefed Daniel on his mission for this weekend.
‘Well, actually, we’re having a barbecue this evening. There’ll be quite a few of us. I could do with a hand. I need to make a lot of food.’
‘OK,’ says Daniel. ‘All hands on deck then.’
‘Where’s Alex?’ Julie asks, as if she has just noticed he’s absent.
‘Oh, he’s out training and then he’s going round to his mother’s. She had a bad fall.’
‘Poor Humpty,’ says Daniel, who knows I’m not that fond of Sandy.
‘And he left you to get everything ready for this evening?’ Julie asks incredulously. I see everyone’s gaze on me – even Dad has torn his eyes away from his granddaughter – and I feel my cheeks go red.
‘Yes, well, no … it’s his birthday today.’ Seeing disapproval written all over Julie’s face, I add, ‘The barbecue was sort of a surprise party, really.’ The lie comes effortlessly out of my mouth and sounds so convincing I almost believe it myself. ‘I invited his friends ages ago.’ I’m shocked by my own mendacity. Why am I making up excuses for him? Because I’m embarrassed, I suppose. Or ashamed. Or both.
‘How many of us are there?’ Julie asks.
‘Twelve. The six of us, five of Alex’s friends and Alex of course.’ I realise I have counted myself with my family instead of with Alex. That seems a bit strange.
‘And Jet. That makes thirteen,’ Archie says.
‘Unlucky for some,’ says Daniel.
‘Not for us,’ I say, sounding more sure of that than I feel. ‘This has to be perfect. I think Alex is a bit grumpy about turning forty. I want to cheer him up.’
‘Let’s get to work, then,’ Julie says.
I get showered and dressed while Daniel makes everyone tea and then we all busy ourselves in the kitchen. Oscar and Archie prove to be young chefs in the making and I’m very impressed. Julie informs me they’re addicted to The Great British Bake Off. Daniel also turns out to be a big help.
Chloe alternates between sleeping very deeply, despite the noise we’re making, and squalling. When she cries, nothing seems to pacify her. Dad patiently walks up and down the hallway with her, singing lullabies to her as she screams in accompaniment.
I’m worried that she might be sickening for something, but Dad assures me that there’s nothing I can do. Babies cry. Fact. Exception: she doesn’t cry so much for Alex. I almost wish he were here. I feel oddly comforted that my dad can’t do anything to calm Chloe, either.
By mid-afternoon, we’ve nearly finished the preparations. Daniel offers to see to what’s left while Julie and I go into Keswick. Julie wants to buy Alex a birthday present and I want to buy a suitable sundress for this evening. I’ve lost several pounds since giving birth to Chloe, thanks to Alex’s special diet, but I’m still at a stage where my pre-pregnancy clothes are a bit too tight and my maternity clothes are now way too big.
When we get back home, Alex is feeding Chloe while talking to Dad and Daniel in the sitting room. Archie and Oscar are playing electronic games.
When Julie has greeted Alex and asked after his mother, she turns to Daniel. ‘Don’t we have a rule?’ she asks, nodding her head in the direction of her sons.
‘We do,’ he says, ‘but they’ve been so helpful I thought we could bend it a little.’
‘Rules are made to be broken,’ Alex says.
‘You’re quite right, Alex,’ Julie agrees. Daniel raises his eyebrows at me in surprise.
I go upstairs to get ready for this evening and when I come back down, only Oscar and Archie are in the sitting room. They’re concentrating on their screens and don’t notice me.
I make my way out to the garden, where four of Alex’s guests are standing with my family while Alex serves everyone drinks. I spot the pram in the shade of the damson tree. Chloe must have fallen asleep.
‘You look lovely, darling,’ Alex says loudly, admiring my new dress and walking towards me to take his place at my side. ‘Come and meet everyone.’
Alex shoots me one of his meaningful looks. Sometimes their meanings are lost in translation. But not today. Today I’ve got the message loud and clear. His look says: We will make the right impression. We’ll show everyone that we’re the perfect couple. But to make sure there’s no room for misunderstanding, he grips my arm just a little too hard as he steers me towards his friends. Or maybe it’s my imagination.
‘You already know Mike and Sarah …’
‘Hi.’ I lean in as Sarah makes a ‘mwuaah’ sound somewhere near my cheek, leaving me relieved that she won’t have left any of her lipstick on my face. Alex has a bright red SWALK mark on his cheek, I notice with amusement. I don’t feel the urge to rub it off. Mike gives me a big hug in greeting.
‘This is Stacey and––’
‘Hello, I’m Tom,’ says the man standing next to Stacey.
I’ve seen Tom and Stacey before. I can’t think where. They make a strangely assorted couple, it seems to me. She’s about average height, but he’s very small and she’s probably taller than him even without those wedge-heeled shoes. She has a mane of brown wiry hair, held back by a thick Alice band, whereas he’s completely bald. He has a handsome face and she’s rather plain. He has lovely eyes; hers are hidden by her sunglasses.
I make polite conversation with Tom, admiring my sister and Daniel, who are chatting away to Mike and Sarah easily. I feel self-conscious and clumsy. I’m out of practice at making small talk. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Stacey making a fuss of Jet.
‘You look like you could do with a drink,’ Tom says. ‘You’re the only one who hasn’t got one.’
We head over to the kitchen table, which Daniel and the boys carried outside earlier so that we could put all the food on it and let everyone help themselves to the buffet.
Tom and I chat amiably for a while. He claims he’s a boring accountant, but he strikes me as interesting and cultivated. I’m only half-listening to what he’s saying even so, as I’m still trying to remember where I’ve seen him before. I almost make the mistake of asking him. But then it comes to me. At the pool. The day I heard Alex’s voice and made Vicky hide in the café with me until he’d gone in for his swim. He was with Mike and Sarah, Tom and Stacey.
I eat a couple of canapés and then cram a mini sausage roll into my mouth.
‘Stacey wants a dog,’ Tom says, watching her playing with Jet and talking to my dad. ‘She doesn’t want babies yet because she’s still competing. She’s been on about a dog for a while.’ He’s smiling fondly. ‘I’d better go and make friends with your dad’s Lab. Excuse me.’
Realising I haven’t touched the drink that Tom poured for me, I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip of the chilled champagne. And then a gulp. The bubbles explode in my mouth, and for a second I feel like I’m in my own blissful bubble.
Until Alex saunters up to me and bursts it.
‘Better not eat too many crisps,’ he says. The expression on his face belies his jovial tone of voice. When I scowl, he adds, ‘Just saying. You’ve still got some pregnancy weight to lose.’
Julie walks by us at that moment, but she doesn’t appear to have heard Alex, who follows her with his eyes.
‘If you’re not careful, you’ll end up with an arse like that sister of yours.’ He squeezes my bottom. ‘It’s the only thing about her you could call generous.’
I think Daniel has overheard, though. He doesn’t turn round, but I see him stop in his tracks briefly, ever so briefly, as he walks behind my sister across the lawn.
Oblivious to Daniel, Alex gives a guffaw that, combined with the words he has just uttered, leave me feeling chilled to the bone despite the warm summer evening. He nudges my arm, making me spill some of my champagne. ‘Only joking!’ he says. ‘I know, it was a bit below the belt.’ This makes him laugh even more. ‘See what I did there?’ At that moment, to my relief, his phone goes.
‘Oh, I’ll come and let you in,’ I hear him say before he strides into the house, pushing his phone into the back pocket of his ripped jeans. I reflect bitterly that Alex hasn’t really got ‘togged up’.
A minute or so later, I hear Alex’s voice behind me. I hadn’t seen him come back out and I jump.
‘Katie, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.’
I turn around to see a blonde woman who’s a bit younger and a lot smaller than me. She looks like she’s dressed for the beach, in denim shorts and silver sandals, showing off legs that are both toned and tanned. She’s got a low-cut top on, which matches her baby blue eyes. She smiles sweetly, revealing teeth so white they probably glow in the dark. In short, she looks like a less dainty and more muscular version of Barbie.
‘This is Becca,’ Alex says.
‘Kaitlyn,’ I say, holding out my hand formally as my mind races with questions. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
‘Becca is a top triathlete,’ says Alex over his shoulder as he walks away to fetch her a drink.
‘Rebecca Brown?’ I ask.
‘That’s right,’ she says. ‘How did you know that?’
‘Oh, Alex has mentioned you once or twice.’
Alex reappears at my side and hands Becca a flute of champagne. She’s holding two wrapped gifts in her hands and she hands him one of them in order to take the glass.
‘Happy birthday, Alex.’
He rips the gift paper off and scrunches it into a ball. It’s a bottle of Scotch. Alex makes such a fuss about it that I have a flash of myself snatching the bottle from his hands and hitting him over the head with it.
He reads the label out loud. ‘Highland Single Malt Scotch Whisky. Blair Athol.’
‘The distillery’s near the Grampian Mountains, where my gramps lives,’ Becca informs him with a little giggle.
‘I know it, actually. Well, I recognise the name. And the logo with the otter,’ Alex says. ‘Thank you so much, Becca.’
I can feel myself frowning, but neither Becca nor Alex notice. I look around for an escape route, someone to go and talk to, but I spot Julie and Daniel making their way towards us. I’m trapped.
‘And this is for you,’ Becca says, thrusting the other present into my hands. ‘Well, it’s for the baby, really.’
‘Oh. Thank you.’
I open the card first. There’s a printed message and Becca has written underneath: To Kaitlyn and Alex, Best Wishes on the birth of your Beautiful Baby. Love, Bexxx. I suddenly see her text message to Alex in my head. She signed it the same way. I open the present and look at the picture on the box. It’s a beautiful handmade wooden mobile with princesses and flowers. I make an appreciative oooh sound.
‘It’s for the baby’s bedroom,’ Becca says, unnecessarily.
‘I’ll put that on Chloe’s cot tomorrow,’ Alex says, taking the box from my hands. ‘It looks easy enough to assemble.’ Turning to me, he adds, ‘It’s high time we made a proper bedroom for Chloe, don’t you think?’
Each time I’ve suggested making Chloe’s bedroom into a nursery, Alex has come up with excuses. ‘We don’t know whether it’s a boy or a girl.’ ‘But it’s already a perfectly decorated girl’s bedroom.’ ‘We don’t have any free time at the moment.’
My breasts suddenly start tingling and I look down. A squeak of horror escapes my mouth. I have two big round wet patches on my dress.
‘Oh dear,’ I say, feeling Alex’s eyes on me. ‘Small emergency. Please excuse me.’ Embarrassed, I walk briskly towards the house. As I reach the back door, I turn my head and see Alex staring after me. It seems to me he can barely disguise his disgust.
I’m blinking back tears as I go upstairs to my bedroom. With getting everything ready for tonight, I completely forgot to express my milk and now it has leaked all down the front of my brand-new sundress. Now what am I going to wear?
Rummaging around in the chest of drawers, I find a long, colourful T-shirt that I’d forgotten all about among the non-maternity wear. When I’ve expressed my milk, I wriggle into my black jeans, leaving the button undone and pulling the T-shirt down to hide it. My hands are shaking so much that I don’t think I could have done up the button even if I was slim enough.
Feeling strangely disconnected from my body, I walk slowly down the stairs. Julie appears at the bottom.
‘Ah, I was just coming to see if you were OK,’ she says. ‘Now let’s go and see if they’ve left us any food. And champagne.’ Taking my arm, she leads me into the garden.
Outside, Alex is handing around plates of food. Everyone seems to be standing in a group around him, drawn to him like a magnet. We walk over to join them.
‘You look just as beautiful in that top as in your sundress,’ he says, putting his arm around my shoulders, ‘and just as beautiful as the day I met you again after all those years.’
Sometimes he says all the right things and I remember why I fell in love with him.
‘Aww,’ Sarah says.
‘I didn’t realise you’d known each other before,’ Stacey says. I’m glad she ended her sentence there. In my head, though, I finish it. Before your one-night stand.
This is all the encouragement Alex needs. He tells his captivated guests about how we fell in love; about the friend request I sent him on Facebook, about our emails and phone calls and FaceTime conversations. He says he had a crush on me at school, which is news to me. I thought it was the other way round. I suspect he’s embellishing our story to make our marriage appear unblemished. Or to make our wedding seem less precipitated. He tells everyone how well we get on with each other, how we’re made for one another.
He doesn’t mention the part where he got me pregnant in a hotel room in Exeter, although I’m sure everyone here knows that bit. In this version of our love story, I moved up here because we could no longer bear to be apart.
Alex is on his best behaviour for the rest of the evening. Apart from the remark he made earlier about my sister, which I’ve put down to a clumsy joke on Alex’s part, and, of course, the glitch with the sundress, the whole barbecue party seems to have been perfect. Perfect for everyone, but especially for Alex.
When all the guests have gone, Alex and I clear up the leftover food and decide to leave everything else until tomorrow. I follow him into the sitting room, where he pours himself a drink from the bottle of Scotch Becca gave him for his birthday. The bottle I gave him is still sitting on the coffee table. I don’t say anything; I don’t want to ruin the mood. I’m still feeling a little high from the champagne. I sit down on the sofa.
‘That was a great evening, wasn’t it?’ His tone is light, and at first I think he’s on the same wavelength as me, thinking the same thoughts as me. He doesn’t look angry; he doesn’t even sound angry. But then I notice the way he’s hunching his shoulders and pursing his lips. I can tell he’s mad about something. I can feel it. In my gut. A familiar squeeze, as if by an invisible hand inside me. In the room, as if there’s an electric charge. Or an explosive charge.
He starts to pace up and down the room. His fury is a time bomb, set to go off. If I make the wrong move, he’ll blow up. If I can find the right thing to say, maybe I can defuse the situation.
‘Your friends are lovely, Alex,’ I hazard.
For a second or two, he looks at me and I can see recognition in his gaze. But then he disappears behind dead eyes. It’s too late.
‘My mum said you were a two-faced promiscuous bitch,’ he hisses. ‘I didn’t believe her at the time.’
His words hit me harder than if he’d punched me.
‘I wouldn’t listen. We had a huge row about it. You came between my mother and me.’ He has started to shout. ‘I should have known she was right. After all, you slept with me on our first date. And you weren’t even bothered about using protection.’
‘Alex, that’s not how it happened, and you know it!’
‘I saw you. I was watching you. You followed Tom around like a dog tonight; your tongue was practically hanging out of your mouth.’
So, that’s what this is about.
‘I had to stand around and put up with it while everyone saw you making a fool out of me.’
‘Alex! Stop!’ I screech so loudly that he does stop for a moment. ‘You’re being ridiculous. I’ve just given birth – to your baby – and the last thing on my mind is sex. With you or anyone else for that matter. How can you possibly imagine that I want to sleep around? I’ve been unfaithful once in my entire life. With you, not to you.’
‘But you were flirting.’
I open my mouth to argue, but then an image bursts into my head. Me, sitting at the kitchen table, looking through Alex’s phone. I suddenly feel hypocritical. I’d been quick to wonder if Alex was cheating on me with Rebecca and he has just accused me of trying to seduce another man under his nose. We were both mistaken. We’re both in the wrong.
The big difference is that he got mad and called me names.
Alex has a vacant look on his face. It’s over. He’s calm again. Until the next time. But I don’t want there to be a next time.
‘Alex, I can’t put up with this anymore,’ I say softly. ‘I’m going to go back to Somerset with my family tomorrow.’ I’m not certain I mean this, but I don’t have the strength to go another round. ‘For a little while, at least.’
‘No, Katie, don’t do that,’ Alex begs. ‘I didn’t mean any of it.’ He sits down on the sofa next to me and takes my hand. I notice a tear snaking its way down his cheek. ‘My ex-wife was a complete nymphomaniac. She slept with many of my friends. I was always the last to find out who she was … seeing.’
I want to say something, but I don’t know what, so I wait for him to continue.
‘I tried so hard, but I simply wasn’t good enough for her. I wasn’t enough for her.’
His whole body is racked with sobs now. I pull my hand away and put my arm around him. He lies down across my knees. My hand hovers for a second or two, but then I run my fingers through his hair.
‘Melanie left me … on my birthday.’ I only just make out the words as he spews them into my lap. ‘I’m paranoid now. I ask myself every day, if I wasn’t good enough for her, how can I possibly be good enough for Katie? I’m terrified of letting you in sometimes because I’m afraid I’m going to lose you. If you ever leave me, I’ll lose another daughter, too. I can’t go through that again.’
I still can’t find anything to say. Alex doesn’t truly believe I love him, I realise, not because he doubts me, but because he thinks he’s unlovable. He seems so convinced he’ll wreck everything between us that he waits for the damage he has caused to prove him right.
‘I love you, Katie. I couldn’t live without you. I wouldn’t want to. I’d rather die.’
I rub his back with one hand and finger the medallion around my neck with the other while I let Alex’s words sink in. They instantly bring to my mind his suicide attempt all those years ago after his girlfriend had broken up with him in Australia. I don’t think that’s what’s going through his head, though. I don’t believe he’d try to end his life if I left him. In fact, I’m sure that’s not what he meant.
‘Alex, you can’t hurt me just because you’ve been hurt,’ I say. ‘It’s not an excuse.’
‘I know. You’re the last person on earth I want to hurt, Katie. I’ll do better. It’ll get better. I’ll get help, see a therapist, whatever it takes. I don’t deserve you,’ he continues, ‘but I want to become worthy of you. You make me a better person most of the time. Please say you’ll help me learn to be that person all of the time. All I want is to make you and Chloe as happy as you make me.’
‘You were vile tonight,’ I say, but I’m caving in.
‘I know.’ He sits up, sniffing. ‘I shouldn’t drink so much. It brings out the worst in me.’ He lowers his head, looking suitably sheepish. ‘I didn’t mean what I said about your sister. Julie is one of the most generous people I know. I’m just jealous because I’m an only child and you’re so close to her.’ He dabs his nose with his bare forearm. ‘I’m fucked up, aren’t I?’
‘Anyone would be with what you’ve been through, Alex,’ I say.
I don’t add what I’m thinking. I hope he’s not so messed up that he can’t be patched up.
I get up and fetch him a tissue. As he blows his nose loudly, I think about what he has said. The one word he should have said, but didn’t, was ‘sorry’. The words ‘I love you’ roll off his tongue easily, but he seems to find it almost impossible to apologise. Not that sorry would make it all OK.
I’m well aware Alex uses words to berate me and belittle me. He chooses his words carefully when he wants to cajole or control me. And he invariably finds the right words to inveigle his way back into my heart.
I work with words, or I used to, I reflect. That’s my job; that was my career. And yet, I’m falling for this. I’m falling for him all over again. I should know better by now. But I’m letting him talk me into getting back onto this endless rollercoaster ride with him.
As these thoughts chase each other around in my head, Alex kisses me. A slow, tender kiss. I don’t stop him. I can’t decide if I’m strong or weak.