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FOR A MOMENT AFTER opening her eyes, Michelle felt calm. Then she remembered the email and a sense of loss washed over her.
Why did she get it so wrong with men? She could often identify a medical condition in her patients from the subtlest symptom. Yet when it came to blokes, she was blind to the obvious.
At least she’d been dignified in the way she’d ended things with Dan. Writing clear, concise emails was one of her strengths. You didn’t get to be a senior nurse in the NHS without learning how to pen a good email along the way. She smiled with pride at her professionalism and gave herself a mental pat on the back.
The Alka-Seltzer XS fizzed in the glass, as Judy’s car disappeared out of the cul-de-sac and Michelle logged onto her laptop.
‘Oh, my God, I must have been hammered.’ She re-read her drunken ramblings and longed to snatch the words off the screen. Then, with a spark of hope, Michelle remembered how late it was when she’d sent the email. She’d recall it before he could read it. ‘Nooo,’ she cried as she discovered there was no recall facility.
No sooner had she typed please ignore last email into the subject bar, than an incoming mail notification flashed up in the corner of the screen. He’d seen it. This induced a nausea that had nothing to do with the hangover.
You’re clearly pissed...
She jabbed the off button and ripped the plug from the socket in a futile attempt to make herself invisible. Her mobile began to ring and vibrate against the glass tabletop, but she didn’t dare look at it in case it was Dan and he could somehow see her. Then the landline started, he didn’t have that number.
‘Hel–’
‘Where are you?’ said Sara in a terse tone. ‘Why didn’t you answer your mobile?’
‘At home.’ Michelle slumped into the leather rocking chair by the phone, relieved to have an excuse not to read any further.
‘Dana’s Deli? Remember?’
‘Oh, right. Sorry. You going?’ Despite the Alka-Seltzer XS, Michelle felt rough and hoped Sara had changed her mind.
‘I’m sitting here like Billy No-mates. You said ten o’clock.’
She eyed the abandoned laptop. ‘Okay, okay. I’m on my way.’
***
FROM HER POSITION ACROSS the road from Dana’s Deli, Michelle could see Sara through the window, ensconced on a leather sofa and reading a book, probably a dog-eared Harry Potter. Sara was beautiful. Her father’s dark brown hair and Mediterranean looks were the only good things he’d given her. As usual she appeared effortlessly chic, in skinny jeans, a white T-shirt and red wedge-heeled sandals.
She had to admit Fermín was an attractive man. She’d noticed him as soon as she’d walked into the nightclub with her student friends, that first weekend after arriving for the study year in Pamplona. If only she’d been able to see the selfish, narcissistic streak behind his white-toothed smile, as their eyes had met across the bar. Then again, if he hadn’t been such a good liar, she wouldn’t have stuck around long enough to have Sara – the thing she was most proud of in her life.
The smell of diesel wafted over as a bus changed gear on its way up the hill out of Ashpeth. It took Michelle back to when Sara was small, and they’d catch the bus down to town for the weekly shop. She smiled as a memory popped into her mind – herself and Sara holding hands and skipping down the street past Dana’s Deli, when it was Morgans the Tailor. They had giggled the whole time, jumping extra high as the steep hill propelled them down towards Woolworths.
Sara used to love Woolworths and, given the chance, would have spent hours looking at every single item in the toy section, from pencil cases to Barbie’s shoe and handbag collection. Michelle’s stomach tightened with regret. Money had been so scarce back then. Most of Sara’s friends lived in plush houses and possessed lots of ‘stuff’. If only she could go back and make Sara’s childhood better.
The delicious aroma of strong coffee hit her as she pushed open the heavy door. The trendy décor, with its asymmetrical coffee bean paintings and wooden furniture and flooring, was a comforting contrast to the grim atmosphere outside.
‘Hiya, I’ve been here yonks.’ Sara reached up from her seat for a hug. ‘I didn’t want to join the queue in case I lost this table.’
‘Nothing to do with that padlock on your purse then?’ laughed Michelle. ‘What would you like?’
Sara wiggled her eyebrows and sniggered. ‘The usual please.’
‘But they never understand.’
‘Don’t exaggerate,’ laughed Sara.
‘What can I get you?’ the barista said with a sullen look. The word Barista was embroidered on her shirt above a coffee bean with a smiley face on it. There was a dirty smudge next to the bean.
‘Could I have one Americano in a “to go” cup, with pouring cream on the side and one double espresso, with warm milk on the side please?’
‘Are they both “to go”?’
‘Neither are. I’d like the Americano in a “to go” cup. You know, a cardboard one.’
The barista scowled. ‘I know what a “to go” cup is. You get a proper cup inside.’
‘Yes, but I would like the Americano in a disposable one please.’
The barista rolled her eyes at her colleague and pointed her thumb in Michelle’s direction, revealing an angel tattoo on her forearm.
‘Excuse me, you do realise I’m still here, don’t you?’ said Michelle.
The barista trudged away. ‘Did you say you wanted warm milk in it?’ she asked, looking back over her shoulder. ‘And it has to go in the cup, with a lid on it. Health and safety.’
Michelle shot Sara a look. Sara’s shoulders shook as she giggled. After further hassle over the espresso, a frazzled Michelle returned to the table with the tray of drinks. ‘I’m having a hell of a morning. Bloody cardboard cups – stress makes my fatigue condition worse you know.’
‘Mam, do you realise how many germs are on your cup?’
‘The cups in your house are filthy.’ Michelle pictured Sara’s shared student accommodation, with the pile of dirty dishes permanently adorning the kitchen sink.
‘Our filth. Not some tramp’s minging germs.’
‘Where does this excessiveness come from?’ Michelle cleaned her seat with a Wet One. After drying it with a clean tissue, she flopped down and let out a contented sigh as she relaxed into the soft leather.
The sound of her mobile ringing interrupted her moment of peace. She pulled it reluctantly from her bag and squinted at the screen, not wanting to see the caller ID. A wave of relief washed over her as she saw it was a withheld number. There were three missed calls, presumably from the same call centre. Unsolicited calls usually irritated her, but she didn’t mind today, it meant they weren’t from Dan.
‘It’s quite nice in here for Ashpeth, isn’t it?’ said Sara. ‘Sometimes I bring my laptop through and work on my dissertation.’ She glanced over at the baristas and slid a Cadbury’s Finger of Fudge along the table.
Michelle smiled as she took receipt of the illicit item and scanned the room before opening it, using her handbag as a screen. As a child, Sara had never questioned why treats were sneaked into cafes and eaten surreptitiously, but as an adult she’d carried on with the thrifty practice herself.
Sara squinted at Michelle’s face. ‘Is that blue mark under your lip getting bigger?’
Her hand automatically went up to cover it. ‘No.’
‘It never used to look like a map.’ Sara wrinkled her nose. ‘It’s awful.’
Michelle rummaged in her bag and pulled out a compact mirror. She opened her mouth and stretched her bottom lip over her teeth, turning her head from side to side to inspect the area.
‘Stop it, you look simple.’ Sara grabbed the compact and dropped it back into Michelle’s bag then fished out a nail file. ‘Anyway, what’ve you been up to this week?’
‘Work’s been hectic. I’ve been too tired to fit much else in, apart from one jogging session. What about you?’
‘You don’t help yourself with your job and lifestyle. You should chill out more. Look after yourself a bit better.’
‘Fat chance. Half the time I don’t even get a lunch break.’
Sara sighed. ‘Stop being such a doormat. You taught me that if we don’t respect ourselves, no one else will.’ She took a bite of her Cadbury’s Fudge.
Michelle smiled, pleased Sara had remembered what she’d tried to instil in her.
‘Why don’t you just cut back on your hours?’
‘Don’t be daft. Who’s going to support you if I do that?’
‘At least exercise more. You can’t afford to let yourself go any further at your age.’
Michelle breathed in and smoothed down her stomach with one hand. ‘I’m already jogging. It’s the fatigue condition that’s the problem.’
‘I’m just trying to encourage you to be healthier. I hate to see you so shattered. And it’s seems to get worse when you’re stressed. We had a seminar about people pleasers becoming frazzled and worn out – they could have been talking about you.’ Sara held up her hand to inspect a perfect nail. ‘Oh, please would you phone my idiot dad and tell him he can’t come over to stay? He won’t listen to me. Apart from the fact that we have no room – and the other girls would go mad – I have to study.’
‘Talk about stress... It must be at least a year since he’s been in touch.’
‘I don’t care any longer.’
The thought of Fermín made Michelle burn with anger. She’d just about coped with his selfish ways when she was married to him and they were directed towards her, but she couldn’t stand it when he was dismissive towards Sara. He’d missed her last birthday and Christmas – not even a card, or a text – but now wanted to pick her up again, because it suited him. ‘Such a narcissist.’
‘I can’t be doing with him right now, not when I’ve got my dissertation to finish. He refuses to accept I’m an adult.’ She looked at Michelle and smiled sweetly. ‘That reminds me. Please would you help me re-structure my literature review?’
Michelle’s stomach churned with dread. She’d already read and given feedback on two drafts of the entire paper.
Sara’s phone pinged. She turned away to read a text and then swung back around to face Michelle, her eyes blazing with anger. ‘Well, he won’t be helping.’
‘What on earth...?’
Sara shook her head, her lips clamped into a thin pencil line. ‘That bloody Dan. Judy says she’s worried about you. How could you?’
Michelle gasped. ‘She had no right to say anything.’
‘You said he was just a friend. Are you having an affair now?’
‘How dare you –’
‘All of my life, you’ve lectured me about morals. “Do the right thing. Don’t lie. Respect others. Loyalty.” Blah, blah blah.’
‘And I stand by everything.’
‘You can’t teach me it’s wrong to mess around with a married man, and then do it yourself.’
‘Stop it,’ said Michelle, shocked at such a vitriolic attack. She might have been preachy on the moral front but, in spite of her own current dilemma, she did believe in everything she’d tried to teach Sara. She’d devoted her life to keeping her daughter safe and doing the very best she could for her. ‘I am not messing around with him. You begrudge me having a friend? Would you rather I sat at home alone, correcting the slapdash grammar in your dissertation?’
‘No, of course not. Mam, I can understand that you must get lonely – you’ve been on your own for years. There’s nothing that would make me happier than for you to find a lovely partner. But what you’re doing with that two-timing Dan is wrong.’
Michelle held the tiny espresso cup in front of her like a shield of protection. ‘Shh! People are looking. He’s no more than a good friend. He reminds me of Aunty Mel.’
Sara’s eyes widened. ‘Don’t bring my Aunty Mel into this.’ She stood up and jabbed her finger at her. ‘Remember how you felt when Grandad abandoned Nana for another woman? Wasn’t Sylvia supposed to be a friend?’
Michelle stood up to face Sara. ‘He’s not abandoning his wife, and I’m not another woman,’ she hissed. ‘And I’m nothing like blooming Sylvia.’
‘He pretends he’s doing himself a hardship by staying in his “loveless” marriage and making sure his precious daughter doesn’t get hurt. Wake up. It’s all a cowardly excuse, and it’s exactly this that stops him from being a “good man”.’
What the hell had Judy written in that text? Michelle felt betrayed. ‘His wife knows he’s in touch with me. He told her.’
It was true. Penny hadn’t cared about the male friends he’d recently contacted through Childhoodchums, but she hadn’t been happy about Michelle. In fact, she’d lost half a stone in one week and started smoking again, to show Dan what he’d done to her. Penny had lots of friends, male and female, and she saw them whenever and wherever she chose. Apparently, that was different.
Sara slumped into her seat. ‘Mam, he’s going to hurt you.’
Michelle sat down, uncomfortable with the attention they were drawing from other customers. ‘He’s not sleeping with either of us,’ she whispered.
‘For God’s sake, do you really believe that load of old crap? Anyway, him staying there doesn’t make sense – I was fine without a father. Dan’s daughter is almost an adult. I wasn’t even a year old when you left my dad.’
Sara turned away, but Michelle had already seen her tear-brimmed eyes.
‘Does Dan’s relationship with his daughter make you wish your dad had taken better care of you?’
Sara sat up straight, rage flashing from her eyes. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She grabbed her bag and threw Michelle’s nail file into it. ‘You need to get a grip.’
As the door banged shut in Sara’s wake, Michelle felt rung out, helpless and stuck. She flopped back into the sofa, too numb to move, sadness and disappointment from the past and present mingling together into a knotted mess.
‘If you’re not buying another coffee, could you give someone else that seat, please?’ The barista wiped the table with a dirty cloth.
Michelle nodded at the cloth. ‘Isn’t that breaking some Health and Safety regulation?’ She stood up and left without waiting for a reply.
Stepping out onto the street, she coughed as a passing bus puffed out diesel fumes. Mel would have understood about Dan. Why did you have to go and bloody-well die? she asked the heavens. She was met with nothing but a sea of murky, rain-filled clouds. Why did other people her age have their childhood best friends? They probably had loving fathers too. She knew she tended to see her glass as half empty, and she did try to do the half full thing, but sometimes she felt like she didn’t even have a glass.
