Falling in Love Again (25 page)

34

LIZZIE

Lizzie’s embarrassment over the hospital incident – as if she even
wanted
another boyfriend! – was nothing compared with her grief over Sophie’s refusal to come home. How could her daughter be hard enough to choose another woman over her mother?

‘It’s not like that,’ Dan had insisted over what was becoming a regular coffee after each shoot. They worked well together, she had to admit. She prided herself on being a good journalist and he definitely knew his stuff. When it worked, it was like a dance. And somehow, ever since he’d agreed to be her ‘pretend date’ to make Tom jealous (fat lot of good that had done!), she’d begun to see that he really was quite sweet although obviously not in
that
way.

‘Kids will always love their mums.’ He gave her an odd look. ‘But to be honest, Lizzie, you probably pushed her over the edge.’

Pushed her over the edge?

He was stirring his cappuccino. ‘You’re a bit calmer now but when I first knew you, you were – phew! – all over the place. Yelling at the kids. Always doing stuff while you were talking on that earpiece of yours. Never . . .’

‘So it’s all my fault?’ She glared at him. ‘Is that what you’re saying? I was doing so much that I didn’t have time for Tom, so that’s why he left me? You men are all the same. That’s what he said.’ Her eyes smarted with tears again. ‘It’s not fair. I was expected to go to uni. Expected to get a good job. Expected to be a good wife. And a good mum. But no one said it would be so difficult . . .’

‘Hey there.’ Dan’s hand was surprisingly warm. ‘That’s not what I said. To be honest, I think your husband is a prick for doing what he did. I’m talking about your daughter. Kids are selfish. My sister’s always saying so. But you’ve got to remember who’s the adult here. Kids don’t like to see their parents going to pieces. They want them to be adults. And if you want your daughter back, you’ve got to show her that home has changed now. That it’s OK to come back to.’

Maybe, said the small voice inside her, he had a point.

Sophie was due to come to tea tonight so she could collect some more clothes and work for school. (How weird was that? Her own daughter coming back just to get her stuff?) Well, she’d do what Dan said. Make it nice and calm for her. And maybe pump her for some information about Tom and Sharon at the same time.

The Slut was getting enormous now, although Lizzie still couldn’t bring herself to believe it was Tom’s baby. Everyone said Sharon slept around! Well, maybe not everyone but one or two women at the school gates had conceded that she seemed the type.

As for Mum and Dad? Frankly, she couldn’t even think about them right now.

She and Dan had ended early today so she could pick up Sophie from school, along with Jack, who was on an ‘incest day’ as he called it. Mum had been looking after Jack so she’d had to go there first and shit, sorry, sugar, there was nothing in the fridge for supper.

‘Hi,’ said a woman, pulling up in a black Mini convertible.

All she needed now was the Bitch in Boden, although this time she was wearing sparkly silver jeans and pink trainers plus an enormous yellow and green bag, none of which Lizzie had spotted in the last catalogue. (Possibly because she hadn’t had time to read it.)

The woman seemed to be frantically searching for something in her handbag.

‘Shit. The little bugger’s crapped again. You haven’t got any kitchen roll on you, by any chance? Great! Thanks.’

The organised Bitch in Boden was losing it? Then there was no help for any of them.

‘Sorry – do I know you?’ The woman was looking at her now as thought she hadn’t just said ‘Hi’ or borrowed used kitchen roll off her.

Lizzie nodded. ‘Your son Harry came to tea last year and he had nits and I didn’t have any food to give them.’ She glanced at the bag. ‘You’d just got your shitzoo – I mean shiatsu – and the kids said you carried it round in your bag.’

A wide smile broke out on the other woman’s face. ‘Yes I do! I remember thinking ‘Thank God there’s someone else with a life that’s as mad as mine’.’

‘You did?’

‘Absolutely.’ She stopped smiling. ‘And by the way, I haven’t got a dog in my bag before you call the RSPCA. Never have done. It’s one of those pretend dogs with plastic poo from Japan that I’m meant to be looking after for one of the children. Not mine. It’s a bit of a long story. Meant to teach them responsibility. Hah! What a joke. They couldn’t even spell the word let alone do it.’ Her eyebrows suddenly shot up. ‘Hang on. Aren’t you the woman whose marriage has broken up thanks to Sharon The Slut?’

She loved this woman! She really did!

‘You call her that too?’

‘Doesn’t everyone? Did you know those boobs are fake? They’re plastic chicken breasts. I know! I saw her adjust them in the car the other day when she didn’t think anyone was looking.’

‘Listen!’ Lizzie almost grabbed her by the arm. ‘I need to prove that the baby she’s having isn’t my husband’s.’

There was a hissing in of breath. ‘Tricky. How are you going to do that?’

‘I don’t know.’ The B in B (although it didn’t seem right to call her that now) looked as though she was trying to find something again in her cerebral region. ‘Pity you’ve missed the PTA meeting. There isn’t another for six months now and we could have asked around.’

The PTA?

‘Piss-up and Talk About everyone club, otherwise known as the Parents Teachers Association.’ She smiled warmly at Lizzie. ‘I’ll put you up if you like. It’s a great way to meet people. Listen – about Sharon. I’ll keep my ear to the ground and let you know. OK?’ She jerked her head towards some spotty adolescent who was approaching them. ‘Looks like someone wants to see you. Probably a new teacher from the look of her.’ She snorted. ‘See you!’

Lizzie stared in disbelief at the figure approaching with a pink haversack slung casually over one arm, bulging with exercise books.

‘Mum!’

Sophie? Her daughter! Her daughter whom she hadn’t seen for three days and five hours with her hair in . . . Where was her hair?

‘I had it cut!’

Sophie swung her head to one side and back as though to show there was nothing to swing any more. ‘Do you like it?’

But she hadn’t given her permission! Sharon had no right! Nor had Tom.

‘It looks very nice,’ she heard herself say. ‘It suits you.’

Sophie looked surprised. ‘Really? Sharon said you’d go nuts.’

Another deep breath. ‘And what did Daddy say?’

Sophie looked away. ‘He wasn’t very pleased, actually. Said she should have asked him or you first.’

YES, YES, YES!

‘Shall we go now?’ Lizzie resisted the temptation to hug her daughter right there in the playground. Sophie might not like that and then all her hard work about not going nuts about her hair would have been worthless. Her teeth were killing her from the gritting. ‘I thought we might have takeaway fish and chips as a treat.’

‘Really?’ Sophie was walking alongside her to the car. ‘Where’s Jack? I’ve missed him.’

Where
was
Jack?

There was a tap on her shoulder. The B in B again. Where had she sprung up from? ‘Over there. Look.’

How had he crossed the road like that?

‘It’s all right, Mum.’ Sophie was holding her hand as though she was the child.  ‘I’ll get him. You turn the car around. Looks like you’ve blocked someone in.’ She grinned at her. ‘Your driving hasn’t got any better, has it?’

They had a nice evening. Really nice. Instead of  trying to commit mutual manslaughter, the kids actually sat up at the kitchen table with her, eating their fish and chips out of the greasy bags because, as Sophie said, they tasted nicer that way.

‘We used to have this as a treat when I was a child and we went on holiday,’ said Lizzie dreamily over her double portion.

Funny, she hadn’t thought of that for years.

‘Tell us about it again,’ urged Sophie.

Of course, she’d told them loads of stories about the island as they were growing up. But, unlike now, they hadn’t seemed that interested. It was just one of Mum’s memories. But now, both of them were sitting up, their eyes expectantly waiting. ‘We used to go to the Isle of Wight, every year.’

Jack’s head nodded. ‘You took us once.’

Sophie cut in. ‘You don’t remember but I do. Don’t I, Mum?’

Lizzie nodded. She and Tom had taken them when they were younger, back to Shanklin where she and her parents had stayed. It had been glorious weather but Tom had been distracted. Always going off to make phone calls. Snappy too. Alison had been right when she’d said at the group the other month that it was so easy to remember the good bits and not the bad.

How long ago had that island holiday been? At least five years. Could he – oh God – have been having an affair then with Sharon? Or someone else?

‘I wish Dad was having fish and chips with us,’ said Jack suddenly.

‘Me too.’

Lizzie reached out and squeezed her daughter’s hand. ‘He’ll be here soon. He’s going to collect you.’

Sophie nodded and looked as though she was going to say something.

‘Do he and Sharon . . . do they argue? You know. Just a bit. About . . . television and that sort of thing?’

Sophie bit her lip. ‘Sometimes. Sharon says I should only have half an hour a day on my laptop like Ellie even though she’s younger than me.’

‘He’s here!’

Jack leaped up excitedly. ‘Dad’s here! Look, we’ve got you fish and chips! I’ve saved you some of mine.’

She hadn’t changed the locks when he’d moved out. Kept them the same so he could come back if he wanted.

‘Hi.’ Tom nodded awkwardly at her and a weird feeling hit her stomach. He was wearing a shirt she’d never seen before (had Sharon The Slut chosen it?). And he seemed thinner. It suited him. Was it possible that this was the man she had virtually grown up with as an adult? The man she’d bought her first house with? The man who was the father of her children. The man who . . .

‘I don’t want to go.’

Sophie was standing up, her lip trembling. ‘I don’t want to leave Mum.’

Tom shot her a look that said,
‘What have you said to her?’

‘Nothing,’ she wanted to yell. ‘I could have poisoned her against you but I haven’t. Honestly.’

Instead, she put her arm round her daughter. ‘But darling, you’ve got all your things at Sharon’s. Your teddy and . . .’

‘Dad can go and get my teddy.’

She knew that would work! Sophie might be twelve but she still couldn’t sleep without Bruno the bear.

‘And what about your school things for the next day?’

‘Dad can get those too.’

She shrugged at Tom. ‘What do you think? I don’t want to upset Sharon.’

Whoops. Too much there.

‘We must do what is best for the children.’ He spoke stiffly. ‘That’s what we’ve always said.’

Yeah right. And leaving them was the best thing, was it? No. She could almost hear Dan’s voice in her head. Don’t say that stuff, Lizzie. Keep calm.

‘Well why don’t you stay and finish your fish and chips?’ She already had the kettle on. ‘Jack needs to see you for a bit.’

Tom looked in the direction of the sitting room where Jack had disappeared. ‘Does he? He doesn’t seem that bothered now.’

She cut him a large slice of apple pie which had always been his favourite. ‘You know what kids are like. Sky’s the limit!’

He smiled and began to tuck into the pie. His favourite. Thank God for the freezer section. She only hoped she hadn’t injected too much rum although maybe, with hindsight, she should have cleaned out the syringe which had last been used to get antibiotics down the hamster’s throat (now deceased).

‘So!’ She forced herself to speak brightly. ‘Are you excited?’

‘Excited?’

‘About your new baby? The new family you’re going to have soon.’

Whoops. A bit of bitterness had definitely crept in there.

‘Lizzie, it’s not the same.’

Her heart leaped. ‘What do you mean?’

Slowly, he put down his spoon. ‘It’s not the same without you. I miss you all. I didn’t mean Sharon to get pregnant. It was only the once, you know. And it was her that kissed me first. And . . .’

‘Daddy!’ Jack was running in and jumping on Tom’s knee.

Lizzie sat there, unable to speak, her head reeling. Didn’t mean to get her pregnant? Just the once? She kissed HIM first? So it hadn’t been two months?

Did that mean . . ?

Tom was getting up. ‘I’d better be going now, especially if I’m coming back with Sophie’s stuff. I won’t be long.’

He threw her a glance as he left. A glance which if she knew him (and she’d always thought she had), meant, ‘I miss you.’

Quickly, she flew upstairs, changed and re-did her make up. Sharon only lived a few minutes away. She didn’t have long before he got back.