Life as I Know It (31 page)

“Jessica?”

I looked expectantly at him. “Yes?”

He seemed suddenly tongue-tied, but then he smiled and held out his hand. “Come along then; we’d better get going before the pub stops serving.”

That afternoon we went back to Dan’s place for a late Sunday roast. It turned out that Dan had prepared everything before he’d left that morning, and Pat had put the oven on at the appointed hour so that by the time we walked through the door we were greeted by the tantalizing smell of roasting meat. Fortunately we’d only had a bowl of soup in the pub, so after putting some vegetables on to steam we sat down to a hearty meal with the old man.

“I couldn’t leave him alone for the whole day,” Dan whispered to me when we stood washing up in the kitchen after the meal. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” I assured him, thinking that it wasn’t that far removed from having children after all. “It was quite the right thing to do.”

Later, he drove me home and we kissed again. I closed my eyes and wished I could kiss him all night and all day without stopping, but the evening was wearing on and I knew I had to leave him.

“I’ll call you tomorrow evening,” Dan said as I climbed out of his car in the space outside my flat.

“Okay,” I replied, calling Frankie back from where she’d raced off into the darkness as soon as I’d opened the car door. “Thanks for a wonderful day.”

As soon as he had gone, I fumbled the key into my front-door lock and raced through the dark sitting room to the kitchen, where I shook dog biscuits into Frankie’s bowl. While she was eating I checked the time, gasped, then hurried into the bedroom, where I threw myself still fully clothed onto the bed. Closing my eyes, I willed myself to sleep, and almost immediately I was gone.

I awoke to find that Karen had roused the children, gotten them dressed, and given them breakfast. Glancing at the kitchen clock as I hurried into the kitchen, I found it was after half past eight.

“I’m glad you’re up,” Karen said. “I thought I was going to have to take them to school and nursery myself.”

“You’ve been wonderful,” I said, giving her a kiss on her rounded cheek. “Has Grant left for work?”

“An hour ago. He said he’d be home for dinner at six o’clock.”

The girls, looking sweet in their green and red uniforms, were packing their school bags with cartons of apple juice and potato chips for break time, and I did the same for the boys, then hurried them all toward the garage.

“Who do I drop off first?”

“The girls. They have to be there in the next ten minutes. Registration is at ten to nine. Do you remember where to go?”

“Yes, Grant showed me.”

“See you later.”

“I’m going to be late back,” I called out of the car window as I drove out of the garage. “I checked the diary and I’m having the meeting with the boys’ headmistress this morning.”

“Good luck!”

Once at the girls’ school, Sophie and Nicole seemed to find it quite amusing that I didn’t know where I normally dropped them off.

“You go into the playground and park over there, then you walk us to the door,” Sophie explained. “And you come here again to collect us at four o’clock.”

I hooked their bags over their shoulders, kissed them both good-bye at the door, and watched as they mingled with the other green-and-red-clad girls, before returning to the car to find Toby and Teddy fighting over a picture book that Lauren kept in the car for them.

“I’ve got to learn my letters,” Toby was saying importantly to his brother. “Mummy said I should know my alphabet.”

“I want look at pictures!” Teddy was yelling.

They were pulling at the book so hard I could see it ripping down the binding.

“Boys!” I admonished, taking the book from both of them. “You’ll break it and then neither of you will be able to have it.”

I started the car and nosed it out of the school driveway into the winding road, checking my rearview mirror as I joined the main flow of traffic. A couple of cars behind me I could see a motorbike, and I felt my heart miss a beat. My eyes flicked up to the mirror again. It was the same bike that had been parked outside the Richardsons’ house last night, I was sure of it.

When I came to the boys’ nursery school I parked along the roadside and opened the curb-side doors to let the boys climb out. The motorbike had passed as I’d parked, but I saw it draw up
to the side of the road a little way ahead. The helmeted head swiveled in my direction and I forced myself to look pointedly away as I shepherded the twins into school.

Once inside the old school building my attention was taken by the pressing needs of the moment: where to hang the boys’ coats, which classroom to take them into, and where to put their break-time drinks. Everything was painted in bold colors: There were alphabet friezes running around the walls, gaily colored stacks of toy bins, bright rugs on the cracked linoleum flooring, and rows and rows of pegs, each with an identifying picture beside it.

“Good morning, Mrs. Richardson,” said a smiling teacher, taking Toby’s hand and guiding him toward a door on the right of the main room. “Toby, you are in here with Mrs. Wells, as usual.”

I felt Teddy’s grip tighten on my hand and I looked down to find him staring with open hostility at the teacher, who had now turned her attention to him.

“And you will be in with Miss Stevens today, Edward. Come along.”

“No!” Teddy said, taking a step behind me. “Don’t like that.”

“Come on, Teddy,” I cajoled. “You like it at nursery school, don’t you? I’m sure there will be lots of coloring and drawing to do.”

“Want go with Toby.”

“You can’t go with your brother, Edward,” the teacher said sternly. “You have to work with Miss Stevens until you have learned to sit quietly and form your letters.”

Teddy began to cry, and I crouched down beside him, still holding his hand.

“What’s the matter?” I asked gently. “You were happy here before the vacation started, weren’t you?”

He shook his head, his face crumpled with the effort of trying to stop himself crying. He still had his ball clutched in his free hand and he let go of my hand to cuddle it to his chest.

“Want go with Toby.”

“It’s best if you leave, Mrs. Richardson,” the teacher said. “He’ll calm down as soon as you’ve gone.”

I straightened up, not happy about leaving Teddy like this, but not sure if I was making matters worse by lingering. I wondered if he was feeling insecure because he wanted his real mother to bring him to school. Perhaps if I went, I reasoned, as I walked to the door, he would forget about me and settle down.

But Teddy had other ideas about me leaving him, and I’d barely reached the outside door when he came flying after me, screaming at me not to go. My instinct was to go back to him, but the teacher caught him and held him as he thrashed and cried.

“Please leave, Mrs. Richardson,” she said through gritted teeth. “I promise you he will be all right.”

I left as quickly as I could, the sounds of Teddy’s screams still ringing in my ears.

I made my way to a second door marked “School Office” at the side of the building, knocked and went in. A bespectacled secretary was sitting at a desk sorting through a pile of envelopes. She looked up when I entered and smiled thinly with brightly lipsticked lips.

“Ah, Mrs. Richardson, Miss Webb is expecting you. Please go through to her office.”

I glanced around and saw a second door marked “Headmistress,” knocked and went in.

The woman with steel-gray hair sitting behind the enormous desk glanced up and gave me an even thinner smile than her
secretary had managed. I thought it looked more like a grimace than a greeting, and immediately I felt on my guard.

“Sit down, please, Mrs. Richardson.”

It was definitely an order rather than an invitation, and I obeyed reluctantly. The visitor’s chair was slightly lower than Miss Webb’s, instantly putting me at a disadvantage. I stared at the whitewashed brick of the walls, where several charts and timetables hung in an immaculately straight line. The office was a severe workplace, reflecting, I suspected, the head’s own character, with none of the cheerful color of the nursery itself.

Miss Webb leaned toward me, her elbows resting on the desk, her fingertips pressed together disapprovingly.

“Have you given careful consideration to the matter we discussed before half-term, Mrs. Richardson?”

“And what was that?” I hedged.

“Oh, come now,” Miss Webb said condescendingly. “Let’s not play games.”

I felt my hackles rise at the tone of her voice and struggled to keep my voice level.

“I don’t play games, Miss Webb, not where my children’s welfare is concerned. I thought this meeting was to discuss whether the boys were to remain in this school?”

She stared at me, her jaw working above the velvet collar of her jacket.

“As we have already discussed, there are no issues with Toby. He seems a bright boy and I’m sure there will be no problem with him continuing into the lower prep class next September. Edward is the concern. He is, in my opinion, in need of specialist care. As I said before, I do not feel we have the facilities to help him. Have you found anywhere for him to go after Christmas?”

“After Christmas? Can’t you keep him here until the end of the school year?”

Miss Webb sighed rather rudely, and I resisted the temptation to reach across the pretentious acre of leather-topped desk and grab her by her scrawny throat.

“Humor me, Miss Webb. Did you suggest to me that Teddy would be better off in residential care?”

“That is what we discussed at the beginning of last term. And I have also pointed out that we do not allow the use of a child’s nickname in school.”

I stood up, straightening my jacket. “I will of course have to discuss this with my husband. If he agrees with me, you will have half a term’s notice for both boys in writing by the end of the week, Miss Webb.”

She stood up, too, on the far side of her desk. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mrs. Richardson. Toby has been doing well with us.”

“It could just as easily have been Toby who was having problems if he had been born second. It’s not the child you care about, Miss Webb, but your school’s reputation. Toby will probably do well anywhere, and I don’t believe this school has the right ethos for either of our boys. Good day to you.”

I was so angry as I walked out of the school office that I forgot to check to see if the motorbike was still lurking. Unlocking the car door, I climbed in and started the engine, thinking of all the things I should have said to the stuck-up, self-opinionated Miss Webb.

It wasn’t until the bike passed me a few moments later, then cruised in front of me as I drove toward home, that I remembered Lauren’s other pressing problem. The motorcyclist was jabbing
his gloved hand to the left and looking ahead, and I saw a turning a little farther on. Sighing, I indicated left and eased the Galaxy into the small dirt lot, pulling in next to a vehicle where a dog walker was attaching a leash to the collar of a chocolate Labrador, which was standing in an open hatchback. I thought of Bessie, then Frankie, and wished she were here with me now. She would have been a comfort to me and perhaps a deterrent to this complete stranger who probably thought he was going to be able to persuade me that I loved him.

Turning off the engine, I waited for the motorcyclist to park his bike and walk across to me. The dog walker locked her car and disappeared down a tree-lined track. I lowered the window as the man drew level with the car and watched as he pulled off his helmet. As I had guessed, it was the young man from the restaurant. He ran a hand through his blond hair and gazed beseechingly at me with his blue eyes.

“Lauren, please give me a few minutes. I need to talk to you.”

“I’m sorry. I explained the other night that I don’t remember you. There’s no point in talking if you mean nothing to me.”

“You loved me once, Lauren… enough to promise to leave your family for me. Don’t you think you owe me a few minutes of your time?”

I hesitated, and he picked up on it immediately. “Only five minutes,” he begged. “I promise I’ll leave you alone afterward.”

“Okay. Get in. But don’t try anything. You’ve got five minutes.”

As soon as he was in the car he tried to take my hand, but I pulled it away and turned sideways to face him.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Jason.”

“Look, Jason. Whatever went on with us before is over. I’m not the same person I was before the lightning strike. I can understand that you miss what we had, but the Lauren you knew is gone for good.”

Before I could say any more, he leaned over, took my face between his hands, and kissed me full on the lips. I was so surprised that for a moment I stayed there, held captive by his kiss. His lips were soft and moist and he smelled of an aftershave I couldn’t identify. Even his chin, rubbing against mine, was smooth, almost as if he had no need to shave. He reminded me of a boy I had once kissed in junior school.

Turning away so that he was obliged to pull back, I shook my head.

“It’s no good, Jason. You can’t rekindle a love that I don’t recall ever existed. I don’t know you. I don’t love you.”

He gazed wildly at me as if such a thing were beyond his comprehension. “I don’t believe you. You don’t love your husband, I know you don’t.”

I lowered my eyes and he seized on the silent admission as if it were a lifeline. He grabbed me by the tops of my arms and shook me, just as Grant had done.

“Look at me and tell me you’re in love with someone else, Lauren. Tell me that and I’ll believe you.”

I thought of Dan and a shiver ran through me. I loved Dan more than anyone in the world, and I hugged this realization to me, unaware of the dreamy look that crossed my features.

“I am in love with someone else, Jason,” I said gently. “And I’m staying with Grant and the family. I’m sorry that you are hurting, but there’s nothing I can do about my feelings. Think of the Lauren you knew as dead. I’m sure that if she was planning to leave the children for you, she must have loved you very much,
but that isn’t me. Grieve for her, Jason, because that Lauren no longer exists.”