Seeing Other People (18 page)

‘No, of course not,’ she replied. ‘I loved being married, I loved our life together it’s just that . . . I don’t know, when you’re that close with another person it’s easy to lose sight of who you are . . . what you want . . . what you need.’

‘Like how?’

‘Like work for instance, it was never my great ambition to be a social work team leader bogged down in paperwork. I wanted to have a career that meant something. We both did. You wanted to be a writer. I wanted . . . well I know at one point I talked about working for Greenpeace but the truth was I didn’t care all that much; I just wanted my career to be special. But then you compromise, don’t you? The book you write doesn’t sell well, or the dream job you wanted doesn’t materialise – and before you know it the job you took to pay your half of the rent has become your career. I think part of me always felt that if I’d been single I wouldn’t have compromised on my career just as you wouldn’t have either. We would have just ploughed on trying to make it work because we’d only have had ourselves to worry about. I don’t think I’m saying anything controversial. I’m just saying that meeting the love of your life when you’re young changes things, doesn’t it? After graduating from university at twenty-one we made decisions that most people wouldn’t have to make until much later in life because we wanted to be together and it felt like the right thing to do.’ The waitress arrived with our coffees, interrupting the flow of conversation. By the time she’d put down the drinks and asked if we wanted anything else I could see from Penny’s face that the moment had passed and that I needed to get to the point of why I’d asked her here.

I picked up a packet of sugar and poured the contents into my cup. I hated sugar in coffee but right now I needed the taste of something sweet in my mouth.

I stirred in the sugar and looked at Penny. ‘I’ve found a place.’

‘Where is it?’

‘Crofton Road.’

‘Near the park?’

‘Just around the corner.’

We sipped our coffees silently. I could tell Penny was thinking the same as me: how would we tell the kids? It was an impossible situation.

‘I was thinking we’d tell them it was just a temporary thing,’ said Penny as though reading my mind. ‘That yes, we are having some problems but that we are trying our best to sort them out. Then we can ask if they have any questions.’

I felt sick. This was really happening. Despite Fiona’s assertions to the contrary this wasn’t a dream, this was my life, and it was disintegrating for real. ‘I can’t imagine telling them, can you? Penny, please, I’m begging you, let’s sort this out between us.’

‘That’s what we’re trying to do isn’t it?’

‘But do we have to tell the kids?’

‘What should we do instead? Carry on deceiving them? Rosie’s not stupid Joe, she knows you’ve been sleeping downstairs.’

‘How do you know?’

‘She asked me why we weren’t putting the burglar alarm on at night any more but she did it in that way where I knew she was asking something more. She’s a bright kid, Joe. Treating her like she’s not does us all a disservice.’

I could barely get the words out. ‘When would we do it?’

‘The sooner the better,’ said Penny. ‘The longer we leave it the worse it’ll be.’

18

As much as I needed to say goodbye to my family, I think Penny did too, and the idea of a reprieve seemed too good to turn down. So for the week that followed both of us put aside our differences and played happy families for all we were worth: the kind that went to Nando’s on a weekday, let their kids stay up late when they had school next day and spent a small fortune on a last-minute two-night break to Center Parcs. Rosie and Jack loved every minute of it and Penny and I would have too if we hadn’t known the truth. But as it was even as we laughed and joked with the kids all I could think was that I was witnessing nothing less than the end of their innocence.

On the following Friday night, just as Penny and I had arranged, I left work early, picked the kids up from school and brought them home to a feast of takeaway pizzas ordered by Penny that we ate huddled together on the sofa in front of the TV. Towards the end of the evening as Jack was requesting just one more episode of
Scooby Doo
I switched off the TV and announced that I had something important to tell them.

‘What is it?’ asked Jack. ‘Are we getting a PlayStation?’

‘No, son,’ I replied. ‘It’s about Mum and me.’

‘What about you?’ asked Rosie.

‘Well, the thing is we’ve been having some problems.’

Rosie’s brow furrowed. ‘What kind of problems?’

‘Grown-up problems,’ I replied.

‘Daddy and I still love each other very much,’ added Penny. ‘And we love you guys more than the world and we’re doing everything we can to make things right. But while we do that Daddy’s going to be living somewhere else.’

Jack looked stricken. ‘But Daddy can’t live on his own. It’s not right.’

Rosie looked me straight in the eye. ‘Are you and Mum getting divorced?’

‘Of course not,’ I said quickly and to my relief Penny backed me up.

‘We just need some time apart, that’s all,’ said Penny. ‘You’ll see Dad all the time. He’ll pick you up some days and cook you tea, it’ll be like he’s still here.’

‘I don’t like it,’ said Jack.

‘I don’t like it either,’ said Rosie.

‘I know my lovelies,’ said Penny her eyes brimming with tears, ‘but right now it’s just the way it’s got to be.’

I moved out the following afternoon while the kids were still at school. Penny had said that I should feel free to take whatever I wanted but when it came to it I didn’t want very much of anything at all. I took my clothes of course; two silver-framed pictures of the kids, some bedding and a couple of box files filled with bank and credit card statements but that was it. Partly I didn’t take any more because I couldn’t fit it into the car but mostly I left stuff behind because I wanted to send a clear message to the kids that this was temporary; one day sooner or later I was coming back.

At Penny’s request I stayed away from the house for a while to give the kids a chance to settle into the new routine; wanting to keep the peace I agreed to make do with daily chats on the phone. Rosie barely said a word during these calls. I’d ask her question after question about her day and got nothing in return other than one-word answers punctuated with long sullen silences but as awful as they were they paled in comparison to the conversations with Jack. Every call was pretty much the same: he’d demand through angry, snotty tears that I should return home immediately and when I told him I couldn’t he’d just sob his heart out. I normally had my first drink of the day after I had spoken to the kids in the evening in the vain hope that the alcohol would make life bearable.

Finally however Penny called to suggest that I should spend some time with the kids so the following evening I left work as early as I could and headed over to the house of the childminder who picked up the kids after school whenever Penny was working.

Jane Cairns was a hippyish but harmless woman who had been childminding on and off for Penny and me ever since Rosie was born. Jane loved the kids like they were her own and even Rosie, who frankly found most interactions with adults something of a chore, would happily chat to her for hours without ever resorting to sarcasm.

‘I can’t begin to tell you how devastated I am for you both,’ said Jane, smothering me in a tight hug. ‘It’s such a terrible thing, the end of a marriage. Penny didn’t go into details, and I don’t really want to know them either, I just wanted to say that if you need a shoulder to cry on, I’m here for you.’

‘Thanks, that’s really kind of you,’ I replied as Jane finally released me from her grip, ‘but would you mind if I went and saw the kids now?’

Rosie and Jack were watching TV in the living room along with two of Jane’s other charges. Like that day in the playground, the moment Jack realised that it was me in the room and not the parent of one of the other kids he leaped to his feet squealing with delight and showering me with kisses.

‘Daddy, Daddy! I’ve missed you so much!’

‘And I’ve missed you too, little man,’ I said, blinking away tears.

I called over to Rosie, who was sitting watching me as if waiting for her turn. Without speaking she came over and hugged me but it wasn’t until she stopped that I realised she was crying.

‘She misses you like I do, Daddy,’ explained Jack. ‘Sometimes she cries in her bedroom when she thinks no one can hear but I do.’

Rosie glared at Jack, and he took a step backwards as though wanting to be sure that he was out of range of her fists. ‘No I don’t!’ she snapped. ‘I don’t cry, you take it back!’

The last thing I needed when I had such little time with them was to have to get tough with them both. ‘He’s not teasing you darling, he’s worried about you. You need to look after each other, OK? These are tough times and we need to stick together.’

At home the children took up residence with me in the kitchen while I prepared tea the ingredients for which Penny had labelled in the fridge. Rosie told me about an argument that she had had with Petra Goodman, a girl in her class who had accused her of saying things about her behind her back; while Jack’s lowlight of the day was having to hold Lettie Harrison’s hand in country dancing. As I tossed chicken and vegetables in the hot spitting oil of the wok I did my best to offer fatherly insight into both predicaments. To Rosie I advised ignoring the girl making the accusations, reasoning that she was probably only making them to get Rosie in trouble; and to Jack I suggested that the best way to deal with his situation was to imagine that he had a robotic hand, because everyone knows that there’s nothing romantic at all about a girl holding a robotic hand. Rosie thought that my advice wouldn’t work because the girl was too annoying; Jack however thought my robot hand idea was the best he’d ever heard.

I turned off the flame under the wok and distributed the steaming hot food between three plates. It was hard not to be thoroughly pleased with myself to be doing something so obviously constructive for my children.

‘Grub’s up!’

Jack ran to the kitchen sink and began washing his hands without being asked.

‘What are we having?’

‘Your favourite.’

Jack’s eye’s widened in delight. ‘Chicken stir-fry? I love chicken stir-fry! You’re the best dad in the world!’

I knew I wasn’t. I was far from it. But even so it was nice to think that Jack, however misguided, actually believed it was true.

The kids had long since gone up to their rooms when I heard Penny come home. Guiltily I switched off the TV and snatched up a magazine from the coffee table as though reading as an activity might make me appear less like I was making myself at home than watching the BBC news channel.

I called out to her and she came into the room. She was wearing her gym kit, and had her hair tied away from her face in a ponytail.

‘How did it go?’

‘Fine. Rosie’s up in her room tackling her homework and Jack’s asleep – that said, he’s been downstairs to see me about half a dozen times in the last half-hour.’

Penny sat down in the chair opposite, her keys still in her hands. ‘Aches, pains, and strange noises in his room?’

‘You’ve guessed it.’

‘He’s been at this for weeks now. He’s going to be so shattered in the morning and on top of that he’s still having trouble settling at school.’

This was news to me. ‘Still?’

‘It’s just the usual,’ replied Penny. ‘Tears in the morning, not wanting to go in . . . according to Miss Brown he seems to be calming down more quickly than last week but it’s still not great.’

Not great. That was the understatement of the century. It killed me to know the separation was hurting Jack so much. I looked over at Penny. ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’

‘What I want?’

I apologised immediately.

‘Look, I didn’t mean it like that . . . obviously I’m the one to blame here but—’

‘You’re absolutely right about that! Do you seriously think any of this is what I wanted? This is all you, Joe, and don’t you ever forget that. It wasn’t me who broke my vows. It wasn’t me who tossed away twenty years without a second thought. It was you, and only you, and don’t you dare forget that.’ Penny stood up. ‘I think you should go.’

‘But I need to talk to you about when I’ll next see the kids.’

‘Then we’ll have to talk tomorrow because do you know what? Now is not a good time.’

I’d lived with Penny long enough to know when she could be talked round and when she couldn’t and this was definitely one of those situations when she wasn’t going to budge an inch. I left the room and grabbed my coat only to look up and see Jack in his Spiderman pyjamas sitting on the stairs.

‘What are you doing, Dad?’

‘It’s time for me to go.’

‘Can I come too? I won’t be any trouble.’

‘I know you won’t son, but you live here with Mum.’

He stuck out his bottom lip, pouting. ‘I don’t want to live here any more. I want to live with you.’