Over You Read online

  Sam looked at her, his face tilted to one side. ‘Doesn’t he love you any more then, Mum?’

  God! Out of the mouths of babes and all that. She took a deep breath. ‘Me and Dad will always love you two,’ she said. ‘Always. But now he …’ This was so difficult. They never taught you this bit at childbirth classes. ‘Now he wants to live with somebody else.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back. ‘For a while,’ she added in the hope of softening the truth.

  ‘Bean?’ Toby asked. He was swishing his arms through the bubbles with a fierce kind of concentration. ‘Oh yeah, Dad told us all about Bean.’

  Did he now?

  ‘Her name’s Sabine,’ Josie said, through gritted teeth.

  ‘I don’t like that name,’ Sam said, loyal to the end. He was looking at her carefully, as if desperate to say the right thing and please her.

  ‘I don’t either,’ Toby said. ‘It’s stupid.’ He did a karate chop into the water, and Josie dodged away as it sprayed everywhere. ‘Meany beany Sabin-ee!’

  ‘Toby, don’t call her names,’ Josie said, tempting though it was to join in. ‘She might be very nice.’

  ‘I won’t like her,’ Toby said confidently.

  Sam was reaching for her, his fingers wet and bubbly on her arm. ‘Don’t worry, Mum,’ he said. ‘We still love you best.’

  Josie put her arms around him, and his little damp hand crept around her back. ‘Thanks, sweetheart,’ she said, trying not to choke on the words. How did children manage to do that anyway? Wrench at your heart just with a simple pronouncement? ‘Thanks, pumpkin. I love you two best, as well.’

  The next day was Sunday, and there was actually something on the calendar that they could do, even if it was only lunch at her mum’s. It was the first time Josie could remember for months where she was actually pleased at the prospect, rather than it seeming like a chore, dragging the kids out to Guildford. She’d managed two mother–daughter phone calls during the week without telling her mum anything of what had been happening. Why put her through it? She’d tell her when she had to, and not before.

  Never had the sight of her mum’s lace curtains twitching as she pulled into the drive brought such relief to Josie. Even better, Stu, her younger brother, was due to be there with his new girlfriend too, so the focus would be temporarily off her own life. There was no way Josie’s mum would pass on the chance for fully grilling any prospective daughter-in-law.

  It was a close, sultry day, and the air inside the house seemed to be boiling with the heat of the oven and the stifling smell of roast chicken. No matter that it was almost June, Mrs Bell prided herself on serving up a full roast week in, week out.

  ‘Can I help, Mum?’ Josie asked as the boys charged straight out into the garden where their grandad had set up the sprinkler.

  Mrs Bell fanned her flushed cheeks. She was standing in front of the cooker, lifting saucepan lids and releasing great jets of steam as she assessed the progress of each item. ‘Almost done,’ she said. ‘You could lay the table for me, love.’

  The doorbell rang and Mrs Bell replaced the final lid and smoothed down her apron. ‘That’ll be Stuart and Melanie,’ she said, patting her iron-grey curls into place. ‘Coming!’ she carolled as she bustled out to the door.

  Melanie was petite and slender with smoky grey eyes and olive skin. Her long dark hair was bundled back into a ponytail, with a couple of daisy hairclips wrestled into it for good measure. She had on a white crop top that showed a flat, tanned belly, and a pale floaty skirt. ‘Hi Josie, I’m Melanie,’ she said, walking into the dining room where Josie was laying out the knives and forks.

  Stu came in and kissed Josie on the cheek. He looked like the cat who got the cream, Josie thought to herself in amusement. And he smelled different, too – had the aftershave been a present from Melanie? she wondered. Oh, to be back in those heady days of new love, she thought with a pang. Love tokens and presents and edging into one another’s lives, all shiny and new and sexy …

  She took a deep breath. ‘Hi, Stu. Nice to meet you, Melanie. Pete’s playing golf today, some business thing.’

  She’d given her mum the same line. There was no way she was going to talk about what had really happened over roast sodding chicken.

  Mrs Bell arrived in the room then with a steaming dish of vegetables. ‘Go and wash your hands, you three,’ she ordered, as if they were children again. ‘Almost on the table.’

  Melanie pressed her lips together as if she wanted to giggle but obediently went to the kitchen with Stu to scrub up at the sink. ‘Boys!’ Josie called into the garden. ‘Lunch!’

  The roast chicken was succulent and tender, the roast potatoes just the right side of crunchy, the broccoli, carrots and peas all steamed to perfection. They had gravy in a gravy boat, plates on place mats, matching cutlery and a full set of wine glasses. If it wasn’t for the boys kicking each other under the table and flicking their peas at one another, Josie could almost have believed she was seventeen again, and living at home.

  Josie ate and ate. She could see her mum raising her eyebrows as Josie piled on the chicken and gravy, helped herself to another slithering white dollop of bread sauce, another spoonful of potatoes. She could almost read her mum’s mind: Eating for two, hmmm? Something to tell us, hmmm?

  Hardly. Eating for a broken heart, more like. Eating for comfort, eating to carb out the permanent hangover she seemed to have had since Pete had broken the news to her. So much for heartbreak making you thin. At this rate, Josie was going to be busting out of everything in her wardrobe before the day was up.

  ‘So, Melanie,’ Josie’s dad said genially, pouring himself another glass of red wine, ‘what does your father do?’

  ‘He’s dead,’ Melanie replied, lifting a forkful of broccoli to her mouth.

  ‘Ahh,’ said Josie’s dad, clearing his throat uncomfortably. ‘Right. Well, I’m very sorry to …’

  ‘What was it?’ Mrs Bell wanted to know. ‘Heart trouble? Cancer?’

  ‘Mum!’ Josie hissed.

  ‘Mel’s mum, however, is a professor of genetics in Cambridge,’ Stu put in quickly.

  ‘A working mother, eh?’ Mrs Bell said, nodding as if she vaguely remembered once reading about such a phenomenon.

  ‘Interesting,’ Mr Bell said sagely. His knife clicked against a chicken bone as he attempted to lever a last shred of flesh away from it.

  Silence fell. ‘More potatoes?’ Mrs Bell beamed around the table. ‘Anyone?’

  ‘My dad’s not living with us now,’ Toby announced, as if he’d only just remembered.

  ‘He doesn’t love Mum any more,’ Sam chimed in. ‘But we do. And we’ve decided that we won’t like old Meany Beanie, and—’

  ‘All right, love,’ Josie said, putting a calming hand on his arm. There was a sharp intake of breath from her parents’ end of the table, and now she could feel every pair of eyes burning into her. All except her boys’ eyes, of course – they’d gone back to flicking peas. Announcement over, job done. She took a deep breath and looked up at her mum. ‘It’s true,’ she said quietly. ‘But perhaps this isn’t the time to tell you about it.’

  ‘Well, what’s happened?’ her mum burst out, her eyes as round as marbles. Any second now they were going to drop out of her head, pop, pop and splash into the gravy. ‘So he’s not at golf, then?’

  ‘No,’ Josie said, through gritted teeth. ‘He’s not at golf. That was just … I wanted to pick the right time to tell you, that’s all.’

  Her mum was still staring. ‘Well, where has he gone? Has he really left you, for good?’

  ‘Mu-um!’ Josie said, trying to rein her in. She cast a meaningful glance at her sons’ heads, but her mother was unstoppable, bristling with questions.

  ‘I mean, is he coming back? Is it like a trial separation? Or is it going to end in divorce?’ One liver-spotted hand flew up to her throat. ‘My daughter, a divorcee! Oh, I never thought this day would come!’

  ‘Mum, for heaven’s sak
e!’ Stu put in sharply.

  Melanie, Josie noticed, was looking down at her plate as if she were casting a teleport spell and wishing herself at a different, saner dinner table. Me and you both, love, Josie thought fervently.

  ‘Always thought there was something shifty about him,’ her dad put in, his eyes dark. ‘Should have known we couldn’t trust him!’

  ‘Dad!’ Josie exploded. ‘Not in front of the boys!’

  ‘Shifty, shifty, very very wifty,’ Toby sang tunelessly, and the room seemed to freeze in silence.

  ‘The little boys!’ Josie’s mum said in an anguished sob. ‘The little lads!’

  ‘Mel’s been working on a research project lately,’ Stu said, with a concerned glance at Josie. He took Melanie’s hand, and she looked warily around the table. ‘Haven’t you, Mel? Egyptology. It’s for the British Museum, you know.’

  ‘Lovely,’ said Mrs Bell absent-mindedly, but she was still staring at Josie, with a look of great sadness in her eyes. ‘And I was so hoping for another grandchild!’ she cried.

  Chapter Nine

  Loaded up with newly knitted jumpers for the boys, some teeny new potatoes from Mr Bell’s garden, cold chicken and a recipe for lemon cheesecake that she’d no doubt never get round to making, Josie pulled away from her parents’ driveway in an almost crippling wash of exhaustion. Well, that had gone about as catastrophically wrong as it possibly could have done, she thought grimly.

  Her mum had embraced her with tears in her eyes, offering to come and stay so that she could help out.

  ‘Thanks,’ Josie had said quickly, ‘but no thanks.’ She’d have to be desperate before she’d agree to that. Or completely la-la.

  Her dad had folded her into his arms. ‘The man’s an idiot,’ he’d announced gruffly, patting Josie’s back. ‘You wait, he’ll come crawling back, tail between his legs.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Josie had sighed in return. ‘That’s what I’m hoping, Dad.’

  Stu had hugged her too. He was younger than her by a mere eighteen months and they’d been close as children, but these days they had little in common. He was still heavily into the club scene and had a shit-hot career, complete with minimalist bachelor crash-pad in the City. ‘Take care,’ he said into her ear. ‘Want me to beat him up for you?’

  He was joking, she knew, but Josie appreciated the sentiment. ‘Thanks, Stu, but I’d better pass on that one,’ she said, trying to smile.

  ‘Sorry, Melanie,’ she’d added, on her way out. ‘You must think this family is a bunch of nutters.’

  ‘No, honestly,’ Melanie protested. She smiled at Josie, and put a hand on her arm. ‘Take care of yourself. Sorry to hear you’re having a rough time,’ she said. ‘Your boys are lovely, by the way.’

  ‘Don’t start getting ideas, Melanie,’ Stu said warningly.

  Josie had driven away feeling as if she was escaping from a bad dream. She wondered how long it would take her mum to get on the phone to her cronies. You’ll never guess what. I can’t believe it! My little girl, a divorcee! A single mum! You could have knocked me down with a feather …

  Christ. Her mum would milk it until it was dry. It would be poor-me the whole way, forget how Josie was feeling.

  Josie sighed. And now she was back home again, and it was all the same. That was the problem. It just went on being the same. Why wasn’t she feeling any better? Why did she still feel so utterly crap?

  ‘Help me,’ she muttered to her bedroom ceiling. She was lying flat on her back, feeling as if all her spirit and energy had drained away. She was too tired to go and investigate what the boys were up to, even though they were being suspiciously quiet. She couldn’t even think what she was going to make for their tea. How was she ever going to fight for her relationship when she felt so weak and punched-out?

  ‘Somebody help me,’ she said, pulling a pillow over her head. ‘I can’t do this any more. I just can’t.’

  Then the doorbell rang.

  Josie sat up. Even that was an effort. Jehovah’s Witnesses, probably. Nobody popped round on a Sunday, did they? Unless it was …

  ‘Mum!’ the boys shouted. ‘Door!’

  Josie’s heart pounded as she got to her feet and headed for the stairs. Unless it was Pete. Could it be Pete?

  He’d changed his mind. Seeing the boys had made him realize how much he missed them. And her …

  Her throat was tight as she ran to the door. She fumbled with the latch and pulled it open. And stared.

  ‘Josie – I hope you don’t mind me turning up like this, but—’

  ‘Nell!’ It was like a mirage, seeing her there on the doorstep.

  ‘I tried ringing earlier but it was engaged, so …’ Nell broke off, leaning forwards to stare at Josie. ‘Are you all right? You look really pale.’

  Was she all right? Oh God. Why did Nell have to ask that?

  Josie’s shoulders slumped with the weight of the question. That bloody awful question! She shook her head silently and stepped back so that Nell could come in. Was she all right? No, she wasn’t. She was a million miles from all right.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Nell asked, dropping her bags and stepping swiftly over to hug her. ‘Babe – what is it?’

  ‘He’s …’ The words stuck in Josie’s throat. It had been a whole week now and it was still so hard to say it each time. She leaned her head on Nell’s shoulder. ‘He’s gone. Pete. He’s left me.’

  Nell stiffened in shock. ‘What?’

  Josie sighed. ‘Don’t make me say it again,’ she begged. ‘He—’

  ‘Mum, who was at the door? Who’s that?’

  Sam had come into the hall with a fireman’s helmet and light-sabre, and was staring unblinkingly at Nell, resplendent in her scarlet mini-dress and wedge-heeled sandals, as if she was an exotic bird that had just flown in from the rainforest.

  ‘It’s me, Nell, your mum’s friend,’ Nell said with a wide smile. ‘Remember? Last time I came here we made a camp outside in the garden. No?’ She shrugged. ‘I suppose it was a year ago. Are you Sam or Toby, by the way? Let me guess … Toby!’

  Sam shook his head, then disappeared again.

  Nell took Josie’s hand. ‘I’ve turned up at completely the wrong time, haven’t I?’ she said apologetically. ‘Sorry. Do you want me to go, and leave you in peace?’

  Josie shook her head. ‘No, I’m glad you’re here,’ she said. ‘Stay, I don’t want peace.’ She swallowed. ‘I want company. I feel like I’m sleepwalking, like this is not really happening. I was just saying before you got here, “Help me, somebody help me.”’ A tear slid down her face, then another. ‘I don’t know what to do. I feel like I can’t keep going any longer. I still can’t take it in, I …’ She forced a feeble smile on to her face, even if it was the merest shadow of a smile. ‘And I really don’t want to do Ten Reasons Why He Was a Wanker Anyway either.’

  ‘No,’ Nell said. ‘Course you don’t. Oh God. I can’t believe it, Jose. What happened? Why did he go?’

  Josie cast a furtive look towards the living room. The boys seemed to be playing Star Wars, which usually kept them engrossed for ages. ‘Come in the kitchen,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell you all about it.’

  Once in the kitchen, Nell steered Josie to the table and made her sit down while she filled the kettle. ‘I’m not ill,’ Josie protested. ‘I can make you a—’

  ‘No, you can’t,’ Nell said. ‘Least I can do, barging in on you like this. So what’s happened with Pete? Do the boys know?’

  ‘A bit,’ Josie replied. ‘Pete took them out yesterday and told them he wasn’t going to live with us any more. That he was in love with someone else.’

  ‘Jesus Ker-rist,’ Nell said, looking appalled. ‘Fucking Nora. Sorry. I mean – how are they handling it? Did they freak out?’

  Josie shook her head. ‘Not really. They did ask me if Pete didn’t love them any more.’ A pang of guilt hit her at the thought of Sam’s anxious face turning to her in the bath. ‘It was awful. But … I don’t kn
ow. It’s hard to gauge. I guess it’s going to take a while to sink in.’

  ‘Here you are,’ Nell said, stirring milk into Josie’s coffee and plonking it down in front of her. ‘Biscuits? Toast? Anything else I can get for you?’

  ‘No,’ Josie replied. She was still full of roast chicken. She sipped her coffee and took a deep breath. ‘Guess what else?’ she said. ‘It gets worse. Pete told me about Lisa. They did have an affair.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ Nell breathed. Her eyes glittered and she sat down, an odd expression on her face. ‘You know … I wish I could tell you that surprises me, but it doesn’t,’ she said. ‘I was kind of wondering if that was coming.’ She reached over and took Josie’s hand. ‘The cow. I can’t believe she did that. And so … What? He’s left you for her?’

  Josie shook her head glumly. ‘Oh no. That was just for starters. That was all in the past, he said, but I don’t know when. No, he’s gone off with someone else now.’ To her surprise, a hollow laugh fell out of her mouth. ‘Talk about Casanova. There was me thinking I’d married Mr Committed, and all the time I was shacked up with Mr Lover-Lover.’ Then she looked up, only just registering what Nell had said. ‘What do you mean, anyway? About not being surprised?’

  Nell grimaced. ‘Just … the photo thing, when we were at Lisa’s. I did think it was weird,’ she confessed. ‘I didn’t want to say so at the time, because I knew it would send you into a flap, but it did make me wonder if Lisa fancied him.’ She put a hand on Josie’s. ‘You know, it might just have been a shag. Just one stupid shag. We’ve all done it.’

  Josie couldn’t help glaring at the photo on the kitchen noticeboard, a black and white wedding photo of her and Pete, their faces turned towards each other. ‘I haven’t,’ she said fiercely. ‘Not since I got married, anyway. Being married is supposed to change all that one-stupid-shag stuff, isn’t it?’

  Nell nodded. ‘It’s supposed to,’ she agreed. There was a pause. ‘So where’s Pete now? Who’s this other woman?’

  ‘Sabine,’ Josie replied tonelessly. ‘And he says he’s in love with her.’