Over You Read online

  ‘Is that where you’re up to?’ Annette asked, peering over her sunglasses.

  Josie thought. ‘Well, I certainly haven’t done any slagging around,’ she replied.

  ‘God, that’s the best bit,’ Annette told her, leaning over like a conspirator. ‘You definitely can’t miss that bit out.’

  Josie laughed again. ‘That’s a million miles away from what I want now. Ugh. Sex with anybody else. No way.’

  Annette grinned. ‘Yeah, I remember saying that too, in the beginning,’ she assured Josie. ‘But … well, whatever gets you through the night, that’s my motto.’

  Josie sipped her drink, surprised at the way the conversation was going. She’d been expecting some man-bashing, a dollop of They’re all bastards from Annette, but all this honesty … It was fantastic.

  ‘So life goes on, then,’ Josie said. ‘That’s good to know.’

  ‘Yeah, life goes on,’ Annette repeated. ‘How are the boys doing with it all?’

  Josie gazed over at them. ‘Up and down,’ she replied. ‘Toby’s been angry. Hitting everything, you know. Sam’s gone the other way. Anxious, and insecure.’ She sighed. ‘I hate it. That’s the worst bit, what it’s done to them.’

  ‘They’ll come through it,’ Annette said. ‘It is grim, I know, but I promise it gets better. Oliver was angry too, blamed me for it all, like I’d driven Gary away, but he’s fine now. We’ve both got our heads round it.’ She smiled. ‘We’ve moved here – fresh start and all that – and I’ve got a new job, plans again. It feels good. Not how I thought my life was going to turn out, but it’s all right.’

  Josie was silent for a moment ‘Thanks,’ she said. It’s good to speak to someone who’s been through it Someone who truly knows how I’m feeling.’

  ‘Takes one to know one, right?’ Annette said. ‘You’ll get there. And don’t forget the getting-laid bit. It’s a crucial part of the recovery process, feeling fanciable again. You just wait.’

  It might have helped her, but for me? It is so not going to happen,’ Josie said to Nell on the phone that evening. She’d been thinking about Annette’s predictions, and the idea still filled her with despair. ‘I mean, it’s terrifying, for starters. I haven’t slept with anyone other than Pete for years – eight years! And, more to the point, I don’t want to. The thought of letting someone else see me naked – all the stretchmarks and dimply cellulite, and handfuls of fat …’

  ‘Oh, listen to yourself! You can stop that right there,’ Nell said firmly. ‘You’re lovely. And no woman gets to be our age without a few disfigurements along the way.’

  ‘Yes, but yours are interesting ones – like your dog-bite scar from Thailand, and your motorbike-crash scar from the Philippines …’ Josie sighed. ‘There are glamorous disfigurements, and there are ugh-yuck-what’s-that? disfigurements. And I know which I’ve got.’ She stretched her legs along the sofa. ‘Anyway, that’s enough about my non-existent sex life. How about you? What’s happening with Gareth?’

  Now it was Nell’s turn to sigh down the phone. ‘Well … We got back together …’

  ‘Great!’

  ‘… And then he dumped me.’

  ‘Oh no!’

  ‘Yeah, not so great. He was angry with me at first, for walking out on him, so I’ve had to do a lot of grovelling, and arse-kissing. And I do mean that literally.’

  Josie giggled. ‘You can spare me the details, thanks,’ she said. ‘So what then, you got back together …’

  ‘Got back together, yes. For a week. Then he started up with all these questions about the future. “But where is this all going? Where do we go from here?”’

  ‘Ahh. And what did you say?’

  ‘Well, I said, don’t ask me, I haven’t the faintest! Because I’d rather not have it all mapped out like that. I don’t want us to be saying, We’ll buy a house in a year, have a child a year after that, have a second child two years on from that …’ She sounded exasperated. ‘I know some people like all that planning. But I don’t. So I couldn’t really answer his questions, because I don’t know!’

  Josie clucked sympathetically. ‘It’s a difficult one.’

  ‘It is. And that’s why he dumped me. Because he wanted me to know.’ She groaned. ‘We kind of hit a deadlock over it.’

  Josie felt her eyes drifting to the postcard from Rob, still up on the mantelpiece, as she and Nell discussed a few other things, then said goodbye. It was always so complicated, wasn’t it, trying to make a relationship work? Maybe Rob had the right idea, taking off and doing his own thing. On impulse, she reached for a pad of paper and pen.

  Dear Rob, she wrote. How are you? Thanks for the postcard. I was only a tiny bit jealous to hear about what you’ve been doing …

  She licked her lips, wondering what else to write. He was sure to think her life was very humdrum compared to his. She couldn’t compete with roaring lions, and elephants at breakfast time. And surely he wouldn’t want to hear about her marriage breakdown in all its gory detail.

  She put the pen down and switched the telly on instead. She’d write to him when she actually had something interesting to say. She just hoped she wouldn’t have too long to wait.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Before Josie knew it July had come, and her birthday. She’d been dreading it. She couldn’t help remembering last year, when Pete had brought her breakfast in bed, and taken her out for dinner in the evening. He’d sneaked the boys out shopping to choose presents for her, and they’d done scribbly pictures in birthday cards, too. She’d felt truly loved, special, like it mattered that she was in the world.

  But this year …

  This year, who would remember? The boys, bless them, had no idea. They were too young to know about dates. It was just another morning to them – breakfast, being nagged into getting dressed, suffering a wet flannel over their Weetabixy mouths …

  ‘It’s Mummy’s birthday today,’ Josie said that Thursday morning when it became apparent they didn’t know. She tried to sound casual about it, like it didn’t matter, but she couldn’t help a sigh escaping with the words.

  ‘We did you a card,’ Sam said through his toothpaste.

  ‘When are we having the cake?’ Toby wanted to know.

  Josie stopped brushing Sam’s teeth in surprise. ‘Did you really do me a card?’ she asked him. ‘With Daddy?’

  ‘No, with—’

  ‘Ssshhh! It’s a secret!’ Toby said, scowling at his brother.

  There was a knock at the door just then, and Josie quickly rinsed their toothbrushes before going down to answer it. Emma was standing there, with Clara hanging back behind her mum’s legs, and Millie in her school uniform. ‘Happy birthday!’ Emma said, handing over a present and card.

  ‘Have you got the surprise?’ Toby asked, hopping from one foot to the other behind Josie.

  Emma smiled. ‘Yes, love. Here you go.’ She handed them a couple of brightly painted cards. ‘The boys made these when I was looking after them the other day,’ she explained. ‘God, do you mean they actually kept it secret?’ she laughed, seeing the surprised look on Josie’s face.

  Josie nodded, not trusting herself to speak suddenly. Catch a grip! she told herself. They’re only cards! But it was the feeling-special thing, that was what had got to her. The thought of Emma and the boys spreading newspaper on the table, getting out the paints and brushes, daubing on the colours in great messy splodges, and then Emma clearing the lot up afterwards – all for her. For her.

  Toby pushed his card into Josie’s face. ‘Open it, open it!’ he shouted, jigging up and down. Josie opened it up to read, in Emma’s handwriting, To a brilliant mum on her birthday, love from Toby.’

  ‘And look, I did the T for Toby – there, look, see?’

  Josie bit her lip, feeling tears well in her eyes. ‘Oh, sweetheart, well done,’ she said. It’s lovely. Sam, is that for me too?’

  She took the other card from Sam’s outstretched hand. It’s a picture of me and Toby on th
e beach at Devon,’ he explained. ‘And that’s a lion.’

  ‘Oh, of course it is,’ Josie said, grateful for the information. She’d been just about to ask if it was a frog. To Mum, Happy birthday, love from Sam.

  ‘And I did the smiley face there, too,’ he said, pointing proudly at a lopsided oval under his name.

  ‘They’re brilliant,’ Josie said, kissing both boys. She smiled at Emma. ‘Thanks, Em. That was really sweet of you.’

  ‘And I’ve booked a table in Browns for a load of us tonight,’ Emma went on. ‘Babysitter’s all sorted too,’ she said firmly. ‘I thought you needed a treat.’

  ‘Em … thanks,’ Josie said, feeling dazzled. ‘You’re a superstar!’ She opened the present Emma had given her, to find a necklace with pretty blue stones on it and a matching bracelet. ‘These are gorgeous – and the cards … Oh, I’m going to cry in a minute!’

  ‘Don’t do that!’ Emma said, hugging her. ‘Not on your birthday! It’s meant to be bad luck, isn’t it?’ She knelt down to address the boys. ‘Right, you two – shall I walk you up to playgroup this morning? Give your mum a break?’ She straightened up and winked at Josie. ‘You’d better start thinking about what you’re going to wear tonight.’

  Josie nodded, lost for words. Emma was so kind, so thoughtful. She’d totally gone the extra mile for her today. She kissed the boys again and waved them off. For all her worries, she was actually feeling more special than she had done on her last birthday. Sure, breakfast in bed and dinner out with Pete had been lovely. But they were your classic birthday rituals, weren’t they? No-brainer choices.

  Letting the boys mess up your kitchen then organizing a babysitter, girly mates and a restaurant … it was a good friend who would do all that. A very good friend.

  Josie made herself a pot of coffee and took it out into the garden. The sun was shining and she sat on the wooden bench at the back of the patio to catch the early morning rays. The garden was reviving now: she could smell the fresh, perfumed scent from her lilies, the sweet peas were clambering up everything they could reach and the cornflowers were starting to unfold their jewel-bright heads. The cat from next door came and sat with her companionably, a throaty purr rumbling as Josie stroked its warm fur.

  She sipped her coffee. Another birthday. If she could have foreseen this day a whole year ago, she would have been horrified at the way her life had fallen apart. But slowly, slowly, she was rebuilding it.

  It was six weeks now since he’d walked out on her. Six whole weeks. She had stopped crying every night. She had stopped cleaning everything in sight. She still felt frightened by what lay ahead in the future – the thought of spending the rest of her life on her own was too terrifying to contemplate – but she was taking it gently. One day at a time. And so far, today was going well.

  The postman knocked at the front door just then, and she jerked out of her thoughts and went to get her mail – a parcel, and a pile of cards. She sat at the kitchen table with it all, back door still wide open, and tackled the parcel first. It was from her mum, and contained … Oh, thanks, Mum. A book called The Single Parent’s Handbook, and a recipe box.

  Josie wasn’t sure if she felt more like laughing or crying. You couldn’t make it up. Not with her mother.

  Pete had sent a card, and Josie held her breath as she opened it. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted him to have written inside. A tender message, offering her babysitting and apologies? Or would he have been so cruel as to have signed it from Sabine too?

  Neither. To Josie, Happy birthday from Pete.

  Very bland. Very safe. Not even risking a Love from.

  She sighed. Oh, whatever. At least he’d remembered. She was surprised he’d managed that much. Things had been strained between them after Toby’s hospital rush and Pete’s resulting crapness. Since then, he had been civil to Josie, and she was managing to be the same back. But all the hopes she’d cherished of him realizing his mistake and returning to her were dying, little by little, every day. It was over, it was over, it was over. She couldn’t let herself even dream otherwise.

  She opened the envelope with Nell’s handwriting on next, for some light relief. Nell had sent a funny card with a few condoms inside and a scribbled message – Make sure you get through these by Christmas, Slapper’s Orders.

  Yeah, right, Josie thought, rolling her eyes. What was Nell like? Christmas in five years’ time, maybe.

  The next envelope was addressed in Lisa’s sloping handwriting. Lisa had always been good with birthdays, never missed one. Organized, that was what she was, noting everything in her beautiful leather-bound diaries, always in control. But what on earth had given her the idea that Josie might want a card from her?

  Josie picked it up, then hesitated. She was quite tempted to stuff the thick, cream envelope straight into the dustbin. She felt detached from Lisa now, removed, as if Lisa was someone from a former life. She’d done the angry time, hating Lisa and calling her every name under the sun, but things had moved on now, and the sting had been taken out of the wound. Weary resignation, as Annette might have said.

  She got up to pour herself another coffee, but her eyes kept flicking back to the card, lying there on the table. Should she open it? Or would it be more sensible to ignore Lisa full-stop, cut her right out of the picture? What could Lisa possibly have to say that would make things all right again?

  Josie leaned against the worktop, stirring her coffee so hard it slopped over the side of the mug. She busied herself wiping the surface clean, wiping the bottom of the mug and washing up the teaspoon.

  Then she sat down and took a deep breath. And opened the card.

  It was a classy one, of course. No naff cartoons in lurid colours for Lisa. No jokes about getting old and wrinkly, or drinking too much. It was an abstract Liberty print, all blues and greens, woven in an elegant design. Josie rolled her eyes. Very Lisa. Pete would have taken one look at it and said, ‘What’s with the wallpaper?’ It was amazing to think that he and Lisa had ever got it together when …

  Anyway. She wasn’t going to think about that. Not today.

  She opened the card. It felt thick and expensive between her fingers.

  Dear Josie, she read. Thinking about you on your birthday. I hope it’s a happy one. I know you must still be angry with me—

  Damn right she was!

  but I’d love to be able to explain, if you’d give me the chance. If our friendship has ever meant anything to you—

  Cheap shot, Lise. Cheap.

  then please call me, so we can talk.

  Your friend, Lisa

  ‘Your friend’? Your friend? Yeah, right! What planet was Lisa on?

  Josie’s fingers tightened on the card, seized by the urge to crumple it up. She put it face-down on the table instead. She’s trying her best, a voice reasoned in her head.

  ‘Should have tried harder not to shag my husband then, shouldn’t she?’ Josie said out loud.

  She picked up the last envelope, recognizing her brother’s handwriting. The card inside had a picture of a pissed-looking woman with a fag hanging out of her mouth, brandishing a full glass of wine. Subtle, Stu was not.

  Happy birthday Josie! he’d written inside. Love Stu and Mel. PS Party at the flat this Saturday – can you come? Spare bed if you fancy a weekend away. x

  Josie could feel the excuses brimming inside her, was already composing them in her head – Sorry, would love to, but too short notice, impossible to get a babysitter, cant leave the boys …

  Then she stared around the kitchen, empty as it was of the boys’ chatter and laughing. Her whole life, her whole world, had been lived out in the confines of these walls lately, it seemed. Maybe … maybe she should say yes to Stu’s invitation. Just this once. Maybe she should get out there, dress up for a party, have an evening of fun away from the boring safety of her own house.

  Should she?

  Well, why not? Why shouldn’t she have a night off for once? The boys were well. Stu’s flat
was only an hour or so away. And it had been a long, long time since she’d been to a party.

  She munched through a biscuit. Sod it. She deserved a treat. She’d think of herself for a change, just like Pete had done for so long. And it was her birthday today. Surely Pete couldn’t say no to her on her birthday?

  She went and dialled his work number before she could change her mind. Already, she felt giddy at her daring. What would she wear to a party? What would she talk about? Could she really do this?

  ‘Pete, hi, it’s me. Josie,’ she added when he answered.

  ‘Oh, hi,’ he said, sounding apprehensive. She hadn’t called him at work for some time. It was safer to leave messages on his mobile, she’d found. That way she didn’t have to actually speak to him. ‘Um … Happy birthday.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said. She took a deep breath. Go for it. ‘Are you doing anything this Saturday? I was wondering if you could babysit. Have the boys overnight.’

  ‘Well, I …’

  ‘It’s just that I haven’t been out for quite a while. And Stu’s asked me over for the weekend.’ Probably best not to mention the party, she decided. ‘So – what do you say?’ She bit her lip as she waited for his reply, so hard she drew blood. It tasted hot and salty in her mouth, and she licked it away, heart thumping. ‘Pete?’

  ‘Um …’ He sounded like she’d caught him off guard. She could almost hear his mind whirring down the phone line.

  ‘I’ll ask Barbara, if you’re busy,’ she said while he thought. Ha – stroke of genius, Josie.

  ‘No need for that,’ Pete said quickly. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I’ll have them Saturday night. Why not?’

  Josie grinned, feeling exultant. It had been so easy, after all.

  ‘Great,’ she said. ‘So, shall we say you pick them up at about two? And I’ll be back by … Well, midday on Sunday, I guess.’ She was light-headed at the thought. Practically a whole day away. Wow. Should she really be doing this? Should she really trust him with them for all that time?