What Goes Around...

I grab some dinner. Not the burgers and pizza that we seem to be living on these days - I actually ring ahead and order Italian. I pick it up and we get home and Charlotte is delighted to see us, and with food!

I throw her dress in the dryer and make a massive pot of tea. Luke rings when he lands but, with the way the traffic is, he’s still a while away. ‘No, you can’t wait up for him,’ I tell Charlotte and I see her up to bed.

‘Love you,’ she says.

‘Love you too.’ I give her a kiss.

‘Sweet dreams,’ she calls as I reach the door.

‘Sweet dreams,’ I say.

‘See you in the morning.’

I close my eyes. I feel this tension building inside and I wish she’d stop, I wish the world would just stop for a moment and let me get my breath. I can’t ask Luke and Jess to have her now. The only person I could ask is Mum – she keeps offering.

Yeah, like I’d let her have Charlotte for a few days, like I’d trust my mother with a child.

I don’t know how she has the gall to even ask.

‘See you in the morning,’ I say and head downstairs.

‘What are you doing?’ Jess asks as I haul the ironing board out. ‘Can’t you do it in the morning?’ Then she laughs, she’s looking a lot better. ‘Sorry, I forgot it’s you.’

Jess still thinks I’m super organised, little does she know that it’s all gone to pot.

I must get back into my routines.

I feel safer with them.

I must go on a diet too.

I iron Charlotte’s dress and I put out socks and I sign a school note as Jess watches on and we chat.

‘It’s a lot of work.’

‘Kids are,’ I say and then I look over and try to make a little joke. ‘Are you sure that you won’t change your mind and have one.’

And, just when I thought I’d cheered her up, Jess starts crying, not a lot, just a bit. ‘Shit, Jess…’

Me and my mouth! Maybe they’re trying, maybe she just lost one. I go and put my arms around her. It feels strange to have a human in them; I’ve just stopped all contact really. She weeps for a moment and then she tells me.

‘I don’t know what I want.’

She cries for maybe another minute and then she pulls away. ‘Sorry.’

‘Stop saying sorry.’ Why does everyone keep apologising to me?

‘Talk to me, Jess.’

‘You don’t need it now.’

‘Jess, please.’

I’m sick of people telling me what I need and what I don’t. I’m sick of people walking on eggshells around me but then again I don’t want anyone close, I don’t want anyone too near.

‘You pong!’ Jess says, as she pulls away. ‘Have you been down to the stables?’

‘Yeah,’ I smile. ‘I made a start cleaning out Noodle’s stable today.’ I have to go back tomorrow, there’s just so much to be done. I don’t tell Jess that though. ‘Talk to me,’ I offer again.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Jess shrugs. ‘I just,’ she shakes her head; she doesn’t want to talk about whatever it is that’s on her mind. ‘Let’s have a brandy.’

‘Are you sure you ought to?’ I frown. ‘Should you drink with a head injury?’

‘It’s a bruise,’ Jess says and then her eyes light up as I open the sideboard. ‘Oh, my, God!’

‘I know!’ Name a drink and I can make it. Everybody brought bottles for the funeral and for days beforehand too. It’s the same with the cupboards and freezers. They’re full to bursting with food.

I really could hide here.

I could probably not go out for a month.

It’s an incredibly appealing thought.

I pull out some brandy glasses – his nice ones. I pour two glasses and we sit in the lounge and I warm it with my palms. We sit in silence for a moment and I look at my friend and she can tell me anything, I hope she knows that.

Except, I can’t.

I can’t.

Not all of it.

None of it.

I can’t.

But for a reason, I can’t yet fathom, I do. ‘I slept with Noel.’

I see her face jerk up.

I hear my voice and I can’t believe I’ve said it and, from the look on her face, she can’t believe that I’ve said it either.

‘After the funeral,’ I say and I close my eyes, half expecting me to be wearing the brandy she’s holding. ‘He came to pick up the kids.’

Why am I telling her?

Why?

Why?

Why?

‘I’m so ashamed.’

She’s just sitting there stunned.

‘Lucy?’

It all spills out, how he came to the door, how we both just sort of exploded, how we barely made it inside. I’m gagging almost at the end of it; I’m gagging and furious with myself. Not just for what happened but that I’m telling her. I still don’t know why I am.

I just know that it helps. That, when she crosses the room and puts her arms around me, for the first time since his death, I am held and comforted and I let myself be held and comforted, and it helps.

‘I slept with my stepdaughter’s husband.’

‘She’s the same age as you.’ Jess is calm. Jess is a lot more open minded than me - she was a bit of a wild girl once and she just makes what happens less of a big deal. ‘Come on Lucy, they’ve broken up. You’re making this sound worse than it is.’

No.

It is worse.

‘I’m a mess,’ I say.

No, you’re not,’ she promises.

But she doesn’t know it all.

And nor do you.

I didn’t go to the stables today. That was yesterday and I’m still wearing the same clothes.

I’m trying so hard to hold it all together, I’m trying so hard to get back to my routines.

But I can’t.

‘I’m falling apart here.’

‘No,’ she insists. ‘You’re the strongest woman I know.’

But I’m not.

I’m not.

‘I can’t stand that Gloria …’

‘What’s Gloria got to do with this?’ Jess says.

‘What she must think of me.’

‘As if she’s ever going to know.’ I’m too ashamed to tell her that Gloria does, but Jess carries on. ‘And, if she does find out, why would you care what Gloria thinks?’ I don’t know. I just know that I do. ‘Why do you need Gloria’s approval?’

Jess and I haven’t had a night, just us, in ages. We have another brandy and a chat and we discuss that the banks, as Luke predicted, have turned down my application for a mortgage. Jess tells me that she’s going to get Luke to come over and help me sort it out.

This weekend, she says.

We’ll sort it out.

And then we talk about her work, but she doesn’t know if she’s taking the promotion and, I don’t know, there’s something else, I just don’t know what it is. I know she’s just had a car crash, I don’t expect amazing company, but there’s something wrong and I don’t know what it is.

I’m worried for Jess and normally (just in case you haven’t noticed) I’m only worried about me.

Luke arrives and he’s as disapproving as ever.

I see his eyes run over my roots. I see him glance down at my expanding body and I feel his eyes take in my rather scruffy house as he walks through and then his eyes land on the glasses on the coffee table.

‘Brandy?’ He looks at me. ‘With a head injury?’

He’s pissed off, I can tell.

‘It’s a bruise,’ Jess says and she tells him the state of the car and what happened, but when she tells Luke, she says that it was completely the other guy’s fault and then he says it’s time to get her home. He thanks me for taking care of her.

I hear his sarcastic barb but, as Jess gets in the car, he walks over to me.

‘Are you taking care of yourself?’

‘Yes.’

He stands and jiggles his keys for a moment. ‘We’ll get the money sorted.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You can afford to go the hairdresser’s, Lucy,’ he tries to make a joke. ‘You’re not that broke.’

‘I know.’

And then his keys jiggle again.

I wish he’d just go.

‘How’s Charlotte?’

‘Okay,’ I say and then I shake my head, because, no, she’s not. ‘I guess it’s early days.’

‘Have you thought about seeing your GP?’

I nod. ‘She’s got an appointment next week.’

‘I meant, for you.’

For me?

Because my house isn’t immaculate and my roots aren’t done?

Arrogant prick.

I don’t say that though, I just say goodnight and give Jess a smile and a wave, but as soon as they drive off, I head back into the house and I start to tidy it.

Really tidy it.

I start in the kitchen and when the washing up is done I wipe down the benches and I remember to put out our breakfast things – for all the routines I’ve broken, that one’s remained.

I go through to the lounge and I polish.

And then, while the ironing board is still up, I get a whole lot done.

I start to feel better.

I head upstairs and Luke’s words still irk.

As if Doctor Patel can help.

She didn’t get me even before it all happened, she certainly won’t get me now.

I take off my boots and I glance at the clock and set my alarm.

It’s three am and I’m too tired to undress, in fact I’m too tired to even get in the bed, so I lie on top, though, I’m actually not that tired. I just lie there thinking and maybe Luke’s right about one thing.