Authors: Alice Ross
Her mobile rang. Her parents’ number flashed on the screen. For the first time ever, Miranda experienced a pang of joy at seeing it. She’d arrange to go and see them. Next week.
‘Hello, Mum,’ she chirruped. ‘How are you?’
‘Not good, dear. I’m afraid I’ve some bad news.’
*****
‘So Faye’s okay?’
Sitting at the kitchen table, her mobile pressed to her ear, Julia felt better than she had in days. Such was the effect of Max’s voice. She’d been filling him in on the Spanish escapade – omitting the part about Miranda.
‘Faye is perfectly fine,’ she replied. ‘It’s her pride that’s most dented.’
Max chuckled. ‘It all sounds like quite an adventure. She must have some guts, your daughter.’
‘Hmm,’ mused Julia, unable to summon an ounce of enthusiasm regarding any of Faye’s attributes. Weary of talking about the girl, she abruptly changed the subject. ‘Look, the real reason I rang is that I’d like to see you again. Soon.’
‘Okay. I’d like that too. Just tell me where and when and I’ll be there.’
‘Your place? Lunchtime Thursday?’
‘You asking me to play hooky?’
‘Ah ha.’
‘Well, I’m sure I could wangle a day working from home. I’ll see you on Thursday.’
‘Indeed you will,’ said Julia, her entire body tingling with excitement. Because this time she meant business. Serious business. This latest fiasco with Faye had galvanised her determination to do something different; something exciting; something completely reckless and utterly outrageous.
And what could be more reckless and outrageous than sex with your lover in the middle of a Thursday?
*****
‘Your father passed away this morning. A heart attack.’
Her mother’s words rang in Miranda’s ears hours after first hearing them.
Her immediate reaction had been one of disbelief. Swiftly elbowed aside by guilt.
‘But I wanted to come and see you both next week,’ had been her feeble response.
‘He would have liked that,’ had been her mother’s tearful reply.
Although Miranda couldn’t imagine why her father would have liked it. Since her return from Briardene, she’d grown increasingly apart from her parents. Vowing never to forgive them for sending her away. But until now, she’d never appreciated their reasons; never appreciated the fact that, for all the inheritance had been more money than they could ever have dreamed of saving, they hadn’t spent a penny of it on themselves. Their only concern had been their daughter and her future. Miranda, though, so wrapped up in her own self-pity, had completely failed to recognise that fact. And never once had she thought to thank them for putting her own interests above anything they might have wanted. She’d been a terrible daughter. A complete and utter bitch.
Two bereavements in such a short space of time. Each one drenched in guilt.
Which had led Miranda to a momentous decision.
She couldn’t go on like this. She’d lost track of who she really was. She needed to find that person again. To rediscover her true self. And she couldn’t even begin to do that while still dragging around the burden of being unfaithful to Doug.
So, she’d decided to come clean. To tell Doug everything. He was a good, decent man, who deserved better. And if he told her to pack her bags and get out, then it was no more than she deserved.
*****
Julia was feeling very naughty. She’d been into town and, for the first time in her life, paid homage to an exotic underwear shop. The visit had proved a revelation. Usually only renewing her undergarments when they’d turned a nasty shade of grey, or the elastic had given up, replenishing consisted of nothing more exciting than grabbing a couple of six-packs from a well-known high street favourite. But this morning she’d been introduced to a whole new world. A world of velvet thongs, lace-up basques, sexy Brazilians and see-through baby-dolls. Never before had she seen so many gorgeous tiny creations.
Steering clear of the more risqué items, she had – after an hour of perusing and indecision – purchased a beautiful pink silk camisole and matching French knickers, both trimmed with coffee-coloured lace. Pretty, but conservative. Who knew, though. If this thing with Max developed, she might well be more daring next time.
Julia had briefly considered letting Miranda in on her secret. The woman had, after all, shared just about every aspect of her life with Julia now, even asking her opinion on confessing all about the miscarriage to her husband. Julia hadn’t thought it her place to give an opinion. She’d merely muttered something about Miranda having to do whatever she deemed right.
But, as one-sided as all this confiding seemed, Julia couldn’t bring herself to say anything about Max. Their renewed relationship was far too fledgling; far too precious. And, frankly, after almost two decades of feeling like her life wasn’t her own, this was something she didn’t want to share.
Back at Primrose Cottage, Julia headed straight for her bedroom. She couldn’t wait to try on her new purchases; to feel the soft silk against her skin. Wearing such luxurious items, no woman could fail to feel sexy. And on Thursday, that was exactly how she intended to feel. She whipped them out of the carrier bag and laid them on the duvet, excitement swirling in her stomach. What would Max think of them? And how would his hands feel on them? A shiver of lust ricocheted down her spine. God! The mere thought made her …
The telephone rang.
‘Mrs Blakelaw?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s St Hild’s here. I’m calling about Leo. I’m afraid he’s had a bit of an accident.’
Miranda couldn’t believe how nervous she was waiting for Doug at the airport. Even more nervous than when she’d confessed all on the phone the day before.
He hadn’t said much, scarcely interrupting her while she’d rambled on. And on. And on. She couldn’t recall exactly when the tears had begun. But once they had, they didn’t stop. Not until three hours after they’d finished the call.
Doug’s parting words had been brief. ‘I’m coming over. As soon as I can. I’ll text you with the flight details.’
Of course he could have got a taxi home. But that would have meant more waiting around for Miranda. Chewing her nails. So here she was. At the airport. Surrounded by all the usual hustle and bustle. The same hustle and bustle she’d loved so much in her days working as cabin crew. She wondered if she was too old to go back to it. And, upon subsequently observing a group of uniformed, trolley-pulling twenty-year-olds, realised she probably was. Well, she’d have to look at alternatives, because she’d need a job. She certainly couldn’t expect Doug to continue supporting her. Not when they were divorced. She’d have to fend for herself.
She spotted Doug through the crowd streaming out of the arrivals hall. Her heart skipped a beat as their eyes met. He looked grave. Like he’d aged ten years since she’d last seen him only a week or so before. With shaking legs, she threaded her way over to him.
‘Hi,’ she muttered, smiling weakly.
Doug didn’t return her smile. His normally sparkling eyes looked steely. ‘You didn’t have to pick me up. I could have got a taxi.’
Miranda shrugged. ‘I know. I just thought …’ She trailed off, having no idea how to complete the sentence. ‘Do you, er, want something to eat? Or drink?’
Doug didn’t reply, but merely stood there. Looking at her. Miranda’s thundering heart picked up apace. What if he told her to go? Now. That their marriage was over and he never wanted to see her again?
‘Let’s go to the pub down the road,’ he eventually said. ‘It’ll be quieter there.’
How Miranda managed to drive to the pub, she would never know. Inside was thankfully a complete contrast to the bright lights and chaos of the airport. They found a secluded corner and sat down with their drinks. A sparkling water for her. A pint of lager for him.
‘I’m sorry about your dad,’ Doug said. ‘He was a good man.’
Miranda blinked back a tear. ‘Yes. He was. The best.’
‘I’ll stay on for the funeral. I would have come over for it anyway.’
Miranda nodded. ‘Thanks.’
A brief hiatus followed, during which Miranda’s head began to reel. What should she say? Should she …?
‘So, how’ve you been? After the, er …?’
Re-piercing the slice of lemon in her glass with the cocktail stick, Miranda shrugged. ‘A bit tired, but I’m getting there.’
‘And Josie. Does she have any idea what …?’
Miranda jerked up her head. ‘God no. By the time they allowed her out of hospital, I’d pulled myself together. I told her I’d caught a tummy bug.’
Doug nodded thoughtfully, reached for his glass and took a sip of lager.
Miranda went back to fiddling with the cocktail stick.
‘So. This thing with Eduardo …’
‘There was no
thing
. I can’t stand the guy. It only happened once. I was drunk. And bored. Very bored. Not that that’s any excuse.’
Doug didn’t comment. Setting down his glass, he reached for a spare beer mat and began diligently folding back the corners.
‘I’ve been thinking …’ he said at length.
Miranda’s stomach began to churn.
‘… that a lot of this is my fault.’
Miranda’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. ‘Your fault? But you weren’t even here.’
Doug sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. ‘Precisely. I’m never here. Ever since Josie was born, I’ve been gallivanting around here, there and everywhere, leaving you to cope with everything.’
‘You’ve been working hard.’
‘I’ve been working
too
hard. And for far too long. I’ve been so wrapped up in my career, so desperate to be a good provider for you and Josie, that I’ve lost sight of what’s really important. And it’s taken me nearly losing you to realise that.’
‘You haven’t nearly lost me.’
‘No? What if this thing with Eduardo had developed? What if you fell for him? What if you realised it was much better having a man who was around, rather than one you saw only a couple of times a year?’
‘I would never have thought that,’ countered Miranda.
‘And I never should have left you in Buttersley when you were so miserable. I could kick myself for doing that now. I know you never complained but I could tell you weren’t happy. You must have felt exactly like you did at that boarding school of yours.’
Miranda couldn’t reply. She’d been so ready for Doug to tell her it was all over, she could scarcely take in what he was saying.
‘Look,’ he continued, reaching across the table and taking her hand. ‘I’m not over the moon about this Eduardo thing, but I do feel partly responsible. If I hadn’t left you alone so much, then maybe it wouldn’t have happened. Has there been anybody else …?’
‘Of course not,’ cut in Miranda. ‘But what about you? I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d had women throwing themselves at you left, right and centre.’
Doug chuckled. And for the first time since they’d sat down, Miranda felt a glimmer of hope. ‘I can’t say I haven’t had offers. But I’ve never been interested. You’ve always been the only woman for me. Ever since you served me my first coffee on the flight to New York.’
Miranda looked directly into his eyes. ‘And now? When you know what I’ve done?’
Doug’s mouth stretched into a broad grin. ‘I haven’t changed my opinion one jot.’
*****
‘So. You ready to tell me what this is all about?’ Julia sat on Leo’s desk chair, while he lay under his duvet. He’d fainted at school and, when Julia bowled up to collect him, had looked so pale and thin that tears had sprung to her eyes. Leo had never been fat. A little on the stocky side, perhaps, but now he appeared positively skeletal. Since when had he lost so much weight? And, more poignantly, how hadn’t she noticed?
During the drive back to the house, he hadn’t uttered a word and, upon arrival, had shuffled straight off to his room. Julia, meanwhile, had checked the kitchen cupboards. Almost every one was stuffed with packets of mini Mars bars. She’d blithely carried on buying them, without noticing they weren’t being eaten. And why hadn’t she noticed? Because she’d been far too wrapped up in herself. Far too self-absorbed to be aware of what was happening to her son. It was despicable behaviour. But now wasn’t the time for self-flagellation. Now was the time to focus on Leo.
‘So?’ she gently probed.
Leo cleared his throat. ‘I, um, think I’ve been a bit stupid.’
‘We all do stupid things occasionally,’ said Julia. If anyone knew that it was her. ‘Run it past me and I’ll tell you what I think.’
A slight flush touched Leo’s cheeks. ‘Well … there’s this girl …’
Julia nodded.
‘… She’s called Betsy and she’s really cool. And dead fit. She’s in, like, every sports team there is.’
Julia nodded again.
‘And I really wanted to ask her out but I thought she’d think I was way too fat. So I …’
‘ … stopped eating and started running a marathon every day?’
Leo screwed up his nose. ‘Something like that. And now, when word of this gets out, she’s going to think I’m a total loser.’
‘Of course she won’t,’ countered Julia. ‘She’ll think you’ve been training way too hard. Which you have. But maybe you should have asked her out first, without going to all this trouble.’
‘I, um, didn’t know how to,’ Leo confessed, his flush deepening. ‘I tried to ask your advice. But you …’ He trailed off, fiddling with the edge of the duvet cover.
Julia’s heart sank. Damn. That must’ve been the day she’d pushed him aside in the hall. The day after she’d returned from Spain, when she’d been furious with Paul and Faye. All this time she’d been tarnishing Leo with the same brush as Faye, when he hadn’t caused her a moment’s worry. And the one time he’d needed her, she’d brusquely dismissed him. She couldn’t have felt any worse if she’d bagged up a litter of puppies and drowned them in the river.
‘Look, you’re shattered. Get some rest and we’ll talk about it later,’ she said.
After planting a kiss on his forehead, Julia wandered into her bedroom. Her new silk underwear still lay on the bed. Staring at her accusingly. Just what kind of mother was she, swanning around looking at knickers while her own child suffered? And then there was Faye. As much as she didn’t rank as Julia’s favourite person at the moment, the girl was still her daughter and she still needed her mother.