Do You Remember? (19 page)

Present Day

‘He’s asleep already. I think football, fresh air and giant portions of food have knocked him out,’ Emma said, returning to the living room.

They’d stopped for more food and drinks on the way home from the football stadium. Dominic had eaten nachos followed by pasta carbonara, then ice cream.

She stopped by the door, didn’t move any further into the room when she saw Chris was standing up. Usually he would have flicked on the TV, thrown his coat over a chair and be sitting on the sofa channel-hopping through the sports networks.

‘Listen, Em, I’m going to head off.’

His voice sounded a bit on edge, not normal. His hands were in the pockets of his jacket. It was almost as if he didn’t want to be near her.

‘What’s wrong, Chris?’ she asked. He couldn’t know. How could he know?

He made a noise in answer to her question. A strangulated sound she’d never heard before. The next time he looked at her, his eyes had a definite sheen to them. She didn’t know how to respond.

‘I saw you at the football…with Guy Duval,’ he stated.

What did that mean exactly? What had he seen? Could she deny it? Why did she want to deny it? She needed to end the relationship, didn’t she? What should she say?

Instead of saying anything she burst into tears, overwhelmed with a feeling of desperation, humiliation and treachery. She reached for the armchair and steadied herself.

‘Oh, Emma,’ Chris said, moving towards her.

As she wept uncontrollably he wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back and comforting her. She didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve this. She had cheated on him and he was holding her, soothing her tears. It wasn’t right. She stepped back from his embrace, wiping her tears with her forearm.

‘Why aren’t you angry?’ she asked him.

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Em. I guess I knew it was coming. Some time, some when.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘I’ve told you before. You’re way out of my league.’ He shrugged again.

‘No. It’s the other way around. I don’t deserve you. You’re special and I’m ruined. I was ruined when we met and there was nothing you could do to change that,’ she spoke.

He nodded, shuffled his feet and then locked eyes again.

‘Is he Dominic’s father?’ The question hung in the air, silence shrouding it only slightly.

What should she say? Should she tell him the truth? Didn’t he deserve something?

She nodded then and swallowed, dipping her head and avoiding his eyes. When she finally lifted her head back up, Chris was looking resigned.

‘I just knew…a sixth sense or something.’

‘I hadn’t seen him or had any contact since Dominic. He just turned up, opening Ally’s fitness centre and…’

‘You’re still in love with him,’ Chris finished for her.

She couldn’t respond. This was the hardest conversation she’d ever had. Her heart wasn’t just breaking for Chris; it was breaking for the loss of the relationship. There had been nothing bad about it. Chris had been everything a boyfriend should be. He just hadn’t been Guy.

‘What happened with you two way back then? Before Dominic?’ he asked.

Emma shut her eyes. This was the problem. You gave someone some information and it was never enough. They always wanted more. Like Ally wanting to know the names of all those boys she said she’d slept with.

‘I can’t, Chris.’

‘Why not? I mean, I can’t say this is great for me but for Dominic…he gets to meet his dad after all this time,’ Chris said.

‘No. No, Chris, you mustn’t say anything to Dominic about this.’

Now she was petrified. She shouldn’t have said anything. It was all very well trying to lessen the blow on someone’s feelings but not if it was going to cost her her relationship with Dominic.

‘I don’t understand. You’re going to get back together aren’t you? It looked very much like that from where I was standing at the stadium,’ he snapped.

Now he was angry and she was glad. Having him feel sorry for her when their relationship was crumbling before his eyes was far worse than any of his rage.

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say now. She had said too much again.

Chris stepped closer to her and put a hand on her arm.

‘You’ve got one amazing boy up there. Do one thing for me. Do the right thing by him.’

His voice cracked at the end of the last sentence and Emma let out an anguished sob as Chris opened the door to the hallway. He was leaving. He was leaving her. She closed her eyes, then hearing the front door open, she dashed after him.

‘Chris!’

He stopped in the doorway, turned to look at her, tears streaking his cheeks.

‘Take care of yourself, Emma.’ He paused, took a breath. ‘And take care of Dominic.’

With those words said, he left, closing the door for the last time.

He could hear laughing and voices chattering excitedly as he entered the house. Madeleine was obviously entertaining. She had done that a lot in France. Usually it was women like her, drinking too much, eating too little and discussing what was ‘hot’ or ‘not’. He slipped off his jacket, hanging it over the banister before moving towards the kitchen.

‘Guy!’ Madeleine greeted in excited tones. She threw her hands in the air and teetered towards him. She was wearing her favourite pair of Blahnik’s. He only knew what they were because he’d bought them for her and they’d cost close to a thousand Euros.

As she kissed both his cheeks he noticed her guests. Gabriella was there and…

He stepped out of Madeleine’s embrace and took another pace backwards.

‘Hello, Guy. You’ve come at the right time. I was just telling the girls here a few stories about La Baume,’ Keith greeted, raising his wine glass.

‘I’ve just remembered. I have left something at the club.
Merde!
My phone again. I should go and get it,’ he started, concentrating on Madeleine.

‘What? But you’ve only just arrived. It can wait. Come and sit with us. We are discussing the designs. Keith has some wonderful suggestions about the trim,’ Madeleine said, pulling his arm.

‘It’s looking gorgeous,’ Gabriella commented.

How was he going to leave? It would raise questions. What was he going to do? Keith had a self-satisfied smile on his face and he was in his house. How had this happened? Why had this happened after so long? He had no choice but to let Madeleine lead him to the table. He pulled up a seat opposite Gabriella and instinctively reached for the wine bottle.

‘How did the game go today, Guy? Win? Or not?’ Keith asked, offering a laugh at the women.

‘It is football…so boring,’ Madeleine said, waving a hand in dismissal.

‘You’re telling me! Luckily, Daniel realises it bores the pants off me now so he doesn’t talk details anymore,’ Gabriella responded.

‘We won,’ Guy answered, picking up a wine glass and starting to pour.

‘That’s fantastic. Well done you. Did you know this boy was a bleeding marvel at eighteen? Best thing I’ve ever seen,’ Keith continued.

Guy could feel he was starting to sweat and without looking he knew Keith’s eyes hadn’t left him. He almost spilt the wine and with haste, he put the bottle down and lifted the glass to his lips.

‘Oh, Guy. You didn’t say you knew Keith. It is so nice that you are old friends. We’re going to work so well together,’ Madeleine said, her excitement plain to see.

‘It will be just like old times,’ Keith said. ‘Won’t it, Guy?’

He sank the glass of wine in one gulp and replaced the glass quietly, unable to summon speech.

‘To old friends and new beginnings,’ Keith toasted, holding his glass aloft.

‘Old friends and new beginnings,’ the ladies chorused.

He’d had to endure two hours of that man in his house. Two hours with the looks across the table, the stories about La Baume, the hidden meanings, the wrapped up threats, with Madeleine and Gabriella giggling like schoolgirls. He’d drunk a bottle of wine on his own and now he was paying for it with another sore head. He didn’t suppose the slight concussion was helping either. But despite his hangover, when he woke up he made a decision. It was time to leave Madeleine. Her involvement with that man was the final nail in the coffin of their relationship with or without what was happening between him and Emma.

He dressed quickly, knowing Madeleine was out power-walking with the aerobics instructor that lived across the road. Elite people made friends quickly if there was networking to be done. Mutually appreciative blogging would take place soon after.

He opened the walk-in wardrobe and located his battered case from the top shelf. Madeleine hated his luggage. She said it was a disgrace. She did have a point. It was old and falling apart but it had belonged to his father. In fact it was the only thing he had to remind him he’d once had a father. And he only had it because his mother threw it at him once.

He put the case on the bed and opened it. He’d just take clothes. Fripperies were Madeleine’s thing, not his.

She didn’t know what to do. When she’d woken up that morning everything had felt so different. The bed was big, but then Chris hadn’t stayed every night. The house was quiet, but that was nothing to do with Chris either. Despite Chris never living at the property, it was like something was missing. She’d actually felt bereft. As if someone had died. And, in a way, they had. The couple that was Emma and Chris had died, and it was never coming back.

‘I thought Chris was coming with us,’ Dominic remarked for the third time as they walked up the path of her family home.

She hadn’t been able to tell him. She attempted over breakfast but the words wouldn’t come. What was the matter with her lately? She hadn’t been able to tell Chris it was over and now she couldn’t tell Dominic it was over either. Weak and cowardly, that’s what she was.

‘He had to work,’ she answered. She rang the doorbell and took a deep breath. Here she was, standing on the front doorstep of her family home where Marilyn, the woman her dad had slipped so quickly into a relationship with, was cooking them Sunday dinner.

She remembered quite vividly the last words she had spoken to Marilyn and they hadn’t been nice. In fact they’d been vile. But a lot of water had passed under the bridge. Both of them were older, wiser, moving on. Hopefully it would be forgotten. Perhaps if she apologised. As that thought rode through her mind she closed her eyes and shut it out. She wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

Mike opened the door, an apron over his short-sleeved shirt and khaki trousers, a wooden spoon in his hands.

‘Hello you two…oh, there’s only two of you. Where’s Chris? Couldn’t he park the car outside?’ Mike asked. He looked past Emma and Dominic to the street.

‘Mum said he has to work.’ Dominic pushed past Mike into the house. His tone suggested he didn’t believe the lie.

‘Dominic, wait,’ Emma called.

‘He’s alright, love. Are
you
alright?’ Mike asked, looking at her, concerned.

‘Yes. Yes, of course. I’ve brought a bottle of rosé. I didn’t know what meat we were having and…’ Emma galloped.

‘That’s perfect. Come on in,’ Mike said, opening the door wider for her.

The smell coming from the kitchen brought it all back. Her mother had cooked roast dinners every Sunday without fail before she was ill. But that wasn’t Marilyn’s fault, she had to remember that. Her mother was gone and Marilyn was back and she had made her dad happy…
would
make her dad happy.

Emma took a breath and headed into the kitchen. Marilyn was showing Dominic a car with a remote control.

‘Hello,’ Emma greeted, holding the wine bottle out.

‘Oh, hello, Emma! Gosh, haven’t you grown? What am I saying? You’re not a plant, are you?’ She laughed then and in one move, took the wine, put it down and caught Emma up in an embrace.

‘Marilyn got me this car,’ Dominic said, eyes shining.

‘That’s very nice of you. You shouldn’t have,’ Emma said as Marilyn broke the hug to attend to a saucepan on the hob.

‘Nonsense! What else am I going to spend my pension on? Well, obviously there’s bingo and darts but I fancied a change. Mike, take him out into the garden with it for ten minutes,’ Marilyn instructed.

‘Come on, Dom. I’ll set up a ramp, I’ve got some spare wood in the shed,’ Mike said, leading the way out of the room.

And then there were two. Just her and Marilyn, stood in front of her mother’s cooker.

‘Dominic’s the spitting image of you, you know,’ Marilyn remarked, looking out into the garden through the window.

‘You think so?’ Emma responded.

‘Oh yes, definitely. So, how have you been? What’s been going on? It’s been so long,’ Marilyn chattered on.

Yes, it had been a long time. But had it been long enough? She’d been jealous all those years ago. Jealous of this woman who made her dad happy, because they had got involved so shortly after her mother had died. She’d needed her dad. She’d needed him more than ever after Dominic came along. She couldn’t have someone else there, a stranger, someone who didn’t belong. And that’s what she’d told her that day.
You don’t belong here. I don’t want you. My dad doesn’t want you. You’re an interfering bitch who will never take my mother’s place.

She swallowed, tears brimming at the bottom of her eyes. The words were ringing in her ears and she knew Marilyn wouldn’t have forgotten them. She had to break the ice somehow. She had to let her know that it was alright now. Did she think it was alright now? Was that what she wanted to say?

‘Are you alright? D’you want to sit down?’ Marilyn asked, reaching out and taking Emma’s arm.

‘I’m so sorry, Marilyn. For all the things I said back then…for all the scowling and the tantrums and everything I did to split you and my dad up.’

The tears flooded in and before she knew it she was in Marilyn’s arms again, her head resting against the perfume-infused cardigan she was wearing.

‘Sshh, it’s alright. Don’t you think on it another minute. You was grieving. Your dad was grieving. I knew that. I told him it was too soon for us to be anything more than friends, but it just happened. Then I saw how upset it was making you and I had the chance to live somewhere exciting and I just took it. It was best for everyone. You had enough on your plate with a new baby. And what a fantastic job you’ve done with the lad,’ Marilyn said.

The woman was talking softly in her ear and brushing her hair with her plump fingers and Emma just wanted to hold onto that feeling of security. How could she have felt threatened by this well-meaning, soft-hearted woman?

‘I split up with Chris,’ she blurted out.

‘Oh, darlin’, no wonder you brought wine. Dinner will be another half hour. Let’s get us some glasses and you can tell me all about it.’

Emma wiped her eyes with her fingers. She didn’t even know where to begin.