The Forever Home by Sue Watson
Chapter Sixteen
It was a couple of weeks after our first night together, and in spite of our age difference, I was growing more fond of Ryan. I enjoyed having him around; he was easy, and funny, and after all the drama with Mark, I just enjoyed being with someone who didn’t seem to put themselves first all the time. I wasn’t going to ignore Phoebe’s warnings, but I was going to trust my own instincts. I’d had to stay with Mark. I had little choice, there were the kids and the house, and of course his career to consider. But this was purely no strings, no commitment, and if I suddenly felt it wasn’t working, or Ryan wasn’t who I thought he was, then it was over. For me, this relationship was restorative, it wasn’t forever, we both had different paths to travel in the future. Meanwhile, Ryan was a lovely distraction while I recovered from what had happened before. My instinct told me he was a good person, and he genuinely liked me, and I was just happy to continue the casual, loving relationship for as long as it lasted.
It felt like my life was finally turning a corner; I’d been offered part-time work at the coastal interiors shop in Looe, and was due to start any day. And there’d been no more weird parcels or notes delivered, no more strange things happening in the house. Phoebe was happy at work, and Jake had met someone in Exeter and when I asked him about her, as usual he went all shy and said, ‘Yes, she’s lovely, but we’re just taking it one day at a time. Calm down, Mum, don’t get planning any weddings.’ Delighted, I demanded he bring her with him next time he was home. So life was good, for now – and I was pondering this one morning as I brewed coffee for me and Ryan, who was working outside.
After popping some bread in the toaster, I switched the TV on in the kitchen. As I went to pour coffee into two mugs, I suddenly became aware of a familiar voice. Mark? I looked up to see him on the TV screen, handsome, smiling, a touch of silver in his hair. I was surprised to see him, I didn’t know he was doing a TV interview, but then why would I? I hadn’t seen or heard from him for a couple of weeks.
I rolled my eyes, knowing he was telling one of his tall tales for a pretty presenter, and I turned up the volume to hear him.
‘Carly ended the marriage,’ he was saying. ‘She’d had quite enough of me, and I don’t blame her. She didn’t want to be tied to marriage, and all the baggage that came with that; she’d always been such a free spirit, wanted to discover herself, as women often do when the children have left the nest. She said being in the marriage had held her back, and I understand, she wanted to be free.’
I stood, teaspoon in my hand, listening to the story of my life according to Mark, who, as always, managed to sound self-deprecating and kind, while throwing me under the bus.
‘So, let me get this right – after twenty-five years of marriage and two children your wife just announced that you had to leave?’ The presenter, a pretty young thing with a shiny brown bob, was familiar. I’d seen her fawning over Mark at some of the few TV events I’d been invited to.
‘Ah, yes, and I can’t deny it was a surprise, but you see, Fiona, Carly was… is very independent, very confident. She never needed me, she was always so happy with her friends, her painting… She is a wonderful painter. She said I’d held her back and perhaps I had?’ he mused, holding the thought for a beat, while the camera held the shot, letting this sink in with the viewers. It made my hackles rise, but when the camera then moved on to the concerned face of his young lover, I started to seethe.
‘It’s been a difficult time for him,’ Erin sighed. ‘He had nowhere to go, and that was his home, he’d worked so hard on that house, it was part of him, you know? And for Carly to just throw him out like that…’
‘Just so sad.’ The presenter and Erin were both very young, both completely manipulated by Mark’s victim act, shaking their heads in unison at the fact a grown man didn’t have a bloody roof over his head, which of course was a lie, because he did. His refusal to take any responsibility for his life, his behaviour, was shocking. ‘So, through all the pain and heartache, you guys forged the most amazing friendship, which turned to love?’
Mark looked into Erin’s eyes, and the camera came in for a close-up. I wanted to puke. ‘Erin and I, we were just friends. When Carly ended our marriage, I was lonely. What can I tell you? Erin comforted me as any friend would; no one was more surprised than us when we fell in love.’
‘Er… correction, your wife was probably even more surprised, don’t ya think?’ I muttered, as I stirred the coffee. Was anybody watching this and wondering why he had twenty-four-year-old women as ‘friends’? But such was Mark’s charm, his ability to perform, no one ever saw through him, even me – until now.
‘And now the patter of tiny feet?’ Fiona made a stupid little gesture with her fingers, and the camera went back to the gruesome twosome now making a mockery of my life.
‘Yes, our little one,’ Mark said, and they all looked down at Erin’s swollen belly as she sat there, beaming. ‘And it’s amazing, Fiona, because I’ve known Erin’s family for years,’ he continued, trying to give a veil of respectability to his seedy little affair, ‘and there she was, all the time. Sometimes what you’re looking for is right there… Erin’s my life.’
‘And baby too,’ Erin corrected, sitting there, both hands on her tummy, like a bloody minor royal.
‘Of course.’ He beamed.
Fiona gave a sickly smile, then leaned in for what I guessed would be – for her – a hard question. ‘Can I ask… the baby’s due in a matter of days, will Carly play a part in the baby’s life? I know you guys have the most amazing relationship.’
This puzzled me. I walked closer to the screen.
‘I’m sure she will, won’t she, darling?’ Mark said, clutching Erin’s hand.
‘Carly’s been so kind,’ Erin oozed, ‘and I’m sure she’s watching this morning. Hey Carly!’ Now she gave an idiotic little wiggle of her fingers into the camera. I stuck two fingers up at the screen, and kept them there; it made me feel better. ‘In fact – and I know she’s sworn me to secrecy, but I want people to know how generous she is. Carly says it’s too big for her, and she’s too old to have any more kids, so rather than rattle around in there, she’s giving Mark his house back.’
I gasped. The presenter gasped. ‘You mean THE house, the Forever Home house?’
‘Liar,’ I hissed at the screen.
Erin nodded vigorously, while Mark looked like he’d just been shot. An excitable Fiona announced that there would be a break, followed by a ‘fascinating item on what your fridge says about you!’
I was so stunned, my mouth must still have been open when Ryan walked back in.
‘Have you gone to Brazil for that coffee?’ he was saying.
‘Sorry – I’m just – just SO bloody angry,’ I spat and, handing him a mug of steaming coffee, regaled to him what I’d just seen and heard.
‘That’s tough, you okay?’
‘No, I’m not okay. They’ve just told the whole of the UK that they’re moving into my house!’
He put his arm around me. ‘Hey, it’s not going to happen. It’s your house, they can’t just move in.’
‘No, but legally it’s half Mark’s, nothing’s been signed. And Erin is quite the little go-getter – and until the divorce paperwork’s completed, everything could be up for grabs.’
My phone started to ring. It was Phoebe, and while I took it Ryan headed back outside; he’d clearly given up on any promise of toast.
‘Hello, darling, did you see your dad on TV just now?’ I asked, trying not to sound upset, raging or murderous.
‘Did I see him? You bet I did. We have TVs on the wall in the office and someone said, “Is that your dad, Phoebe?” and, you know, I wished I could say “no”. I’m so ashamed, he’s making such an idiot of himself – does he really think people believe that shit about them being friends?’
‘I doubt it, but he does have a way with people; it’s got him this far, love.’
‘I could kill that bitch, sat there all smug and—’
‘Try not to let it get to you, sweetie, there’s nothing we can do to change things, we just have to get on with our own lives and be happy now.’
She was still furious when I put the phone down ten minutes later, and the more I thought about him, the more angry I became. How dare he embarrass my children with his sordid little TV interview, like the fact he’d got a twenty-four-year-old pregnant was something to celebrate. He’d replaced me, and now he was replacing his kids; we were all so disposable to him.
I stabbed Mark’s number into my phone, and waited for it to ring, but as always the answerphone kicked in. When we were together, he’d only take calls from people he knew and liked, and now it seemed I was just another annoyance. But I wasn’t going to let that stop me having my say.
‘How dare you… how dare you and your… bit on the side go on TV and tell lies about me,’ I hissed, aware that Ryan had come back in and was watching and listening, probably wondering what the hell he’d got himself into. ‘You sit there smugly, touching each other and cooing and… it’s disgusting! She was my best friend’s daughter, and you’re a predator. God knows how long you’ve been looking at her and imagining… That’s what the real story is, not this love’s young dream thing you’re trying to peddle. And who… who is SHE – some uppity little brat barely out of her teens – to say how I feel? I knew we were going to tell lies to cover up for your disgusting behaviour, but what hurts the most, Mark, is that you let her speak for me, for you. How could you – have you not taken enough from me? Do you now have to steal my story too?’ I switched my phone off, and then remembered I had something else to shout, so stabbed his number into my phone again.
‘Babe, leave it,’ Ryan was saying softly, but I shook my head and waited for the beep so I could leave another rant. He was standing close by, obviously concerned, but I didn’t care about anything or anyone else in that moment. I was blinded by rage – and fear of losing everything.
‘AND as for the house – my house,’ I started, as soon as the answerphone kicked in, ‘trust me, Mark, it will be a cold day in hell before she ever sets foot in here again. As for her plan to move in with her “little family” – it won’t be the patter of tiny feet she hears, it will be the sound of me chasing her with a bloody baseball bat!’