The Forever Home by Sue Watson

Chapter Twenty-One

The following day, I called Jake, who was finally admitting that he was finding it hard to come to terms with the fallen hero that was his father. My son felt things deeply, but bottled them all up, until they eventually came tumbling out.

‘I still can’t get my head round it even now, Mum. Why would he leave you for her? She’s just a spoilt pig.’

Jake, like many kids, had a rather idealised view of his parents’ marriage, and I wasn’t going to disillusion him. Our children had happy childhoods, and to tell them what was really going on in the background – while they ate picnics on the beach and danced in the waves – would have been cruel.

‘People just grow apart,’ I said. ‘And I think he has this weird belief that she’ll make him young again.’

‘But you’re all alone there, and after all that you’ve done for him, now he’s about to come into the big time, he’s dropped you.’

‘I don’t think it was quite like that, and the plan is, he’ll give me the money for the US programme, and I can keep the house,’ I tried to reassure him. I hadn’t told him about the money Mark had taken from our joint savings; it would have upset him too much.

‘But it’s our house, of course we should keep it. He can’t just sod off to America with that bitch and leave you,’ he spat. Jake was like me, he put up with things until he couldn’t any more, and then he blew.

‘It will all be sorted in the divorce, Jake. Trust me, everything will be fine. And if I do have to sell the house, I’ll get another one around here.’

‘There’s nowhere like our house though, is there?’

‘No,’ I admitted, ‘there isn’t.’

We continued to talk, and it turned out his sadness and anger might also be stemming from something else. Apparently things hadn’t worked out with his girlfriend, but he didn’t want to talk about it, so I didn’t ask too many questions.

‘I’m sorry, love, some things just aren’t meant to be,’ I sighed.

‘I was punching above my weight,’ he murmured.

‘I’m sure you weren’t, darling. Never forget, you’re the handsomest prince in Christendom,’ I teased. It was a phrase from a book I used to read to him when he was little. ‘That used to make you laugh,’ I said, trying to cheer him up.

‘Yeah, like when I was five!’ he said, though I hoped he was smiling. ‘But she doesn’t think I’m the handsomest,’ he sighed, ‘she’s found someone even more handsome.’

‘Impossible,’ I replied.

‘She says she loves him.’

‘Oh darling, I’m sorry, but if she didn’t appreciate how wonderful you are, she just wasn’t right for you.’

‘Yeah, yeah. I have to go, Mum, I’ve got a lecture,’ he sighed, and we said our goodbyes.

My heart hurt for him. Poor Jake, he was so young, and I knew one day he’d find the girl for him, but right now he couldn’t see that. I wished he was here at home with me so I could comfort him.

I felt sadness in the pit of my stomach. I wanted both of them to be able to come home whenever they wanted to, and when they both left, it never occurred to me that one day we might not have the house. Then I thought about the alternative, Erin and Mark living here, looking at the sea through my windows, planting their bulbs in my garden, inviting my kids to sleep in their old bedrooms. The Andersons together again – all except one – me.

‘Ahh that’s shit for Jakey, I didn’t know it was over,’ Phoebe said, when I called her straight after I’d called Jake. ‘He seemed really smitten with this one,’ she sighed, hurting for him as much as me.

‘He never put pictures on his social media, did he?’ I asked. I had an account, but never used it, and relied on my kids to tell me if there was anything I should know.

‘No, I asked him about that, but she didn’t like her photos being online,’ she said, but was soon distracted from her brother’s pain by her favourite subject. ‘Urgh. Erin. That smug little prig. I was thinking about it and she must have been eyeing Dad every time she came over. And then she just turned up about two years ago. I hadn’t seen her since we were at secondary school, but just before I went to uni, she turned up on our doorstep, you must remember. She said she missed us having such a great laugh together so thought she’d come over.’

‘Yes, I remember, but what I don’t remember is Erin ever having “a great laugh” about anything.’

Phoebe giggled. ‘Nor me. But I bloody bought it, and let her back in, but all she wanted to do was wave her tits in Dad’s face.’

‘Oh Phoebe, I’m sure it wasn’t quite like that,’ I offered, knowing it probably was.

‘She used to turn up in tight shorts and low-cut tops in the middle of bloody winter,’ Phoebe almost shouted down the phone.

I had to smile at this. I’d also thought Erin’s clothes inappropriate for the weather. I once asked her if she was cold, and would she like to borrow a jumper; she refused. I thought it was a youth thing – but actually it was as old as the hills. And like the lech he was, Mark had fallen for it, hook, line and sinker. I wondered if that was when the seed was planted? Perhaps not the affair, but just a frisson between them.

‘Mum, can I come home for supper soon? Stay with you for the night?’ Phoebe asked.

‘Yes, of course,’ I said, delighted. ‘When? Tonight?’

‘No – I can’t tonight, I wouldn’t get there before midnight now! But can I come down next week? I just think we need to spend some time together. I’ll arrange to have the day off work so I can be with you by about mid-afternoon – we can catch up, and eat, and drink.’

‘That would be lovely, I’ll make one of your favourites,’ I said, my mind already inside a cookbook.

I came off the phone feeling happier, a visit from my daughter was just what I needed, but then I remembered Ryan. And I wasn’t sure when he was moving in. We hadn’t really discussed any details or ground rules, like where he’d sleep and what he’d do when one or both of the kids came over. So I wandered out into the back garden to ask if it was possible for him to stay somewhere else when Phoebe or Jake came home.

I opened the glass doors to go into the garden, but before I stepped out, I heard his voice, and there was something about the tone that told me this wasn’t a work call. And then he said her name.

‘Erin, just grow up, you really think it was okay? That was personal stuff between two people… How could you?’

I went to put my foot on the steps into the garden, which caused a stone to land on the ground, and make a noise. Ryan stopped talking. I held my breath; if he saw me it would be quite obvious I was trying to listen in. I waited in the silence for him to resume his conversation. But then I heard him say, ‘I have to go, Carly’s here,’ and with that he clicked off the phone.

What the hell? I stood for a few minutes. He was whistling along; he knew I was there, but was pretending to be hard at work. How did I deal with this? Should I ask him directly why he was talking to her? But I didn’t want him to think I was listening in on his phone calls, nor did I want him to think I was being jealous or weird.

Just then my phone pinged, alerting me to a text. It made me jump and at the sound Ryan popped his head round the side of the house.

‘There you are, thought I heard you. Come and take a look at the windows,’ he said proudly. He seemed to think I’d be more interested in this than the fact he’d just been on the phone with my husband’s girlfriend.

‘Yeah, great,’ I murmured, hardly able to engage with what he was saying, still going over his conversation in my head. Why wasn’t he telling me he’d just spoken to Erin? The way he was talking to her sounded casual, like he knew her; there was an intimacy in his tone, or was it my imagination?

As he continued to chat to me about the walls and the weather, I tried to convince myself this was something that could be explained. We lived in a small village, they could easily just be acquaintances and he’d never mentioned it. Rubbish, we’d talked about Erin, about his mum being her childminder, and he’d never said he was in touch with her now. From what he’d told me about her when she was younger, he didn’t even seem to like her – so why were they chatting on the phone?

And then there was the comment about ‘personal stuff between two people’ – what the hell was that about? The worm of worry that had been slithering around my stomach now wrapped itself firmly around my intestines. Ryan had been my sanity through all this, and I didn’t want to even contemplate the prospect that he wasn’t who I thought he was, a nice, easy-going guy with no complications. Perhaps Phoebe was right after all.

My phone pinged again, a reminder that a text message was waiting. I looked down; it was from Phoebe.

Trying to get some time off work so I can come and see you. Will let you know! Love you P xxxx

It was so preferable to another piece of bad news or weirdness to add to the ever-growing list. I was deeply comforted to know my kids would always be there for me, and I texted her some kisses.

‘Was that your friend just then?’ I asked Ryan, with deliberate vagueness. He’d gone back round the house to continue what he was doing. I couldn’t see his face.

‘Who?’ His voice drifted around the corner.

‘Just then, on the phone? I heard you talking. You said you had a friend who could come and look at the wall, see if we need a JCB?’

There was a few seconds’ silence, and I knew he was going to lie to me. After twenty-five years with the master, I was an expert.

‘No… it wasn’t him… it was just another mate, called for a chat.’ Then he popped his head round the side of the house. ‘Try not to worry too much about the house, we just need to keep an eye on everything.’

‘Yeah, we do.’

Silence.

‘Erm… I’m going to work in a bit,’ I said.

‘Oh yeah, you start your new job today. Good luck.’

‘Thanks, I’m a bit nervous. Are you around for dinner later?’ I asked.

‘No, no, I won’t be. I can’t stay over tonight.’

‘Oh.’ I was disappointed; we could have opened a bottle of wine and I could have asked him about the phone call again.

‘Yeah, got to pack my stuff. No point waiting, I might as well move in tomorrow, if that’s okay?’

‘Yeah, sure.’ I hesitated, really unsure about this whole moving in thing, but I couldn’t back out now. ‘The spare room is total chaos, and the back bedroom is filled with Mark’s stuff he’s yet to collect. So I thought you could have Jake’s room for now, till I’ve cleared it out? I’ll put some fresh bedding on and you can put your stuff in there.’

He looked surprised. ‘Won’t I be… with you?’

This was awkward. Hearing him on the phone had made me wary, and besides, I didn’t want him to move in like that. As much as I loved spending time with him, it was far too early. I took a breath. ‘I don’t know, Ryan, this feels a bit different than when you just stayed over – and officially you’re the lodger – so really you should have your own room.’

‘Oh – I see. Fair enough.’ He seemed embarrassed, and I felt bad, but he was being a little presumptuous.

I turned to go inside, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. Was I overreacting to an overheard phone call? I had to learn to trust again, and there was nothing wrong with Ryan being around the place; we were just enjoying each other’s company. He was kind and had really been there for me recently.

I put it to the back of my mind and started to get ready for work. Today was important for me. I hadn’t ever really had a proper job as such, since I’d married Mark and become a mother and later been taken onto The Andersons’ role, and I wanted to prove to myself – and the village – that I could do this. I tied my hair up loosely, and threw on a white linen top and jeans, which I dressed up with a necklace of glass beads.

As I headed down the stairs, Ryan was standing at the bottom, smiling. ‘I sometimes look at you and feel like I did when I was sixteen,’ he sighed.

When I got to the bottom, I kissed him, and said, ‘Thanks, but you really don’t have to flatter me, Ryan, we’ve already agreed you can stay.’

He looked hurt, but I wasn’t pandering to him, or letting him think he could win me over with charm – I’d been there before.

Now, in the hallway, I slipped my feet into sandals, picked up my handbag and headed for the door.

He stood there, his arms hanging by his sides. ‘Carly, before you go—’

‘Yes?’ I turned around. I didn’t want to be late on my first day. Given my current financial situation, I couldn’t afford to get on the wrong side of my new boss.

Ryan looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m sorry, I think I might have come over as a bit pushy – assuming I’d be in your bedroom… but—’

‘You weren’t being pushy – why wouldn’t you think that? I haven’t exactly kicked you out of bed,’ I said. ‘I think we just perhaps see things differently. I think for now it would be best if we just keep this casual?’

He didn’t say anything at first; he looked confused, hurt. ‘Yeah, yeah, of course, if that’s what you want,’ he mumbled, already heading off back down the hall.

I left the house, slightly troubled. I wanted to believe Ryan, to trust him, but his words on the phone to Erin kept coming back to me. Were they just friends… or was there more to it?