Page 95 of The Fall-Out

Unexpectedly, the image of Andy’s face came into my mind – not as he’d been when I first met him, the party boy whose yearning for fun and freedom had trapped him in the darkest of places, but the man he’d become before his relapse, strong and serene.

You’ve got this, Naomi, I imagined him saying. One day at a time, as they never stop fucking telling us in the programme.

Andy was gone. He’d died because he’d let his past reclaim him. I wasn’t going to allow that to happen to me.

‘You look glum as hell, babe,’ Patch said. ‘What’s up?’

‘I was just thinking about Andy.’

‘Andy? Poor sod. I still miss him, you know. We had crazy times.’

‘I know. It’s like he packed loads of lives into just one, like a cat or something.’

Patch laughed. ‘You say the daftest things sometimes, Nome.’

I laughed with him, but my laughter soon died down. Remembering Andy had made me even more conscious of what I’d brought my husband here to do – choosing this place, with its memories of the past and its promise of the future lying before us, hazy and glimmering in the sunshine.

‘It’s made me think, though. Really, you only get one life. When you make mistakes, like Andy did, you don’t get to unmake them. You can only live with them, or change what you do next.’

‘That’s all very profound, Nome. Not sure I’m up for such deep thinking on a Saturday afternoon. How about we head back and have a pint before we collect the kids?’

I remembered Zara’s words – subtle as a brick. It was true – for all his amiability, I realised, I’d never really been able to talk to Patch about the things that mattered most.

Now, I was going to have to.

‘We can have a drink later, maybe,’ I said, thinking that what I was going to need most in the world before this day was out was an enormous gin, tonic optional. ‘First, there’s something I need to talk to you about, and I don’t want to do it in a pub with loads of people listening.’

‘Look, is this about you going back to work? I want to support you, Nome. Maybe in a couple of years…’

‘It is, and it isn’t. That’s part of it. But, Patch…’

I stopped. Now’s your last chance, Naomi. You can not say it – not now, or even not ever. You can keep what you’ve got in the present and make the most of it.

‘What is it, babe?’ He reached over and took my hand. ‘If something’s bothering you, you can tell me, you know.’

His kindness was like a knife in my heart. What if I never find someone this nice again?

I forced air into my lungs past the lump in my throat. ‘I want to split up.’

‘You want what? Hold on, run that past me again.’

‘I want to end our marriage. I’ve been thinking and thinking about it. I don’t like what my life’s become and I can’t see another way to change it.’

‘This is about Zara, isn’t it? A couple of sympathy shags, years and years ago, and you’re jacking in our marriage and breaking up the kids’ home over it? Have you lost your mind?’

Already, I could feel my calm deserting me. ‘It wasn’t just a couple, years and years ago. It was a couple more, months after that. After Abbie’s wedding.’

‘Who the fuck told you that?’ His face was blank with shock, as if I’d slapped him.

‘Zara did.’

‘Zara’s a bullshitter.’

‘Yes, she is. But I think she was telling the truth about that.’

‘Right. So you’d rather believe that crazy woman over your own husband? She always had it in for you, you know. She never wanted us to be together even though she was fucking other men while she was seeing me.’

His words shocked me – the casual admission of the secret I thought I’d kept to myself all these years. ‘You knew about that?’

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