Page 98 of The Fall-Out

‘Thanks,’ I muttered. ‘You’re very kind. It’s nothing, really.’

But also everything.

‘The twins are all right?’ she asked gently.

‘They’re fine. At least, they are now. But my marriage has gone tits up and I don’t know how long they’re going to be fine for. And I haven’t got a job or any money or anywhere to live and it all just seems like…’ I trailed off, a tear splatting on to the dark, opaque surface of my coffee.

‘A lot? That’s because it is.’ Her blue eyes rested on me as she sipped her latte. ‘Look, feel free to tell me to butt out. But I’ve been there. I know what it’s like.’

‘You have? But I thought…’ My image of the wealthy banker husband, the perfect home, the life without financial or marital woes, materialised in my mind and just as quickly vanished.

‘I was happily married? I thought so too, until I wasn’t. That was when I’d just found out I was pregnant with Jesse. It was grim – the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. But I got through it, and you will, too.’

‘How, though? I haven’t had a job since before I had the twins. And Patch works stupid hours and has hobbies and stuff – would he have the kids on weekends and then I’d never see them? And how will I afford to even live? I just can’t see how it’s ever going to work.’

‘Now, listen to me,’ she said firmly. ‘It’s not easy, I know. But you won’t get anywhere by being defeatist about it. Your husband’s not an unreasonable person, is he?’

‘No,’ I admitted reluctantly, ‘he’s not. The reason we’re splitting up is – well, it’s complicated. But it’s not because he’s violent or anything like that.’

‘That’s a good start.’ The way she said it made me wonder if, perhaps, her own ex-husband had been something like that. ‘So, really, it’s just practicalities you need to focus on, isn’t it? Where you can afford to live, how you split childcare – all that stuff.’

‘I guess so. But all that – it feels kind of overwhelming right now.’

‘Of course it does. So we break it down. Can you spare ten minutes?’

I nodded, automatically taking my phone out of my bag. Then Imogen started talking and I listened and made notes. She talked about pensions and equity and divorce law and all the things I’d been too terrified to think about on my own, and sent me links to documents I could read later on.

Listening to her, I was reminded of Rowan, who’d separated from Paul shortly after their daughter was born, and managed to make it work. Rowan, too, would be able to help me navigate all this.

‘I think that’s probably enough for you to be getting on with for now,’ she said at last. ‘I’ll send you the details of the solicitor I used – she’s sharp and she’s kind. She’ll help you.’

‘But first, I need to help myself.’ I felt my spine straighten against the back of my chair. ‘I need to find a job.’

‘What is it you do?’

I laughed. ‘For the past four years, change nappies, clean up sick and do the nursery run. Before that, I was a legal secretary.’

‘Not my area, unfortunately. But I run a recruitment company and I’d be happy to help you polish your CV up a bit. It’s a candidates’ market out there; you’ll find something.’

‘I really hope you’re right.’ I drained my coffee, encouraged by her confidence.

‘Let me give you my card,’ she suggested, handing over a glossy scarlet rectangle. ‘And get in touch, okay? Otherwise I’ll chase you next time I see you at nursery.’

‘I will, promise. And thanks for the coffee and – you know. Everything.’

After that, I hurried to the supermarket and picked up some shopping for Bridget. She seemed more cheerful today and less confused, so I took the opportunity to ask her how her appointment with her GP had gone.

‘You can’t be too careful at my age, Naomi,’ she said. ‘So they’ve referred me for some tests at the hospital next week.’

‘You can’t be too careful at any age.’ I hugged her. ‘I’ll come and keep you company there, shall I?’

She accepted my offer gratefully and I left shortly afterwards. I didn’t tell her about Patch and me – it wasn’t my thing to tell. It was news for Patch to break to her alone or for him and I to reveal together. But I knew that whatever happened, she’d always be a presence in my life, my children’s grandmother, a woman I’d grown to love.

Back at home, instead of tackling the household chores, I opened my laptop and spent the day sitting at the kitchen table, getting up and making endless cups of tea whenever I began to feel overwhelmed by the task ahead of me.

All the work I’d already done on my CV and my LinkedIn network was going to stand me in good stead – there, at least, I was prepared. Summer was almost here and it wasn’t the ideal time to be job-hunting, but I was confident that by the time the children started school in September, I’d be employed, even if it wasn’t in my ideal job.

In a fit of optimism, I even googled law conversion courses: now might not be the perfect time to resurrect that old dream, but it wasn’t the right time to let it go, either.

---