Page 26 of Broken Country

“I hope you’re going to cope with him leaving you.”

“It’s only one term and then he’ll be back.”

She laughs. “You think it’s going to last that long?”

I’m so shocked by her unkindness I cannot find anything to say.

“I’m fond of you, Beth, and I hope you haven’t thrown everything away on a summer fling. You’ve let my son take advantage of you rather, haven’t you?”

I feel my face flush with anger. Day in, day out, men are admired for their sexual prowess, for the “conquests” notched upon their bedposts. Whereas women, who dare to do the same, are derided, and, most often, it is other women dishing out the derision.

Didn’t Tessa hear what Gabriel’s novel was about? His attempt to expose double standards so ingrained nobody ever questions them? Her son gets it, even if she doesn’t.

“Boys like Gabriel don’t tend to end up with girls like you. I don’t mean to be unkind. Quite the opposite. I’m just trying to warn you, so you don’t get hurt.”

For the rest of the evening, I cannot shake myself free ofTessa’s insinuations. I look at Gabriel and Louisa and see them as a perfect inverse of each other, one dark and tall, the other blond and slight. Handsome, clever, and well-bred, they are ideally matched, like a pair of Henry James protagonists destined to fall in love.

1968

Every day at Meadowlands the phone rings dead-on six o’clock. It’s my signal to go home, and let Leo speak to his mother, who is calling from California to say good night. She’s coming over for a visit soon and Leo talks of little else.

Leo races to pick up the phone. “Hello, Mama!”

He sounds so happy to hear her. I can’t imagine how it must tug at his mother’s heart, being on the other side of the Atlantic, hearing her child’s voice but not being able to see him. I wonder how she bears it.

Gabriel told me the only reason he has temporary custody of Leo is because his wife was feeling so guilty about falling in love with someone else, she gave Leo the choice: America with her, or England with his father? For now, he’s chosen England.

I am only half listening to Leo as he tells his mother about his day, a story he wrote during English, the boy in his class who was sent out for saying a rude word.

“Bollocks,” Leo says, just as Gabriel comes into the room.

“Charming,” says his father.

We both turn in alarm when Leo shouts: “Are you kidding me? You’re not coming?”

He’s silent for a few seconds, listening, and although his body is turned away from us, I read his despair in every curve.

“That’s not a reason, that’s an excuse, you just don’t want to come,” he yells, dropping the phone and running from the kitchen.

Gabriel starts berating his ex—“For God’s sake, do you think you might have told me first so I could have broken it to him gently? Can you really not come?”—when the front door slams.

I am torn, wondering if I should leave Leo alone with his anger or go after him. Sometimes I get the feeling Leo is hanging on by a thread and the only thing that has kept him going is the thought of his mother’s visit.

I find him sitting in front of the lake. He doesn’t look up as I approach.

“I’ll go away again if that’s what you want.”

Leo says nothing.

“I know how much you were looking forward to seeing her.”

“She only cares about the baby.”

“Why can’t she come?”

“Because of him, of course. He’s teething. Too miserable to fly. It’s just an excuse.”

“I suppose that might be hard. Babies aren’t very good at traveling.”

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