Page 55 of A Midlife Marriage

‘Me too. I mean, I wish I had come to your mother’s.’

Kay smiled. ‘She always liked you. Well, not so much after, you know.’

‘Of course.’ And now Martin smiled. ‘I didn’t like myself as much after.’

Neither of them spoke. The hum of the fridge behind her was low, the light bright, and now that he was here, exactly where she had invited him to be, she didn’t know what she was feeling. She had, long ago, spent time and mental effort constructing scenarios exactly like this. Scenes in which they were alone again, in which he would apologise, beg her forgiveness, declare his love, and everything would go back to what it once had been. It all seemed so childish now. As far-fetched as a fairy-tale. They could never go back.What it was,was scorched earth. She turned away from him and stood staring at her fridge. ‘It’s sad,isn’t it?’ she said. ‘It was only us that got divorced, but I don’t think I ever saw your dad again.’

Martin nodded. ‘It is sad, yes.’

‘I hope you’re hungry,’ she said, her voice bright as she pulled out a macaroni cheese.

‘I’m hungry.’

Kay nodded. ‘Get some plates then,’ she said, because what else was there to say?

‘So.’Martin scraped together a last forkful of food. ‘Tell me about this girlfriend then. Emmylou?’

‘It’s either Emmylou or Emmeline. I’m honestly not sure.’ Kay put her knife and fork down. ‘I’ve met her for five minutes and that was by accident. Alex is avoiding introducing her to me. I think he’s embarrassed about the whole girlfriend thing.’

Martin laughed. ‘You think it’s the girlfriend?’

‘You don’t?

‘Well …’ He paused. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way.’

‘But?’

‘But …’ And again, he hesitated. ‘You have always been very protective of him.’

‘Have I?’ Under the table Kay’s hands curled to fists. His words felt like a rebuke. A rebuke from a man who had walked away. ‘Someone,’ she said, tightly, ‘had to stay.’

‘Kay ––’

No.She raised her hand, shook her head.No, no, no.She was thinking about the difficult months before she had made the decision to change Alex’s school; how his face had crumpled, when she had told him. Where was Martin then? If she remembered correctly, he would have been in North London, with woman he had left them for. And if he hadn’t used such a tentative tone of voice, if he hadn’t paused for so longbeforehand … But how the hell was she supposed to take it? She stood up, her chair scraping.

Martin stood too. ‘Where are you going?’

Where was she going? She didn’t know. Out the door? Up the street? This was her kitchen, and he’d said he just wanted to talk and already it had come to this. She shouldn’t have invited him back. She should have just finished her drink and left him at the pub. She crossed to the bench by the back door and got no further. It didn’t matter where she went. The sting of truth in his words would follow wherever she went. She had always been protective of Alex. Very protective. Maybe too protective. But no-one had had told her. No-one had sat her down and had a quiet word:he’s twenty-four now,he’s going to be all right, you can let go a little, Kay, breathe again.Martin was right, and she knew it. The boy who wouldn’t go to sleep without calling out a last ‘I love you’, the child who would plead with her to sit with him while he took an hour to eat two fishfingers was embarrassed - but not about having a girlfriend. He was embarrassed about having a mother. A mother like her.

‘Do you want some more,’ she said, one hand on the bench, nodding grimly at Martin’s empty plate.

‘Kay.’

Without speaking, she took his plate and dolloped on another slice of macaroni.

‘You have every right …’

‘Just eat,’ she said and put the plate in front of him.

‘OK.’ And slowly Martin sat down again, picked up his knife and fork, and began eating.

Now Kay sat. She did have every right, of course she did, and she could spend the rest of the evening listing those rights.I stayed; you left. I was true, you cheated. I hung on, you gave up.But what was the point in waving all those angry placards now? They sounded archaic; they belonged to anothertime and another place. She put her hands together under her chin and turned to look out of the window. The evening was warm and sunny, and as she looked it felt to Kay that she was living a moment she had always been destined to live. Martin, here in her kitchen, saying things that needed to be said, and that perhaps only he could say. Things so very different from all those imagined scenarios of yesterday. ‘I don’t want to keep looking back,’ she said, and her words sounded like the echo of something.

‘In anger?’ Martin’s smile was small.

That’s why the phrase was familiar. Lyrics to a song from their youth. Kay smiled.

‘I don’t want to either,’ he said.

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