Page 35 of For One Moment With You
‘That’s a really good idea.’ I was aware how strange it would feel to them; grateful neither of them would be there alone. ‘I’ve already packed some things and I’ve left them at Elena’s. Important things, to do with you and Robbie growing up, mostly.’ I paused, imagining Alex feeling like I was, about the family home that had always been there, that suddenly wasn’t going be. I swallowed the lump in my throat. ‘You do know you can come back any time,’ I said again. ‘Until it’s sold? And I will be back. I’m just not sure when, yet.’
‘Will you be OK? On your own? Only you’ve never…’ He tailed it off.
‘Never been away on my own? No,’ I said gently. ‘I haven’t. I think maybe that’s why I have to do this.’
* * *
On my way to see my dad, I gave myself a talking-to.He won’t understand. But that isn’t your fault. It’s the way he is; the way he always has been. He’s never going to change.
‘San Jose?’ He frowned. ‘That’s a long way.’ His frown deepened. ‘Does Gareth know?’
‘It’s in California,’ I said. ‘And Gareth doesn’t know. It has absolutely nothing to do with him. Dad, just so you know, he and I are not on speaking terms.’ When my dad didn’t say anything, I went on. ‘You seem to think I’ve done something wrong. But I haven’t, and it wasn’t me who wanted anything to change. It was Gareth.’
‘He must have had a reason,’ my father muttered.
This time, I gasped out loud; my dad’s bizarre solidarity with my cheating soon-to-be ex-husband utterly flabbergasting me. ‘His reason is he’s got his girlfriend pregnant.’ I shook my head. ‘It’s me you should be supporting, Dad. Not Gareth.’ Then I had my most brilliant idea. ‘I know since Mum died, you’ve come to rely on me. But I’m sure Gareth will still help you out from time to time. You have his mobile number, don’t you? You two have always got on so well.’ I paused. ‘And there’s always Rick.’
My father made a tutting sound. ‘Drives me mad, Rick does. Comes here and only talks about himself.’
‘He’s just lost his wife,’ I reminded my father. When it wasn’t so long ago my mother died, his lack of empathy astonished me. ‘You, of all people, should understand.’
* * *
It was unnerving how little time it took to unravel a life. Even one that had been built up over more than twenty years. By the time I went to bed that night, the fridge and freezer were clean and empty; old clothes and bedlinen had been piled into bags labelled either ‘tip’ or ‘charity shop’. I’d also left detailed instructions for Gareth, about the boys coming to sort through their stuff; about recycling as much as he could of what was left in the house. I finished it off with,I’ve taken the contents of our joint account.It amounted to a few thousand pounds, which he wouldn’t like, but along with the money my mother had left me, it would keep me going until the house was sold.
I went from room to room, lingering in the doorways, replaying scenes from the past. Ethereal, wraith-like memories of the boys as kids, of family Christmases; for a moment my doubts returning as I considered that this was all a misunderstanding. That Gareth would come back. That we could get over this.
But my heart had the answer. There was nowe. Nous. The house would be sold, a divorce would follow, leaving Alex and Robbie the only links that would bind us.
It hit me hardest when I opened the sitting room door. Instead of seeing an empty space, I conjured the image of a tall Christmas tree laden with decorations, a log fire burning in the fireplace, the boys’ stockings hung as they had been on twenty Christmas Eves. I wiped away the tear that rolled down my face.You’re being ridiculous, Tilly,I told myself.A sofa is just a sofa. The dining table we’ve sat around for birthdays and Christmases over the years, it’s just a piece of polished wood. You never even liked it that much.
But the wrench I felt as I thought of never doing any of it again was visceral.
Later that night, I was emotionally and physically drained as I lay in the bed Gareth and I had shared; for a whole host of different reasons, unable to sleep. It seemed no time ago that my life was predictable, that I was a wife and mother, someone who had a job, who whiled away time rereading sympathy cards people sent after Lizzie died – albeit too much time, I can see that now; that since then, I’d left my job and Gareth had moved out.
I visualised the threads I’d held onto all those years, that had drifted away, one by one, until I was forced to admit that I was redundant in every sense of the word.
It wasn’t a comfortable feeling; being needed had defined my life. It was who I was and how I saw myself. But slowly it came to me that there was another way of looking at this – at least, I knew that’s what Tallulah would have said. And as I eventually drifted off to sleep, I realised what it meant: that for the first time in decades, I was going to be free.
10
What Should Have Been the Happiest Day of My Life
I loveSliding Doors– it’s one of my favourite movies. The idea that one person’s life could play out in two different directions has always made me wonder:what if. What if I’d made different choices, if I’d moved to live somewhere else; chosen to be with someone else? Armed with the hindsight that only time can bring, hasn’t made me any better prepared for watching a younger version of myself. Instead, it only leaves me questioning why I couldn’t understand myself better and kind of fast-tracked my life path; saved myself a whole load of pain.
But maybe I wasn’t meant to. I’m starting to get a sense that the things that are playing out in my life, in whatever form that takes, are all part of me learning to find my way.
And in some way, too, maybe that includes now, in this strange place I find myself, unconscious, caught between the past and what is yet to be.
* * *
So it was that in the days leading up to my wedding, as I weighed up my relationship with Gareth, I’d told myself the initial chemistry between us was slow burning into something more lasting. There was the way we’d fitted our lives together, the way our families, our friends, had embraced us as a couple.
It was what I wanted to believe. But then I thought about Lizzie’s doubts about us. How I hadn’t known, suddenly wondering if my mother had doubts about us, too. Not that it should matter. Only two people mattered in this whole shebang that was unfolding around us – and they were me and Gareth.
Keeping myself busy, I stayed away from places I might bump into Adam, knowing it wouldn’t have helped. Then on Thursday afternoon, I drove over to see my parents. When I got there, I found my mother in the garden.
‘Tilly!’ She looked pleased. ‘This is a nice surprise. Just let me finish weeding this bit, and I’ll put the kettle on.’
