Читать книгу Fallen Women - Sue Welfare - Страница 9

The rest of the weekend was horrible. Worse than horrible; it was so painful that it made every bone and muscle in Kate’s body hurt, even her teeth ached. Nothing felt or sounded right or real. It felt as if her life didn’t fit any more.

She didn’t see Chrissie and could barely bring herself to talk to Joe, who walked around the house like some wounded misunderstood much put upon hero. Kate had to keep reminding herself it was him not her who was in the wrong. Or was he?

What had made him sleep with Chrissie in the first place? Was it her fault? Had she driven him to it? And if it was, what had she done? What exactly had been the thing that had driven him into her arms when other men just sulked or skulked or fought back?

And when? And how often? It was torturous. With Joe camped out in the spare room Kate had plenty of time to think. She lay staring up at the ceiling in their bedroom replaying the last few years over and over again in her mind, trying to spot the moment, the instant when it had all gone wrong.

And then there was Chrissie. The one person who she trusted with her kids, her secrets; she daren’t go near those thoughts.

‘Please just tell me why you did it, wasn’t I good enough for you? What is it she does that I don’t? Tell me why?’ Kate demanded, when she could finally face speaking to Joe.

Joe stared up at her as if he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about and raised his hands in surrender. ‘I don’t know, Kate, I really don’t know. I’m sorry. We’ve been over and over and over this. I don’t know what else to say to you. I’m sorry.’ And that was it.

‘Look, I already told you it was going to be hard to reschedule this week.’

‘Yes, but you told me that on Saturday. I thought by now you would have worked something out. I’m about to go, Joe –’

It was first thing on Monday morning. Kate was on the point of leaving. She had her suitcase beside her on the doormat.

‘I’ve had other things on my mind,’ he said darkly.

‘And you think that I haven’t? What I am supposed to do? I told Mum I’d be there early.’

Joe sighed. ‘And I’ve rung my mum, the boys can go and stay with her after school until I get home tonight, but I’ve got to be in Fulham this morning,’ he glanced down at his watch. ‘I’m going to be late as it is.’

Kate was almost past caring; family life, Joe, even the boys felt like part of some strange abstraction, as if she was walking around inside a dream and when she woke up she wouldn’t be at all surprised to find that it – they – had all been a complex illusion.

‘You knew I’d got a meeting this morning,’ he whined.

Kate stared at him. Technically, he was right, she must have known at some time or other. It just seemed as if that was part of a different life.

‘Don’t look at me like that, Kate. All you have to do is sort the boys out and drop their stuff off at my mum’s. It’s not much to ask bearing in mind I’ve got them all week.’

He was unbelievable.

‘And if I’m too late back they can stay there the night, it’s the best I can do.’ His tone had a take it or leave it edge.

‘Why couldn’t you have told me this last night?’

He shrugged. It was all Kate could do to keep her hands off him.

Which meant in a nutshell, that she had to get the boys up and ferry their gear over to Joe’s mum and then drop them off at school before leaving for Norfolk. Or vice versa. Whichever way round she did it, given the state of the traffic at this time of the morning, it would probably mean another couple of hours on the road at least.

‘Do we have to go?’ said Danny, as Kate and the boys were loading up the car. ‘Why can’t me and Jake just stay here? I’ve already said I can look after him. I can get him to school. I can be responsible, you know. You just don’t trust me, do you? And Chrissie could keep an eye on us until Dad gets home. You know she wouldn’t mind. What do you think I’m going to do?’

‘How long have you got, Danny?’ Kate snapped, slamming the back door of her car shut. She paused, trying very hard not to let rip and take all the things that had been brewing out on him. ‘Actually, it’s not that I don’t trust you, Danny, it’s just that I need to know you’re safe. You two staying with Granny is one less thing for me to worry about.’ Kate couldn’t bring herself to even mention Chrissie.

Danny groaned but, undaunted and apparently unable to read the weather forecast etched on Kate’s features, pressed on, ‘But her flat’s totally and utterly gross. It’s damp, and everywhere smells of fags and frying and cats.’

Now that everything was packed into the car it looked like they were fleeing the country.

‘And she cooks some seriously weird stuff.’

‘And Dad never helps me with my homework and you won’t be there, and we’ve got a test on Wednesday,’ said Jake, desperate to add his two penneth, sounding mortally wounded, swinging his rollerblades in alongside the holdall in the boot.

‘Oh right, and you see that as a real problem, do you?’ Kate was getting close to the crumbly edge of self-control. ‘I seem to remember last term that I had to pay you to get your science project in on time. You’ll live.’

Everyone had been grumbling on and off since Kate got them up and any remaining shreds of good humour were wearing very thin. ‘It’s only till the end of the week.’

‘Oh my God,’ sighed Danny. ‘Five bloody days.’

‘Just shut up and get in the sodding car, will you?’ Kate slammed the boot shut. ‘It can’t be helped. It’s not as if I’m off on a luxury cruise; Grandma Maggie can’t cope on her own.’ Because unfortunately Grandma’s toy boy was away all week on business, said the treacherous little voice in her head.

The air in the car was thick with accusations both silent and otherwise. Every set of traffic lights was red, the stereo ate Jake’s favourite tape, Kate had to double-park outside the flat and Joe’s mum didn’t bother coming to the door even when they rang the bell. Kate sent Danny in; there was no way she could face Joe’s mum at this time of the morning. When he finally re-emerged, Danny said, ‘Dad told Gran to make sure you leave us enough for dinner money this week because he hasn’t got any cash and lost his card so can you get him fifty quid out before you go?’

They had to drive round to find a cash machine. And things got worse. There were road works and an accident, and whole stretches of motorway that were full of Sunday afternoon drivers who hadn’t been going fast enough to make it home before Monday morning.

By the time Kate got to Denham Market and drove up Church Hill she had a headache that filled her entire body, and her spine felt as if it had been plaited into a sheepshank and two half hitches. So, with a sense of relief, she swung into the drive without looking and nearly hit a black and silver jeep pulling out.

‘Shit. What the –’ Kate slammed on the anchors, spraying gravel and four-letter words as she whipped forward towards the windscreen, bringing the car to a dramatic halt. ‘Bastard, bastard, bastard,’ she spat, sitting very still, glaring through the windscreen at a set of chrome bull bars.

A tall, wiry, anxious-looking man clambered down from the driver’s seat and round to her side of the car. The 4x4 was black and shiny and fashionably chunky, the kind of thing you’d drive across the open tundra stopping to winch the occasional reindeer to safety from an ice floe.

‘You okay?’ he asked. He was tall and sounded genuinely concerned and looked as if he might be something medical, a country doctor maybe. He was wearing ginger-coloured cords and a matching open-necked blue and ginger checked shirt and as he spoke pushed a mop of greying red-blond hair back off his forehead.

Not that Kate really noticed. She just nodded, trying hard to disguise the fact that she’d been driving on autopilot.

‘Sorry about that, I couldn’t see through the wall,’ he said. Which was a generous and conciliatory thing to say under the circumstances. He said it with a grin not a growl which was nice, or would have been, except that Kate wasn’t feeling generous or conciliatory and most definitely not nice and could feel herself getting angry with him for being so bloody cheerful.

‘Not many people can,’ she snarled. ‘Are you looking for my mother?’

‘Is she small, grey, deaf, incontinent and in obvious distress?’

‘Not when I left her last week.’ A picture of Guy in his tight white underpants flashed briefly through her mind.

‘Then no, probably not. I’m Andrew Taylor, the local vet.’ He extended a hand.

Kate struggled with an inclination to decline the introduction but couldn’t quite bring herself to be that rude. His handshake was warm and businesslike. And then the grin widened out into something else. ‘Kate? It is, it’s Kate Sutherland, isn’t it?’

Kate looked more closely at him. ‘Do I know you?’ she said icily.

‘Yes, I think you probably do – Denham High? You’re a couple of years younger than me – Andy Taylor, I used to be in the drama club with you?’

Kate looked again, trying hard to hold on to her annoyance, while shuffling through the memories and there he was, sixteen with a mass of floppy hair and no shoulders to speak of, the grin hadn’t changed though. ‘Andy Taylor. God you’ve grown. I thought you were in – in –’ Kate fished around for the tail end of something she’d heard on the family grapevine. ‘Somewhere hot and foreign.’

‘Australia. Yeh, I was out there for eight years then came home to take over my dad’s practice. I’ve been back three years now.’

Trying to stay outraged and angry Kate didn’t ask him how he liked it or wait for him to ask how her life was going, instead she said, ‘And what are you doing here?’

‘Looking for the meaning of life and the heart of a good woman.’ It was corny and daft but at least he did have the decency to say it with a big grin.

Kate laughed aloud, aware of how bitter it sounded. ‘Then you’re most definitely in the wrong place, Mister,’ was what she wanted to say, but instead Kate raised her eyebrows and said, ‘Really?’ in what she hoped was a superior way.

His expression didn’t falter. ‘Actually I’m looking for a grey and white tabby called Tiddles and a woman called Mrs Hall, 84 Church Hill?’

‘Viv. Next door.’

‘Thanks.’ He smiled. ‘Home on a visit?’

‘My mum’s broken her ankle.’

‘Damn, sorry to hear that.’

Kate waved the words away. ‘She’ll be okay. I’ve come to give her a hand for a few days.’

‘Well, I hope she gets better soon. It was really nice to see you again. Have a good day. Maybe we’ll catch up again some time.’ He looked ruefully at the vehicles nose to nose on the gravel. ‘And mind how you go.’

It didn’t sound rude or churlish, which was annoying, and as Kate couldn’t think of anything smart to say, she nodded in acknowledgement, wound up her window and reversed out into the road. This time she looked both ways. Twice.

Andrew eased out and Kate drove back in and parked up under the laburnums. It was barely lunchtime and already she felt in need of two paracetamol, a warm bed and a good night’s sleep. Kate didn’t notice whether Andrew waved goodbye or looked back as she unfolded herself from the car, she was too busy swearing.

‘Hi Mum, it’s only me.’

Kate let herself in, dropped her bag in the hall and tried very hard to paint on a happy face. Maggie was reclining on the sofa in the sitting room, crutches propped up within easy reach. She was wearing a long cream silk shirt, a single flat leather sandal and a pair of baggy black tracksuit bottoms, one leg of which was cut off and rolled up in a rakish pirate fashion just above her cast. Kate sniffed; she suspected Guy had done it before he left. It looked like a Guy thing. The French windows were open onto the garden and Maggie was looking pale but nevertheless radiant and not in a deathbed, verge-of-something-terminal way.

She smiled and put down her book. ‘Hi love, how was the drive?’

Kate grimaced and stretched, trying hard to ease the nasty kinks out of her soul as she bent down to kiss her hello. ‘Ask me something else.’

Maggie laughed. It was a good wholesome laugh, a laugh that made Kate feel quite envious.

‘How’s Joe?’

Bad choice.