her best to keep her mind away from Richard, Betty said, ‘Tell me about this girl.’
‘She’s a cracker, Mum. Her name is Ulrika and she’s from Sweden.’
‘Goodness, how did you meet her?’
‘My boss invited me round to dinner. She’s their au pair.’
‘How long have you been seeing her?’ asked Anne.
‘What’s this, twenty questions? Still, if you must know, I’ve been seeing her for two months.’
Anne laughed. ‘Two months – and you call it serious?’
‘It is for me.’
John was so like his father in looks that Betty gulped. They were both tall, both dark and handsome. Their characters were similar, too, both of them charmers. ‘You may be serious about this girl, but don’t rush things. Make sure that she really is the one before you settle down.’
‘Don’t worry about me, I know what I’m doing,’ he said, but then with a glance at his watch added, ‘Sorry, but I’ve got to go.’
‘John, you’ve only just got here.’
‘I’m off too, Mum,’ Anne said.
‘I hardly see the pair of you,’ Betty protested, ‘yet when you do stir yourselves to visit me, you only stay for five minutes.’
‘Don’t exaggerate, we’ve been here for longer than that,’ Anne protested.
Betty knew it was useless to argue. Like his sister, John still lived in Farnham, his job hectic and, with a wide circle of friends, his social life was full. With a sad sigh, she kissed them both on the cheek before saying goodbye. ‘John, don’t leave it so long next time. I really would like to see more of you. If you really are serious about this girl, perhaps you could bring her with you next time?’
‘Yes, all right, Mum,’ he called before he hurried downstairs, Anne close behind.
‘Bye, Mum,’ she too called.
Sadly Betty closed the door and then hurried to the window to watch them climb into their cars, both waving to each other before driving off. Anne might call again in a few weeks, but despite John’s assurance, she doubted her son would do the same. She knew they had their own lives, but the room now felt empty without them. She felt empty, unlike Mel who was now having Richard’s baby.
Betty’s lower lip trembled. Yes, she still loved Richard, but he’d made a fool of her. She was miserable, whereas he was happy, and instead of the news helping her to move forward she felt a surge of bitterness – one that made her wish she could wipe the smile off his face.
At one o’clock, Val went upstairs to see Betty, but her smile dropped when she saw her friend’s face. ‘You look like you’ve been crying. What’s the matter?’
‘My son and daughter have been to see me, and
… and …’
‘Oh dear, did they bring bad news?’
‘Not according to my daughter, but it’s knocked me for six. They’re going to have a baby.’
‘You’re upset because your daughter’s pregnant?’ ‘No, not my daughter. It’s Mel, my ex-husband’s wife. She’s the one who’s having a baby.’
Val didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t unusual for a second marriage to result in more children, but she didn’t feel it would help to point this out to Betty. It was obvious that the ex-husband had moved forward, yet for Betty the wounds were still painful. ‘Come and sit down,’ she urged, ‘and I’ll make us both a cup of tea.’
‘Thanks, Val.’
‘Here, drink up,’ Val said when she returned to see that Betty was still distressed, her hands wringing in her lap.
Betty took a sip of tea, but when she then spoke, her voice rang with bitterness. ‘It just isn’t fair. Richard is over the moon and, from what my daughter said, he’s fussing over Mel like she’s a china doll, even getting her a cleaner. He can afford it now, of course, whereas when I was married to him I had to work like a slave without an ounce of help.’
Val knew this was the ideal opportunity to probe, so said gently, ‘How come he’s comfortably off whilst you have to struggle?’
‘I … I can’t tell you. You’ll think I’m mad.’
‘I doubt it. Working for a solicitor I’ve seen and heard some terrible things and you’d be surprised how many women come out of a divorce with far less than they’re entitled to.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’
‘God, I thought it was only me. When I was married to Richard, he handled all our finances and I thought myself lucky that I had a husband who took care of everything whilst I was worry-free. I was living in my perfect little world, with my perfect marriage but, as I told you before, all that fell apart when Richard told me that there was someone else.’
‘Yes, and it must have been a terrible shock.’
‘It was, and when Richard told me about Mel, I didn’t know what to do. I loved him so much and hoped it was just a passing fancy. I was wrong though, because shortly after he asked for a divorce. I couldn’t believe it, wouldn’t believe it. I begged, cried, pleaded with him not to leave me, but he was implacable. For nearly a year, I wouldn’t accept it, refused to talk about it, but then, just when I thought that things couldn’t get any worse, he … he moved his girlfriend in.’
‘What! Into your home?’
‘Yes, and Mel was so brazen, cuddling up to Richard in front of me.’
Val found it incredible, her voice high as she said, ‘My God, what sort of woman would do that?’
Betty lowered her head. ‘I don’t know, but worse, I – I heard them having sex every night. In the mornings, Mel couldn’t look me in the eye, but Richard didn’t care. He was so cruel, fawning over Mel, showing me how triumphant he was about their sex life. It became unbearable to see them together, to hear them, and I felt an intruder in my own home.’
Val was secretly pleased that Betty now felt confident enough to talk to her about such a sensitive subject. ‘What did you do?’
‘In the end I couldn’t stand it any more, and when Richard offered to find me somewhere else to live, I moved out.’
‘I can understand how you felt, but maybe that wasn’t the best thing to do. By making your life so unbearable that you moved out, Richard retained your home.’
‘I know that now, but at the time I was at the end of my tether, my nerves all over the place. Richard rented me a flat in the next town, arranged a small allowance and advised me to see a solicitor to file for a divorce.’
‘The bastard! Oh, pardon my language, Betty, but I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. You poor thing. What did you do?’
