walking space, the rural feel of it, in what was otherwise a suburban area, only a few miles from Guildford town centre, was why he and Harriet had settled here. He pulled his phone from his pocket, removed one glove and, without thinking about it, jabbed his wife’s number with his thumb.
‘Theo, everything okay?’
He did love her voice; it was one of the first things he had fallen in love with. She was softly spoken, her expression gentle, a voice that wrapped you up in a blanket. It was something he had seen her use powerfully when in work, lulling her opposition into a false sense of security.
He put his glove back on, stopped walking, and held the phone to his ear.
‘Everything’s fine,’ he said.
‘You sound out of breath.’
‘Just out for a walk. Look, I called because … I have these papers.’ Theo looked skywards towards the slate-grey cloud cover through the canopy of trees. ‘I know you’re not coming back, Harriet. I think I just want to hear you say it.’
There was a silence which made Theo wonder if she was alone.
‘I’m not planning on coming back, Theo.’
His eyes blinked closed. He lowered his neck into his coat, shivered. ‘Right.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Me too. I didn’t fight for you.’ He listened to the sound of clothes rustling, imagined her getting out of bed, moving to another room in her new flat. ‘Separation documents. That’s what they are. They’re not divorce papers and I need to know if I should be moving on with my life. I’m in limbo. We’re in limbo here.’
‘It’s a separation, like we agreed.’
‘I know, but it’s not really, is it? You’re not coming back. It’s the first stage in the process.’
‘Are you all right, Theo?’ Harriet’s voice was edged with concern.
‘I will be,’ he replied honestly. ‘I just wish …’
‘No, no you don’t.’ She sighed loudly. ‘It’s hard, but you don’t wish – you don’t wish this was different. You don’t wish I was coming back. We are broken.’
The wind was high. He wiped his left eye, which had begun to water, with the back of his hand.
‘It’s the truth, Theo,’ she continued.
Theo bent down on his hunkers, clutched his knees with his free hand. The words of her last sentence entered his brain, rolled around like a spin cycle in a washing machine. Faced with them, he couldn’t deny them. ‘Would you mind coming and taking the rest of your clothes?’ he asked. ‘That body lotion of yours hangs around.’
She was silent.
‘Harriet?’ He stood up again, stretched tall. ‘You there?’
‘I’m here. I’m sorry, I could take them when I pick Finn up Friday?’
‘No. Don’t do that. Finn going to yours for the first time with a boot full of your clothes wouldn’t be a good idea.’
‘You’re right. Sorry.’
Theo turned back towards the house. ‘Stop apologizing, Harriet. If we really are both to move on, we have to find the best way forward for him. I’m not sure we’ve figured that out yet.’
‘No, but it’ll come. We have to stick together where he’s concerned.’
He nodded to a dog walker coming towards him.
‘Are you in the woods?’ Harriet asked.
‘Yeah.’
‘I miss them.’
Theo laughed. ‘I’m trying not to resent that remark.’
‘I miss you too. Of course I do. I’m not in love with you any more, Theo, but I will always love you.’
He felt sure he’d heard that line before – some movie or television drama; perhaps a song.
‘I miss my son. I miss seeing Finn.’ Harriet’s voice faltered. ‘Every day I have to convince myself that leaving him with you was the right thing if I had to go.’
‘I think …’ Theo ignored her underlying question. The last thing he needed was for her to fight him for Finn. ‘I think I just needed to know you’re sure. Because you need to be, Harriet. Once these papers go back, once I put them in the post …’
‘I’m sure. I struggle with it, but I’m sure.’
Theo reached the path, stood aside to let the figure he could see coming in his direction pass.
‘Okay, then.’ With those two words, he felt his wife slip away; he felt her slip into the arms of another man he barely knew. He felt himself loosen his grip and let go. ‘We’ll see you Friday, Harriet. Take care of yourself.’
Theo hung up the phone and stood still, the person on the pathway now only twenty feet from him.
‘I thought you’d be in here,’ Finn said.
‘And what if I hadn’t been? Did you tell Bea where you’d gone?’
They both walked towards the house.
‘Of course I did. Besides, I knew you’d be in here. This is where you always sulk.’
Theo faced his son. ‘I do not sulk.’
‘You do. A little bit. The beach is a good idea on one condition.’
Theo raised his eyebrows, not much in the mood for more conditions being placed on his life. ‘And what’s that?’ he asked anyway.
‘We ditch the ham sandwiches and have fish and chips instead.’ Finn shivered on cue. ‘It’s too cold for sandwiches.’
‘We’ll take them and have them in the car on the way down or back. We’ll have fish and chips when we’re there.’
Finn smiled. ‘I’m ready to go. Are you?’
An hour and a half later, they were both sitting on the highest dune at the furthest end of the stretch of strand at West Wittering. The light was dull, the sun trying to break through the abundant clouds above them. An Atlantic wind whipped around them but Theo didn’t care. The chips were hot, the fish was fresh and crispy, and his son was huddled next to him, munching.
‘You can just see the Isle of Wight, see the outline?’ Theo pointed and Finn nodded. ‘Do you remember the time we all camped there one summer? Your mum got drunk as a skunk!’
Finn nodded again.
‘I know you miss her. You’re bound to miss her. I … I just want you to know that I know.’
Theo
