long? Were all those years and the man she thought she was married to some clever trick of the light? ‘You’re always telling people you’ll do anything, absolutely anything, for me and the kids. Anything at all as long as it didn’t upset your plans, obviously.’
‘Oh for Christ’s sake, be reasonable.’
‘Reasonable? Reasonable – how dare you?’ Kate took a deep breath, struggling not to choke as a great roaring gust of betrayal blew like a hurricane wind through her memory. She stared at him, trying to fathom out which things between them were still true, which were false, which words of love, which promises, were real now?
‘I’ve already said we can sort this out.’
‘I don’t know if there is anything left for us to sort out, Joe.’
He pulled a puzzled face as if she’d sprung some huge surprise on him.
‘I need to get away from here – from you, I need time to think –’
‘Think?’ he repeated, and then laughed nervously ‘What about?’
‘What do you mean, what about? What do you think?’ she said incredulously. He was about to say something, God alone knows what, when Danny appeared in the kitchen door looking seriously miffed, clutching a family-sized bag of blue Doritos in one paw and a jar of salsa dip in the other. He grinned at Kate. He’d obviously been on a search and destroy mission through the fridge, had a rather fetching milk moustache and was still, it seemed, waiting for the reply and the fiver he wanted.
He looked from face to face; like the dinosaur, the adolescent brain is situated a long way from the site of any meaningful activity, so it took Danny about a minute of glacier-grinding silence to work out that things weren’t exactly going well in the back yard and to make a tactical withdrawal. As he did, Kate got up and followed him inside, her whole body trembling with a volatile cocktail of intense unnameable emotions.
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,
