Showdown
Showdown
LEO PHONED THE NEXT DAY. ELLEN SAW HIS NAME on the screen of the mobile phone he’d got her for Christmas, and nearly didn’t answer.
‘Hello.’
‘Hi. Are you OK?’
She closed her eyes, hating the careful note in his voice. Waiting for her to swear at him again. ‘What do you want?’
‘I’d like to take the girls for a few hours on Saturday.’
She couldn’t say no. ‘Don’t bring them to her. I won’t let you take them if she’ll be around.’
‘I promise.’
‘Your promise isn’t worth a curse. If they tell me you brought them to her I’ll fight you in every court in the land to get you barred from seeing them.’ Could she even do that?
‘I won’t, Ellen.’
‘I’ve told them you’re busy at work. I need you to say the same.’
‘I will.’
‘They’ll be ready at ten.’
Every day Grace asked where he was, and every day Ellen told her he’d see them at the weekend. Juliet, turning nine in April, needed more of an explanation.
‘We’ve decided to live in different houses for a while,’ Ellen told her, ‘and see how it goes,’ and Juliet’s face crumpled and Ellen held her while she cried, and felt fresh hatred towards him for ripping their family apart.
When the doorbell rang on Saturday, Grace rushed to the hall and flew into his arms as soon as Ellen opened the door. Juliet followed, giving him a more cautious greeting, and turning to hug her mother before she left.
‘I’d like them back by five,’ Ellen said stiffly.
‘Yes.’ He seemed about to say something else, but she closed the door before he had a chance. After they left, she stood in the hall and listened to the silence of the house.
‘I’m so sorry,’ her father said on the phone. ‘I’d like to kill him. I wish you were here. Of course you can stay with me. I’d love to have you and the girls for as long as you want.’
‘I was afraid for you,’ Frances said. ‘I can say it now. I didn’t trust him one bit, or that Claire. I knew she was bad news, I wished she wasn’t your friend. You’re well rid of them both. What will you do?’
‘I want to move home with the girls, but he’ll have to agree, and it won’t be before the summer.’
‘Ring me as often as you want, and I’ll ring you. You’ll manage, you’re strong like me. I know you’ll manage.’
Was she strong like Frances? She didn’t feel it. She felt broken in pieces – but for the girls’ sake she would have to go on.
‘Oh, Ellen,’ Joan said, ‘I don’t believe it. Not again. How could he do it? And with Claire Sullivan, just to make things worse. That’s just horrible. I have to say I never liked her. I always felt she looked down on me.’
I don’t know what to say , Danny emailed. It’s unbelievable, the worst thing. I could kill him for hurting you. We’re thinking of you, pal. Don’t lose heart, you have the girls and you’ll always have them, and your aunt and your father and Joan – and you’ll always have me in your corner too. Stay strong and keep in touch.
And then, three Saturdays later, Leo having called and collected the girls as usual, Ellen answered another doorbell ring an hour after they’d left and found Claire standing there.
‘Ellen,’ she said quietly, ‘can we talk? Please?’
Ellen felt the blood rushing to her face, flooding it with heat, pulsing in her temples. Her legs shook; she went to close the door, but Claire planted a foot in the way.
‘Please, Ellen.’
And then she found her voice – and with an effort, kept it under control. ‘How dare you come here. How dare you come to this house.’
‘Ellen, I just – this wasn’t meant to happen. I would never have—’
‘Wasn’t meant to happen?’ Ellen shot back, anger flying in. ‘You make it sound like an accident!’
‘I mean, I didn’t set out to—’
‘To what – seduce Leo? When you could have any man in London, you decided to take mine? You couldn’t bear to see me happy and settled, so you made it your business to sabotage it. What did I ever do to you to deserve that?’
Claire winced. ‘Nothing. You did nothing. Look, it’s not as—’
‘I trusted you. I never in a million years thought you’d hurt me – you of all people – but you have hurt me in the worst possible way. You lied to me, for years you deceived me. You pretended to be on my side when you weren’t.’
‘Ellen, I swear—’
‘You made him choose, because you knew he’d choose you. You didn’t care that you were taking him from his girls. That meant nothing to you. You don’t care about anyone but yourself. You never have.’
As she spoke, it felt like a veil was being pulled away. How had she never seen the real Claire? All the clues were there. All the evidence was in full view. She always got what she wanted, whoever she had to walk over to get it.
‘Ellen—’
‘You make me sick. Your parents would be mortified, they’d be disgusted if they knew the kind of person you really are.’
She thought of them, those two kind, decent souls who would die of shame if they had any idea what their precious daughter was capable of, what she had done.
Ellen could tell them about the abortion. She could throw that little bombshell at them, see how Claire liked it – but of course she wouldn’t do that to them. She wasn’t Claire. She was altogether better.
‘Don’t come here again,’ she said. ‘Never come here again.’ She closed the door, this time without any resistance, and leant against it. The end, she thought. The end of them. It brought no comfort.
‘I want to take the girls to live in Ireland,’ she said to Leo that evening, Juliet and Grace having been sent in to wash their hands for dinner. ‘In July, when the school holidays begin. My father has said we can live with him in Dublin until we get sorted.’
‘Ellen, London is their home, pretty much the only home they’ve known. And your work is here.’
‘You’ve ruined London for me. I can’t stay here any more. I have to give up a job I love because of you.’
‘But Ireland is another country.’
‘It’s an hour on a plane,’ she said. How cold she sounded. How unfeeling she had to sound, so she wouldn’t break down. ‘And the girls are half Irish. I know you can stop them from leaving, and I’m asking you not to. I’m asking you to do the decent thing.’
‘When will I see them?’
‘As often as you want, in Ireland.’
He made no reply to this, and she had to hope he would agree. After destroying what they’d had, after wronging her so cruelly for so long, she prayed he would do the right thing now.
‘We’ll miss you,’ Lucinda said when Ellen handed in her notice. ‘We’re so sorry this has happened. We might continue to use you as a freelancer, if you’re happy,’ and Ellen said that would be marvellous. She’d been lucky with her jobs in London: shame she’d been so unlucky in love.
In July, Leo having consented to the move, they packed their bags. Her father travelled on the ferry from Ireland and filled his car with their luggage and brought it back to his house in Dublin while Ellen and the girls took a plane.
And Ellen, almost thirty-seven, left London with a hardened heart, knowing she would never live there again.