Chapter 37
Fiona felt wrung out when she left the hotel. Emotionally exhausted. But there was a swirl of relief as well. Relief that Meeko now knew everything. Relief that she no longer had to keep secrets from her closest friend. And relief that he hadn’t over-reacted. He hadn’t tried to comfort her or tell her all the things in life she should be grateful for. He hadn’t suffocated her with pity. She’d been worried the revelation would change their relationship for the worse. Now there was the possibility it might have changed it for the better. Deepened it.
And there was the weird way that Meeko had looked at her when he’d said that he didn’t want a new woman in his life. Dangerous but attractive possibilities erupted. But if they boiled over, she’d lose her closest friend as well as a chance at love. Had Meeko considered that? Better to grow old without a life partner but with a close friend, than to grow old without a partner but with a ruined close friendship.
“What’s for lunch?” Joe’s voice tugged her back to reality as soon as she got home. “That was a long run,” he added as an afterthought.
“Lunch is whatever you make for Adele and yourself. I’ve just had brunch and now I’m going to have a long bath.” Fiona needed to shut herself away and think. Think about Joe and their possibly not-future together. Think about Meeko and the implications of him being ‘available’. The reality of that prospect sent tingles down her spine. Think about Rob and whether she should go ahead with the talks — would that be cathartic or playing with fire?
The hot water was balm for her soul, easing the tension that had built in her shoulders and neck. She was in a relationship with a physio, and she knew how strong and clever his fingers were, but never had she asked for, or had he offered to give her, a massage. Was that because, right from the start, he had decided not to mix business with pleasure? Or simply that he didn’t want to use his skills unless it was for financial gain?
Natalie squalled. Fiona leaned over the edge of the bath to turn up the small radio she’d placed on the bathroom floor. A Radio 4 current affairs programme provided white noise to shut out the crying and facilitate the thinking.
After forty-five minutes and several top-ups from the hot tap, her skin resembled a prune. Joe knocked on the door demanding to know how long she was going to be because they couldn’t find the tomato ketchup. Fiona simply smiled: she had decided her future.
She stepped out of the bath and wrapped herself in a soft pink towel. “In the door of the fridge!” she shouted. Then she took another twenty minutes to apply body lotion and loosely blow dry her hair. It was the longest time she’d spent pampering herself since Joe had turned up with his suitcases. It was the first time she’d fully relaxed since retiring and she’d enjoyed every minute. The real Fiona had been rescued from drowning in the domestic demands of others. She hoped Rose was feeling exactly the same way wherever she was. In an odd way, they were like sisters.
Downstairs, lunch, with tomato ketchup, was finished. Joe was on the settee flicking between football and a film on TV. Adele was feeding Natalie, having got the hang of doing it discreetly so she didn’t mind her father being in the room. In the kitchen, the breakfast things had been pushed to one end of the table and the lunch plates remained in situ. The sandwich toaster had been left switched on and was surrounded by crumbs and the innards of a couple of tomatoes. The cheese was warming nicely, right next to the kettle. Fiona started to put her kitchen to rights. This time she didn’t feel resentful; all of this vindicated her decision. It would have been more difficult to be sure she was doing the right thing if the room had been left pristine.
Later, Adele and Natalie went upstairs for a nap. Fiona closed the lounge door, took the remote from Joe and turned the TV off. She was done with being compared to Rose, with Joe not clearing up after himself, with the way he continued to treat his adult daughter like a child, and with him always putting himself first.
“Hey! I was watching that.”
“We need to talk and we need to do it before things go any further.”
Joe sat up straight and eyed her suspiciously. “You sound like Rose when she brought up the subject of divorce.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“She had it all cut and dried in her head. But I didn’t want to throw in the towel until I was sure that she was sure it was what she wanted.”
“You mean you didn’t want to fend for yourself for the first time in your life.” Joe had the decency to colour and look away. “After just one month together I can understand why Rose needed to get away. The only thing I don’t understand is why she took so long to do it.” Now she had Joe’s full attention.
“What are you trying to say? Rose loved me. She devoted her life to me and the family. The divorce and this ‘trip’ of hers are some mid-life crisis thing. She’ll be back when she’s got it out of her system.”
“That will be convenient because you’ll be needing her.”
“Adele will be needing her.” Joe spoke like a teacher correcting a pupil. “And that will give us the space to reconnect.” He glanced at the lounge door, saw it was closed, and patted his lap.
Fiona shook her head. Sitting on his knee was the last thing she wanted to do. “Joe, there is no ‘us’ anymore. I shouldn’t have let this domestic charade continue as long as I have. Right back when you wanted to choose what I wore to your works do, I didn’t feel comfortable about how you were treating me, but you wouldn’t listen and made me feel that I was making a mountain out of a molehill. I gave you another chance. And then one of your boomerangs returned.”
Joe was frowning at her onslaught and there was confusion in his eyes. “Don’t bring Adele into this. There was no option but to let her stay.”
“Agreed. And I’ve grown fond of her and Natalie. But you’ve made a difficult situation harder by consistently treating her like a child, going AWOL when you’re most needed and, this is the bit that really hurts, continually telling me how much better Rose would’ve handled things. Even though I am not a Rose replacement — I am not your wife and not Adele’s mother. Plus, you seem to think I am your domestic drudge. Even when Adele moves out, I can’t see you cleaning or cooking.”
“What do you expect? I’m working full-time but you’re retired with nothing else to do.”
Fiona resisted the urge to slap his face. “I didn’t work hard all my life to retire at sixty and attend to all your washing, meals and cleaning.” She watched his hands curl and uncurl. He pursed and unpursed his lips. She’d expected to have a lump in her throat by now and to be wondering if she was being hasty and would regret this decision. She’d even put a sheet of kitchen roll in her pocket so that, if necessary, she could easily turn her head, blow her nose and regain some equilibrium. It wasn’t needed. His responses had made it easy for her to fire the final salvo. “Joe, I’d like you to move out as soon as possible.”
For a moment he was shocked into silence. Then he glared at her. “Where am I supposed to go with a daughter and her newborn baby in tow, a flooded house and a landlord who can’t seem to get it fixed?”
“Adele can stay until either Rose returns or you find somewhere suitable.” Fiona hoped Adele would stay. It would be better for the young woman than living with Joe and, despite her best intentions, Fiona had become attached to both mother and daughter.
“What do we do until I can find somewhere?” It hurt that he didn’t put up a fight to try to save their relationship. For him it was obviously a relationship of convenience rather than love.
“Adele is using my spare room. My office is too tiny to fit a bed. But the sofa is free every night.” She pointed and his glare became evil. “What about your brother with a four-bedroomed house on the other side of town? The one that dropped in to see Adele in hospital. That will be nearer work for you as well. It’s your choice. Sofa here or a bedroom there.”
Joe walked out of the room. Fiona started to tremble. She was proud of the way she’d remained calm, but now it was over she couldn’t stop shaking. For twelve months she’d believed she and Joe had the perfect relationship. It had taken just a few short weeks to realise that only seeing each other when on their best behaviour equated to building a castle on sand. Even if Adele found her own place, or if Fiona and Joe had made the conscious decision to live together instead of having it thrust upon them — neither of these things would have made them any more compatible. Joe wanted a Rose replacement, not someone who was used to her own independence and was unwilling to look after a man who thought that was still the woman’s role.
A few minutes later he walked to his car with his two suitcases and drove away. Upstairs she opened the wardrobe and shuffled her clothes along the rail to refill the slice of space she’d been forced to clear for him. A little more tension left her.
“Dad!” Adele’s voice called from the spare room.
He hadn’t told her or said goodbye.
Fiona gave a gentle knock and walked in. “It’s me, not your dad.”
The young mum was in the middle of a feed. “Oh. I just wondered if someone could refill this glass with water for me, please? I swear she’s drinking more now and I forget how thirsty it makes me until we’re part way through and I can’t move.”
Fiona refilled the glass from the bathroom and then perched on the edge of the bed. There was no easy way to say this without causing anxiety. “I’ve asked your dad to move out. He’s gone to stay with your uncle.”
Adele sat up straighter and the sudden movement made Natalie lose her grip on the nipple and she screamed. “Shit!” Adele glanced across at Fiona. “Sorry.” Very gently, she cradled her baby’s head and redirected it towards her breast.
“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve waited until you’d finished.”
“Why?” The younger woman’s face was an expression of panic. “Is it because of me? Do you want me to go? And you do know that Uncle Tom and Dad have never been the best of friends?”
It felt like a diluted version of explaining to a child that their parents were divorcing. “Me and your dad have discovered we’re not the best of friends either.” Tread carefully, don’t assign blame — even though he deserves it. “We’re one of those couples that worked fine when we saw each other once a week, but we can’t actually live with each other.”
“Are you still a couple?”
“No. But don’t worry, there is no need for you and Natalie to move out until you are absolutely ready.”
The girl smiled gratefully. “I don’t think Uncle Tom could cope with us in the way that you have.” She paused, and Fiona could tell that she was thinking how to phrase the next part of what she wanted to say. “Will Dad be allowed to visit us here? I haven’t got transport, and it’s two buses . . .”
Fiona hadn’t anticipated this. She didn’t want Joe back in the house. She now knew he was the type to hold a grudge and he wouldn’t hold back on letting her know. But he was still Adele’s father and Fiona couldn’t expect her to lug tiny Natalie across town on two buses in the freezing January weather. “Yes. But please give me warning so that I can arrange to be out. I don’t want to sour the atmosphere for you.”
For a minute they both watched the contented infant suckle. Then Fiona spoke again. “I was pregnant once.”
“What?”
“I had a miscarriage.” She hadn’t planned this moment of revelation. It just seemed the natural next step in her relationship with Adele. “I never told your dad.”
“I can keep a secret.”
“It’s not a secret anymore. Telling people feels like letting the sunshine in.” Then Fiona told her daughter-by-proxy the whole story. At the end, they both had a little cry and a hug.
After that, Fiona was too tired for any further new year, life-changing decisions. Thoughts about Meeko would have to wait. She was looking forward to a good night’s sleep with the whole of the bed to herself. This anticipation confirmed just how much she had given up and moulded herself in order to accommodate Joe.
Adele tiptoed out of the spare room with a finger over her lips. “She’s asleep. Would you like me to cook tea for a change? If you tell me what you had in mind.”
“That would be lovely! There’s haddock in the freezer — how about fish pie? I’ll get you the recipe.”
Adele cooked. Natalie slept. Fiona stripped her bed, turned the mattress and flung the bedroom windows open despite the freezing temperatures. Then she dusted and vacuumed away all traces of Joe from her bedroom. Beneath the bed she found an odd sock and a screwed-up pair of used boxers. They went straight in the wheelie bin black bag. The bed was remade with her favourite dusky pink bedding. It felt like a brand-new life chapter, but she wasn’t yet sure of the plot or its characters. The need to talk to Meeko almost overwhelmed her. But, despite that new bond of trust, he might think it weird if she asked to see him without a specific reason. She needed an excuse that would explain why it was him she was contacting to discuss her future.