Chapter 23
Bernadette
The ring of her phone made her jump out of her skin, and it took a few moments after she saw the name ‘Nina’ flash up for her to compose herself enough to answer.
‘Hello, love, is everything okay?’ she asked, hoping she didn’t sound like the stressed out wreck that she was.
‘Mum, I’m calling to ask you exactly the same thing. How is it going? Honestly, I’m on tenterhooks. Can I help you? Is Dad home yet? Do you want me to come over? Gerry is back from work and he can look after the boys and it’s really no problem at all.’
That was Nina, Bernadette thought fondly – always one to pitch in, but prone to going a hundred miles an hour in a crisis.
‘Oh, love, I really appreciate it, I do. But I don’t want you involved and I think this is something I have to do myself.’
‘That’s what I told Stuart,’ she admitted. ‘He says you went to speak to him and he told you everything.’
‘You knew?’
‘Of course, I’m his sister!’ Nina exclaimed.
And I’m his mother, Bernadette thought regretfully.
I should have known. He should have felt it was easy to tell me.
Once again she beat herself up about the fact that over the last couple of years she’d been so wrapped up in taking care of her parents and dealing with Ken, that she hadn’t spent as much time with her children and grandchildren as she should have.
It was the thing she was most looking forward to changing.
‘I’m so sorry that he felt he couldn’t tell us, Nina,’ she confessed.
‘Mum, it wasn’t you. He wanted to tell you a long time ago, but he just didn’t want to put you in a position where you were keeping something from Dad, and he wasn’t ready to tell him. He had to make sure he was happy with his choices, both of them, before he announced them.’
Bernadette understood that. She really did. It was scary taking that step into the unknown.
‘That makes me feel a bit better, love, thank you. And I appreciate you and Stuart wanting to come over, but I’d be so worried about you both that I’d crumble, so I really think I need to do this on my own. And besides, Auntie Sarah is with me.’
‘Stuart says you two are considering hooking up now,’ Nina said, laughing for the first time.
‘If I was up for a same-sex affair, she’d be just my type,’ Bernadette joked. ‘But I’m off romantic relationships for life. It’s just me and my family from now on. That’s all I need.’
Nina must have heard the crack of her voice as she said that. ‘Mum, we’re both going to be by our phones all night and you know you just need to call and we’ll be there to support you. I know what Dad can be like but he wouldn’t dare speak out of turn if we were there. What time is he due home?’
‘In an hour or so. But honestly, there’s no need to come over. I promise I’ll be fine. I’ll call you later and let you know all is okay.’
‘Okay Mum. I’ll be thinking about you and if you change your mind, just call. Love you.’
‘I love you too, pet.’
She’d no sooner hung up than the phone rang again.
‘Connor and I want to come help you, Mum.’
‘Son, I’ve just had your sister on the phone and she said the same thing.’
‘I figured that. I was trying to get through and it just kept going to voicemail. Mum, let us come help. There must be something we can lift. Or move. We’re really useful for that kind of stuff.’
It broke Bernadette’s heart to hear him trying to lighten the mood. How had she managed to end up with these two incredible adults?
‘Stuart, I appreciate it, I really do, but there’s nothing left to lift or move.
Your Auntie Sarah and I have sorted it all.
We’ve just got one final drop-off to do and then I’m going to come back and wait for your dad and break the news to him.
Then, we’re going to agree to part like the mature adults that we are…
’ She didn’t believe a word of this, but it somehow helped to paint a positive picture.
‘And then I’ll go back to Auntie Sarah’s and this will all be over with.
You need to stay out of it, Stuart. I’d hate your dad to think you were picking sides… ’
‘But I wouldn’t be. I just want to be there to make sure you’re both okay.’
‘I know, Stuart, but it wouldn’t work out that way.
He’d say something, or I’d say something…
Look, I’m not kidding myself that it’s going to be easy.
Your dad and I have been together for over thirty years and that’s a long time to unravel.
But we’ll get there – and I’ll do everything I can to make sure that it all stays as amicable as possible. It’s going to be fine, it really is.’
She had a flashback to every time her children had ever hurt themselves, every broken bone, every aching stomach.
It’s going to be fine, she’d promise them.
It’s going to be fine. As she hung up with more assurances and a promise to call later, she knew she was kidding herself if she thought it was all going to be fine this time.
Year after year she’d thought about this day, hoped that it would come, and now it was here and she was as scared as she’d been when she’d first contemplated it.
She remembered it well. A medical conference.
Not long after Stuart was born. Bernadette had been feeling tired, frumpy, frazzled after spending months alone with a young child and a new baby.
Kenneth had spent the whole night chatting up the attractive doctor who was sitting on the other side of him during dinner.
He was so practised, so smooth, that Bernadette realised he’d done this before, and probably many times since.
Somewhere along the line, she’d stopped wondering if he was unfaithful and accepted that he probably was.
Back then, that night, she could see that the woman thought he was attractive, charming, a real prize. It wasn’t until after dessert, that Bernadette bumped into her in the toilets.
‘I’m Georgina Wilson, Head of Gynaecology at Inverclyde,’ this gorgeous lady had said.
‘Bernadette Manson,’ Bernadette had said, expecting to be swiftly brushed off.
‘Which hospital are you from?’
‘Oh. I’m not. Well, I am – I’m a nurse at Glasgow Central.’
Bernadette registered the confusion. The attendees at this function were senior doctors and consultants.
‘I’m actually here with my husband. Kenneth Manson.’
‘But I’ve been chatting…’ the other woman broke off, immediately getting an understanding of the situation. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she went on. ‘I’ve been hogging your husband’s company all night. I didn’t realise…’
‘No, no it’s fine,’ Bernadette said, trying to brush it off. She hated to cause a scene. Besides, humiliation was nothing out of the ordinary. She’d learned over the years that it came with the territory.
‘Are you coming back through?’ Georgina had asked.
Bernadette nodded. ‘Yes. I actually just popped in here to phone my mum and check on the kids.’
‘What age are they?’
‘Our daughter is seven and our son is ten weeks.’
The pity on the other woman’s face nearly broke Bernie and she felt a wave of tears sweep up to her eyes. She blinked them back, desperate to avoid making a fool of herself in front of this beautiful creature.
Too late.
Georgina fished a tissue out of her bag and handed it over.
‘Hormones,’ Bernadette murmured gratefully.
The two women went back to their seats arm in arm, and Kenneth’s face was a picture as he watched them. When they sat down on either side of him, she saw Georgina lean in towards him but was the only one close enough to hear what she said.
‘You’ve flirted with me all night and your wife was sitting on the other side of you the whole time. You really are a dick.’ With that, she toppled a glass of red wine into his lap.
It was all Bernadette could do not to give her a standing ovation.
But oh, how she paid for that moment.
Kenneth was seething, absolutely raging.
The worst ever. When they got home, he waited for her mother to leave in a taxi, then he ranted and raged, he called her every name under the sun and a few more.
Even Stuart waking for a feed didn’t stop the torrent of abuse.
She was worthless. Pathetic. A piece of crap that only had a place in this world because of him.
Rant after rant, he delivered one cruel, snide comment after another.
That was a turning point. The end of them.
That night, something inside her broke. Never again had anyone challenged his insidious ways. Until now.
That thought made her realise that she was wasting time here. Why was she still waiting around, picking up things that were easily replaceable, when she could just go, drop everything off and be done with dragging out this stress?
She had to come back and tell him, that went without saying. Sure, she could leave a note, or phone him, or send him a bloody email, but that would only be delaying the inevitable and she would live in a perpetual state of anxiety waiting for it to happen.
No, she was going to do this and she was going to do it right.
She was going to face him, to look him in the eye, and she was going to stand up to him.
It was the only way she’d be able to sleep at night.
‘You still on the phone?’ Sarah’s voice behind her.
Bernadette turned around and shook her head. ‘No, it was just the kids, checking in. Stuart is deeply disappointed that we’re not having an illicit affair.’
‘We can if you want…’ Sarah joked. ‘I mean, I’ve never tried it, but at my age I’ll try anything. I ate quinoa last week.’
Bernadette hooted with laughter. ‘I don’t necessarily think you can compare the two.
Okay, that’s it. Let’s just get this lot into the van.
There’s honestly nothing else I care about enough to warrant the heart attack I’m about to have at the thought of him walking in that door.
I’ve got enough clothes to keep me going, I’ve got all the kids’ photos, I’ve got the jewellery my mum left me – nothing else matters. ’
Sarah nodded. ‘You’re right. Let’s fill her up.’
Downstairs, Bernadette opened the door cagily, checked there was no sign of him.
Nope, nothing. The wall clock in the hall said 7 p.m. If the surgery finished on time, he’d be back within the next twenty minutes or so.
The anxiety came flooding back. Bravery had its limits and it would appear it was intermittent.
A tightness pulled her chest muscles together and she had to steady herself with an internal dialogue.
Come on. You’ve got this. Keep going. Just keep on moving.
‘Coast clear,’ she announced, heading out of the door with two huge black bags, Sarah right behind her.
They opened the back doors of the van and deposited their loot, then shuttled back and forwards until the last bag was pushed into the packed space.
It took all the weight of both of them to squeeze the doors shut, an exertion that had tears streaming down Bernadette’s face – she wasn’t sure if they were of happiness, sadness, stress or relief.
Sarah spotted it and held out her hand. Bernadette took it gratefully.
‘You’ve got this, lovely,’ she said.
Bernadette nodded. ‘I’ve been telling myself that all day.’
‘So what next?’
‘We take all this stuff to your house and unpack it.’
Bernadette locked up, and they both jumped into the van, indicating left as they came out of the driveway.
As they passed a Range Rover Evoque on the other side of the road, it was Sarah who noticed the blonde behind the wheel.
‘Wow. There’s something you don’t often see in December.’
‘What?’
‘In that car. The Evoque thingy. There’s a blonde woman in the driver’s seat wearing huge sunglasses. Think we should tell her there’ll be no sun until next June?’
‘Maybe she’s some kind of private investigator on a stake out, Miss Marple,’ Bernadette teased, glad of the momentary break from the nervous dread.
‘If she’s there when we get back, I’m going to investigate,’ Sarah announced. ‘Just in case she’s staking out the joint for a burglary crew to come in and ransack the street.’
‘Good idea. You’ll get a special commendation from Neighbourhood Watch.’
As they waited at the traffic lights at the end of the street, Sarah exhaled.
‘Okay, Bernie, here goes. Final stage in Operation Freedom.’
‘I wish it was,’ Bernadette sighed, that choking anxiety right back and shooting to unsurpassed levels. ‘But I still have to come back and tell him.’