Chapter 32
32
Frankie
The coffee shop was busy, which was one of the reasons why Frankie had chosen to meet Robert there. The hubbub of background noise would make talking easier, less self-conscious, but it would also mean Robert would have to be a little more guarded about the things he said. They weren’t the only reasons, though. The coffee shop was where she had first come with Beth, where a friendship had blossomed and her new life had properly begun. It seemed the perfect place to end the old one.
Careful timing of her arrival meant that Robert would get there first and have to sit and wait for her, instead of her always being the one to dance to his tune. It was a small distinction, but important. She was still terrified, however, her stomach a squirming mass of butterflies as she walked among the tables to join him. She passed Beth, seated at a table in front of theirs, ostensibly reading, but instead metaphorically holding her hand, and Frankie lifted her head a little higher.
Robert got to his feet the moment he saw her, his eyes flying to her hair, clocking her jeans and boots. Hair she no longer dyed blonde, clothes so very different from the skirts and blouses she used to wear.
‘Frances…’
She was about to correct him, when she stopped. Frankie was not a name she wanted Robert to use. Frankie didn’t belong to him.
He leaned forward, about to kiss her, when she sat down, leaving him pecking at air. He frowned but quickly recovered himself.
‘You look…goodness, so different. But beautiful as ever. I wouldn’t have thought grey hair suited you, but you know…’ He studied her. ‘I think it does.’
Frankie didn’t care. Frankie didn’t dye her hair because Frankie didn’t want to. Frankie liked her hair grey, with its soft silvery waves which framed her face, and that was all that mattered.
‘Hello, Robert,’ she said.
She had wondered how he would look. Whether he would still favour the preppy, boyish style which he thought portrayed a suave elegance, and which, in the early days, she had too. So she was almost amused to find that everything about Robert remained unchanged, right down to the carefully cultivated stubble, and his wedding ring which looked as if it had been polished for the occasion. Or perhaps it was simply that she noticed it in contrast to her own, which was no longer on her finger but, instead, lying in a drawer in her flat, collecting dust.
‘Are you well?’ he asked, attempting to take her hand which was lying on the table. She removed it and slid it onto her lap. ‘I’ve been so worried about you.’ He stared into her eyes, his own soft, almost beseeching. ‘I can’t help it, but all I want to do is take you home and look after you.’ At one time he could look at her that way and she would do almost anything he asked.
She ignored his comment. ‘I’m really well, thank you.’ Clearing her throat, she continued. ‘Have you ordered a drink?’ The table between them was bare.
‘No, I…I thought we could go somewhere a little more…Somewhere nicer. Perhaps for lunch. A nice country pub, or?—’
She pushed her chair back from the table. ‘Well, I’m having a coffee. Would you like one?’ Frances would never have bought Robert a drink; it was always the other way around. Frankie, on the other hand, rather enjoyed the novelty, although she inwardly cautioned herself not to get too carried away.
‘A cappuccino then,’ he replied, also getting to his feet. Frankie waved him away. ‘No, I’ll get these.’
She received another frown but, by the time she returned to the table, Robert had regained his composure.
‘So, you’re working in a bakery then,’ he said. ‘I should imagine that’s quite a change. Are you enjoying it?’
Frankie nodded, sipping at the foam on her coffee. ‘I love it. If you remember, that’s what I was doing when we first met. I’m not sure why I ever gave it up.’
‘But darling, it was such a twee little shop, wasn’t it? Someone with your skills was deserving of so much better.’
‘Perhaps.’ Frankie wrinkled her nose. ‘But I never did go on to anything better, did I? Or, in fact, to anything.’
‘But you liked being a housewife,’ replied Robert. ‘You always said you did. And you were so good at it.’
It was true, Frankie had enjoyed it. She’d enjoyed the novelty of it when all her other friends had been working, particularly when those friends had been juggling full-time jobs with bringing up children. She had enjoyed furnishing their home and looking after it. Just as she had enjoyed having the freedom to do other things. Until, of course, she realised that she had never had any say in the way the house was decorated, or the way she looked after it, because Robert liked things just so. Until she’d realised that her freedom was limited to the house, and one or two other places which Robert deemed ‘safe’. Until she’d realised she would never be going back to work, or volunteering, or doing any of the other things she’d thought she would enjoy. She was about to reply when Robert continued.
‘Of course, if you want to carry on working, I’m sure we can sort you out something. I’ll help. You can do anything you want to do, of course you can. You could even start driving again.’
‘ Start driving? Robert, I’d never have stopped if it wasn’t for you.’
His chin dropped so that he looked at her from under his eyelashes. It wasn’t endearing; it gave him a rather unfortunate double chin. ‘Frances…let’s think about that for a minute, shall we? If you recall, it wasn’t me who stopped you from driving. In fact, I did all I could to encourage you, but you were always so nervous and timid about it. I understood, just as I can understand you not wanting to admit to it either, but we could take it slowly, try to build up your confidence again, and?—’
Frankie held up her hand. ‘Robert, we’re not here to talk about any of those things. We’re here to talk about the fact that our marriage is over and that there are things we need to put in place so that we can both move on with our lives. I thought you understood that.’
‘I do understand, really I do. I know that’s what you think. But you haven’t ever given me a chance to put my side of the story. Instead, you’ve convinced yourself I’m some sort of monster. You were obviously confused and upset when you ran away, but perhaps now that all these months have passed, you’ve calmed down a little. I had hoped you would see how much I tried to help you. The driving is just one instance of that, but there are many more, if you’d just listen to what I have to say.’
‘First…’ Frankie leaned forward. ‘I was not confused when I ran away. On the contrary, it was when I began to see things very clearly. And as you’ve mentioned my driving, again, let’s do think about that for a minute. Let’s think about how a friend once told me she knew I didn’t like driving. And how, when I looked surprised, she said she’d always got the impression I didn’t. How, when I challenged her, she couldn’t recall who had given her that impression, but then admitted it might have been you. I liked driving, Robert. I learned just after my seventeenth birthday, couldn’t wait to get my licence, in fact, and my independence, but then, when I met you, you automatically drove whenever we went anywhere.’
Robert shook his head. ‘And being a gentleman is wrong, is it?’
‘There was nothing gentlemanly about it. It was a deliberate action designed to undermine my confidence. But , you were good at it, I’ll give you that. So kind and considerate, so caring. I’ll drive, darling, you’ve had a busy day . And then it was, why don’t I drive so you can relax , or, are you sure you want to drive? You don’t much look like you want to . And even when I argued that I was perfectly fine, you’d tell me that you absolutely didn’t mind .’ She held up her hand again to stop him from interrupting. ‘And do you know what? At first, I thought it was lovely. But then the weeks went by, then the months until, suddenly, it was eight months since I had last driven myself anywhere. Consequently, the first time I did go out, I did feel a little anxious, and of course you picked up on that, told me not to put myself through it when there was no need. Told me I was bound to be nervous. But you know, Robert, I never was a nervous driver, I loved it. Yet somehow, all too easily, I became one. And even then, you didn’t stop. You’d offer to come with me, telling me I’d feel better if you did, and even though you didn’t say anything, I could see from the way you were holding your body that I was making you feel uncomfortable. Could tell by the ever so slightly unconvincing encouragements you used to give, that I wasn’t such a good driver after all. And so I doubted myself, and that’s all it took.’
‘Well, I really think…I can see that’s what you believe, Frances, but if we’re being honest with each other, you always were a little bit fanciful…Not that I mind, it’s one of your most endearing qualities actually, but?—’
‘You’ve got a bloody nerve. You systematically made me doubt all my abilities. In every area of my life, you made me believe I was useless. At work, with my friends, even my family…so don’t you dare—’ She stopped. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t get angry, wouldn’t end up justifying herself and her beliefs all over again. It was exactly what Robert wanted. She inhaled, slowly and steadily, and then sat back in her chair and drank her coffee, praying he wouldn’t notice that her hands were shaking.
Robert gaped at her, frowning, before shaking his head sadly. ‘Frances, I’m really not sure what’s got into you today. I came here wanting to be civil, to look constructively at our current situation and to offer solutions.’
Frankie shook her head. ‘No, Robert, you didn’t. You came to persuade me that you are the solution to my problems. But I don’t have any problems. I never did have, actually, and, in fact, the only problem I have now is you. I ran away because I couldn’t bear watching myself disintegrate before my own eyes. And I kept running because I knew that all I needed was some time – to find myself again, to pick up the broken pieces of the person I once was and put them back together again. And that, is exactly what I’ve done.’
‘But we love each other.’
‘No, we don’t. You don’t love me, and you certainly don’t want me to love you in return. What you want is someone who is prepared to worship you, to constantly massage your ego. But most of all you want someone willow-like, someone you can shape and bend to your will, someone to be so taken in by all the care and attention you lavish on them that they can’t see what’s really happening – that it isn’t care and attention at all, it’s controlling and coercive. You’re the one who’s broken, Robert, not me. You need help, but I’m not going to be the one to give it to you.’
His face flushed with anger, his mouth hardening into a thin line before he could stop it, before he could paste his charming smile back on and adopt his oh-so-concerned expression. And to think that less than two months ago she could well have been sitting here, just as she was now, but with all the same doubts and insecurities that she had suffered from for most of her life. She might even have been tempted by the lies Robert offered her, ones which, now, she saw so plainly. She had a life now, she had friends, she— A slight movement of Robert’s head allowed her to see behind him, to another table where a gentle giant of a man sat calmly sipping his coffee. She had William …And she smiled, feeling warmth wrap around her heart. She hadn’t thought she wanted him here today. Hadn’t known he was coming. Was too wary of being thought of as in a relationship with him. Now, she realised, that was all she wanted. And she didn’t care who knew it.
‘I’m not sure what you hoped to achieve here today,’ she added. ‘But I really don’t think it was any of the things you declared in your letter. It wasn’t to agree that our relationship is over, neither was it to be practical and formalise arrangements so we could both move forward. And, because I suspected that might be the case, I’ve already taken the liberty of doing so on our behalf. I’ve been in touch with a solicitor, Robert, and you’ll be hearing about divorce proceedings shortly.’
He looked at her, with that still boyish smile on his face, a mixture of sadness and patient understanding. ‘Frances…I can understand how you might think that’s what you want, but I hate to see you like this.’
Frankie was about to tell him exactly what she wanted, when she stopped and checked herself, instead focusing on his last words.
‘Hate to see me like what?’ she asked.
Robert squirmed. ‘You know, if you didn’t have the money for clothes which suited you better, you only had to ask. That flowered dress I loved you in, remember that? Goodness, you looked so beautiful. I’d love to see you in something like that again.’
Frankie nodded. ‘Yes, money has been tight…’
He smiled. ‘There now, you see? And hairdressers, too, cost a fortune these days.’
‘They do. That’s certainly true.’
‘I could help you, Frances, if only you’d let me.’
She lowered her gaze, as if she was thinking about his words, as if she was taking a long time to consider the implications of them, and then she raised her eyes and smiled. ‘You see, the thing is, Robert, that even if I had a million pounds, I wouldn’t dye my hair or buy those hideous dresses again. Because I don’t want to. Because I like my hair this colour. Because I like what I’m wearing. When you say you hate to see me like this, what you actually mean is that you hate to see me happy. You hate to see me, finally, a strong, independent woman who isn’t yours to command any longer. That’s what you really hate. But you’d better get used to it, Robert, because that’s not about to change, and neither am I.’
Fire flashed in Robert’s eyes. ‘You’ve never been able to make good decisions, have you? That’s been the problem all along. I put up with it, I tried to help as best I could and what do I get for it? I’ve had to hunt for you, Frances. My wife . I’ve had to employ people to look for you. Have you any idea how that makes me look? But I’ve found you now, so you can stop all your silly games and just come home again where you belong.’
‘No, thank you.’
‘Don’t make me force you, Frances.’
From the corner of her eye, she could see William getting to his feet. He sidled into the seat next to Robert and leaned up against him. ‘And just how, exactly, are you going to do that?’