Chapter 8
You’re not going anywhere
I don’t take off the rings.
I thought about it all weekend, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
I’m confident that my marriage is over, but taking off my rings feels like I’m closing a huge chapter of my life, and I don’t think I’m ready to start the next one yet.
Besides, the children in my class are observant enough to notice something like missing wedding rings, and I’m definitely not ready to be questioned about it by nine-year-olds.
“Okay, off you go for lunch,” I say to my class.
They leave the room in single file and head to the canteen while I collect in their books for marking. My morning hasn’t gone brilliantly, despite carefully planning all of my lessons over the weekend. Whatever could go wrong, did go wrong.
That’s because you’re shit at your job.
Without the option of blasting my music to drown out my inner-critic, I hum to myself as I pick up the scraps of paper and stray pencils littering the once-blue, now-grey carpet.
“Mrs Simmons?”
The small voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I turn to the girl standing next to my desk. “Everything alright, Alys?”
Alys is one of the kindest and most sociable kids in my class, but she struggles with her work.
She never lets it get her down and always tries her best anyway.
Unfortunately, she doesn’t have the best home life, and lack of support and even interest from her parents has led to her falling even further behind.
“I just wanted to say thank you. For buying me lunch the other day when my mum didn’t… when she forgot to pack mine.”
Her mum didn’t forget; we both know that. She just didn’t bother. But for the sake of Alys’s pride, I go along with it.
“Anytime, sweetheart. Did your mum remember to pack your lunch today?”
Alys nods and holds out her lunch bag. It looks heartbreakingly light.
“Here,” I say. I reach into my desk drawer and pull out a packet of crisps and a cereal bar I keep in there for occasions such as this. “Have these too, for helping me sort out those papers I dropped earlier.”
The little girl smiles appreciatively and takes the snacks, popping them into her lunch bag.
Once they’re safely inside, she takes a step forward and throws her arms around me.
She’s small for a nine-year-old, and barely reaches my waist, but she hugs me tightly.
I hug her back, sending her as much comfort as I can before releasing her.
“Go and enjoy your lunch. And let me know if Mum forgets your lunch again, okay?”
“Thanks, Miss.”
Alys skips away towards the canteen, and I’m left alone in my classroom. The silence, broken only by the pitter-patter of raindrops on the windows, soon becomes deafening as my feelings of inadequacy flood back in.
Deciding to go and embrace the noise of the staff room for a while, I pick up my lunch bag (packed full of deliciousness of Connor’s making), then change my mind and leave it on my desk.
I make my way to the staff room with my water bottle instead.
Thankfully, there’s a seat free at the table next to my work bestie, Violet.
You know she just tolerates you, right? She’d rather you weren’t here.
Humming – under my breath so I don’t draw attention to myself – I turn away from the table and head for the kettle.
“You’ll come, won’t you, Tilly?” Vi calls between spoonfuls of yoghurt.
“Hmm?” I busy my hands with finding a clean mug and teaspoon. “Go where?”
“End of year do! We’re thinking of going to The Nightingale for food, then out for drinks in town.”
Maybe letting my hair down would do me good?
I blush uncomfortably as I realise I’ve probably walked in on their conversation and they feel obliged to ask me to go.
I always feel awkward when we go out anyway.
Everyone gets dressed up and looks amazing, drinking, dancing and enjoying themselves while I sit in the corner feeling like the fat friend bringing everyone down.
“Erm, no, I think I’m busy that day, sorry.” I add milk to my tea and make a mental note to add it to my tracker when I get back to class.
Violet laughs. “I didn’t even tell you when we’re going! You’re going whether you want to or not. You deserve it after” – Please don’t announce it in front of everyone – “Rhys cheated on you and you left him.”
Everyone in the room pauses mid-bite and turns to look at me. My cheeks burn as I silently curse Violet. She doesn’t mean anything by it, but her lack of filter can be the bane of my life.
“He did what?” Seren asks, her mouth full of cheese sandwich.
“When did this happen?” Tim, the school’s biggest gossip, seems a little disappointed that he hasn’t heard it first.
“I left him last week,” I answer simply. I’m sure they don’t really want to know the details of my shitshow of a life. I pick up my cup of tea and make to leave the room.
“Aren’t you staying for lunch?” Violet asks me as my hand lands on the door.
“No, I already ate at my desk,” I lie.
“Okay. But you are coming out with us. Get yourself something hot to wear, and we’ll find you someone to get under so you can get over Rhys!”
A shudder wracks my entire body at the thought of sleeping with someone new. At least with Rhys he knew what he was getting into.
I force a smile and a small ‘Okay’ before retreating to the quiet of my classroom.
Once I close the door behind me, my panicked thoughts swirl around my brain and make me dizzy.
I slump into my desk chair. Unfortunately, I sit too hard and the chair spins around, making me even more dizzy.
The prospect of going out and being sociable is daunting enough, but now I need to go shopping to buy something to wear.
I doubt my usual jeans-and-top combo will satisfy Violet, who, at twenty-three, is effortlessly attractive.
If I didn’t love her so much, I’d be disgusted by her figure and natural beauty. As it is, I’m just plain old jealous.
I try to control my breathing, and pick up my phone to text Ivy and ask her to come shopping with me.
I’m halfway through typing my pleading message when I remember she’s in Scotland and isn’t an option.
I’ll just have to go alone. It’s probably better that way anyway.
I’m terrible at shopping and always end up getting upset when I can’t find anything suitable.
It’s best if I keep other people out of it.
The rest of the day passes uneventfully, and I’m soon walking into Connor’s house, laptop under my arm.
I left work not long after the children today, which is virtually unheard of for me, but I was feeling overwhelmed and overstimulated in school and had to get away before the bad thoughts took over.
Unfortunately, the house is too quiet with Connor still out working the lunch shift, and the little criticising voice in my head demands my full attention in the silence.
You make everyone else’s life worse by simply existing.
I hold my head in my hands and start to sing the first song that comes into my head: ironically ‘I’m Walking on Sunshine’.
You messed up with Rhys. You mess everything up. It was all your fault.
I belt out the chorus, my eyes shut tight, in a desperate attempt to distract myself. But it’s not my voice that pulls me out of my spiral, it’s the deep, off-key one coming from the front door.
“…and don’t it feel good! Fucking love that song.” Connor’s smile drops when he notices my pale face and teary eyes. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing, I’m fine.” I turn away and hurry to the stairs, towards my room.
“Tilly?” he calls after me.
“I’m fine. Just tired, I’m going to bed.”
When I get to my room, I crawl under the covers without even changing into my pyjamas. It’s not remotely comfortable, but I stay where I am. I pull the covers over my head and let the little voice remind me what a terrible person I am until I fall asleep.
There’s a soft knocking coming from my left.
“Rhys?” I call out. “Why are you knocking?”
“It’s me,” Connor says from the other side of Ivy’s bedroom door.
Not Rhys on the other side of our bedroom door back home. Though I suppose that’s not my home anymore.
“Oh, come in.”
Connor opens the door carefully.
“Sorry, I was half asleep. I got confused.”
“That’s okay.” He places a cup of tea on the bedside table for me. “I just wanted to check on you. And don’t you dare try to tell me you’re ‘fine’ again.”
He gives me a stern look when he sees me open my mouth to tell him just that.
“I’m not fine.” My voice cracks.
Connor sits next to me on the bed and puts his arm around me.
I instinctively rest my head on his shoulder and breathe in his scent.
I always liked Rhys’s smell, even if it was a bit overpowering.
But Connor’s scent is different. It’s subtle, unmistakeably masculine, but has the unexpected effect of instantly calming me down.
My breathing evens out, my heart stops hammering in my chest, and I don’t feel quite so lost in my own head.
“I’m sorry,” I say after a few minutes of subtly sniffing Connor. At least, I hope it was subtle. “I’m okay now, really. Thanks for the tea.” I move to sit up, but the arm around my shoulders tightens and pulls me back towards him.
“You’re not going anywhere, Tilly. Talk to me.”
“Honestly, I’m fine…”
“I think you’re misusing the word ‘honest’ there,” he quips. “Look, you don’t have to talk to me if you really don’t want to, but I seriously think you should speak to someone. You’ve been through something major, you must be feeling so much, and it’s not good to keep it all to yourself.”
He’s right, of course. I am feeling so many things at the same time that I can’t keep track of it all, and I’m increasingly aware of the fact that I haven’t properly grieved for the end of my marriage.
I’ve actually barely acknowledged it since it happened, and that both confuses me and fills me with shame.
I spent seven years of my life with Rhys, and I’ve barely shed a tear since it ended.
That’s because you’re selfish.
And talking to Connor about my problems would be selfish. He’s doing enough by letting me stay here; he doesn’t need my drama too.
“I don’t really think I’m ready to talk about it.”
“Okay. How about getting shit-faced instead?” he suggests with a wicked grin.
I gasp in horror. “It’s a school night!”
“Not for you, it isn’t. Give me your phone.” He holds out his hand expectantly and I hand him my phone out of pure curiosity. It’s password protected anyway, so he can’t do any harm.
Or so I thought. Within seconds he’s cracked my passcode and is scrolling through my contacts.
“Your passcode is your birthday?” he scoffs with a grin. “Weak, Tilly.”
“What are you looking for?”
I’m starting to get a little worried now, so I reach for my phone, but Connor is quicker. He stands up, taking the phone with him.
“Aha!” he says to himself. He presses the phone to his ear. “Hi, is this Matilda’s headteacher?”
Oh, shit. My eyes widen and I lunge for the phone, but he wraps an arm around my waist to keep me away.
“Wow, you don’t sound old enough to be a headteacher! They must have hired you straight out of university.”
I roll my eyes at his obvious flirting. Surely no one would fall for that?
“I’m Matilda’s brother. I’m calling on her behalf as she isn’t up to making phone calls right now. She’s in bed with a terrible fever as we speak.”
I hear Melanie softening on the other end of the line in a way I’ve never heard before. How does Connor manage to make everyone feel at ease? I stop struggling against him and he loosens his grip but keeps his arm around my waist.
“Yeah she’s in pretty bad shape, so she’ll be off for a few days at least. I’ll get her to give you a call when she’s feeling better.”
There’s a pause while Melanie speaks, but I can’t make out what she’s saying. I brace myself, assuming she’s berating Connor and demanding I be in work within the hour.
“Of course I’ll give her your love! That’s so sweet. Tilly really is lucky to have someone as compassionate as you as her boss. Thank you for being so understanding!” Before Melanie can speak again, Connor hangs up the phone and hands it back to me, a triumphant smile on his face.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” I say in disbelief, and with maybe a hint of gratitude.
“Looks like you’re free for drinks after all.”