34. The man who loves you – 1992
‘You’re back! I thought you weren’t due home until next week. Why didn’t you tell me?’ Ursula’s mum pulled her in for a hug.
‘We came back early. I wanted to surprise you.’
‘Well you’ve done that all right. It’s a lovely, lovely surprise. Come in. Sol, get the kettle on. The prodigal daughter’s returned.’
Solly appeared in the hall, all smiles. ‘Marvellous, marvellous. And you look so well. Doesn’t she look well, Gillian?’
Her mum stepped back and looked her up and down. ‘She does. Still dressing like a funeral director though. What happened to that little girl who loved colour?’
‘She grew up and became an architect’s wife.’
‘Hmm, not sure you can blame the entire profession of architects for your husband’s terrible taste in clothes. What do you say, Sol?’
‘Oh no, I’m not getting involved. Tea, is it?
’ Sol retreated to the kitchen. They were still living in her mum’s flat.
His previous flat had been above his tailor’s shop.
When they’d first got married, they’d considered buying a house together but, in the end, he paid off the mortgage on her flat instead.
‘So how was Norway? Tell me all about it,’ said her mum.
‘It was great, So beautiful. We saw the Northern Lights.’ Well, she supposed Anton might have seen them too, but not with her.
He’d been working day and night. But she’d been treated to the sight of them four or five times while they were in Tromso and, actually, she’d been glad to have seen them on her own because he didn’t appreciate that sort of thing.
He’d have explained the science behind them and made her feel stupid and childish for thinking they were magical.
‘Tea for my two lovely ladies.’ Solly came in with a tray of tea and Jaffa Cakes, her favourite.
They always had them in now because Sol loved them.
A little too much in her mum’s opinion, but she indulged him.
It was coming up to their fourth anniversary but it felt like they’d always been together.
They just fitted each other so well. He kissed the top of each of their heads.
‘I’m leaving you to have a chat. I’ve got some work to do. ’
‘Work?’ asked Ursula, after he’d closed the door.
‘Just a jacket he’s altering. He brings work home with him now and then. We like to sew together. It’s nice,’ said her mum. ‘And I expect he wanted to give us some time on our own. He’s had some good news but he probably thought it was best coming from me. His daughter, Gail, she’s having a baby.’
‘Oh. So you’ll be a grandmother.’
‘I suppose so. A step-grandmother anyway. Would that bother you?’
‘Of course not.’ She plastered a smile across her face. ‘I’m really happy for you. For both of you. To be honest, it’s a relief. With us not wanting kids, I felt a bit guilty because, you know, we’re depriving you of grandchildren, aren’t we?’
‘Ursula, love, I’ve never thought like that. If you really don’t want children that’s fine with me, and it would have been fine if I’d still been on my own. If you really don’t want them, that is. I just wasn’t sure if you couldn’t have them, after–’
‘No, all fine there. It just made me realise I’d had a lucky escape, that’s all.’
Her mum nodded, her eyes searching Ursula’s. ‘That’s all right then. And you’re happy?’
‘Why wouldn’t I be? I have a great life travelling with Anton. I wouldn’t have got to see the Northern Lights if I’d been stuck at home with kids, would I?’
‘I suppose not. As long as you are happy. Oh, I have some other news for you. Andi’s moved again. Did she tell you?’
‘No, but I’ve got a pile of post to go through when I get back. There might be a letter in there. Where is she now?’
‘Leyton. She’s moved in with someone. Spanish name. Hang on.’ Her mum grabbed a letter from the sideboard and scanned it. ‘Pablo. I think she’s serious about this one. She’s given me the address in case we want to visit.’
‘Will you?’
‘We’ll see. Depends on whether Solly can spare the time. He’s quite busy at the moment. Unless you want to come? We could do a day trip on the train.’
‘Maybe.’ Ursula was thinking of the last time they took a day trip to London. The talk then was of babies. ‘I’ll check with Anton when I get back. Anyway, I’d better go. I need to get something for tonight’s dinner.’
She’d lied about needing to go shopping.
It could have waited but she’d had to get away.
It was the other lie, the really big one, that made it impossible to stay.
Of course she wanted children. She’d wanted them from the moment she found she was carrying her little boy and through every contraction that rejected him.
And even more so after she’d come to her senses again.
In the years since Anton told her there’d be no more pregnancies, she’d tried to reason with him, but he would not be reasoned with.
And now this news about Solly’s daughter.
She had nothing against Gail. She seemed like a really nice person.
But this. This was too much. And keeping up the pretence that she was happy childless was killing her.
The garage door was open when she pulled up on the drive.
Anton was in there, cleaning the Volvo. She’d expected him to get rid of it after she lost the baby but no, he’d kept it like a prized possession, spending his free time keeping it pristine.
She sometimes thought it was deliberate, to remind her of how she’d lost the one thing most precious to her.
To show her that her most precious thing meant so little to him.
She stood on the drive watching him pouring his love and attention into this big hulk of metal, another of his passion projects, his babies.
Yes, Anton had his babies. They just weren’t made of flesh and blood.
They were cold, hard things with no soul, no ability to love you back.
That suited him, but what about her? What did she have?
‘How are Gillian and Solly?’ He was hard at work trying to eradicate a mark on the bonnet and hardly glanced her way.
‘I want a baby.’
The announcement made him stop and look up at her. ‘We have discussed this. I have explained why I don’t want children.’
‘We haven’t discussed it. You’ve just told me. But I want a baby, Anton. I really want children.’
The ripple of irritation was back, the look of annoyance that came every time she took a step out of her mould. ‘How much do you want them? Enough to ruin our marriage? Enough to divorce me?’
‘What?’ She felt a sudden rush of something hot in her belly. It was pushing up and making its way to her windpipe. ‘Are you saying you want a divorce?’
‘No, but I think you are.’
‘Don’t be so stupid. I never said that. I said I want children.’
‘And I do not. So if you want them that badly, you must divorce me and find someone who can give you what you want.’
‘You can give them to me. You just don’t want to.’
‘Not anymore.’ He was talking in riddles, trying to twist things round and confuse her. She didn’t know what game he was playing this time but she didn’t want to be a part of it. She turned away and went inside.
There was a neat bundle of letters waiting for her on the table in the hall.
All bills or rubbish. Nothing from Andi.
She went upstairs to use the bathroom. That encounter had made her feel sick.
He did that to her. Always managed to find something to lob at her when she was least expecting it.
In Tromso, he’d accused her of throwing herself at one of the Norwegian team when all she’d done was ask the man to teach her a few words of the language.
That was why they’d had to come home early, because she’d damaged his professional reputation.
Anton was moving about downstairs. Probably putting the shopping away.
God forbid the house might look a little lived in.
Had he really suggested a divorce? It sounded like it to her.
And maybe if she wanted children she should leave him because time was marching on, and if he wasn’t going to change his mind…
She re-ran the conversation in her head, word for word, just to be sure.
Yes, he had suggested it, although it had actually sounded more like a threat.
But out of all that strange exchange, one thing stood out. What the hell had he meant by it?
She found him in the kitchen, wiping the worktop where she’d left the shopping bag. As expected, the shopping was gone. ‘You said, not anymore. What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I can’t give you children anymore. I had a vasectomy.’
‘You did what?’
‘My first trip to Canada. I took the opportunity.’
‘You took the opportunity? Without even talking to me?’ It was so ridiculous, she laughed. ‘You know, Anton, we’ve been married for twelve years and I have no idea who you are.’
He put his hands on her hips and looked straight into her eyes. ‘I am the man who took care of you when you were suicidal with grief. I am the man who refuses to see you go through that again. And I am the man who loves you and will always love you. Whatever you do.’
She pulled herself free and ran for her car before he could tell her she was being emotional and childish.
She should go to her mum and Solly and let them look after her, but if she did that, she’d have to admit she wanted children.
She’d have to tell them she’d been lying.
And what she really wanted was to be somewhere no one would expect her to be. A place where she could be alone.
She drove into town and out again towards the north side of the city, through Erdington, and Wylde Green and on until she reached Sutton Park.
Before her father turned his back on them, before they’d moved across town, her mum brought her here every week.
Sometimes, Ursula would ride her bike here with the friends she lost when she moved away.
It had been hard for her to make friends like that again.
Until Andi. Andi. She wanted so much to see her again.
To talk and laugh and dance like they used to.
And then just like that she knew where she needed to be.
Tomorrow, she’d get the address from her mum and go to London.