Chapter 26
MARCUS
I barely sleep on Saturday night and am out of bed very early on Sunday.
I’m seeing Frankie later this morning. She asked to meet as early as possible; I’m guessing she’s realised what I’m going to have to say and, like me, wants to get it out of the way.
I thought it would be best to wait until the kids go out, Ruby to a netball tournament and Sam to football, so we’re meeting at ten.
I go to check on the cows; I have a dairy farm as well as my wasabi farm.
The wasabi business is profitable enough to fund staff for the dairy side of things, but I do still like to be physically involved.
Usually the cows are a calming presence but this morning I’m struggling to smile about anything.
Yesterday morning, Ruby asked me to break up with Frankie.
It seems insane to do such a thing because a child asked me to.
The thing is, though, that I’ve seen what Astrid abandoning her has done to Ruby, and I’ve also learnt, ironically from Frankie, what effect it has on people well into adulthood when they believe, rightly or wrongly, that their parents don’t love them enough to put them above others.
So I think that – however sad it might be for Frankie and me – I’m going to have to tell her that I have to take a break from seeing her until I’ve spoken further to Ruby, got her to understand that a romantic relationship will not take away from my love for my children.
* * *
We agreed to meet up the lane nearest the café; I get there a few minutes early. The least I can do is not keep Frankie waiting.
When she rounds the corner and begins the walk up towards me, I feel almost physically sick with misery. I love her. I want to be with her. She makes me happy. I want to do my best to make her happy. I hate the situation we’re in.
She’s wearing a puffa jacket over jeans and wellies.
She has her hair piled up in what Ruby describes as a messy bun, and she isn’t wearing any make-up.
Her eyes look a little red, like she’s tired or has been crying, or maybe both.
She looks beautiful. She looks like my Frankie.
Except, for the time being, we can’t be together.
‘Hi,’ I say when she’s within earshot. It sounds wrong: too light, too mundane for this situation.
‘Hi.’ She comes to a halt a couple of metres from me.
‘I’m afraid…’ I begin. ‘That is… Oh, God.’ I don’t know how to say this. I’m scared I’m going to fuck it up and upset her more than I have to.
‘Shall we move somewhere where no-one’s going to overhear us?’ She doesn’t wait for agreement; she immediately climbs the stile and begins to walk fast up the hill.
She stops after a few minutes and turns and faces me, folding her arms across her chest. I walk very slowly towards her; it’s as though my legs have weights attached to them.
When I reach her, and, feeling unbelievably mournful, open my mouth to speak – why on earth did I not actually prepare anything – she leaps in and says, ‘It’s fine. I understand. I’m guessing Ruby found out about us and isn’t happy and you have to end things.’
‘I…’ I feel like the most tired person in the world.
‘Sort of. Unfortunately I can’t see you for the time being, until Ruby understands that I wouldn’t be choosing you over her.
’ I want to tell Frankie my entire conversation with Ruby, verbatim, but it would feel disloyal, like I was somehow betraying my daughter’s trust. ‘I hope that she’ll understand very soon.
But in the meantime, I can’t see you. My only alternative would be to continue seeing you and lie to her. ’
‘You can’t lie to her,’ Frankie says.
‘No. I can’t. She has to know that I love her infinitely and would do anything for her.’
She nods.
‘I also… I love you too.’ I’m struggling to keep my voice sounding normal. ‘Hopefully this is only for a very short time.’ What if it isn’t? What if it’s forever?
She nods again.
‘But also…’ I can’t lie to Frankie either. ‘It could be for some time. Until Ruby’s older.’
‘I’m guessing maybe several years older.’ Frankie’s voice sounds flat, like she’s feeling hopeless. As do I.
I wonder how old we’ll both be when the time comes that Ruby would definitely be okay with it. I know that Frankie wants children. She might be forty by the time Ruby and Sam are both cool with me having a partner. Into her forties, even.
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘So I can’t ask you to wait for me. Obviously.’ Selfishly I do want her to wait. But, also, I don’t, because I love her and I want her to be happy.
‘No,’ she agrees.
‘I love you so much. I… I’ve never loved any woman the way I love you. If things were different…’
‘Yep.’ Her voice is clipped. I think she’s trying not to cry.
‘With regard to the fake relationship…’ It feels crass to be mentioning it now, but I’d rather talk about it in person than text later. ‘Ruby said… we don’t want to upset your grandmother…’
‘Yeah,’ she interrupts. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’m going to move back to London soon. We can officially fizzle out then. And we’ll obviously be unofficially fizzling from now. Hopefully she and Roderick are too busy enjoying each other’s company to notice.’
‘Please don’t feel you have to move back to London because of me.’ This is unbearable.
‘Yeah, no, I was always going to go,’ she says. ‘This was just an interlude.’ She isn’t meeting my eye; I don’t think it’s true. ‘There are some great job opportunities coming up.’
‘Great, then,’ I say, hoping it’s the right response, but pretty sure it isn’t. ‘But, also, please don’t ever feel you have to go because of me. I mean, it should be me who moves.’
‘It shouldn’t. Ruby and Sam are happy here and you have your wasabi, and honestly I want to go back to London.
I mean, I really don’t love working in the café.
You know all those stories about people leaving the big city and finding true happiness working in village cafés?
Yeah, they’re complete crap.’ She’s blinking, like she’s trying to hold back tears.
I hate that she feels that she has to say all that, either to make me feel better or to save face herself. She shouldn’t have to do either.
She does a great big sniff, somehow looking even more beautiful than ever as she does it, and says, ‘So let’s go.’
And then before I can speak further, she marches off down the hill ahead of me. I let her go, because she clearly doesn’t want to walk with me. She gives me a little wave when she’s over the stile – which breaks my heart – and then she whisks herself round the corner of the building.
I suspect that she might bawl her eyes out when she’s in the privacy of her own flat.
I’d like to do the same. I don’t think I really thought when we started this conversation that we would be splitting up forever, more taking a break while I talk things through with Ruby, but Frankie took it that way, and she’s right: I can’t ask her to wait for me.