Chapter 15
Bernadette
Sarah pulled out of Nina’s driveway, tooted the horn, waved, then as soon as they were out of sight, pulled over, parked and turned to Bernadette in the passenger seat.
‘I’m scared to ask, but you’re not a weeping mess, so I’m risking it. How did it go?’
‘She said she’s surprised I didn’t leave him years ago.’
‘You’re kidding!’
‘Nope. I always thought she worshipped the ground her dad walked on. I had no idea she saw the flaws in him. Turns out Kenneth told her Gerry wasn’t good enough for her.’
Sarah didn’t hide her outrage. ‘No way! Gerry is a lovely bloke! Och, yet another piece of evidence that you – no disrespect – married an arse. This isn’t a split, Bernie, it’s an escape from a dictatorship.’
Bernadette didn’t answer. Even now, she still found it difficult to criticise him to anyone, even her friend of many years.
How had she not known how Nina felt? Had she been in such a cloud of misery and fakery for all these years that she’d been totally unaware of what was really going on around her?
She checked the time. Just after 2 p.m. Stuart finished at lunchtime on a Friday and headed to the Mitchell Library to study and tie up all his assignments for the week – said that way he could relax and enjoy the weekend.
He was a man of habit, like his father, but she hoped – today at least – that was where the similarities ended.
He’d spent a lifetime trying to follow in his dad’s footsteps and now he was training to be a doctor, just like him.
‘How do you think Stuart will take it?’ Sarah asked, as if she was reading her mind.
Bernadette sighed. ‘I honestly don’t know. He respects his dad so much, and you know Stuart – he doesn’t like change or drama. Maybe I should have told him first and if he was too upset by it I could have changed my mind before I told Nina and…’
‘Stop,’ Sarah said, firmly but not unkindly.
‘Bernie, you’ve lived your whole life for other people – for the kids, for your mum and dad, for the cretin…
’ They both let that hang, although it did lighten the moment.
‘…And now you need to live it for yourself. It doesn’t really matter if Stuart doesn’t approve, because he’s a grown man and he’ll get over it. ’
‘But look at the future I’m taking from them. I’m sure they expected to bring over the grandkids to our home, to have years of big family Christmases and celebrations. I’m tearing that whole picture to shreds.’
‘Because it never existed. What they would actually have had was years of visiting, with gran spending the whole time a nervous wreck in case anyone did anything that would upset granddad.’
‘He never let them see that side of him,’ Bernadette argued. ‘He has always been the big shot, the total charmer. At least, I thought he was. After what Nina just told me, I was obviously wrong about that.’
Sarah slipped the van into drive. ‘Okay, let’s get it over with. What time will Kenneth be back tonight?’
‘I’m not sure. I don’t even know if he went back to the house at lunchtime. Lord, I hope not. What if he noticed that stuff is gone?’
‘He wouldn’t have and if he did, he’d have phoned,’ Sarah said, perfectly calmly.
‘You’re right but… Bugger it, I need to check.’
She pulled her mobile phone out of the blue navy bag Nina had got her last Christmas.
Marks and Spencer. She’d spotted it when they were in doing their Christmas shopping and Nina had bought it there and then.
That had been a lovely day, but Kenneth had been furious because she wasn’t there when he got home.
The thought made her stomach clench. If that upset him, what was he going to do when he discovered that this Christmas she wouldn’t be there at all?
Marge’s voice on the other end of the phone was a welcome interruption. ‘Dr Manson’s office, can I help you?’
‘Afternoon Marge, it’s Bernadette.’
‘Oh, hello there. How are you?’ she chirped happily.
That was Marge. Always so warm and happy.
She’d been Kenneth’s secretary forever and…
a sudden thought… she’d miss her. Wow. She hadn’t even considered that she’d have no need to talk to Marge any more.
How many other things had she not thought through?
‘Marge, is Kenneth still in surgery?’
‘No, his morning one finished just before twelve.’
Oh, shit. Buggering shit. He’d have gone home for lunch. He already knew. He was probably still sitting there, staring at the empty cupboard in the upstairs hall where she’d stashed all the stuff she was taking and then removed it this morning.
She stuttered over her words. ‘Oh. Eh, I didn’t realise. I would have made him lunch if I’d known he…’
‘Ah, no, he had a lunch appointment today so he didn’t go home. He’s already back and he’s doing afternoon rounds before he goes back to theatre,’ Marge said. She didn’t go into detail, but Bernadette was so busy being relieved that she didn’t probe any further.
‘Do you need to speak to him? I can try to get hold of him…’
‘No, no, it’s absolutely fine. Can you give me an idea of what time he’ll be done though?’
There was a pause as Marge checked his schedule. ‘I think around seven. But you know how these things go – could be sooner or later. Shall I leave a message for him to call you?’
‘No, no, it’s fine. It’s nothing that can’t wait. I’ll see him when he gets home. Thanks Marge. You have a good weekend.’
And a good month. Year. Life.
She hung up, the relief now tinged with sadness. Marge had been a lovely constant in her life for a long time. Not as close as a friend, mainly due to the fact that Kenneth didn’t like to mix professional and personal life, but someone she would miss chatting to.
‘I’ve always loved this building,’ Sarah said, almost to herself, as they drew into a parking space at the side of the Mitchell Library.
‘Me too,’ Bernadette answered. It was indeed glorious. Opened in its Charing Cross location in 1911, it was an architectural marvel constructed of blond sandstone, with a stunning dome on the roof. At night it was illuminated, its beauty breathtaking.
Bernadette loved the interior even more.
When the kids were small there had been none of those soft play areas or baby yoga, or all that other stuff they had now, so this was where she had brought them, at least once a week.
They’d sit in the children’s section and read, then have a juice and a treat in the café.
It had been their favourite thing. Such a shame kids had so many other distractions these days.
‘Oh God, you’ve gone all misty-eyed. Are you getting sentimental and nostalgic? Do I have to break out the tissues?’
Bernadette sniffed, smiled and steeled herself. ‘Nope, all good.’
‘Great, let’s go then. I’ll wander around the Scottish crime section while you talk to Stuart – see if I can come up with a back-up plan involving murder and mayhem in case Kenneth kicks off.’
Sarah slipped her arm through Bernadette’s as they walked around to the back entrance, the one that led into the café area. All the while, Bernadette was listening to an internal battle in her mind.
Don’t be there. Be there. Don’t be there. Be there. Don’t be there. Aaaaargh.
She cast her glance across the sea of heads in the bright, airy café, past pensioners, students, mums and kids, people in suits, some young teenagers, a gaggle of elderly ladies hooting with laughter, a guy sitting alone…
Stuart. There he was. She felt a moment of pure misery that she was about to wreck his day and perhaps part of his future.
She paused, steeled herself, then forced her legs to walk towards him.
If Nina had taken after her father’s side of the gene pool, Stuart came from hers.
The auburn hair, natural, not out of a bottle like hers had been for the last few years since the grey started coming in.
The same green eyes. He’d never quite reached the height of his father.
At least in inches. In Bernadette’s eyes, he was already a greater man than his dad had ever been.
He was so engrossed in his books; he didn’t even see her coming until she was almost at his table.
‘Mum! Auntie Sarah! What are you two doing here?’
‘We’ve come to tell you that we’re running away together. We’re lesbians,’ Sarah replied, deadpan, making Bernadette splutter.
Stuart’s eyes widened so much she worried that he’d do himself a permanent injury.
‘I’m kidding! Although, she does have great legs,’ Sarah added, grinning.
‘Sarah!’ Bernadette chided, although she was thankful for the intervention.
Stuart shook his head. ‘I love you two, I really do.’ He got up to hug them both. ‘Good to see you, Ma. You too, Auntie Sarah. To be honest, I kinda wish it was true. It would be a great story.’
After Sarah had released him, she made her excuses and headed over to mingle with Chris Brookmyre, Val McDermid, Denise Mina, Tony Black, Anna Smith and the other voices in the crime section.
‘Can I get you a coffee? Tea?’ Stuart asked his mother.
Bernadette slid into a chair and hung her handbag on the back of it. ‘No, thanks. I’ve just had one with your sister.’
For the first time, there was a hint of concern in Stuart’s expression and Bernadette felt her stomach flip yet again.
Lord, this was hard. Stuart had always been the far more sensitive child.
Nina would be climbing trees and rounding up a gang of neighbourhood kids to play in the garden – as long as Kenneth wasn’t home, of course – while Stuart would be quite happily ensconced on the big chair in the corner of the kitchen, reading a book.
He liked calm. Predictable. Still waters.
And now Bernadette was coming along with a tsunami of change.
‘What’s happened? Is something wrong?’
For the second time, Bernadette decided to go straight to the truth. ‘Stuart, I’m so sorry to tell you this, but I’m leaving your dad. There’s no other way to say it. I’ve been unhappy for a long time and I’ve decided that I need to make some changes…’