Chapter 13
SHE HEARD NOAH come home in the early hours of the morning.
From the sounds he made as he clattered around downstairs she could tell he was drunk.
She had decided to spend the night in the spare room, knowing that he would want to sleep in their bed and not wanting to be banished from the room in the middle of the night, as she had been after arguments before.
She knew that he needed his own space. Her best chance of restoring peace was to leave him alone until he was ready to make amends.
She had thought she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, but she had managed to drift off at some point. She woke to the sound of footsteps on the landing. She saw the doorknob twist as Noah pushed it open. He looked awful, like he hadn’t slept a wink.
‘You aren’t at work.’
He shook his head. ‘Go back to sleep. I’ll take Raffy to school.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. We can talk later.’ He shut the door. She hoped he was okay to drive. She knew he’d have drowned his sorrows at the pub after their fight. His drinking was getting worse, and they both knew his family history with alcohol was not something he wanted to repeat.
She closed her eyes, blocking out the daylight.
Flashes of their argument span through her mind.
She turned over and buried her head under the pillow, drowning out their voices.
She tried to go back to sleep, exhausted after a restless night.
She had replayed what had happened over and over again, planning what she would say to him that morning.
One thing was crystal clear in her mind: she was not going to let it pass, she had let it go when he’d pulled her hair almost out of her scalp, but not this time.
She opened her eyes a while later, relieved that she had finally drifted back to sleep.
She looked around her. It felt strange sleeping in the spare room.
She remembered choosing the painting of a harbour scene that hung on the wall together in Hastings.
It was all familiar but oddly unfamiliar at the same time.
As she got out of bed, Noah pushed open the door with a cup of tea. He put it on the chest of drawers and cleared his throat awkwardly.
‘Look Helena, I’m sorry about last night.’ He took a step towards her. ‘I overstepped the mark. I know it.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t know what to say. I saw red…’
She remained silent. Watching him as he stumbled for the right words to somehow make amends.
‘Please, Helena. You know I don’t mean it… I’m sorry.’ He shook his head. At least she could see a flicker of shame in his eyes.
‘You scared me.’
He nodded. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I only helped her tidy up,’ she whispered. She shook her head in bewilderment. ‘Surely even you can see how inappropriate your reaction was?’
She held his gaze, watching the shame turn to indignation. She knew he was going to defend himself now, to tell her it wasn’t his fault.
‘You knew I had told you not to get involved.’
There it was, the warning tone in his voice.
But she would not be deterred. ‘Seriously Noah, so what? We live in the twenty-first century for god’s sake. I am entitled to make my own choices. You may not approve of them, but you can’t react like that. It’s ridiculous.’
She knew she was playing with fire. He clenched his jaw, clearly trying to swallow down the anger that flared up inside him. She didn’t care.
‘If you can’t accept that then you have even more of a problem than I thought.’
‘Careful, Helena.’
‘Why? What are you going to do?’
She straightened her back and stood in defiance, ready for him.
She was on a roll, daring him to react, hoping to finally get through to him, to be the mirror he needed to see the truth.
‘Your temper is completely out of control, you can’t even begin to have a rational conversation with me.
You say you know you have overstepped the mark, way, way over the mark, but you can’t help yourself, can you? ’
‘For fuck’s sake, Helena!’ His voice was getting louder now.
‘I won’t stand for this. You know how to provoke me.
You are hardly innocent in this scenario.
You know precisely how to push my buttons, exactly what pisses me off.
You can’t tell me that you aren’t to blame.
How am I supposed to control my temper when you deliberately disrespect me like that?
Is it too much to ask that you show even the slightest sensitivity towards my feelings? ’
This was ridiculous. She felt like she was banging her head against a brick wall.
‘Are you seriously trying to turn this around on me?’ Helena asked in disbelief. ‘I help an elderly neighbour, an act of kindness, and you somehow blame me for the way you react?’
‘Helena—’
‘No. That’s it. I’ve had enough. Get out of my way.’
She was desperate to get away from him.
He was blocking her exit.
He came towards her and put his hand on her shoulder, trying to pull her in.
She flinched at his touch.
‘No, Noah. I don’t want you to do that.’
He pulled her in closer, trying to kiss her, the stale smell of alcohol on his breath, ignoring her attempt to wriggle free. She knew what he was hoping, that she’d relent and they’d end this argument the way they always did, but there was no way that was happening. Not this time.
‘Get off me!’ she shouted through gritted teeth. ‘I mean it.’
He let go. ‘Fine,’ he said as she pushed past him and out the door, walking down the corridor and slamming their bedroom door shut behind her.
She went into the bathroom and locked the door, realising her hands were trembling as she fumbled with the catch.
She took several deep breaths to calm her nerves.
As she stood in the shower letting the warm water wash over her, she considered her options.
She could leave him. But where would she go?
And what would she do? Her whole life was here, with him, with Raffy.
Even as the thought entered her mind she knew she couldn’t do it.
She didn’t want to. She loved Noah too much.
And she truly believed that he loved her.
And then there was Raffy. No, that couldn’t be the answer.
Besides, maybe he had a point. She had deliberately ignored him when he had asked her not to get involved with Margery. Was there part of her that wanted to challenge him, she wondered. Did she want to push him and see how far he would go?
She rubbed her eyes and sighed. She had no choice but to get through to him.
She would go back downstairs and talk to him again.
She would insist that he go and see a therapist about his childhood and his grief.
It had to be connected. If he could let out all those suppressed emotions and work through it all in a safe space, with a professional, then surely he would be able to manage his anger better.
At the moment he was like a volcano, ready to erupt when the pressure inside got too much.
That had to be the solution. Surely, he would agree to it.
She wouldn’t ask him to go to couples therapy.
She knew he would never agree to that. But this was just him, by himself.
He couldn’t deny that he had anger issues.
He had already admitted that he did. She would use this as the trigger he needed to finally seek help.
By the time she was showered and dressed she was beginning to feel a little stronger, a tiny bit more positive now that she could see a way forward.
She came downstairs to find a note on the kitchen table.
Gone to the gym x
Good. He would have a bit more time to reflect on his actions before she confronted him. Hopefully that would work in her favour. And it meant she had the house to herself.
As she slumped on the sofa, a loud knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
She sat bolt upright. Shit! Margery. She had completely forgotten about their arrangement. She glanced at the clock: it was half past ten. She was an hour late. She opened the door, plastering a smile across her features.
Margery was beaming at her. She wore a turquoise linen jacket and a large-brimmed straw hat.
She was looking at her with a quizzical expression, clearly hesitant in case she was disturbing her.
Helena had a strong urge to collapse into her arms and rest her head on Margery’s ample chest, to be wrapped in a warm and motherly embrace.
She realised once again with a pang of longing how much she missed her mum, the frailty of her small frame as she held her in her arms.
‘Our shopping trip! I’m so sorry, Margery. I should have called… I’m afraid I’m not feeling too great.’
‘Oh dear, yes.’ Margery nodded sympathetically. ‘I can see that.’
Helena was grateful that the black rings under her eyes from her sleepless night would at least make this appear true. ‘It was so rude of me not to call you first thing. You must have been waiting…’
‘No, no, not to worry at all. I didn’t want to bother you – I thought something more important must have come up.’
‘Absolutely not. I’m afraid I’ve woken up with a terrible sore throat. I don’t want to pass on my germs, so I think it’s probably best if we take a rain check today.’
Margery smiled and nodded. ‘I quite understand. Don’t worry. I’ll leave you to it… I’m sure I can find the shop on my own…’
‘I’d still love to come with you if you wouldn’t mind waiting a couple of days? Could we possibly postpone until Monday? There’d still be plenty of time for it to arrive before Johnny comes…’
Margery’s eyes lit up at the renewed offer of help. ‘Are you quite sure dear?’
‘Of course I am. I’m sure whatever I have will have passed by then. It’s probably from Raffy’s school – such breeding grounds for germs those places…’ Helena forced a laugh.
Having agreed to meet on Monday, Margery set off back down the path with a cheery wave, wishing Helena a speedy recovery.