Chapter Four
Monday morning came too soon. I was starting a locum position in a small NHS dental practice on the outskirts of Bournemouth.
It was for a three-month period on a Monday only, and it was an hour’s drive from my house in Winchester.
I didn’t mind the commute, driving gave me the solitude I desired to think.
Resentment had built at home in the mere twenty-four hours since realisation struck. Tiny things I used to tolerate quietly were becoming massive issues I was ready to explode over. I’d had to pick up more Stella cans from the living room floor this morning and the room had smelt like a brewery.
I didn’t want to watch our marriage shatter, crumbling both of us into pieces of our former selves. I’d far rather, if it was going to happen, that we had a fast, clean break so there was no time for things to get really ugly. There was no doubt in my mind I had to leave, but what would I say?
What would I tell my family?
Where would I go?
What would Rob do?
It wasn’t my job to look after him, he was a grown man after all. But I couldn’t help feeling some sense of responsibility. His family were in the States.
Could he go back?
Would he even want to?
I felt like I barely knew him at all.
I pulled into the driveway of the dental surgery to begin my day. It was a relief to do something practical after all the pondering I’d been doing all night.
At lunch time I sat in the staff room with my new short-term colleagues and dabbled in polite conversation while slyly checking my phone.
No messages, but I had a friend request on Facebook.
It was a certain John Kelly. My stomach did a little lurch.
I clicked on his profile picture but couldn’t see much as he was up a mountain togged out in skiing gear.
It was nice he’d bothered to search for me. I’d accept it tonight. I didn’t want him to think I sat desperately waiting by the phone, even if it was ridiculously close to the truth.
The day passed quickly. It wasn’t long before I was in my car again, mentally and physically exhausted. I dreaded going home to that house, to Rob.
But I couldn’t just up and leave. My brother was getting married in four weeks and it would cause a complete uproar before the wedding.
It would be completely selfish of me not to just wait a few weeks. Plus, it would give me time to decide what I was going to do with my life, to come up with some sort of plan.
In the night’s darkness, I toyed with the idea of moving back to Edinburgh.
I’d been so happy there, bar the weather.
I still had a lot of contacts. I’d have no problem finding work.
Some of my best friends were still there.
Edinburgh is a really short daily flight from Dublin, but whatever I did, it would have to be for me.
Not on the off-chance John was the man of my dreams, even if he seemed absolutely perfect.
I needed to sort myself out and get my shit together. For me, not for anybody else. Whether things ever worked out with John, he had shown me a fresh perspective. I had to make the change, as unnerving as it was. I had just needed the kick up the arse to motivate me to do it.
It wouldn’t be pleasant for any of us. Nobody gets married thinking it will end in divorce. But I couldn’t waste any more of my life like this, in a stale, loveless marriage.
At the prospect of leaving, a tiny glimmer of relief flickered on the horizon.
Until now, I hadn’t realised it had been there in the background the whole time. I hadn’t realised how weighted I’d been, hadn’t wanted to see the massive elephant in the room. So, I’d closed my eyes.
I pulled up at the house, poured myself a generous glass of Rioja and ran a bath. Rob was home already, sitting in front of the television.
‘What’s for dinner?’ he said.
‘I don’t know. What are you making?’
He looked blankly at me, frown lines creasing his forehead. The lights were on but, as usual, nobody was home.
‘Look, there’s pasta in the cupboard. It will only take fifteen minutes. There’s a sauce in there too. Just do enough for yourself, I’m not hungry.’ I was subtly trying to prepare him for the real world, the one where everything wasn’t done for you.
Twenty minutes later, I heard him banging around in the kitchen below and gathered he’d taken my advice.
I got into bed early. Rob fell asleep on the couch watching television. He always slept in the spare room, it started because he snored, but that was just an excuse. We just preferred to be apart.
I accepted my new Facebook friend, did some cyber stalking, wondering if he was sitting in Ireland, doing the same.
Eventually, I slipped into a deep sleep, the exhaustion finally catching up with me.