Chapter 4 #2
‘There’s a two-minute break in between each exercise,’ Henrietta said cheerfully, while demonstrating how they were done. ‘And you’ll complete the entire circuit four times before we have a break.’
Someone muttered, ‘Lord!’ It sounded like Noreen, and Tash let out a squeak.
‘Right!’ Henrietta clapped her hands. ‘Partner up with someone, it doesn’t matter who, and pick a station. I’ll blow the whistle when it’s time to start.’
Naturally, Cleo and Tash teamed up, as did Ingrid and Frida and Lesley and Fran.
Maya looked slightly annoyed when she realised she’d have to go with Noreen, perhaps assuming the older woman would be rather slow.
Once they began, however, there was no chance to check how Maya, Noreen or anyone else was faring; Cleo was far too busy just trying to keep going.
‘Oh my God!’ she said to Tash at one point, before stepping onto a squashy ball with a dumbbell in her hands. ‘Is this even possible?’
The aim was to try to keep your balance on the wobbly ball while lowering the dumbbell and performing a series of squats. Neither Cleo nor Tash managed to balance for long before falling off.
They were reasonably good at the next exercise, which involved sitting side by side and passing a heavy, weighted ball between them as many times as possible. Cleo’s arms soon ached like mad, but she wouldn’t give up.
When it came to performing sit-ups with weights on their stomachs, however, there was almost a mutiny.
‘I don’t think I’ve got any abs,’ Cleo said, mid-crunch. She glanced sideways at Tash, who grunted in agreement.
‘This is hell,’ Tash said with a groan when she breathed out. ‘I can’t believe we’re paying to get tortured.’
Cleo snorted, which gave Tash the giggles and she let out an involuntary fart.
‘Oh God! I hope it isn’t the chia pudding,’ Cleo managed to say, with a splutter.
‘Bloody hell! Maybe it is,’ Tash replied seriously. ‘My tummy does feel sort of bubbly.’
This made them both quite hysterical and they might have disgraced themselves in front of everyone if Henrietta hadn’t blown her whistle at that moment, signalling the end of the exercise. By the time they reached the next station, they’d managed to compose themselves.
Cleo was tremendously relieved when they reached the halfway point, and Mark arrived with a Tupperware container full of chunks of chopped up watermelon. Worn out and thirsty, she thought she’d never tasted anything so good.
The break, though very welcome, lasted only fifteen minutes, then Henrietta led a forty-five-minute aerobics class to music.
Noreen, the oldest of them by far, was very red in the face but managed to power on through. She might have hated the gym, but she had a great sense of rhythm and clearly loved music and dancing, even joining in with some of the lyrics.
Not surprisingly, she hadn’t as much oomph as the young Norwegians, who seemed to bounce through the moves without expending any energy, but she certainly gave it her all.
Meanwhile Maya, who had excelled at the circuits, seemed a bit lackadaisical.
While she kept up with Henrietta, she didn’t seem to be trying particularly hard.
Perhaps she didn’t like the popular, upbeat music.
Cleo decided she’d have preferred something less cheerful that no one had heard of and couldn’t sing along to.
At last it was time to cool down, and they did various deep stretches before lying on their backs with their eyes closed and focusing for five minutes or so on their breathing.
Cleo almost dropped off, she was so worn out. They all were, she could tell, apart from Frida and Ingrid, who looked as fresh as daisies. They could probably repeat the whole morning’s activities straight away without any trouble.
Fortunately, lunch beckoned, then they could all enjoy some downtime before Pilates at 6 p.m. As Cleo and Tash strolled back towards the villa, they both agreed they were looking forward to relaxing by the pool with their books.
‘It’s hotter than I thought it would be,’ Tash commented, before taking a swig of water from her bottle. She was quite flushed in the face and Cleo was certain she was the same. She also had prickly, uncomfortable patches of sweat under her arms and boobs.
Back in her room after taking a shower, she decided to respond to her daughter’s text. She’d enjoyed the healthy, active morning and felt just about strong enough to cope with whatever might come back.
Her head told her it would probably be better to ignore Erica’s unkind message, but her heart overruled her. Somehow no further communication at all felt worse.
Sitting on the end of her bed wrapped in a white towel, she hit the reply button before typing:
Missing you. It’s nice here. Healthy food and lots of exercise. Maybe we can do something like this together one day? Mum x
There seemed to be no point in trying to address the content of Erica’s message. Cleo had done so many times before and got precisely nowhere.
‘Oh, Paul,’ she said out loud, feeling a painful tightening in her chest. He’d been kind and apologetic when they’d first separated, but it hadn’t lasted.
She shivered, remembering how he’d turned really nasty as soon as she’d started to mention divorce and money. Cleo’s lawyer had insisted she was entitled to half of just about everything, which had infuriated Paul.
Straight away, he’d begun working on Erica and had somehow managed to persuade her Cleo was being greedy. Nothing Cleo said could make Erica see things from her point of view, though Danny seemed to get it.
In the end, Cleo had settled on less than half of the joint pot, wanting to get the job over and done with.
She’d never been interested in revenge, anyway, she’d just wanted enough to live on till she could get back on her feet.
Still, Paul claimed she’d taken him to the cleaners and virtually bankrupted him, and Erica believed him.
Cleo’s stomach lurched as she pressed send. It felt a bit like unlocking the scream trapped in her chest, and bracing herself for it to dissolve into cold air, unheard or misunderstood.
Did Erica even think about her mother when she was going about her day? Or was Cleo dead to her, except when rage bubbled up so fiercely she had to let it out?
Cleo didn’t know if Erica could remember one single good thing about her childhood or their relationship. And as they didn’t see each other any more, she couldn’t ask.
Her limbs felt terribly heavy all of a sudden and it was an effort to rise from the bed. Opening one of the wardrobe drawers, she took one look at her new pink bikini, beside a small pile of socks and knickers, and opted instead for her old black swimming costume. It better suited her mood.
On top, she put on the short green towelling sundress she’d bought especially for what had turned out to be her last holiday with Paul. They’d had a week in Mallorca – just the two of them – and as far as she’d been concerned, it had gone well.
It was true, he’d seemed a little distant, but she’d put this down to tiredness and work stress.
And they’d made love only once but again, he’d needed to catch up on sleep, and didn’t some of the passion go out of long marriages anyway?
Besides, she’d been peri-menopausal and her libido was pretty low.
They’d gone on a few beautiful hikes, had some good meals, interesting chats and she’d thought they were more than OK.
She wiped her damp nose with the back of a hand and rubbed her eyes. How wrong she’d been!
She and Tash were dozing side by side next to the pool on sun loungers later in the afternoon when Cleo heard her phone ping. Her eyes sprang open and she grabbed her mobile from her bag. It was a one-line reply from Erica.
I don’t think so. That ship sailed a long time ago.
She was referring to the idea of a mother and daughter holiday.
Cleo stifled a sob and her eyes filled with tears again. She felt like a bird with a broken wing, grounded and aching, unable to move past the pain.
She hoped Tash hadn’t heard her choke, but she was out of luck.
‘Are you OK?’ Tash said for the second time that day, sitting up and staring at Cleo with concern.
Cleo hadn’t intended to speak about Erica, but Tash had such a kind expression, and it wasn’t as if she hadn’t shown her own vulnerable side; in fact, the women had well and truly bonded last night over Tash’s panic attack.
Rolling over, Cleo propped herself up on an elbow. She glanced to the other side of the pool and noticed Maya peering at her over the top of her book, but she ignored her.
‘I’ve just had an upsetting text from my daughter,’ she said. ‘We’ve not been getting on very well recently.’
Tash tipped her head on one side. ‘That’s a shame. Why not?’
Before she knew it, Cleo was telling Tash all about the divorce, how badly Erica had taken it and how she’d not seen her mother for months.
‘But I don’t understand why she’s so angry with you, when it was her dad who had the affair?’ Tash quizzed. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’
Cleo explained Erica was furious with Paul to begin with and wouldn’t speak to him, let alone see him. But about three months after he’d left the family home and moved in with his new girlfriend, he’d told Cleo he’d made a mistake and begged her to take him back. Cleo had said no.
‘It was self-protection really,’ she explained.
‘He’d literally broken my heart and for a while I didn’t know how I’d survive.
I knew if I took him back, I’d never be able to trust him again.
I’d be forever looking over my shoulder.
I just couldn’t put myself through it and I think I did the right thing.
‘I don’t know if he ever told his girlfriend about that conversation with me, but he stayed with her. He’s still with her now. If I’d said yes to him, he’d probably have ended up going back to her anyway. It might have killed me, and it wouldn’t have done the kids any good either.’
‘True,’ Tash agreed. ‘Surely Erica understands, doesn’t she? She must see your point of view?’
Cleo shook her head.
‘She thinks I’ve been cruel, selfish and money-grabbing. Her dad got to her and she believes it was partly – or even mainly – my fault he looked elsewhere in the first place. She also thinks I should have forgiven him.’
Tash raised her eyebrows. ‘Your fault? Why?’
Cleo sighed.
‘Oh, because, apparently, I wasn’t supportive enough.
I didn’t appreciate how hard he worked for us all.
He claims now I neglected him and our marriage, but I don’t think that’s true.
I adored him and thought we were a good team, but for some reason, Erica’s chosen to believe his narrative rather than mine.
I understand she’s hurting, and she’d much rather we’d stayed together.
I guess all kids want that, whatever their age.
But I don’t understand why she’s demonised me to the point where she can’t even bear to be in my presence. It’s incredibly hurtful.’
A loud splash made them both turn their heads. Ingrid had just jumped into the water. Frida, usually ready for anything, was teetering on the steps in a bright green bikini, clutching onto the rail and watching her friend.
‘Come on!’ Ingrid shouted. ‘It’s lovely once you’re in.’
Frida bent over and started feebly wetting her arms and chest with water, presumably to get used to the temperature.
‘It’s worse if you do that!’ Ingrid called cheerfully, lying on her back and kicking hard, obviously hoping to spray her friend. ‘Just go for it. It’s the only way!’
‘Don’t you dare splash me!’ Frida yelled back. ‘I’ll get out! I’m not good in cold water, you know that. I’ll do it in my own time or not at all.’
Tash turned back to Cleo with a smile and crossed her legs.
‘It’s not fair to blame you for everything,’ she commented, resuming their conversation. ‘It takes two to end a marriage. Have you tried sitting down with Erica face to face and talking things through?’
Cleo frowned. ‘Countless times, but it always ends in disaster. The last time, she stormed off and said she never wanted to see me again. I cried off and on for two weeks until she relented – kind of. She said she just needed a break to sort things out in her own head, then we could meet. But that was six months ago. I’ve suggested coffee or a walk or whatever, but she’s always got some excuse or other.
And now she’s sent these texts which tell me she’s just as furious as ever, if not more so. I don’t know what to do.’
‘Does she see Danny?’ Tash persisted. ‘Could he help?’
Cleo sat up straight and stared at her lap, fiddling with the white rubber strap on her watch.
‘They see each other occasionally when he’s home from uni; they get on OK. But he says he doesn’t want to get involved in our quarrel. It’s for us to sort out.’
‘Fair enough, I suppose,’ Tash replied with a nod. ‘I’m really sorry you’re going through this.’
Cleo smiled gratefully. ‘Thanks. I feel such a failure. I always prided myself on being a good mother; it was one of the few things I thought I’d done well.’
‘You are a good mum,’ Tash said warmly. ‘I can tell, the way you speak about your children. I’m sure Erica will see sense eventually.’
Cleo pulled a face. ‘I wish you could be right, but I’m not convinced. I feel like I’ve been divorced twice – first by my husband and now by my daughter, too.’