The day started like any other. Ezra crept into their bed at his usual 5.30 in the morning, his little hands sneaking round Sara’s neck, his head nuzzled into her shoulder as he mumbled a sleepy ‘Are you awake, Mummy?’
She pretended she wasn’t, hoping he might settle and drift off to sleep for another couple of hours.
He gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. ‘I love you, Mummy,’ he said in a stage whisper. She opened her eyes and looked into his four-year-old face, his skin lit by the chink of light that slid across the room from the open doorway into the hall.
‘Love you too, little smudge.’ She kissed him on the nose and cuddled him to her for a moment before whispering, ‘Come on, let’s go downstairs, shall we?’
She knew from experience if she didn’t move now, Ezra’s voice would grow louder, the questions would start, and Matt would get cranky about being woken up so early. Matt was a night owl, rarely coming to bed before midnight, whereas Ezra was an early bird, and the two things added a new dimension to Sara’s marriage as she tried to juggle both of their needs.
At least Sophia and Amelia – or Milly, as she preferred to be called – were old enough at fourteen to look after themselves in the mornings and help a bit around the house. As identical twins, they reflected a mirror image of each other, inheriting their father’s angular face, light brown hair and wide-set grey eyes. They’d always been a tight unit, two halves of a whole, making Sara feel a bit redundant as a mother at times because they relied on each other so much. Ezra, though, took after her in looks, with his wavy black hair and almond-shaped brown eyes.
Unlike his sisters, Ezra was a cuddly child, a sensitive little soul, who loved spending time with her. He’d been a surprise baby, born when the girls were ten and they’d had no plans to expand their family. Not a mistake, more of a bonus, a joyful addition to the clan. It had meant putting her own plans on hold for a while longer, but Matt had been ecstatic to finally have a son. ‘A boy to play football with, do all the rough-and-tumble stuff,’ he’d said. Which was ironic, given that the girls were both mad keen on football and played in the local team while Ezra, so far, seemed to hate anything physical. He liked to think and question and do crafty things and bake cakes and draw. Not exactly the son Matt had hoped for, whereas he possessed many of the qualities Sara had expected but not found in her daughters.
She got out of bed and clasped Ezra’s hand in hers, putting her finger to her lips to make sure their exit was as quiet as possible. Funny how life turns out, she thought, a warm glow spreading through her at the thought of her family and their little peculiarities.
They padded down the stairs and into the lounge, where Sara flicked on the lights and Ezra ran to the art box and opened the lid. ‘I’m going to draw you an elephant,’ he declared, while she stretched and yawned and wandered through the dining area into the open-plan kitchen.
The new layout downstairs was still a source of joy to her, inspired by a TV makeover series, and although it had cost an alarming amount of money and meant they’d had to extend their mortgage, it had made life so much easier. Three rooms had become one big L shape, where she could cook and keep an eye on Ezra and help the girls with their homework all at the same time. They’d even gone for bifold doors opening into the back garden, a luxury that Matt had persuaded her would add value to their Victorian end-of-terrace property should they ever decide to sell. After years of struggling with ill-fitting cupboard doors and drawers that kept coming off their sliders, even the simple act of watching the cutlery drawer close on its own made her smile. Simple pleasures, she thought, grinning to herself as she opened the new dishwasher to retrieve her favourite mug.
Matt had bought her a coffee machine for her birthday, which had become her prized possession and something of a lifesaver with these early starts and the lack of sleep. She put in a pod, topped up the water and switched it on, breathing in the scent of freshly brewed coffee as it spluttered and gurgled into her mug. She was hoping Ezra would sleep a little later once he started school in September, but that was still months away, and in the meantime, she wondered if she should go and ask the doctor for something to help with her insomnia. Then she remembered her sister Hailey’s experience with sleeping pills, how she’d become addicted and struggled to get herself right again, and decided that the new yoga class at the community centre might be a better alternative.
‘Mummy, look!’ Ezra called as he came running up to her with a piece of paper flapping in his hand. She took the drawing and gazed at the grey squiggles.
‘That’s lovely,’ she said, unable to remember what he’d said he was going to draw. It could be any number of things and he got offended if she didn’t know what his pictures were supposed to be. ‘Let’s put it on the fridge with the others, shall we?’
He jumped up and down, clapping his hands, excited to see his artistic efforts displayed.
‘Are you ready for breakfast?’ Sara asked, pulling a carton from the fridge and pouring milk into his Thomas the Tank Engine mug, the only one he’d drink from. He guzzled it down, licking the white moustache from his upper lip.
‘Not yet. I’ve got more drawing to do.’ And off he went, back to the art box. She watched him for a moment as he carefully chose the right colours for his next picture.
She picked up her coffee mug and cradled it to her chest, a to-do list for the day writing itself in her mind. So many things to remember with three kids, a husband and a house to manage. Especially now she’d started working part-time as well, something she’d been desperate to do, if only for a bit of adult interaction. But meeting everyone’s needs, including her own, was like herding cats, and she inevitably forgot things. She sipped her coffee, relishing the taste, the warmth of it in her throat. The best cup of the day.
She watched Ezra, his tongue poking out as he worked away, and knew she wouldn’t change a thing; even if it was a bit chaotic and hard work, it was worth every minute. Matt and the kids were the centre of her world, and keeping them all happy was her job, her reason for being. After the shambles of her own upbringing, it was the focus of every decision she made, and she was determined that her children would have the stability she’d craved when she was growing up.
I’m never going to turn into my mother, she promised herself. However hard things get, we’ll make it work.
Her childhood memories were something she refused to visit voluntarily. Instead they wormed their way into her brain at night, waking her in the form of nightmares, chilling her heart. She and her sister had a tacit agreement to never discuss it. It was the past; they’d got through it and it was best forgotten. That was the theory. But how did you forget being taken into care from the age of six?
The first time, it was eight months before she was allowed to go back and live with her mum again and was reunited with Hailey. After that, it was a cycle that was repeated with a dreadful regularity until she was eighteen and was spat out of the care system.
Life changed when she went to university, funded from a bursary for underprivileged children. A label she’d felt was tattooed on her forehead, making her a silent teenager, a wisp of a girl who slid in and out of rooms unnoticed, just keeping herself to herself and studying with a grim determination to make a better life.
She shuddered, shaking the thoughts from her mind, letting them fall away as she gazed around the beautiful room they had created, the wonderful home she and Matt had worked hard to afford. She had everything she’d ever wished for and never expected to achieve. Don’t ever take it for granted, she cautioned herself, aware that her tiredness had made her snappy recently. Her gaze settled on the studio portrait that hung on the dining-room wall. My family. Her heart swelled with love as her eyes moved from face to face. They were all that mattered, and she knew she’d do anything, anything at all, to keep them happy.
‘I’ll be late tonight,’ Matt said, as he grabbed his bag and took his car keys from the hook next to the back door. He was a snappy dresser when it came to work, one of those men who actually looked good in a suit, his brown hair kept short at the sides, combed back on top, his face clean-shaven, bucking the facial-hair trend.
‘What? Again?’ Sara couldn’t hide her desperation. ‘I’m supposed to be going to see that tribute band tonight with Hailey.’
Matt stopped and turned. ‘Christ, is that tonight?’ He looked surprised, even though she’d been talking about it only the night before, reading out the rave reviews, her excitement mounting.
‘Yes.’ She closed the door of the dishwasher more forcefully than usual and dried her hands on a tea towel. ‘It is tonight. I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks. You know I have.’
It wasn’t often she went out, and managing to coordinate a date with her sister, free from the distraction of children, had become as rare as hen’s teeth. Hailey worked for a charity that supported young people in crisis; they were short-staffed and her work hours were variable, as she had to be on call. Recently, every time they’d tried to go out for an evening together, just the two of them, an emergency had flared up and Hailey had cancelled. But this time, she’d promised Sara she’d move heaven and earth to make sure they got to the gig. Now it was Sara who would have to cancel.
Matt pulled an apologetic face. ‘It’s work, I’m afraid. I told you we lost that big contract and it’s all hands on deck to try and pull more work in.’ He glanced towards the door, keys jingling in his hand. ‘I know I’m working stupid hours, but I’ve got no choice.’
‘Oh Matt, we’ve had this organised for months.’ Her words clogged in her throat and she looked at the floor while she tried to wrestle a surge of emotion under control. ‘You know that. And I told you—’
The door slammed shut.
She looked up and hurled the balled-up tea towel at the space where her husband had been standing, snarling with frustration. Yet again, her plans had to make way for his. For the last few months he’d been working late most weekdays, except for Thursdays, when he went to football training with the girls after work, an activity he magically managed to make time for. Then there was the obligatory Saturday out with the lads, going to the match and then on somewhere after. No question. No interruptions to his plans.
She took a deep breath, reminded herself they relied on his income to pay the bills and it wasn’t his fault if he had to work long hours. But still… She’d been really looking forward to a few hours of proper relaxation, a time to kick back, be herself and forget for just a little while that she was a mother and a wife, not to mention administrator at the busy community centre.
With an exasperated sigh, she slipped her phone out of her back pocket and dialled her sister to tell her there’d been a change of plan, leaning on the worktop while it rang.
‘Hiya!’ Hailey sounded cheery and upbeat this morning, which made Sara cringe. She hated cancelling plans. ‘How’s things?’
‘Oh… you know.’ It wasn’t possible to explain in a sentence how things really were. That would take a few hours and probably a bottle of wine for Dutch courage if she was going to be completely honest. ‘Fine, everything’s fine.’ From the despondent tone of her voice, this was obviously a long way from the truth.
‘Well, you don’t sound fine. You sound like someone’s stolen your secret chocolate stash.’ Hailey laughed. Sara burst into tears. ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ Hailey said, suddenly concerned.
Sara sniffed, unable to speak for a moment, and when she finally found her voice, it sounded thin and weedy, not like her at all. ‘I’m going to have to cancel tonight.’
‘Oh no! I’ve been looking forward to seeing Fake That for ages!’
‘Matt’s got to work late.’
Hailey cursed under her breath, then said, ‘It’s your day off, isn’t it? Are you at home? I’m in town, not far away, and I’m kicking my heels for half an hour or so, waiting for social services to get their shit together. Shall I come round?’ Sara tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but couldn’t seem to manage it, her silence enough of an answer for her sister. ‘I’ll be there in ten,’ Hailey said, before she rang off.
Sara put her phone back in her pocket, grabbed a piece of kitchen roll and wiped her wet cheeks, slightly panicked. What have I done? She generally kept her problems to herself, reluctant to open up to Hailey, who could be like a Rottweiler when it came to protecting her from upset. She didn’t want her sister having a go at Matt. It’s not his fault there are problems at work. The poor man was slogging away day after day to keep them comfortable, and Sara’s minimum-wage job was little real help where their finances were concerned. In fact, once you took out childcare costs, there wasn’t much left.
It’s not about money, though, is it? She gave herself a mental shake, pushing her negative thoughts to the back of her mind where they belonged. She sniffed and took a couple of deep breaths to chase away the tears. It’s just tiredness, she told herself. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, you silly woman.
She scanned the room, her heart giving a little skip when she registered the mess, the detritus of family life littering every flat surface. She leapt into action, scurrying round shoving things out of sight as best she could. No time to do anything about the dust, or the dirty windows, or the crumbs on the floor, she decided as she bundled an armful of children’s clothes behind the sofa.
As much as she loved her sister, they weren’t in and out of each other’s houses, and in Sara’s eyes this was a bit of a godsend. Hailey was a complete neat freak, thanks to the training she’d received from one of her foster parents. She’d become worse now that her daughter, Cassie, had gone off to uni and she was on her own. She liked everything lined up just so, every surface clean, floors spotless, windows gleaming, making Sara feel completely hopeless in the home-making department.
Hailey lived in Skipton, ten miles or so from Sara’s home town of Ilkley, and her work took her all over the local area. The fact that she happened to be nearby at the very time Sara called was a coincidence; the last thing she’d expected was for her sister to turn up for coffee and a chat. ‘I’m fine. Everything’s fine,’ she muttered under her breath as she finished her flurry of tidying. Hailey had her own struggles and didn’t need Sara whining about problems that would seem pathetic in comparison. Not to mention all those youngsters she worked with and their mountains of troubles. No, she didn’t need anything more to worry about.
Sara dashed upstairs and changed out of her joggers and the T-shirt that had Ezra’s milk splattered down the front. Thank goodness he was at nursery in the mornings now and the intense parenting of those first few years was behind her. She found a pair of jeans and a clean top that didn’t cling to the stubborn roll round her stomach, which had arrived during pregnancy and refused to go away. She ran a brush through her shoulder-length black hair, smeared a bit of foundation on her blotchy face, patted a bit of powder over the top and immediately felt better.
She studied herself in the mirror. Turned this way and that. Yes, she was a bit heavier than when she’d met Matt, but she’d only been twenty then, and after three children, it wasn’t surprising that her stomach muscles weren’t what they used to be – especially after bearing twins. Her hair still shone, her complexion was good, and although her eyes were a bit pink round the edges from her earlier tears, she knew that would quickly fade. ‘Not bad for thirty-eight,’ she reassured her reflection with a satisfied nod.
The ringing of the doorbell sent her running downstairs to find Hailey on the doorstep, looking anxious, frown lines creasing her forehead.
‘Come in.’ Sara stepped to one side to let her sister pass. ‘You didn’t have to dash over. I know you’re working, and I was just having a moment, you know…’
‘Get the coffee on,’ Hailey said as she headed for the kitchen. ‘And stop trying to cover things up.’ She dumped her bag on the floor and pulled out a chair at the table, looked at her watch. ‘I’ve got a meeting in… about half an hour.’
Sara busied herself getting mugs from the cupboard, milk from the fridge. ‘I’m not covering things up,’ she said with a little laugh, as if the idea was ridiculous.
Hailey snorted, then her expression softened. She brushed a hand over her short, spiky hair, which was naturally ginger but currently dyed magenta – a striking contrast with her pale complexion. ‘Come on, get your fancy machine going and tell me what’s up.’ She tilted her head, slate-grey eyes assessing her little sister. ‘I can tell when something’s bothering you.’
Sara leant a hip against the worktop while the coffee machine gurgled and hissed its way through its cycle, wondering what to say, whether Hailey would think she was being stupid. She turned and gave her a sheepish smile. ‘I think you’re here under false pretences. Just me being tired, you know, with all these early starts, and now that I’m working…’
Hailey’s job took her to the heart of troubled families and she was a keen observer of human behaviour. She could tell when people were lying, but would never judge. Not when she’d had such a difficult childhood herself. She knew things went wrong, that people made mistakes then had to live with them. She knew that just because a child might be neglected it didn’t mean they weren’t loved. She of all people understood complexity and was absolutely the best person to talk to about problems. But Sara felt awkward laying her marriage bare for somebody else to inspect, even if that somebody was her sister.
She took the first full mug from the machine and set it going to make a second one. How much should I tell her? she wondered, then caught her sister’s eye as she placed her coffee on the table and made a decision.
‘He’s never home, Hailey. Always working late.’ She hesitated, eyes firmly on the floor. ‘It’s not just that, though. When he is home, he’s always on his computer. Very secretive, like he’s chatting to someone, you know?’ She swallowed, a swell of emotion taking her by surprise, and when she spoke again, her voice was little more than a whisper. ‘He doesn’t see me any more. It’s like I’m invisible. The housekeeper, here to look after him and the kids. I don’t feel like we’re a partnership. That closeness we had – it’s gone.’
Hailey stared at her, mouth gaping in astonishment. ‘Are you kidding? That man thinks the sun shines out of your arse.’
Sara huffed and went to get the second mug of coffee from the machine. ‘No, he doesn’t.’
‘In all the years I’ve known him, and that would be… what?’ She scrunched up her nose while she did the calculation. ‘Eighteen years now? I’ve never heard him say a bad word about you. Not one. How many wives can say that?’
Sara came and sat at the table, her mug cradled in her hands, determined now to lay out all the facts.
‘You only think that because he hasn’t said anything in front of you.’ Her mouth twisted from side to side. ‘We have our moments. Disagreements, just like any other couple.’ Hailey raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. Sara continued. ‘He’s been really snappy and short with me recently, like there’s something on his mind. A secret.’ She leant forward. ‘There’s something he’s not telling me. I know it. And it’s making me wonder…’
Hailey frowned. ‘Wonder what?’
‘Well…’ Sara bit her lip, hardly daring to speak her thoughts out loud because that would make them real. ‘Do you think he might be having an affair?’
Hailey sat back in her chair, mouth opening to speak before she closed it again. She picked up her mug and sipped at her coffee while she thought. ‘How long’s he been like this?’
‘I’d say it must be three months now.’
‘And have you spoken to him about it?’
Sara gave an exasperated sigh. ‘It’s never the right time. I just seem to annoy him, and I don’t want an argument. Don’t want the kids getting upset. Poor Ezra hates raised voices, you know that. Gets himself all worked up.’
Hailey frowned. ‘So who do you think he’s having an affair with? Have you any clues? Or is this just a wild guess to rationalise his behaviour?’
Sara shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But I can’t get the idea out of my head. It seems the only explanation.’
Hailey put her mug down and leant forward. ‘Is it, though?’ She raised an eyebrow.
Sara scowled. ‘What’s your theory then?’
‘Maybe he’s telling you the truth. Maybe he is just working late. I mean, he’s a bit alpha male, isn’t he? Thinks his job is to bring home the money and yours is to look after the house and the kids. Perhaps his boss is putting pressure on him and he can’t say no.’
Sara considered this for a moment. Hailey was right about Matt’s black-and-white view of marriage, instilled in him by an armed-forces upbringing, his father coming from a family with a long tradition of men who’d gone off to fight in wars and women who’d stayed at home.
‘Look what a fuss he made a few weeks ago when you started work and Ezra went to nursery. He didn’t like that, did he?’
Sara pursed her lips. Her sister was right; it had been quite a tussle of wills. Done in the most civilised of ways, of course. Not all-out war, but sniper fire over the cornflakes. No obvious upset of any kind, apart from the clenching of her teeth as his barbed comments found their mark, wounding her. Eventually she’d compromised and set her sights much lower than she would have liked. Instead of looking for a job that would use her business studies degree, she’d decided to seriously consider the offer of part-time work at the community centre.
She remembered the night well, having shipped the kids off to Hailey and made a special dinner for her and Matt so they could have a proper chat without the children listening in.
She’d said her piece, the one she’d rehearsed a dozen times that day, and he’d sat very still, gazing at her across the table as she laid it all out, making the point that she’d put her career on hold, spent fourteen years at home, and now felt a bit claustrophobic. Also, she’d argued, it would be good for Ezra to start at nursery part-time because he needed to get used to being away from her before he started school in September.
Matt had reached for her hand across the table. ‘I suppose it makes sense, and I want you to be happy, love. So if you need to work…’ He smiled. ‘A local part-time job seems the best idea. As long as it doesn’t get in the way of looking after the kids, and it doesn’t make you too stressed, well, I’m fine with it.’
Hailey’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘For what it’s worth, I really haven’t got Matt down as a cheater. I mean, the way he was brought up, it’s just not something he’d even think about, is it?’
Sara chewed her lip as she considered her sister’s words. Although Matt had a strong bond with his parents, she didn’t know them very well. Their home was in Cyprus now, a place where they’d lived for a time during his father’s armed service. Both of them suffered from arthritis, and the climate was a blessing for their health, but it meant she and Matt didn’t see much of them, and most of their interactions were by Skype rather than face to face.
‘Hmm. You’re right that his parents really drummed it into him that marriage was for life. In fact, when he proposed, he said he’d always be true to me, and told me that I shouldn’t accept unless I would totally commit to our relationship.’ Sara picked up the teaspoon and stabbed it into the sugar bowl, at a loss to know why things had suddenly changed between them. ‘But right now, it’s not working. Even when he’s here, it’s like his mind’s somewhere else.’
‘You can’t go jumping to conclusions, though.’ Hailey reached out and took the spoon from Sara’s hand, moving the sugar bowl out of her reach, much as one might do with a child. ‘Communication, Sara. That’s where most marriages go wrong. People not talking to each other. If you want to find out what’s going on, you’ll have to ask him. Just be straight. What harm can it do?’
Sara looked at her sister and gave a rueful laugh. ‘What harm? You haven’t seen him when…’ She stopped herself, sucked in a breath and chose her words carefully. ‘You know what I’m like about confrontation. After everything with Mum…’ She stopped herself, lips pressed together. ‘I’m not like you. I can’t let it bounce off me. It stresses me out. So I’m not going to pick a fight until I know the facts.’
Hailey leant across the table and gave her hand a comforting squeeze. ‘I know. It’s okay, don’t get yourself upset.’ She smiled. ‘If it’s facts you need, then let’s do a bit of sleuthing. If he’s supposed to be working late tonight, I’ll drive by his office and see if there’s anyone still there. How about that? Now Cassie’s off at uni, I’ve nobody to go home to.’ A flash of sadness crossed her face and she looked away, gulped down the rest of her coffee.
Sara knew Hailey was struggling a bit without her daughter ar. . .
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