Hit and Run Page 2

“Sorry, no time.” She looks uncomfortable as she checks her watch. “I’m going to take Jack to school and then get on the road.”

  “But you only got here last night. Surely you can make time for a coffee?”

  “You know I’ve got plans.” She checks her reflection in my mirror on the kitchen windowsill. I always do my eyebrows in here as it’s a good light.

  “Mum, we need to talk.”

  “It’ll have to wait. I’ve got a long drive in front of me.” She winds a chiffon scarf around her neck. I have the intrusive thought of strangling her with it. “Where’s Rob?”

  “Upstairs.”

  Jack looks at the clock. “Granny Maggie, it’s after quarter to nine.” He knows all his o’clocks, halves and quarters. “I’ll be late for school if we don’t go now.”

  “Come on then.” Mum plucks her jacket from the back of a chair and picks her case up. “I’ll see you when I see you,” she nods towards me. I know she won’t hug me. She never has. She has no problem with grabbing me by the scruff of the neck or threatening to slap me though.

  “A couple of weeks then?” I’ve tried to talk to her. I can’t do any more. It would be easier if Dad didn’t insist on ringing landlines first, and mobile numbers as a last resort. Maybe this visit to Devon will be the one where she and Shane will split up. Her affairs are usually short-lived.

  “I’ll do my best Fiona. Come on then, Jack. Have you got your things together?” She ruffles his mousy-brown hair as he stands. It’s the same colour as Rob’s. Jack’s like a miniature Rob, with the same blue eyes, olive skin tone and lankiness.

  I remember when we had to empty Rob’s dad’s house a couple of years ago. Because it was a council house, they only gave Rob a month. I couldn’t leave him to do it on his own, and his dad’s death had hit him hard. Looking at old photos of Rob was like looking at Jack. They’re as close as Rob was to his dad. At least, they have been until recently.

  Rob has become suddenly preoccupied. I’m waiting for him to spill whatever is bothering him. He’s like that. He’ll only brood on things for so long, then his solitude or conscience will get the better of him.

  Perhaps, soon, he will let me know why he’s been meeting up with his ex from when he was younger, Bryony. I thought I was seeing things when I saw them leaving a café a fortnight ago. They didn’t look, well, together, but a man meeting his attractive ex-fiancée, without mentioning it to his wife will never bode well.

  “Where’s my coat?”

  “You don’t need one Jack. It’s cracking the flags out there. What’s his school called, Fiona?” Mum turns to me. “In case he forgets the way or something.”

  “The Whartons,” Jack replies. “It’s up the hill. I know the way.”

  “Remember what we talked about before,” says Mum, turning back from the kitchen door. “It’s my life. My business. I hope that’s the end of the matter.”

  Chapter 3

  Rob takes the milk from the fridge. “How long’s she staying?”

  “She’s on her way down to Devon today.” I raise my eyes from the counter I’m wiping, knowing he will have something to say.

  “One night! You’re joking. She’s still seeing that bloody man, I take it?” He slams the milk onto the counter.

  “Rob. Calm down. Yes, she is. I’m not getting involved, and neither are you.”

  “But you’re bloody covering for her again?”

  “I’ve no choice, have I? You know what it could do to Dad if he found out.” I take two cups from the dishwasher and slide them towards Rob. “Anyway, I’m sure it’ll blow itself out like it did last time. The man’s married. He’ll come to his senses.”

  “Your mother can have it away with half of Yorkshire if that’s how she wants to carry on. But without dragging us into it. God, I’ve got enough going on right now?”

  “Like what?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Really. What bothers me is her making you lie for her. She makes my skin crawl. Making out like she’s mother and granny of the year.”

  Things are often up and down between Rob and my mother, but the abruptness of his words makes me bristle. “I couldn’t cope with her here for two weeks, anyway. I wouldn’t want her here. She makes me feel like a child again.”

  “You need to get over that Fiona.” Rob swings around to face me. “Get a grip. You’re a grown woman with a son of your own now. Sort some counselling or something. Whatever it takes to stop letting that self-centred woman control you.”

  His voice is on the rise. I hate rows. I’ve got to calm this down. He’s every right to be annoyed, but I’m taken aback at how angry he seems to be.

  “It’s just a shame she’s not doing what she’s telling your dad. What is it? Spending quality time with her daughter and grandson? Making up for lost time?”

  “I’ve told you I wouldn’t want her here for any length of time, anyway. But it’s got nothing to do with you Rob.” I try to move past him, but he steps towards me, blocking my path.

  “Nothing to do with me! It’s bad enough what she’s doing to your dad,” he begins. “But if you think I’m going to stand back and watch as she emotionally blackmails you, I’m not. She’s had far too much control for too long.”

  I keep my tone low and even, hoping Rob will follow suit. I hate rows. “I know you mean well. But they’re my parents. I’ll deal with it.”

  “Whether or not you like it, I’m involved too. Jack’s my son. I’m telling you now Fiona. If Maggie doesn’t stop issuing threats and ultimatums, and doesn’t leave you out of it, I will tell your dad what is going on myself, when I answer the phone to him.”

  “You wouldn’t. You saw what happened before.” We face each other as opponents, rather than as husband and wife.

  “Fair enough. I’ll drive over then. Tell him to his face. Stay with him afterwards. I mean it Fiona. We are not lying to protect her.”

  “I’m not asking you to do anything.”

  “You’re asking me to lie if I answer the phone. Whilst she gallivants around at the other end of the country.”

  “Well, let the answerphone pick up then.” Dad’s always had the belief that it’s cheaper to ring the landline. Then I realise that if I were to simply unplug it, he’d have to ring my mobile, reducing the chances of Rob intercepting his call.

  “Fiona. For God’s sake.” He places his hand on my arm, but it’s a grip rather than a placating touch. “I can’t believe the hold that woman has on you. Let her go. She does absolutely nothing for you. And never has. You need to give her a wide berth.”

  He’s right, I know, but it still hurts, hearing it said out loud. “But Jack loves her. So she can’t be that bad.”

  “Jack’s seven years old.” He glances towards the picture of him on the fridge. “And easily won over with a new toy. Your mother knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s one of the most manipulative women I’ve ever met.”

  “I know.”

  “Then do the right thing Fiona.” Rob steps back from me now. “Tell her to go home. Sort her marriage out.”

  “I can’t tell her anything. She’s not coming back after dropping Jack off.”

  “She’s going straight to Devon? Selfish cow.”

  “She’s really unhappy Rob. And I don’t think she realises the effect she has on other people.”

  “I don’t give a shit how unhappy she is. She has no right expecting you to lie for her. I’ll tell her for you.”

  “No,” I blurt. “I know you’re right, but it needs to come from me. I stood up to her before - when we were upstairs, and I’ve got to keep doing it.”

  He shakes his head as he turns away. “Like I said, you need to see someone about this. You’re not a little girl anymore. And if you’re not careful, you’ll be hitting the bottle again.”

  I notice the pitying expression on his face, and the rarely felt kick-ass woman deep inside me fires. “No, I will not. You’ve room to talk anyway Rob. About lies and deceit.”

  “What
’s that supposed to mean?”

  “My mother isn’t the only person keeping secrets. I know there’s something going on, Rob.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Well, maybe a bike ride will be a good time for you to think about it. You said you’re off out to blow away the cobwebs. We’ll talk later.” Part of me wants to have it out with him now, but I’ve had enough this morning. I just want some peace.

  Rob reaches for his cycle helmet. “You need to talk to your mum first. Ring her. Or I’ll be speaking to your dad.”

  I sigh as the side gate clangs after him. He is right about my mother though. What the hell did I ever do to deserve her? I feel drained every time we part company, no matter how briefly I’ve been around her. If I had siblings to compare notes with, it wouldn’t be so bad. Dad is blindsided by her because he’s terrified of being on his own. He probably wouldn’t know what to do without her ordering him around all the time. It’s like he’s become institutionalised.

  I decide to give him a ring. Get in there first. There’s less chance of him ringing later and Rob answering then. I’ll speak to Rob again when he gets back. Hopefully, he will be in a better mood and I can persuade him to keep out of it. I want to speak to him about the Bryony situation too. I was planning to yesterday, after he was late back for the Sunday lunch I’d spent ages cooking, but Mum arrived.

  “Hi Dad, it’s me.” I walk through the kitchen and out of the conservatory door towards the garden swing. It’s too nice to be inside.

  “Who’s me?” He does it every time. He thinks it’s funny to pretend not to recognise my voice. I can’t be bothered going through the usual rigmarole of it today.

  “Me, Dad.” I lower myself onto the swing.

  “What’s up with you Fiona? You sound stressed. Your mother isn’t on your case already, is she?” I know what he’s getting at. At every given opportunity since Jack was born, whenever Mum gets the opportunity, she will criticise my parenting skills; she can never resist. She criticises everything, from how I feed and dress Jack, to his routine and activities.

  Then if it’s not that, it’s the inheritance. It’s not my fault that Grandma left me half a million. Dad decided at the time to respect his mother’s wishes and let me have it. Mum despised him for it. Grandma left him fifty grand as well, which meant there probably wouldn’t have been any grounds to contest the will. When I’d offered Dad a proportion of what I’d been left, he refused. “She adored you love,” he had said. “And it was you who took care of her when she was ill, not us. She wanted you to have it. It’s rightfully yours.”

  “I’m OK Dad. Mum’s taking Jack to school.” I’m not lying, am I? “Jack was delighted when she arrived last night.”

  “That’s nice dear. It makes me feel better. I’m rattling around the house, here on my own, but I’ll be used to it in a day or two. It’s a shame I couldn’t have come over with your mother.”

  “Oh, Dad.” I rock myself gently back and forth on the swing. I wish he could come and stay. At least he genuinely wants to spend time with us. He’s still got work commitments though and is still a few years away from retirement. Plus, Mum will have thought of a reason why he couldn’t have come over. “Are you not working today?”

  “Yes. Soon. I didn’t sleep so well last night. I never do when your mum’s not here.”

  “But you have your own rooms, don’t you; it shouldn’t be too much different?”

  “I’m not a fan of being on my own in the house.”

  I feel the weight of responsibility and I hope to goodness Mum’s affair doesn’t last much longer. That Dad never discovers it. He’s still fragile and sounds even more so today. He’s like this whenever Mum goes away, but he bounces back.

  “Sorry love.” My silence must give away my awkwardness. “I shouldn’t lay this on you. I’ll be fine. It’s great that you and Jack can spend some time with your mother. One of these days, I promise I’ll make it over to stay with her. I’m sure you can make room in that big house of yours.”

  “Course I can Dad.” I wonder, for a moment, if Dad is getting at something with the big house reference. But I doubt it. Mum has made me paranoid. I stand from the swing and busy myself dead-heading the flowerbeds as I wander around the perimeter of the garden. “Isn’t it gorgeous today?” I look into the sky, hoping that shifting his focus to the sunshine will cheer Dad up. I want to ask if he’s still on the antidepressants, if he’s got anyone he can talk to, but I know he’ll never open up to me. After all, I’ve had my own ghosts to fight. And still have.

  When Dad took his overdose, he was deeply ashamed and would never discuss it with me – I’m relieved that I persuaded him to continue with the counselling. The hospital which had pumped his stomach referred him. I know he’s got stuff stemming from his own childhood – something to do with his dad, something he’d not forgiven his mother for. I never got to the bottom of that though. I’ll mention it to him again, one of these days. I’m dying to know what this family secret is. Even Mum doesn’t seem to know.

  “It sure is. I might even have a beer in the garden when I get home later. Invite Dave around.”

  “That’s more like it.” I laugh. “Beer on a Monday.” I don’t drink anymore, thank God. I’m free of it. This is something that I don’t discuss with Dad. Secrets and lies keep the cogs of our family spinning.

  “Though Dave will probably be busy.” His voice is downbeat again. “What are your plans today? Are you doing something nice with your mum?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I’ll see what she says when she gets back.” In two weeks, I feel like adding, but I never would. I pray I can talk Rob around from his current stance on the situation. Dad would take it really badly.

  After saying goodbye to Dad, I wander around the garden, dead-heading the plants in the hanging baskets now, before padding barefoot back into the house. I catch sight of my reflection in the hallway mirror. I’ve lost weight since I stopped drinking and my face is less puffy.

  I’m trying to make more effort with my appearance again, wearing a bit of make-up, that sort of thing – not that Rob notices anymore. All he seems to care about is his life away from the house. His work, the golf course, getting out on his bike with his cycling friends – getting away from me no doubt. And now he thinks I’m even more pathetic because I can’t stand up to my mother.

  I don’t know if there’s anything I should know about Bryony. When I saw them together, it all looked platonic, but that was only one sighting of them. There’s no denying either that he’s gone cool on me lately. My gut is saying it should worry me.

  I move things around in the kitchen and dining room, sliding pots into the dishwasher and wiping the sides down. The house is pretty clean; I bottomed it as soon as I discovered my mother was coming, whilst preparing the Sunday dinner at the same time. I don’t know why I had bothered; Rob had been nearly two hours late back for it. I see his phone flash on the side. It’s unusual for him to have left his phone behind, very unusual.

  Incoming Call – Bryony. I’m sorely tempted to answer it, but something stops me. Maybe ignorance is bliss. I can’t get into his phone, but I can see the notifications on his lock screen. He has missed three calls from her. What’s going on? Prior to meeting his first wife Denise, he was engaged to Bryony. They were together for several years. But that was such a long time ago.

  Speak of the devil. There’s a message from Denise, sent just after seven this morning. Thanks for letting Simone down yet again, it begins. You should try watching a ten-year-old waiting for her da- then it cuts off. The phone needs unlocking to read the rest.

  Rob has always said marrying Denise was the biggest mistake he ever made. They got together not long after his first engagement was broken off. Bryony had wanted travel and freedom – Rob wanted money and career.

  Rob felt he had to marry Denise after she became pregnant with Simone. He later discovered the pregnancy was deliberate but didn’t learn this until
after their wedding. His marriage to her consequently only lasted two years. At least he’s beating that record with me. There’s been no love lost between me and Rob’s ex. And I can just about tolerate Simone, Rob’s whining ten-year-old, as long as it’s in small doses. She’s not too keen on me either, but we seem to have developed an unspoken agreement to keep out of one another’s way.

  What I want to know is why Bryony is so desperate to contact Rob. I feel like looking her number up and ringing her back. I should have answered the phone when I had the chance, but really, I don’t want to know the truth. Maybe I’m more like Dad than I care to admit.

  There’s the start of an email from an employment agency on Rob’s screen. He can’t be looking for another job. The subject line states, Executive Director of Finance. It must be spam or something. There are three missed calls from an unknown number. It’s not even ten o’clock. His phone is having a busy morning. Unlike him, out on his bike, in his own little bubble. He pretends to be all caring, getting involved in this situation with my mother, but I know that he’s simply trying to deflect the attention from himself. From his recent behaviour and distance, I know there is something going on with him. I grab my handbag and car keys. I need to get out of this house.

  * * *

  I had a moment when I doubted my plans.

  I even pulled up at the side of the road.

  There was a final chance to change my mind.

  But deep down, I knew what had to be done.

  Chapter 4

  I settle on my sun lounger with a cup of tea and a book. I love my peaceful afternoons and usually get through a novel every two or three days. It’s my escape into a more exciting life. I’ve got an hour before I need to collect Jack. He’s going to be so disappointed when I arrive, instead of Granny Maggie. I imagine her now, she’ll be nearing Devon, without a care in the world, not giving a toss about the stress she’s putting me under, and as for Dad, she won’t give him a second thought.