I can hardly type back fast enough.
Hi! All the messages are coming through in one go. Think you musthave had problems with reception. I’m here! Hopefully my message has gotthrough to you by now xxx
I notice as I press send that he has now read the message I sent last night and is typing. So I start typing, and our messages end up a jumbled, excited, heap of miscommunication as we interrupt each other. However, there is no confusion when it comes to how much we already miss each other.
Elias tells me he will give me a ring this evening once he is back home. He is at the luggage arrival, and his bags have just shown up on the carousel. I tell him how much I look forward to hearing his voice again tonight. But, by lunchtime, my plans of a cosy evening waiting for Elias to call and then watching the start of a new TV drama are shattered.
It seems that Poppy and Jasmine have a few days’ study leave and are coming to stay. Poppy asks if I can get her favourite jeans that are in the wash pile ready for when she gets back. Like the dutiful mam I am, I throw them in the machine with the next load of washing.
When the girls turn up later on, I am surprised to see them carrying a takeaway. Usually, it’s a case of, ‘What’s for food, Mam?’ and then I have to think of something that could possibly appeal to their ever-changing tastebuds. I look at them impressed.
‘Wow, what’ve you got there?’
‘Chinese. From your favourite place.’ Jasmine looks pleased as punch.
‘Ooh, well that makes a nice change from having to cook tonight. I’m still shattered from the holiday. That’s so thoughtful. Thanks, girls.’
Poppy stands in the hallway, and I ask her why she isn’t coming in.
‘Hang on a minute. Dad’s on his way. He’s parking the car downstairs,’ she says.
‘Dad’s coming?’
‘Yeah, it was his idea to get you the takeaway. He thought you might be too tired to cook tonight.’
I hear those footsteps that I’d recognise anywhere coming up the corridor.
‘Alright, love,’ says Michael, grinning, as he approaches us in a colourful, floral shirt that I have never seen before. What happened to those plain white shirts he used to wear? He looks as though he is off on a Caribbean cruise and not picking up a takeaway at the local Chinese.
‘Umm, hi. I wasn’t expecting you to turn up tonight.’
‘No, well, I thought we could have a family meal, since the girls are home. They invited me, actually,’ he says.
Oh, girls! Why would you do that to me? He’s obviously brainwashed them with his ideas that I am most certainly not on board with.
As the girls and I unpack the takeaway, I notice my favourite dish. I look down at the stir-fried king prawns in a chilli and black bean sauce.
‘Did you see Dad got your fave?’ says Poppy.
‘Yes, thank you. Lovely.’ I let out a sigh. That’s the thing when you have been married to someone for so long. They know all your likes and dislikes.
Michael looks over at me like a puppy wanting attention. ‘See? I remembered.’
Does he want a Blue Peter badge for remembering my favourite food? I don’t mean to be harsh, but he wasn’t thinking of my favourite treats when he bedded some woman who lived round the corner. The bitterness and shock of that betrayal is difficult to move past, no matter how much he tries to make amends.
Poppy puts her arm around her dad.
‘You try your best, don’t you, Dad?’
Michael tops up my wine and smiles at me. ‘Anyway, I wanted to treat you because you had us all very worried. Going off on a boat like that. What are you like?’
‘I hope you can see that you were all overreacting. See, here I am. Safe back at home. Nothing bad happened. In fact, I had an amazing time, but I do appreciate your concern.’
I haven’t told them about the boat crash, or they might envisage me being hauled up to a helicopter on some ladder, with my thighs desperately gripping on. Now that would not be the best of sights for anyone’s imagination, and they would never let me forget it. It would be all the proof they needed to drill into me why I shouldn’t have gone off on that boat.
‘No, thankfully. I’m so glad. It made me realise that… Well…’ Michael gives me that wistful look again. He used to make the same face when he wanted sex.
‘Right. I’ll clear up the plates then, shall I?’ I say quickly.
