He gives me that face again.
‘Don’t even think about it.’
Since I am tired and want to get to bed, I eventually agree he can sleep on the sofa. I am mad with myself as I know I should make him leave, but the thought of the girls hearing that I made him go home when they so obviously wanted him here just takes the fight out of me. I tell myself it is just one night. But, still, it feels wrong having him here. This is my home, and he has never been a part of my life in this flat. This is the place I bought after he broke my heart, where I found refuge and worked hard to pick up the pieces after his devastating affair. Now he feels that he can walk back in, eat here, watch my telly and even sleep here. I am feeling very resentful towards him right now. How dare he do this to me!
I hurry to my room as he starts stripping off his shirt and trousers to sleep on the sofa in his underwear.
He laughs. ‘Why are you rushing off? It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.’ Even though he is technically right, and we were married for so many years, it feels incredibly sleazy as he says it, and I am shocked that he doesn’t seem to realise this.
I am glad to escape to bed where I read the goodnight message from Elias again. Then I scroll through the photos I took on the yacht, in restaurants, and of the scenery we enjoyed together. It is such a world away from Michael on the sofa in those stripy pants he insists on wearing that make him look like one of the Bananas in Pyjamas.
I look at Michael now and feel nothing. A year ago, I didn’t believe I would ever feel happy again, and I realise just how special Elias made me feel. I don’t need the yacht, the money, or the fancy locations, I just want to be back in his arms. I think of those muscles he has from all that manual work; his hands aren’t smooth like Michael’s, who works in an office, but they tell a story. Elias’s hands will always show how hard he has worked during his lifetime, and whilst he got lucky winning such a huge amount on the lottery, he also lost his precious wife, who he would have swapped any amount of money for.
Conversely, Michael has always lived an easy life. He landed his job with a good pension straight from school, he is fifty-five with both parents still alive, unlike mine, both lost before I was forty. He has no idea what it feels like to lose someone he loves to cancer, or how hard it is to work outside in all weathers as he sits inside his warm office enjoying intermittent tea breaks and nibbling on Hobnobs. When I close my eyes there is only one person who is on my mind, and it is certainly not my ex-husband.
I forget that Michael has stayed over until I stumble into my living room half asleep and see those long, familiar legs hanging off the edge of the sofa.
I bang the kettle and run the water as loudly as I can in the hope that I wake him up. I figure the sooner he is up, the sooner I can get him out of here. Eventually, I see his head stick up above the sofa.
‘Good morning, love.’ Michael cricks his neck and stretches out his arms, giving a large groan. ‘Would’ve been much comfier in the bed. Hardly slept a wink.’
‘Oh, that’s funny because you were snoring when I got up. Anyway, now you’re awake, it’s probably time to head home, hey?’
‘There’s no rush, is there? I thought we could take the girls down Mumbles for an ice cream. You know, like we used to when they were small.’
‘They’re grown up now. They don’t need an ice cream.’
‘Did someone say ice cream for breakfast?’ says Poppy, walking out into the living room in her pyjamas with one eye open and rubbing the other.
‘You heard right. You up for ice cream?’
‘Oh yeah. I’d love that. Let me wake up a bit first though.’
‘There’s no rush. We’ve got all day, haven’t we, Lucy?’
‘Well, no. I have to work.’
‘What? It’s not like you’ve got a proper job any more, is it? Or do you mean writing stuff on that laptop of yours? Surely you can do that anytime.’
I glare at Michael. ‘Well, I’ve given myself a deadline. I want to send it out to publishers soon, not keep it on my laptop forever. Anyhow, haven’t you got to be at work?’
‘Flexi-day.’
‘And Poppy. I thought you two were supposed to be on study leave?’
‘Yeah. Ice cream helps feed our brains, though.’
‘Ah, I see.’
‘Just like old times, hey, babe?’ grins Michael.
I walk out of the room before I scream at him in front of the girls. Oh boy, if they weren’t here now, he wouldn’t know what had hit him. I always promised myself that I would hide any contempt for Michael in front of the girls to protect them. Now he is sat in my lounge, insisting we spend the day together as if he has never done anything wrong in his life, and this promise is proving harder to keep than I could ever have imagined.
Jasmine runs after me.
‘Mam, I think Dad’s really trying. He’s learnt that he made a stupid mistake. He told us. Why don’t you give him a chance? Let’s just have a nice day with him.’
‘You’ve all got to respect that I’ve work to do today. I have a lot on. I’ll come for an ice cream with you – in my own car – and then I’m coming back to work.’
