On this morning, though, she knew immediately that something was wrong when she woke up. There were voices already in the other room. That was odd. She was always first to wake, would read a few chapters of her book, before creeping about, getting dressed in silence so she didn’t wake her parents.
She wandered through and saw Mum, face pale, the frown of desolation causing two deep lines between her eyebrows.
A glance to her right told her why. Dad was packing, throwing things in a suitcase. Again.
What was that? The third time? Maybe the fourth?
They’d be on holiday, supposedly for two weeks, and halfway through, Dad would have to leave because of some crisis with his Very Important Job.
Off he’d go, leaving just Caro and her mum to spend the second week alone. If Caro was being honest, she preferred it. At least then she felt like she had some company, albeit Mum would function like she was shrouded in a cloak of… not misery. Pointlessness. It was like there was no point being there, enjoying the holiday, making an effort, if Dad wasn’t there with her, and even Caro’s cajoling couldn’t quite make her smile reach her eyes.
Dad’s absence was a recurring theme that she hadn’t even acknowledged at the time. Her teachers thought she lived with just her mum, because Dad never once went to a parents’ night. Or a school show. Or a sports day. His Very Important Job didn’t allow it.
How many birthdays had he missed? How many bank holidays was he gone? And Christmas…
Another flashback. She was perhaps nine or ten. The house was decorated, the tree was up, Mum was singing along to the Christmas songs that were playing on the music channel on the TV. Dad was on his way back from… somewhere. She couldn’t remember where, but he was going to be home soon. They were going to have a fabulous Christmas together, just the three of them tonight, and then Mum’s family were all coming tomorrow for lunch. Auntie Pearl and Uncle Bob. Todd. It was going to be great.
The song changed to that one by Chris Rea, but Mum knew the words to that too, still singing along as she chopped the vegetables for tomorrow’s soup. Then the phone rang. It was before they had a mobile phone – just a house phone, with big push buttons to make a call, sitting on a side table by the couch.
‘Will you get that, Caro? It’ll be Auntie Pearl. She’s probably just remembered she’s to bring pudding tomorrow.’
Caro lifted the big red handset. ‘Hello?’
‘Caro, it’s Dad. Can I speak to your mum?’
The recollection jarred with Caro now. He never spoke to her like he was in the least bit interested. There was no, ‘Hello, darling, how are you? How’s school? What are you up to?’ Nothing. She hadn’t even registered it at the time – it was all she was used to – but looking back as an adult, she could see that it was strange. Cold.
‘Sure, Dad.’ She took the phone away from her ear. ‘Mum, it’s Dad!’
The expression on her mum’s face changed instantly. Her eyes shot to the starburst clock on the wall, then, like a stone statue crumbling, her features began to fold in on each other, her shoulders slumped, her whole demeanour deflated. A fewmoments ago, she was singing and laughing. Now she was dead woman walking.
She took the phone and Caro could only hear her side of the conversation.
‘Oh, Jack, no. But we’ve got everyone coming and we were so looking forward to…’ Pause, then all her annoyance evaporated, changed to sympathy. ‘No, I know it’s worse for you. I know. I’m sorry. Yes. I understand. I’ll just… miss you. No, we’ll be fine. Really. It’s fine. I love you. Yes, that would be great, even if you can only get five minutes on Boxing Day…’
And then the conversation ended and Caro knew what it meant. He wasn’t going to make it back. Something had happened in his Very Important Job that was going to keep him away for Christmas. Again.
Mum slouched on to the couch. No more singing, now there was just Mum, staring into space, looking like her world had fallen apart. Caro got up and went over to the kitchen area, took over chopping the vegetables for the soup. Mum wouldn’t get anything else done tonight. She’d just stay there, miserable, wishing that he would walk in the door and make it all better. It was only hours later that Caro realised he hadn’t asked to speak to her again to explain he wasn’t coming home, maybe even wish her a merry Christmas. Of course he hadn’t.
The waiter appeared back, took her dishes and coffee off a huge circular tray and placed them down in front of her with a flourish.
When he’d retreated, Caro realised that she’d lost her appetite.
That Christmas, like many more of the same, had come with a complete façade of merriment. Auntie Pearl and Uncle Bob and Todd had joined them as planned, and they’d had lunch, sang carols, played board games, sat downtogether between the main course and the pudding to watchTop of the Pops, but although mum’s mouth was arranged into a smile, she oozed unhappiness. It was like someone flicked off the buttons marked happy, joyous and engaged in life whenever Dad walked out of the door, and only flicked them back on when he came home. And no matter how much Mum tried to pretend, she wasn’t convincing anyone.
Had it all been a sham? Had that phone conversation been a lie, had everything he’d said and done for the last thirty years been an act to an unwitting audience of two?
It couldn’t be. This was the kind of thing you read about in those magazines that came with lurid headlines.‘My double life!’ ‘My husband was a bigamist!’ ‘One man, two wives!’
That kind of stuff wasn’t in her life. Was it?
And if it was, how was she going to find out? This was madness. Complete madness.
All thoughts of eating now gone, she pushed the plates back and pulled her iPad out of her satchel. The Wi-Fi password was on a blackboard on the wall, so she was logged in within seconds.
Facebook. Lila Anderson. She clicked on to her profile and immediately saw a new pic, only added a couple of hours ago. Lila, her platinum hair falling in a sheet of glossy perfection, her lips bright red, looking like a forties movie star, or that American pop star… what was her name… Gwen Stefani! That was it.
Anyway, there she was, pouting at the camera, announcing to the world that she was having a fantastic day.
