Rope Ladder
Ginny’s heart beat so fast she thought it might burst out of her chest. Her mind spun as she strode from room to room, worrying about Adrian. Was he going through some kind of midlife crisis or breakdown? How could she help him? Claiming he wanted a divorce was ridiculous. They’d spent their entire adult lives together and were a family. They hardly ever argued. Sure, they’d both been busy with other things, but it was good not to live in each other’s pockets all the time. It gave them things to talk about.
This was so unlike her husband. He usually hid his troubles away, or let them run off him like water from a waxed raincoat. When his dad died, a couple of years ago, Adrian didn’t show any outward signs of grief. He went on a walking holiday with his school friend Dave, trekking up the highest mountains in England, Scotland and Wales. He threw himself into his job and never said a word to Ginny about how he was feeling. Could his outburst be the aftermath of his grief finally showing through?
Adrian was her rock. He’d been by her side, helping with her breathing exercises when she gave birth to Phoebe. He’d joined her for the endless night feeds where they both yawned and marveled at their daughter’s tiny hands clenching as she suckled. He’d held Ginny’s hair back on holiday when she was sick after drinking too many strawberry daiquiris during the cocktail happy hour. She’d never been able to judge how many drinks were too many, especially when they tasted of fruit.
Ginny sat stiffly on the sofa, listening for the sound of Adrian’s key in the door. She didn’t text or phone him, wanting to give him some time to come to his senses. Hopefully, a walk around the town with his suitcase would help him to calm down.
The clock ticked, the air cooled and Ginny rubbed her arms. It started to rain outside and her stomach felt as small and hard as a hazelnut.
At two in the morning, she eventually forced herself to go to bed. She tossed and turned, tangled up in the bed sheets. Her chest was hot and clammy, then she was shivery and cold. Her hormones often ran riot at night and Adrian was contributing to their chaos.
She finally drifted off into a fractured sleep by telling herself he’d be back home when she woke up. He’d mutter, “Sorry,” and they’d hold each other tightly and talk things over.
However, when Ginny woke at 4:30 a.m., she was still alone. Her self-control cracked and she clutched her phone.
Where are you?she texted. Let’s talk. I’m sure we can work things out.
Adrian didn’t have a big social circle compared to the wide array of people Ginny had amassed from school, her various counseling and advice jobs over the years, and from being a mum. His main friends were Dave and his wife, Linda.
Ginny waited but Adrian didn’t reply.
As the sun rose, the sight of his pillow all plumped up without a dent made her queasy with worry.
She lay in bed and waited until 8:00 a.m. to ring him. When he didn’t pick up his phone, she called Dave at home instead.
Linda answered. She was a playgroup assistant who spoke to Ginny like a naughty three-year-old and the two women had never bonded.
“Hi, is Adrian there?” Ginny asked, adopting the casual manner she used to make hair appointments.
“Yes, he’s here,” Linda said curtly.
Ginny screwed her eyes shut with relief. “Great, that’s good.” She took a moment. “Can you put him on the line, or ask him to call me?”
Footsteps sounded as if Linda was moving to a different room. A door closed. “It’s not a good time. He doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”
Ginny’s irritation rose. Linda sounded like she was enjoying her self-appointed role of Adrian’s protector. “I’m his wife, not a patient asking for a doctor’s appointment,” she said. “Please tell him that.”
“He wants some time alone.”
“Ineedto speak to him...”
“You’re not listening to me, Ginny,” Linda said. “He’ll call you when he’s ready.”
“But—”
“Sorry, I have to go to work.” Linda hung up.
Ginny scowled at the phone and threw it across the bed. What had Adrian told his friends about her? She stared up at the ceiling for a couple of hours in a daze. When the doorbell rang, breaking the silence, she pulled on her dressing gown and ran downstairs, hoping to find Adrian waiting on the other side of the door.
Instead, a postman handed a pile of packages to her. Ginny sighed as she clutched them to her chest and carried them upstairs.
Somehow, watching TV shopping channels and browsing online sales had become addictive to her. She found classy Italian leather handbags, new face serums and cordless vacuum cleaners with fantastic suction power impossible to resist.
Many of the things she bought disappointed her and it was a hassle to return them, so Ginny hid them on the top shelf in her wardrobe behind a pillow, out of Adrian’s sight.
Back in her room, Ginny opened the parcels and couldn’t remember ordering Luscious Locks hair thickening lotion, or vitamins especially tailored to her age and lifestyle. A pair of leopard print heels looked exactly like ones she already owned. There was a contraption that used sonic waves to firm jowls and a “miracle” under-eye cream. It was the kind of stuff she needed to look and feel better for Adrian’s return.
