‘I don’t or I wouldn’t ask, would I?’
‘Microwave the casserole portions for about three or four minutes, maybe five from frozen,’ she instructed. ‘Stir after to avoid the hotspots or you’ll burn your mouth.’ With any luck.
She put the last of the containers into the freezer. He’d hate using the microwave and it gave her another little flicker of gratification. He’d always sneered at reheated leftovers unless they were done in the oven, said they didn’t taste right.
‘Oh, you’d love it if I burnt myself, wouldn’t you?’
She rounded on him. ‘You know what I would love? If you could actually have an adult relationship with your own son!’
‘Ah, so that’s what this mood is about.’ He seemed smug he’d caused it.
‘What’s wrong with you?’
‘With me?’ He jabbed his healthy thumb towards his chest. ‘I want to spend time with him.’
‘On your terms. In Ireland. At Christmas.’
‘What’s so wrong with Ireland, for fuck’s sake?’ He shoved back a chair from the kitchen table but then fell against the table to steady himself.
She helped him into the chair.
‘Head rush,’ he claimed. ‘Catches me out sometimes.’
‘Are you still getting the headaches?’ It didn’t matter how much she didn’t like the man; she didn’t wish him harm and headaches following the type of accident he’d had might be a real cause for concern.
‘I’ve got the hospital appointment coming up, remember.’
‘I remember.’ She couldn’t forget, she had it marked on her wall calendar because it would be her who was taking him.
Sometimes she wondered if she’d ever get the distance she needed to start her own life properly without his hold over her. Her mistake had been to trust him in the first place, to let herself be taken in by him, but at the time, she hadn’t had much choice and she’d been grappling for help from someone, anyone. At first, he was kind to her; she felt special and seen. But over the years, that had changed and cracks soon began to show. They’d been subtle at first, little digs her way, especially his doubt about her career path, his certainty that she’d stay home with her child and forget about the silly idea of flying helicopters for a living.
‘You women might think you’re equals,’ he’d said to her when she started her pilot training. She’d been saving it to be a surprise, worked until she had enough money to start, thought it would show she wasn’t assuming he’d pay for her now they were married. ‘But you’re not. The fact is there are some jobs men are better at doing. Take my job, for example. Some of the female officers can’t handle the more boisterous prisoners, the rougher arrests; that puts them in danger and it’s a risky game.’
Part of Maya had tried to see it as Conrad being respectful of women and not wanting them to come to any harm, but she knew she was scrabbling for hope that her husband hadn’t just hinted that female officers were inferior, hinted that her wanting to become a pilot was ridiculous, a word he’d actually used to describe her career choice as time wore on. Her job as a pilot came under the same title ofjobs unsuitable for women.
After diminishing her career aspirations, then had come his affairs, his carelessness exposing him each time. Their marriage had been like a domino rally and once that first domino fell, the rest just kept getting knocked over until they were left with a mess she had to walk away from.
She took a deep breath and sat next to him at the table. He looked fine now he was seated. ‘Think about it, Conrad,about Ireland, I mean. A trip like that should bring two people together, not drive a bigger wedge.’
‘Is Isaac really so hellbent he doesn’t want to do it that he asked his mummy to intervene?’
The comment rankled but she bit the corner of her mouth to stop herself rising to the bait.
‘I’ve booked accommodation in a castle,’ Conrad went on. ‘And there’s a golf course. Talk about being bloody ungrateful.’
‘It’s not that he’s ungrateful; it’s because of the way things are between you both.’And for the last time, Isaac doesn’t like golf!She’d told Conrad enough times but as usual he hadn’t absorbed the fact, just kept thinking about himself.
‘Yeah, well, the way I see it, you’ll have him with you this summer, when he finally gets his backside home, so why can’t I have him over the winter?’
She ignored the dig about Isaac working up in Scotland, annoyed he didn’t see their son for the amazing, independent young man that he was. ‘He’s not a toy you shunt back and forth. Do you actually want him in your life? Because the way you’re going, you’re going to lose him.’
He sucked in breath between his teeth. ‘Now, now, Maya, that sounds a bit like a threat to me.’
‘It’s not a threat.’ But she had to get through to him. ‘You’re pushing him away. And a blood tie doesn’t mean a guarantee he’ll always be around, not when the emotions aren’t there.’
His good arm shot out and grabbed hold of hers. ‘Do not come between me and my boy.’
She yanked her arm away. ‘I’m doing everything I can to make sure you have a relationship with him!’
