‘Dad,’ says Rachel, throwing her arms around him.
‘Oh Rach, sweetie,’ he says and his face crumbles in a way I’ve never seen it crumble before. This is Nate, my alpha male husband, and he’s crying, actually crying. He cried when both children were born, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen this before, not since.
Then he turns and looks at me.
‘Marin,’ he says, and he knows I know. And at that moment I have to choose, because there’s a choice: I can turn around and walk away, or I can walk over to him and try to fix this for Rachel and Joey and our family. And there’s no choice. Strangely, weirdly, there’s no choice. I thought I’d go in first and shout at him if he was awake and I knew I couldn’t. Now seeing him with Rachel crying into his shoulder, I can’t. I lean over and kiss him on the lips.
‘Gave us all quite a fright.’
‘Oh Marin,’ he says and he pulls me closer. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ he says.
‘It’s not your fault, Dad,’ says Rachel, ‘people have heart attacks.’
‘Exactly,’ I say.
Who knows what kind of stabilising, calming, tranquillising medication he’s on? I don’t want him saying, I’m sorry I was with Bea last night when I was brought in. One of us is going to have to be strong here, and it’s going to be me.
‘There’s nothing to be sorry for,’ I say. ‘Tell us what the doctors have said to you?’
‘I’m having an angiogram this afternoon and then, depending on what they see, stents inserted in two places.’
‘Whatever happens you’re going to be fine,’ I say, sounding weirdly like my mother, who makes pronouncements.
‘I love you, both of you, both my girls,’ he says, tearful again. ‘Where’s Joey?’
‘We thought we’d wait until we saw you were OK.’
‘Oh I want to see him.’
‘I’ll ring April, bring him in, just for a moment, we don’t want to tire you out.’
‘OK.’
And as I look at him there in bed I think, it’s going to be OK, we’re going to get through this. I’m going to make sure we are going to get through this. I’m not letting my family fall apart.
40
Bea
Luke is delighted when I pick him up that afternoon.
‘Sausage did a poop outside,’ he tells me happily as I drive him home from school.
‘On the grass and everything! Shazz doesn’t mind. She says she’s cleaned up lots of my and Raffie’s poop when we were small. I said yuck!!!!’
I am exhausted and shaking, so shaky, in fact, that I am probably a danger in the car but still, we drive home slowly and as Luke chatters, I think about everything that’s happened.
I, Bea, have cheated on my dear friend, Marin, with her husband, and I have destroyed her. What sort of a person am I?
‘Mum, are you OK? You look sad,’ says Luke suddenly.
I almost haven’t the energy to skip into Mummy mode and lie, but I do: it’s my instinct. Protect my child. Keep him safe by making him the focus of my life and in the process, make him fatherless because he’s never had a chance to have another father figure and also, make myself so lonely I actually sleep with the first man who really holds me in a loving way sinceJean-Luc died.
What sort of evil person am I?
‘I’m sleepy,’ I say, faking a giant yawn.
Finn’s Mini is parked outside ours when we get there and instantly I know that Marin has phoned him.
