SHELLY
The days of training all fade into one. My eyes open through the dim half-light. Patting the Egyptian cotton bed linen next to me, I search our four-poster bed for my husband. We haven’t talked properly in days, both of us passing like ships in the night. My body physically hums for his, desperate to make up.
Dragging myself into our lavish en-suite, I lather myself under the power shower to remove the fake tan I hastily applied last night. Ben and I didn’t get called for our photo shoot last week, so it has to be today. I’m already golden from the Vilamoura trip but I can’t imagine there’s such a thing as too tan for TV.
Kneading shampoo through my hair, I wonder if Marcus deliberately didn’t come to bed, or if he accidentally slept on sofa, like he’s done so often lately. He’s so distracted at the moment. I don’t know if it’s me, us, the show, or something else entirely. When I found him asleep on the couch again, I didn’t have the heart to wake him.
The bathroom door clicks open and a sleepy-eyed Marcus loiters in the doorway.
‘Hi.’ His reserved features stretch into a strained smile and my heart melts. From his demeanour, it seems he might have gotten over the dancing arrangements.
‘Hey.’ The water cascades over my head and across my face. Rubbing my eyes, I beckon him into the shower with me. He hovers in the doorway for a split second, undecided. That split second, his hesitation, it speaks volumes.
My husband never turns down sex. Ever. And it’s been over a week. Utterly unheard of for us.
When he abruptly turns his back, I know we’re still far from ok.
With the shampoo washed from my hair, I take a razor to my underarms, trying not to dwell on the rejection. Bad enough being older than the other contestants, I cannot be deemed the hairy one as well.
‘Mam?’ Erin’s voice emerges through the increasing levels of steam.
Pulling a towel round me, I step out to greet my youngest daughter. Mammy guilt hits me with a jolt. I’m not used to being away from the girls so much. It’s only been a couple of weeks and I’m worried I’m missing out on so much stuff already.
‘Erin, sweetie, how are you?’ I pull her into me for a hug.
‘I missed you yesterday.’ Her face tilts up towards mine with a sadness that rips me in two.
‘I missed you too. I came up to your room the second I got home.’ My fingers stroke the stray strands of hair covering her eyes.
‘Did you sing me a song? And give me three kisses?’
‘You bet I did.’ I lead her out of the sweltering steam and into our bedroom. I still have to dry my hair and put some make-up on, but I can’t bring myself to get motivated. Giving my daughter some much-needed attention is my ultimate priority, despite the time constraints. She’s not the only one who needs my attention, but he’s not making it easy for me so sadly my husband will have to wait.
‘Want pancakes for breakfast?’ I pull on my dressing gown and lead her down the stairs, my long hair dripping, soaking my back. Marcus follows close behind. He switches on the coffee machine and I pull out the eggs and flour. We never seem to get a free second to talk at the moment. To patch things up. The distance between us seems to be increasing by the day.
‘It’s not even the weekend, Mam! Are you feeling okay?’ Erin giggles.
‘It’s nearly the weekend. I feel fine, sweetie. Just happy to be here with you.’ The last one passed in a blur of school football matches and a visit from James and Nadine, which left us both a little drunk and too sleepy for much else.
‘What’s the plan for this weekend, by the way?’ Marcus asks, passing behind me as I crack the eggs into a glass bowl, but he doesn’t linger against me the way he normally would.
‘Dinner Saturday night with James, Nadine, Abby, Callum, Nathan and Kerry. Nathan booked The Ivy. Apparently he has news.’
‘Who’s minding us?’ Erin asks. It’s a good question, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet with everything else that’s been going on, but I’m hoping Marcus’s parents will do it.
One look at my face says it all. Marcus says, ‘I’ll ask my mother when I drop the girls off.’
By the time I get to the studio, I’m already five minutes late. It’s worth the filthy look Aaron shoots, because I got to spend some quality time with my family and although Marcus and I didn’t get the chance to talk, at least we managed to sit through breakfast with minimal fuss.
The prospect of dinner out with our friends is something I’m looking forward to. It might be exactly what we need – time together, surrounded by our safe circle. It’s exactly what the doctor ordered; fabulous food, familiar faces, and the chance to spend time together in one of the most romantic, classiest spots in the city.
Ben meets me in the middle of floor, once again clutching a takeaway tea cup which he hands over. It’s become part of the daily ritual we’ve slipped into. It’s not exactly comfortable, I’m always aware of his all-too-close proximity, but it’s less awkward than it might have been with a complete stranger.
The scent of ginger is strong, but not as strong as Ben’s aftershave. Rich, woody, earthy scents assault my nose. I like it. It’s the same scent he’s worn for years. His hair’s tousled across his face, skimming the corner of his eye. I automatically reach up to move it, but I catch myself mid-air and instead, pat my own sleekly dried hair into place.
‘Good morning, partner.’ He clinks his cup against mine in a cheers.
‘It certainly is.’ On the back of the warm feeling I got from hugging my daughters this morning, I even manage to muster a smile.
