The idea that I won’t want to write it any more because Hugo and I will be back to living in clover, holding hands over the duvet cover at night, eating bowls of garlicky pasta at the countertop and laughing at everything from the antics of the neighbours, something funny we’ve read, or something stupid his colleagues have done ... waking each day with a smile at the thought that he’s sleeping next to me ... and just like that, the word ‘neighbour’ is enough to conjure a picture of her – the woman who had sex in the bed where I gave birth.
Three times.
I still think of her as Mrs Peterson, crazy, isn’t it? I used to shout out, ‘Morning, Mrs Peterson!’ ‘Happy Christmas, Mrs Peterson!’ We were never friends. And all the while she slept with my husband. A fact that still feels like a lie no matter how often I think, say, or write it. I can’t bring myself to call her Wendy in my mind. Wendy ... I don’t hate her. I hate what she did but I don’t hate her. She’s not married to me, he is.
Wendy and Hugo . . .
Hugo and Wendy . . .
Nope that is not a rabbit hole down which I am going to dive. It can only lead to no place good.
Urgh, not writing any more today, might even rip this page out.
It’s horrible.
It’s exhausting.
This was supposed to be my moment of peace. Ha! Fat chance. I’m now more tightly wound than I was before I started ...
‘Hey?’ Hugo came towards her with the phone outstretched. Hurriedly she closed the book and reached out. ‘It’s Dilly.’
‘Dilly Dally Donks!’ She held the phone close, feeling her spirit soar knowing she was connected to her little girl.
Her daughter launched into a fast-paced diatribe. ‘Mummy, Aunty Ellis bought us popcorn and Bear said we’d have it when we watched a movie tonight and I just found the packet in the sink, he ate it all!’ she wailed.
‘Okay, well, that was naughty, I’m sure Aunty Ellis will—’
‘And I couldn’t find Paw-Paw.’ Dilly rarely went anywhere without her teddy bear. ‘And Bear said I was a baby because I cried and then Aunty Ellis said he was a baby because he didn’t know how to share popcorn and then he took my bike and—’
‘Dilly.’ Harriet cut her short. ‘You’re supposed to be having an adventure and you guys promised me that you’d try and get on while you’re at Aunty Ellis’s house.’
‘I’m getting on with Bear, it’s him that’s not getting on with me!’ she protested.
Harriet closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘You’re coming home soon. Only another week and you’ll be home and I can’t wait to see you, pumpkin. I’ve missed you both so much.’ She cursedthe crack to her voice. Hugo dropped down on to the footstool and rubbed her leg as she spoke. ‘We both have,’ she added. This was how it had to be, a united front for the kids.
‘Home to Ledwick Green?’
To hear the excitement in her daughter’s voice at the mention of their old house, which would never again be home, was jarring. Almost instinctively she brushed Hugo’s hand from her leg.
‘No, darling. To our new house. It’s lovely. You have a beautiful bedroom waiting for you with all your toys and bits and pieces’ – well, she would when she finally located them among the stacked boxes in the hallway – ‘and you will be right across the hall from Bear and there’s so much to do here!’
‘Where is it again?’
It tore at Harriet’s heart that her little girl couldn’t remember the name of the place they were now going to call home.
‘It’s Ilfracombe. And there’s a beach and a harbour and places to swim, and ice cream!’
‘I miss you, Mummy.’ Dilly’s voice was small and Harriet’s throat narrowed with distress for all the changes they were going through and with the desire to hold her baby girl.
‘I miss you too.’
‘Just one more week.’ Her daughter, she could tell, was trying to sound brave and it tore at her heart.
‘That’s it my little love, just one more week.’
As the call ended, Hugo stared at her and once again put his hand on her shin.
‘I wish things were easier, I wish things were different, but never doubt that I love you.’
