‘I thought you told me to get one,’ Ryan said when he got home that evening. ‘How do you know I haven’t ordered one?’
‘If you have, you can cancel it.’ My eyes didn’t leave his. ‘But we both know you haven’t,’ I said coolly.
I was grateful for so many things, I kept reminding myself. My home. My wonderful children. The job I loved… But increasingly, I was struggling to find a context for my dysfunctional marriage, for Ryan’s attitude towards you and Ollie.
After the incident with the tablet, my dreams became more vivid, night after night, of a very different life, so that I awoke filled with the same irrational fear as I had before that one day I was going to lose you both; a feeling I couldn’t shake, that if our family went on like this, something terrible was going to happen.
After three sleepless nights, I confronted Ryan. ‘Can we talk?’ I could feel my heart thumping; we’d reached the point that I was terrified of triggering the anger I knew lay just beneath the surface.
He tensed. ‘What about?’
‘Us,’ I said. ‘Our family.’ I paused. ‘Ryan, I’m really worried. Ollie is anxious about almost everything at the moment. And Lexie just buries everything.’
‘You’re exaggerating,’ he said, picking up his empty glass and looking around for the bottle.
‘I’m not. This isn’t right, Ryan.’ I stood there. ‘You can’t go on behaving like this.’
‘Are you talking about Ollie’s tablet again?’ He stepped towards me. Then as I backed away, he came closer. ‘Oh, but I can do what I like.’ His voice was menacing. ‘It’s my salary that’s paid the mortgage and puts food on the table. Last time I checked, I pay for your car, too,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Of course, if your newfound wealth changes any of that, do let me know.’
Cornered, I felt my body tense. ‘You can’t buy your way out of this.’ My voice was shaking.
‘I’m not,’ he said smoothly. ‘I’m merely reminding you of the groundlines. Marriage is a deal. I’m keeping my half of it. You need to keep yours.’
Summoning my courage, I moved away from him. ‘It isn’t a business transaction.’ I stared at him, wondering when he’d become so cold.
‘That’s how I see it.’ He went to the cupboard for a bottle of wine as suddenly it occurred to me that he spent more money on drink than I made from flowers.
‘Why can’t you stop?’ Suddenly I couldn’t bear it. ‘Drinking, I mean.’
He looked surprised. ‘I did for a while, didn’t I? Proves I can if I need to. But also I like how it makes me feel.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Is there anything wrong with that?’
‘You don’t see it, do you?’ I shook my head sadly. ‘It’s difficult to have the most normal conversation – like now, for instance.’
‘Like you picking holes in me, you mean,’ he said, clearly narked.
‘That isn’t it.’ I didn’t know how to explain to him.
‘The way I see it, that’s exactly what it is.’ There were tell-tale warnings of anger in his voice.
‘God, Ryan.’ I raised my voice. ‘Our entire fucking lives are dominated by how much you drink and what it does to you. It isn’t normal – or healthy. It isn’t doing any of us any good – and that includes you.’ As all my pent-up grievances exploded out of me, it was like waiting for a bomb to go off.
But he just stared at me. ‘You need help,’ he said scathingly. ‘You’re losing it, Edie.’
‘You’re right.’ I looked at him helplessly. ‘I do need help.’ As if to confirm it, another image flashed into my mind. This time, it was one of me, desperately alone, as I realised that it was for my sake as well as yours and Ollie’s that I couldn’t go on living like this.
14
NOW
Dear Lexie,
You know how new years are about new beginnings? It’s the best news, isn’t it, that Ollie and Jenna are about to welcome their baby into the world. I wish you were here to share in it. There’s something miraculous about the birth of a baby.
They’ll be wonderful parents. It makes me wish I’d been a better one. Wish I’d seen you, Lexie. Who you really were, rather keeping seeing you as the child I’d brought up, or the typical teenager I believed you’d become, all of them through the lens of motherhood.
Those childhood days passed so quickly. Your ready smile, your irrepressible spirit, where did they go? Did something happen to you? I was aware that something was different. I remember asking you what was on your mind. You were fifteen, it was New Year’s Eve; we had a party to go to. But you were hanging back.
It’s just another year, Mum. January 1st is just another day. The same as every day of the week, but no-one thinks about what that means.
