A stunned inhalation of breath resounded around the room.
‘Don’t be daft, Colin,’ hissed Cynthia. ‘It’s only a speech. Grow a pair.’
Colin sighed. ‘I wasn’t talking about the speech,’ he muttered, but Cynthia didn’t hear. He turned back to face the room. ‘In our first year of marriage, our beautiful daughter Sarah was born. My beautiful girl, I need you to know, whatever happens, I love you. You have so much going for you, if only you could see it. Be brave, love. Be braver than I’ve ever been.’
Colin looked straight at Sarah, who blushed at the scrutiny of many heads turning her way. Cynthia shifted in her chair, wondering what was happening. Colin’s next words clarified any incomprehension.
‘Cynthia, I’m sorry, but I think after twenty-five years it’s about time we were honest. I’ve chosen the worst time and place for this, but it has to be said. We’re no longer the people we were all those years ago. You married me with certain expectations and I’ve lived up to none. Your disappointment in me has turned you into the woman we all know…’
‘And love,’ interrupted Cynthia in an effort to break the tension. The crowd responded with muted laughter. Colin cleared his throat.
‘I think it’s best I leave it there. Apologies everyone, but I hope you have a good evening. Enjoy the buffet and free bar.’
As the crowd exchanged applause and confused glances, Cynthia tugged on Colin’s sleeve. ‘What is this? What are you saying?’
Colin bent down so only Cynthia could hear. ‘It’s time to stop pretending, Cynthia. It’s over, you’re free. I’ll be in touch to discuss formalities, but for now I think it’s best we each have some space.’
Colin prised Cynthia’s hand from his sleeve, picked up his pint, downed it in one, and strode out of the room.
Chapter 4
Sarahstumbledalongthedim suburban streets in a daze. Her mind was a mass of cotton wool, a thin spear of pain piercing through with each step. Her arms gripped tight to Cynthia, who swerved and faltered along the pavement, stopping to lurch into the road and hurl insults at a husband who was too far away to hear them.
How had this happened? How had a celebration of stable family life turned into an imploding of all Sarah had ever known? At that moment, she hated her father. How could he walk away from them? What was he thinking? Was he having some sort of breakdown?
Sarah had no sympathy even if Colin was mid break-down. He’d abandoned them. He’d abandoned her.
The night had been a disaster from beginning to end. After the initial shock of Colin’s departure, a shaken Cynthia had taken to her feet once again. With a glass of Prosecco held aloft, she announced a change of plan. No longer an anniversary party, she declared the night a divorce party, with the instructions that all present were to eat, drink and be merry.
After Cynthia’s announcement, Sarah found herself in a room of drunk middle-aged strangers, dancing to an Elvis impersonator who would have the star himself turning in his grave. She tried her best to keep Cynthia away from the flowing booze, to no avail. By nine-thirty, Cynthia was grinding her hips against a spindly fifty-something on the dance-floor. By ten she was on a table, exposing her knickers to the crowd as she used an empty bottle of champagne as a microphone and sang along with the band. By eleven she had her head down a toilet bowl, Sarah stroking her back as the previous consumption of alcohol came back in violent bursts.
At midnight, the band packed up and, other than a few stragglers, the guests stumbled and slurred their goodbyes. By the time the last guest left, Sarah had to peel Cynthia from the floor, wiping her tear-stained face and heaving her towards the door. There had been no time to dwell on what had happened. Sarah was in survival mode.
As they left the building, the staff shouted about lost deposits and extra charges for the mess they’d left behind them, but Sarah didn’t care. She needed to get her mother home. Everything else could wait.
The house lay in darkness when they arrived home. Sarah fitted her key in the lock and turned the door handle with trepidation. Would she find her father in tears at the kitchen table? Would he be sitting in the dark living room waiting for round two of recriminations and grievances?
The house was silent other than the usual white noise: the ancient grumbling boiler, a washing machine, dishwasher or tumble dryer, turned on at night to save on the electricity bill.
The first thing Sarah noticed was the empty banister. Colin always left his coat and hat on the end of the banister, much to the chagrin of his wife. Now his coat was gone. Sarah deposited Cynthia in an armchair and rushed through the house, checking room after room. All sat empty. Sarah paused in the doorway of her parents’ bedroom. It looked the same as before, yet felt different. She walked across and opened the double wardrobe. On one side, Cynthia’s outlandish dresses, kaftans and pashminas hung on padded hangers. The opposite side was bare. No shirts, no jackets, no trousers, no Dad.
Sarah slammed the wardrobe shut and moved to the chest of drawers, only to find the same story repeated. What Sarah hoped had been a spur-of-the-moment decision Colin would live to regret seemed more like a well-made plan. There was no trace of the man who had occupied the nineteen-thirties semi for the past twenty-five years. He’d even taken the hangers with him.
The sound of snoring floated up the stairs and, feeling that the best thing would be to leave Cynthia to sleep it off, Sarah retreated to her bedroom. On her bedside cabinet, a small envelope stood propped against a lamp. She tore open the envelope and pulled out a sheet of her father’s blue writing paper.
My darling girl,
Please forgive me for the mess I’ve made of things. I never intended to hurt you or your mother, but I had reached breaking point and we couldn’t go on as we were.
I take full responsibility for the mess I’ve created. When we met, your mother was young, feisty, beautiful, and I led her to believe I was all she wanted. In truth, I was a shy young man, content to develop my skills as a carpenter, but with no desire to run a business or climb a career ladder. She wanted an ambitious man who would provide the big house, big family, and big car she’d set her heart on. I did nothing to dissuade her notion that I was such a man. By the time she found out I was lacking in both the ambition and fertility departments, she was trapped, so it’s no surprise she became bitter. Beneath her puff and bluster is the woman she once was. I hope by freeing her, she can find her way back to that girl. Perhaps I, too, will find the confidence to live a fuller life. We were never right for each other, and it’s about time one of us admitted it.
I’ll be in touch soon.Think about what I said to you today. I spent twenty-five years living half a life. Don’t let life pass you by like I did. Much love, Dad.
Sarah scrunched up the paper and threw it at the bin. It missed and rolled across the carpet and under her bed. How could Colin be so selfish? In one fell swoop, he’d destroyed their family, destroyed their lives. Sarah buried her face in her pillow and cried hot, angry tears. She cried until the sun came up and she gave in to sleep.
*
Sarah walked into the kitchen to find Cynthia scraping butter on toast in quick, angry bursts. Crumbs flew out from beneath her knife, littering the table in tarnished confetti.
