‘Sometimes I wonder if you do, Fern.’
She felt an unexpected lurch in her tummy at the frustration still lacing his brow, the tone of voice that suggested this was about so much more than her forgetting parents’ evening. She should’ve told him she wasworried about their marriage months ago. But then again, perhaps he should’ve been the one to address it, it couldn’t all be her fault.
In a calm voice she explained, ‘I intended to do it, I forgot, and I’m sorry.’
‘I’m capable of doing everything you are, yet you insist on doing it all yourself.’
Before she had a chance to wonder whether he was being argumentative because he’d had a long dayor was frustrated at her lack of trust in others doing things the way she would, she said, ‘Is this about me always needing to be in charge?’ There was a time he’d admired her for her strength, her ability to take control, when those sorts of comments would’ve been teasing to show he didn’t mind the state of play one bit. When had her admirable qualities become more of a frustrating trait thananything else?
He held her gaze for a moment and then as though he was exhausted by it all he added nothing extra and stepped closer to pull her into a gentle hug. ‘I’m not suggesting that, Fern. I’m just saying …’
‘Dinner is cooking,’ she murmured after a while, when she felt him relax the way she managed to do too, the hug a reminder of the closeness that still lurked deep down rather thanthe distance that seemed to be increasing between them these days. ‘Would you like a glass of wine?’ A peace offering might be a better idea than attempting to talk about anything else.
‘Can’t. I’ve got a squash game in an hour.’ He pulled away and ran a hand across his smoothly shaven jaw that would show stubble in the morning, hints of the same grey that had begun to fleck his dark hair.
She turned back to the sink to wash the wooden chopping board that wouldn’t go in the dishwasher either, picked up the steel wool and gave it a vicious scrub.
‘I did tell you this morning.’ His voice came out soft, wary, not missing the change in her mood.
‘It’s fine,’ she rallied, feeling put out that she desperately needed some alone time with her husband yet this wasn’t the first time he’dannounced other plans. ‘You go to your game, I’ll keep your dinner warm and the wine can wait.’ Squash games, online meetings in the evenings, even playing on the PlayStation with his son, pushing her further and further down his list of priorities. They had little time for one another these days, unless it was between the sheets. They never seemed to have had a problem with that.
He pulled herback against him perhaps with a change of heart. ‘I could always cancel.’
She was tempted to ask him to but he always came home a little bit calmer after a game. ‘You go, I need to order the invitations for the Christmas party anyway.’ And she wanted them here well in advance, even though save the date cards had already been distributed. Fern had never liked to do anything last minute, nevermind forget tasks altogether.
He pulled her in for another hug and when his mouth moved down against her neck, kissing the little space above her collarbone that always drove her crazy, she sighed. Despite any bickering, intimacy had kept them going lately and she never wanted to lose that part of their relationship. ‘How about we have that glass of wine when I get home?’
‘Sounds good to me.’
When Jacob called out again about being hungry, anxious not to let go of the moment, Fern kissed Everett on the mouth and whispered, ‘I’ll wear the lingerie you love and have the wine waiting.’
He made a low guttural groan as though the interruption was painful before he turned to greet his youngest son with a ruffle of his hair. Cooper came downstairs next and asked about dinner, even thoughit hadn’t been long since he’d eaten some toast.
‘No, you won’t keel over and die if you don’t eat soon,’ Everett assured them both, his mood better already. ‘And you’re both old enough to find your own pieces of school uniform,’ he added when Cooper asked about his school socks and Jacob said he couldn’t find his spare sports top for PE. ‘And, please, stop bickering. Turn the music off, thePlayStation too. It’s almost dinner time.’ He loosened his tie, winked in Fern’s direction and headed upstairs to get changed.
And just like that she was transported to the Fern and Everett they’d been when they first met.
Fern had fallen for Everett the day he picked up her railcard in the London Underground and chased her up the escalator. She’d dropped it at the bottom and not being one tostand on the right and wait behind everyone else, she’d quickly ascended the escalator on the left and was already at the next one by the time an out-of-breath Everett caught up with her. He’d handed her the ticket and she thought she’d never see him again, the well-built man who filled out a suit nicely and who’d looked at her with his ocean blue eyes as though he already knew her. She’d thoughtabout him for the rest of that day, finding it hard to concentrate at work, hearing his velvety voice even though he was nowhere near, wishing they’d had more than a snatched conversation. She looked out for him every day at the train station and on the Tube but she didn’t see him again until almost a month later when he walked past her in Covent Garden. He’d taken her for coffee that day, thenlunch the next, then drinks at the end of the week. And they’d barely had time apart since.
Everett, three years older than Fern, was still working with the same company in London except now he was the chief finance officer. He took the train to and from work each day, five days a week. Sometimes he bemoaned the journey but Fern knew he didn’t hate it that much. He always read the morning newswith a large coffee taken in his Thermos, and she sensed it was his down time before a hectic day at the office. She rarely took time for herself, but not because she couldn’t if she wanted to, more that she had no idea what to do with herself if she wasn’t busy. Funny, she knew a lot about numbers, but not a whole lot about relaxing. She always wore a watch that counted her steps, made sure shegot the requisite ten thousand a day, marching on the spot at home if she didn’t until the little buzz on her wrist told her she’d attained her target.
When Fern was much younger she’d been a keen runner. She’d been on the school’s cross country team, she’d run every morning when she and Everett got together, but slowly the demands on her time had taken over and the habit had fallen away. She’dtried going to yoga a couple of years ago thinking it might perhaps be the answer to help de-stress, but on the contrary, she found her mind racing and an inability to switch off and so she gave that up. She moved on to trying Zumba to work out some frustration, but then the class she went to was moved to a lunchtime, which was impossible for her, and so that fell away too. Fern didn’t have manyfemale friendships either, what with the demands of her job and her family. And anyway, sisters were supposed to do that job, weren’t they? Unfortunately it hadn’t worked out that way with the Chamberlain girls.
Fern called Jacob and Cooper for dinner and covered Everett’s plate so he could reheat it when he was home after his game. The boys wolfed their food down and went right on to bananasand ice-cream for dessert before they reluctantly headed off to do their homework after Cooper stacked the dishwasher, his chore on the calendar today, and Jacob put the rubbish into the wheelie bin by the back gate.
Fern put some music on while she wiped down the table and washed up. When her phone rang and her boss’s name popped up on the screen she put it on speaker. As he spoke, she froze,tap still running, frying pan in one hand, cloth in the other. ‘What do you mean I haven’t given you what you need? I left it all on your desk, Nick.’
‘You didn’t include the balance sheets or the cash-flow statements, and the executive summary is for Carters.’
Carters weren’t even a client anymore. How had she managed to print off the wrong executive summary and not even notice? She usuallytriple checked everything, she didn’t make mistakes. ‘I don’t know what to say, Nick. I’m sorry. I’ll do it first thing in the morning.’
‘I need it for the breakfast meeting.’
A tightening pain across the top of her head made itself known as she realised that actually, she couldn’t remember writing up the finalised executive summary, which meant trawling through information and pulling it alltogether. ‘It’s not a problem, Nick. I have all the information I need, just a matter of collating it all together and I’ll email it through tonight.’ She made it sound so simple when it wasn’t. And it wasn’t quick either. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath even though she wanted to lob the phone across the kitchen and swear.
Her boss ended the call relieved, Fern on the other hand felther stress levels rise. She got back to rinsing the pan and when it fell from her grasp and the water splashed up the front of her sweatshirt she screamed, ‘Fuck it!’ at the top of her voice.
She didn’t swear often but lately it was as though the words were out before she had a chance to think about it. The last thing she wanted was to teach the boys bad habits. She stood, hands bracing againstthe sink and closed her eyes but sensed she wasn’t alone.
