The invitation was like an open door to a whole new part of her, being able to tell someone how she felt.
‘This is your time, Margot,’ Howard had said after she told him everything. ‘This book club is an adventure for me, but it sounds like it’s an escape for you. And we are friends, all of us. We are here when you need us. Never forget that your life is your own, nobody else’s. Nobody has the right to take from you the way your husband seems to.’ She knew all of this of course, but hearing a friend say it felt different. ‘Don’t lose yourself because of someone else,’ he’d finished. He hadn’t made her feel silly for not leaving, or told her to simply walk out. Somehow he’d understood just how hard it was for her.
They’d been interrupted then by Faye appearing on the screen, and another book club had got underway.
Perry came into the kitchen now while she was still making her shopping list. He had a late start at the office after an early morning meeting in his study. He spotted the postcard from Sebastian on the kitchen bench and picked it up, but he put it down without reading what it said. ‘Nice to see Sebastian is still bumming around in New Zealand.’
She didn’t contradict him, or remind him that their eldest son was working hard over there. It just wasn’t worth it.
When Perry went into the hallway, she picked up the postcard and read it again. The wording on the back was short and to the point, as it had to be with the limited space – a quick update of things he’d seen that week. Sebastian’s phone calls were few and far between, but she loved that he sent a postcard every couple of weeks from wherever he was. This wasn’t the first from New Zealand, but it was a different picture – the first had been a photograph taken at dusk showing the lights of a small town with water nearby and mountains in the background whereas this one was of Lake Wakatipu, which was stunning. The image had her wanting to pack her bags and travel, something she’d never done solo because she’d never had the chance. And not for the first time she yearned for that degree she’d missed out on, the year in America she would have experienced as part of it.
She fixed the postcard beneath a drawing pin on the pinboard so it was on display with the others. Seeing them all warmed her heart every time she looked at them.
‘There are too many bloody cards on that board.’ Perry was back and now and frantically searching the kitchen, moving on to checking the windowsill behind the curtains.
She ignored his remark about the postcards because she knew what he was looking for. ‘Your laptop is in the butler’s pantry. On the shelf behind the sink,’ she said. ‘I had to move it while I cleaned the inside of the windows.’ And the table, the floor, the backs of the chairs. She was nothing if not thorough.
He disappeared into the pantry but the next thing she heard was him roar a swear word that made her jump.
He came out, red in the face. He snatched up the tea towel she’d just changed and hung on the handle of the oven. ‘What happened to the bloody plumber?’ He wiped the front of his shirt vigorously. She could only assume he’d not leaned over the sink carefully enough to reach the shelf behind. The issue with the tap hadn’t been sorted yet so water kept pooling around the sink.
‘This is a priority!’ His arm shot out beside him, his fingers splayed, indicating the direction of the problem in the pantry as if she didn’t already know.
‘He’s due at midday today.’ She wanted to point out that plumbers were busy, and sometimes other people were a bigger priority, but Perry would never understand. He liked things to be done his way, right away.
His temper was another thing that had ramped up since they got together. He shouted often, whether in frustration at something that had happened, something he had done, or something she had or hadn’t done. He was never violent towards her, but he didn’t have to be. The way he behaved made her world smaller by the day and slowly she’d shrunk into the background.
He put the strap of his laptop case over his shoulder while still swearing about his shirt and the ‘bloody water’ and the ‘incompetent plumber’. He gestured to the pinboard she was standing beside. ‘Time to thin that out.’
She said nothing, just stepped away as he muttered, ‘The boy could’ve had a proper career.’ The age-old argument reared its ugly head again. ‘They both could.’
Sebastianhada career. It just wasn’t the one Perry had wanted for his eldest son. And so did Alistair, but Perry didn’t like his choice either.
‘They’re both happy,’ she said without looking at him. She didn’t usually argue the point, but when her sons rather than her were being criticised, she couldn’t stay silent for long.
‘Yeah, well, happy doesn’t pay the bills, does it.’
He’d probably heard that sort of thing as a boy from his own father. Had it really encouraged him or had it ever made him feel so down about himself that he wanted to run away? Just like their sons had done. They both lived far away from home and Sebastian had put as many miles between them as possible. She was just glad that her boys had each other. They got on well and always had done, despite the age gap of nine years. She never wanted them to lose that connection. Perry had accused her many a time of mollycoddling them and babying them rather than turning them into proper men. But parenting was the one thing she did her way and she’d kept strong on that.
Perry took his keys from the hook on the wall next to the butler’s pantry before reaching for the coffee she’d pre-made him in his thermal cup with the lid and left next to the shiny new Ninja coffee machine. He’d bought the machine last year desperate for barista-quality coffees at home but he’d never bothered learning how to use it. Instead she’d been the one to read the manual and had added barista to her housewife résumé alongside housekeeper, washer-upper, picker-up of random ties and shirts left on the backs of chairs dotted around the house, entertainer of sinfully boring businesspeople, trophy wife when required on important nights out, and generally a person who was close to invisible. She felt like a foreign maid who came in, didn’t speak the language so kept quiet, did the job while the person who’d hired her carried on as if she wasn’t even there at all.
When had she become this woman, at someone else’s beck and call?
She knew when. It was the moment the home pregnancy test was positive and she’d given up her dreams to support Perry in his.
She sometimes wondered what Perry would say if she told him ‘no’ more often, but like a lot of things, that would create tension, an argument, unease she could really do without.
The solid front door closed with a thud and no goodbye from Perry. Still, at least another wretched corporate dinner wasn’t planned; that much was a relief. And he’d be gone until the early evening at least, which meant she had a nice long, peaceful day to get things done. The plumber would come and hopefully sort the sink, and they were also having the lounge repainted and with the furniture moved out of there – she suspected that was why they’d had the dinners out and she hadn’t had to entertain here – there was plenty of cleaning to do. Too much dirt lurked behind soft furnishings and only came to light when they were moved from their normal positions.
If her friends could see her now they would be appalled. Maybe it was a good thing that she had nobody close to her any more. Bethany’s husband had moved to Wales for her when she needed him to. He stood by her side no matter what. Trinny had a partnership with her husband – Trinny ran her business, her husband was a police detective, and somehow they juggled everything: their son’s activities, their daughter’s dance schedule, their own plans. Her friends had spouses who supported them and in return they did the same. But for Margot it was all one-sided. It was all give on her part and take on Perry’s.
She finally left the house and made her way to the supermarket to do the weekly shop. She had her list; she was organised. She wouldn’t be more than an hour or so. But as she came out of the supermarket her trolley crashed into another. She apologised and was about to head for her car when she realised the other person was Juliet who lived a few doors down from her on the same side of the street.
‘Margot, how are you?’ Juliet’s smile didn’t seem forced. It seemed genuine, which was in a way much worse. She was another friend who had fallen away or rather, been driven away by Perry.
Margot gave her standard answer of, ‘I’m very well thank you.’
‘And how are your boys?’
