The Dead Husband, page 10
TWENTY-SEVEN
SATURDAY 3RD DECEMBER
As Amy cleared the breakfast pots, Callum reappeared downstairs holding his mug and a plate, clearly unsure what to do with them.
‘I’ll take them,’ Amy said, not knowing whether to smile or scowl as Callum allowed her to take the items.
‘Thank you. I’m off out now.’ He didn’t say where he was going or when he’d be back, and Amy didn’t ask – their relationship was no longer one of man and wife – they owed each other nothing.
Ten minutes later Beth rang the doorbell and walked in, her eyes scanning the room. ‘Are you alone?’ she asked. Amy dried her hands and hugged her sister.
‘Yes, it’s okay, he’s not here.’ She made tea which she didn’t want and they sat together on the sofa in the lounge. Beth pulled a throw around their knees and looked into Amy’s pale face. ‘Tell me again what happened?’
‘There’s not much to tell. Callum arrived home from work and said he’d had enough and he was leaving. I think he expected a row or for me to beg and plead for him to stay – he seemed a tad disappointed.’
Beth chewed on her lip, eyes wide as she listened. ‘Weren’t you surprised, had you seen this coming?’
Amy shrugged. ‘I think I’ve been expecting it for years; the only surprise is that he’s taken so long to make the decision.’
‘And, umm… the other woman, what did he say about her?’
‘He didn’t actually admit there was another woman but he didn’t deny it either. To be honest, all I feel is a huge sense of relief. I’ve probably wanted out of this marriage as much as Callum but you know me, I couldn’t make the effort to do it myself.’
‘So has he left for good?’
‘Oh, no. He’s renting a flat which will be ready on Tuesday, so I told him he could stay until then. He’s moved into the spare room.’
‘Bloody hell, Amy, you’re a daft sod! You’re being far too nice about it, you should kick him out – not be so soft – if he’s got someone else he should go to her! You always were the sensible one, the peacemaker. Have you no fire in your belly?’
‘Huh, you always had enough fire for both of us. I’m tired, Beth, tired of this life, such as it is. Callum and I have nothing solid enough to hold us together, you should know how that feels.’ For a moment Amy considered telling her sister about the brain tumour but decided against it, wanting to be sure it was the right thing to do. Beth nodded. ‘How did we both end up with dysfunctional marriages? When we were kids, we dreamed about escaping and I suppose marriage seemed the only way out for girls like us. Maybe Dad was right when he said we didn’t have a brain cell between us.’
Amy turned sharply on her sister. ‘Don’t say that, it’s not true! You could have gone places if you’d been allowed to stay on at school, and we hardly had a great role model, did we?’ Her eyes welled with tears as she reached for Beth’s hand and Amy was suddenly back in her childhood home, in her bedroom which had been both her refuge and her prison.
Amy squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hands over her ears, but the sound of shouting and her mother’s screaming couldn’t be blocked out. An awful fear gripped her, restricting her breathing and reminding her what a coward she was. Then she heard Beth shriek and Amy could almost feel her sister’s pain. Dad must have hit her again. Why couldn’t Beth keep quiet like Amy did? Why did she always have to antagonise their father? She knew it wouldn’t end well, for herself or their mother.
Amy sniffed back the tears, her body trembling when she heard footsteps on the stairs, too fast for anyone other than her sister, and then Beth was banging on her bedroom door. Quickly, Amy let her in and closed the door as their dad’s shadow turned on the landing in lumbering pursuit. Together the girls dragged a chest of drawers behind the door just as the handle turned.
Dad was shouting obscenities and banging on the door. ‘I’ll bloody kill you when I get hold of you!’
Amy thought the door was going to splinter, Dad was shouldering it forcefully, but the girls pushed against the drawers with all the strength they could summon, praying they’d manage to keep him out. They could hear Mum pleading for him to stop, to leave them alone but the pounding continued.
‘I… I think he really will kill me this time. Can I stay in your room tonight?’ Beth’s ten-year-old body trembled. Amy enfolded her little sister in a hug. ‘Shh, of course you can.’ They sat on the floor adding their combined weight to the chest of drawers until the storm subsided and their dad gave the door one final kick before going downstairs.
The sisters cried before they slept, squashed together in the single bed, drawing comfort from each other.
It was one of many similar memories Amy could not forget, always there even though the girls rarely discussed their childhood and the violence they suffered. Beth, the younger and more spirited sister, seemed to antagonise their father without effort, suffering injuries no child should bear but hiding them as if the shame was her own. Amy remembered it all with a degree of ignominy. As the elder sister she should have looked after Beth – stopped their father’s beatings – but Amy was a coward, it was easier to hide away in her bedroom. It wasn’t that she didn’t receive occasional beatings too, but she’d learned to keep her mouth shut, to avoid confrontation. Beth was too feisty and outspoken – their mother always said her lip would be the death of her.
I should have protected Beth. She was my little sister and I should have stopped him. The guilt hung over Amy now, every bit as much as it did then.
Long after Beth left and the light outside faded as dusk approached, Amy took a mug of coffee, wrapped up in her warmest coat and went into the tiny back garden to watch the day disappear. Sitting with her hands cradling the mug, her thoughts on the difficult day she’d endured and the painful memories which proved impossible to shrug off, Amy was treated to an unexpected delight as the sky was suddenly filled with a murmuration of starlings. It was a phenomenon she’d seen only once before and she watched transfixed as the birds swooped and dived, spontaneous yet as if choreographed. Thousands of wings fluttered to unheard music and the flock moved as one, each confident of their place in the group. It amazed Amy how they could fly so close together without crashing into one another – how unlike people who clashed and knocked into each other constantly, causing grief and pain to those around them.
TWENTY-EIGHT
SUNDAY 4TH DECEMBER
Callum had stayed away for most of Saturday. When he finally arrived home in the early evening he poked his head around the lounge door, said a quick ‘Hi’ and ran straight upstairs. Uninterested in her husband’s activities, Amy didn’t ask where he’d been. Whether he’d eaten crossed her mind until she reminded herself he was no longer her responsibility – Cal had made his choice and she no longer cared.
Sunday looked as if it would follow much the same pattern, an uneasy breakfast-time when the couple tiptoed around each other, until soon Amy was alone again in the house. After hearing the car pull away, she climbed the stairs and opened the spare bedroom door intending just to look, to see if Callum had started packing. He had. Two suitcases lay on the floor at the far side of the bed with clothes neatly folded inside. In spite of her determination to be strong the sight made Amy’s breath catch in her throat and she wondered where he was going and when. They’d have to communicate at some point – would he be approaching a solicitor – should she? The last thing Amy wanted to do was go through protracted divorce proceedings, but to gain her freedom it seemed unavoidable.
Freedom. What would she do with it? What would it be like, but more pertinent, how long would it last? Amy had never felt entirely free – as a child at home there was always her father taking control, ordering her life, making her decisions; and then there was Callum. He didn’t treat her badly as her father had but she still felt very much like she was not her own person, whoever that might be. Did she want to be alone or was it too late to do anything with her life – yes, it probably was. If Callum hadn’t said he wanted out of their marriage, Amy wouldn’t have made the effort to do anything herself.
Sitting on the spare bed, Amy tried to determine her feelings. Her marriage was over and Callum was leaving, probably for another woman, but there was nothing inside her other than a sadness at lost opportunities. If he’d died rather than left her, would she be grief-stricken? No, probably not.
Idly picking up one of Callum’s shirts from the bed, Amy smelt perfume – something familiar which she couldn’t quite place – not a fragrance she wore, and not aftershave, it was a scent which lasted, sweet and floral. So, there was another woman. A strange sorrow engulfed Amy, who held the shirt to her face, a sadness for what might have been. But it would soon be all over.
The phone’s ring disturbed Amy’s thoughts and she ran downstairs to answer it, pleased to hear Beth’s voice.
‘Hi, it’s me. How are you today?’
‘Oh, about the same. Callum’s out again so if you want to come round you can help me feel sorry for myself.’
‘You never succumb to such feelings! Sorry but I can’t come today. Dave’s messing with the van so I’m stuck in with him – lucky old me.’
‘Oh well, have fun. I should really motivate myself to do something, make plans, I don’t know. I suppose Christmas will be different this year, eh?’
‘We can think about Christmas later. It’s a good job we’ve no kids to consider, isn’t it?’
No kids to consider!
‘Perhaps things might have been different if we’d had children. You chose not to, but Callum and I didn’t.’
Beth softened her tone. ‘Well, seeing how things have turned out it’s probably for the best.’
‘Yeah, well – you go and enjoy your day, I’ll probably have a lazy one so I’ll be here if you change your plans.’
Amy was inexplicably upset. Beth appeared to view being childless as a positive whereas Amy had only ever looked upon her childless state as a negative, a sadness she’d never quite come to terms with. When they first married, Amy and Callum had a master plan. They’d enjoy five years of being together, save like mad for a house, and then think about children – two would be perfect. With the naivety of youth, they assumed the future was in their hands but the reality had arrived like a slap in the face. Amy managed to conceive but couldn’t carry a baby to full term.
After the fourth miscarriage, the doctor told her she was suffering from antiphospholipid syndrome, a long name for a blood-clotting disorder. Amy cried for days while Callum appeared to shrug it off; perhaps he should have shrugged her off then as well – instead, they stayed together all these years and Amy couldn’t think of a good reason why, and nor, she assumed, could Callum.
Beth and Dave chose not to have children. Sadly, Amy’s sister married a man with the same attitude towards women as their father, a narcissistic misogynist. Beth accepted any beatings Dave dished out as normal, which her childhood experiences had endorsed. But bringing children into such a volatile marriage was unthinkable – Dave certainly wasn’t the paternal kind.
Amy put the kettle on, without the energy or inclination to do anything else, and disappointed that Beth wasn’t coming around to keep her company. Something was niggling at the back of Amy’s mind, the perfume on Callum’s shirt had unsettled her yet she couldn’t think why – it wasn’t jealousy for sure.
Before her coffee was drunk, Amy was asleep on the sofa, breakfast television playing to itself in the corner of the lounge.
Waking up an hour later, Amy shivered. Although tempted to pull a throw over her and go back to sleep, she didn’t. Picking up the phone she tapped in Beth’s number – wanting to hear a friendly voice. She’d ask her advice about a solicitor, a pretext for the call – Beth had a recently divorced neighbour and Amy hoped she’d pass on a name. Dave answered the phone with a gruff hello.
‘Can I speak to Beth, please.’ Pleasantries with her brother-in-law were virtually non-existent, they held a mutual dislike for each other.
‘No, you can’t. She’s out – I thought she was with you.’
‘Oh, maybe she’s on her way, what time did she leave?’
‘Can’t say I noticed. I was changing the oil in the van.’
Amy put her phone away. If Beth was on her way she’d arrive soon although the buses were infrequent on Sundays. Looking out of the window she hoped to see her sister walking down the street. Five minutes later she sat back down, it appeared Beth wasn’t coming yet it was strange for her to go out without the van, she didn’t like using the bus.
TWENTY-NINE
MONDAY 5TH DECEMBER
Since Amy’s redundancy, Monday mornings were no different from any other. This morning she woke only when the weak December sun shone through the curtains – 9am. Callum should have gone to work but noises in the kitchen told her otherwise. Dragging herself out of bed and padding downstairs, Amy stood in the doorway watching Callum frying bacon, at least he wasn’t still expecting her to cook for him. ‘No work today?’
Without looking up he replied, ‘I’ve got an appointment with a solicitor. I suggest you find someone to represent you, too.’
‘Isn’t there a way we can do this without solicitors?’
‘I don’t know. Why don’t you google it. You spend half your life on the laptop, and the other half watching telly.’
Amy ignored the snide comment. ‘Solicitors are expensive and we don’t have much spare cash, do we?’
Callum turned and looked at her. She could see his eyes were red, bloodshot. He must have been drinking yesterday – all day for all she knew – he didn’t come home until late when Amy was already in bed.
‘You suit yourself. I’m going.’ Callum put the bacon he’d been frying between two slices of bread, smothered it with ketchup and took it with him. Amy automatically cleared up the mess left on the table.
If Callum insisted on a solicitor and Amy didn’t, she could be left almost penniless. Things had been tight recently. With only one wage coming in they’d already stopped paying off the mortgage and were paying only the interest. Maybe Beth would be free to come over to talk and perhaps bring the name of her friend’s solicitor. Amy took out her phone and found Beth’s number.
‘Hi, Beth. Sorry to have missed you yesterday, I thought you were staying in with Dave.’
‘Oh, there was a change of plan. I popped to the supermarket. Er, was there anything special?’
‘Yes, do you have the name of the solicitor Mandy used for her divorce? Callum’s got an appointment with one this morning and I suppose I should find someone to represent me. If you’d like to come round, Cal’s out now.’ There was a moment’s silence and Amy could hear Beth breathing. At the risk of sounding needy she added, ‘I could do with the company.’
‘Okay, I’ll be with you soon.’ Beth rang off and Amy sat down to wait for her.
Half an hour later, Beth pulled onto the drive. Amy met her at the door and the sisters embraced. ‘You holding up?’ Beth studied Amy’s face.
Amy nodded and pulled away, suddenly struck by a ridiculous thought.
‘What’s that perfume you’re wearing?’
‘Springtime, why, do you like it?’
Amy felt sick and moved to sit on the sofa before she fell. ‘It’s the same perfume I noticed on Callum’s shirt.’ Staring at her sister, the thoughts buzzing around her mind were absurd, but Beth’s face and her silence confirmed the notion, ludicrous though it might be.
Beth sat opposite her sister, apparently lost for words and Amy wondered if she was about to deny being Callum’s other woman. After an awkward silence, a pale Beth almost whispered, ‘I’m so sorry, Amy. We were going to tell you soon – it just – happened, neither of us meant to hurt you.’
Amy’s head was spinning. Was she hurt? Or was it the shock making her feel disorientated. This couldn’t be happening. Surely – not her sister. It was one thing to lose Callum, she could cope with that but not Beth – she was relying on Beth to help her through the next few months. A sudden urge to lash out took Amy by surprise. Usually the peacemaker, she now wanted to hurt her sister, to make her pay. ‘How could you!’ she screamed. ‘After all I’ve done for you, you have to take my husband away!’
‘But, you don’t love him – and I do.’ Beth defended herself but her words angered Amy even more.
‘Have you no shame? Why do you always only think of yourself, Beth, because that’s the way it seems. You’re as bad as he is and probably deserve each other!’ Amy’s head throbbed and she feared embarrassing herself by bursting into tears – it was important to her to keep control, not to let her sister see her weakness. ‘I think you’d better go now.’
‘No, please! Let me try to explain.’
‘I don’t want to hear excuses, just go, leave me alone.’
But Beth seemed determined not to leave without a conversation and took control. ‘I’m going to make us some tea while you stay there, then we’ll talk about this.’ She hurried into the kitchen before Amy could protest further.
Amy put her head in her hands and sighed. Tears would have to wait – she drew in several deep breaths to calm herself. Perhaps she was in shock but it would take more than a cup of tea and a sisterly chat to process this news – Beth and Callum – no, heaven help her, no! She and Beth had been through so much together with only each other to rely on. And now as Amy was approaching her most difficult challenge of all, Beth was going to be with Callum!
Beth’s marriage had been rotten from the start, Amy disliked Dave from the first time she met him. He was a bully and she recognised similar traits to their father in him but Beth was determined to marry Dave and couldn’t be persuaded that he wouldn’t change. But what would happen now? Had Beth told Dave? No, her sister would be black and blue if she had. And did this mean not only the end of her relationship with Callum but also with Beth?
