D. E. White - The Forgotten Child

‘Are you really going back to work?’

‘Of course.’ She smiled thinly. ‘I need to earn money somehow, remember?’ She turned back to Milo. ‘Go on, sweetie, go outside for a bit while I speak to your dad.’

He frowned, looked from one to the other and then reluctantly hopped towards the kitchen.

Holly looked at Tom. His brown hair was just slightly too long, his navy tweed jacket worn over a crisp blue-striped shirt that emphasised his dark blue eyes. He had picked up a faint tan, despite the fact that he always complained he never saw the outside world when he was on a lecture tour. He smelt of his usual expensive aftershave. Once, the combination had turned her on, but now she wanted to throw up. It was such a cliché to have fallen for her university lecturer. Even more of a cliché to have imagined she could ride off into the sunset with him.

She had a sudden flash of memory – Jayden sitting on her bed, seizing her book, chucking it out the open window, and telling her fairy tales were total bollocks. As an elder brother he had clearly felt it was up to him to lay down the law. He must have been about eight when he said that, but she had already grown taller than him. Little git.

‘Are you really managing with the mortgage repayments? I would have thought you should be thinking about downsizing,’ he said, sitting casually on the sofa. Tom’s upper-class voice was light, almost disinterested, but she was sure there was a bit of sarcasm in there.

Memories stung. She had been in love with him, she was sure of it. Now he had moved on. Another young woman, another home, soon probably another kid on the way. Lydia was one of only two people who had ever expressed doubt over Holly’s choice of husband. He had fooled most of them with his charm and good looks. ‘We’re fine, thank you for asking. I’ve been doing overtime.’

‘Still working in the call centre? You should have finished your degree, Holly.’ His smug, self-satisfied face was highlighted by the crisp winter light as he stood, poised in front of the big bay windows like an actor on stage.

The unfairness of this statement made her catch her breath. ‘Whatever you want to think. I’m sure we don’t need to meet up to go over the childcare arrangements for the next month, so why don’t we just do this by email in future. It’ll save us both the hassle,’ Holly told him. She hated herself for still searching his face some kind of affection, anything but this cold, amused sarcasm. Why did he hate her so much? She should mention the texts, she really should.

‘I’m sure that will be fine. Beth is so good at working out my diary, and now we have the spare room organised Milo can come and stay for the weekends.’ His eyes were challenging her to comment.

‘I’m sure he’d like that. While he isn’t in the room, Tom, I would like to speak to you about something.’

His expression was wary, and he leaned back a little, away from her.

‘I can’t pretend that everything is okay, and that I’m not still unbelievably hurt by what you did, but you made your choice.’

‘You threw me out remember, Holly. It wasn’t my choice at all. You’ve changed since you’ve been working. Why you couldn’t just get a job that fitted around school hours instead of shift work, I don’t know.’

It was an old argument, and she wasn’t going to get sucked in. ‘You tell yourself whatever you want, Tom. We can be civil for Milo’s sake, and we can make sure he is still loved and cared for.’ She took a deep breath, and met his eyes. ‘But you need to stop asking for him to come and live with you. He is getting so confused. You also need to stop sending me shitty text messages. Why are you so mad at me, when it’s you who cheated on us?’

‘I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay civil for long … Thank you, Lydia.’ He smiled at her as she dumped two mugs of tea on the table.

Lydia scowled back at him, deliberately ignoring his words. ‘I’ll go into the garden with Milo for bit,’ she said, addressing her words exclusively to Holly. Her dark eyes, almost hidden by the weight of her false lashes, were flashing with indignation, but she silently swapped her mules for shiny red stilettos and tottered out of the room.

‘Thanks.’ Holly waited until the back door banged, and then she turned back to Tom. ‘It isn’t me who isn’t being civilised about this.’

‘I don’t know what text messages you are referring too, but I don’t think any of mine can be classed as shitty,’ he told her.

Holly reached over to the table and pulled her phone towards her, her injured ribs tweaking as she did so. She scrolled down and pushed the device towards Tom.

He picked her phone up delicately, as though it was something insanitary. His expression was blank, as he read down the list of vitriol, but when he came to the end his brows drew sharply together, slightly thin mouth pursed. ‘I don’t know what game you are playing, Holly, but I didn’t send these.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘They’ve come from your phone.’

‘I can see that, but I didn’t send them. This one … last week – you don’t surely imagine I would say that about you?’ Tom’s eyes were dead, blank, and his mouth was set in a thin line, daring her to contradict him. ‘Are you going completely mad?’

Actually, Holly did doubt her sanity at this moment in time, but Tom’s denials seemed genuine for once. Then again, he had always been good at playing the helpless academic fumbling through life, destined for greatness. He was an excellent speaker and an expert manipulator.

‘Who else has access to your phone?’

He shook his head. ‘Nice one, Holly, but Beth would never do anything so petty.’

‘And I would? How could I possibly send texts to myself from your phone? I didn’t even finish my first year at uni, remember, Tom.’ She couldn’t help but let the bitterness seep out and instantly regretted it as he pounced.

He stood up, shaking his head, buttoning his jacket. ‘You’ve lost the plot, Holly. I don’t know what’s going on but I’m having serious doubts about your state of mind at the moment. First the accident, now these odd accusations. Perhaps you need to see someone? I only came to check Milo was okay after the accident, so I’ll go and see him for a bit. You’re right, we can email about childcare arrangements.’ His square chin was set, like Milo’s when he was being stubborn about something. His eyes were contemptuous. ‘I’m sure you’ll see, in time, why Milo would be better off with me. You’ll never keep up with the repayments and pay the bills on your wages. I’ll wait and see how long it takes you to dig yourself into a hole, Holly, and then I’ll take my son to live with me, where he belongs. You can’t offer him anything.’

‘I’m his mum .’ Furious that her voice came out as a hissing whisper, Holly fought back tears.

He was already halfway out the door. ‘So? As I said, you nearly killed him in a car crash, and you work all hours so he hardly sees you. Perhaps it isn’t just work, maybe you go out with other men too, leaving your son alone in the house. That doesn’t sound like a good mother to me.’

‘What the fuck? I would never do that. You’re the one who was unfaithful, and you’re also the reason I have to work overtime.’ Her throat was choked with tears now, and the fire of fury was burning in her chest. Trapped, he had her trapped. Well, it wouldn’t work. No matter how hard she had to work, or what she had to do, he was never going to have Milo full time. Hopefully Beth would get pregnant soon, and a new baby would take his attention. Holly heard voices in the garden, Milo laughing, the sound of a ball bouncing off the wooden fence.