Lisa Hall - Between You and Me

‘Thank you, Sal.’ Mrs Wilson hands me a steaming cup of strong, brown tea. ‘You’re a gem – and Maggie is a little dote. You’re lucky; you have the perfect family. Make the most of it – they grow up too quickly.’ I give her a small smile and look down at my cup. Perfect? I’m not too sure about that.

An hour later, as Maggie and I come strolling down our street, swinging our hands together and occasionally jumping over the cracks in the pavement, I realise you are outside in our front garden, talking to Laura. Usually I wouldn’t worry too much, but following on from yesterday’s illicit trip to the beach, which I was too ashamed to tell Laura should be kept secret, my heart starts to beat a little faster, and I feel hot and clammy.

‘Everything OK?’ I try a wobbly smile in your direction.

‘Of course, you silly thing, why wouldn’t it be?’ You squeeze my shoulder affectionately. ‘Laura was just telling me about your little trip yesterday. I’m not surprised you didn’t mention it, after being so tired yesterday evening.’

‘Oh, yes. We didn’t go out for too long, just to get the kids some fresh air, that’s all. I meant to tell you but … well, I was asleep when you came in.’

‘You’re lucky, Laura. Sal’s been extremely busy this week, haven’t you, Sal? Indoors all week, making the most of being home with Maggie, I should think, before school starts. I’m surprised Sal could find the time to spend a whole day out!’ You put your arm around me proprietarily, clutching me ever so slightly too tightly.

Laura flicks her eyes towards me, almost an apology, as she obviously didn’t realise I hadn’t told you we’d been out.

‘Well, Charlie, I realise that. I haven’t seen Sal or Maggie all week – unusual since you live next door, eh? I almost thought you guys were avoiding me!’ Laura gives a little laugh, and Charlie joins in. Despite the supposed hilarity, you could cut the air with a knife.

‘Of course not, Laura. You’re our neighbour, aren’t you? You must come over for dinner soon. I know this lovely chap at work – he’d be perfect for you.’

‘In all honesty, Charlie, I’m not really looking, but I appreciate the offer. Dinner would be nice. Sal, I’ll catch up with you in the week, OK? We can make an arrangement for dinner then.’ Laura turns to go back into the house and, feeling awkward, I face you, unsure of exactly what I’m going to find. Maggie runs into the house, intent on carrying out whatever game she’s cooked up on the way home. You stare at me, eyes cold like chips of blue ice.

‘Get indoors, Sal. That chicken will be getting cold.’

Chapter Twelve

CHARLIE

To say that I’m furious is an understatement. Sal’s deceitfulness and constant lies are ruining our relationship. I find myself feeling more and more wound up all the time and it’s all Sal’s fault. How difficult can it be to just be honest? I don’t feel like I can trust anything Sal says and it’s just adding to the pressure I’m already under at the office.

When Sal and Maggie leave to go to the park, I decide I’ve had enough of sitting around and head out to the driveway – my pride and joy sits on the drive, gleaming, looking more beautiful than anything else I’ve ever owned. A 2014 BMW X5, black and sleek. Practical in that it has five seats (to keep Sal happy, though God knows we are definitely not going to have any more children, no matter how much Sal bitches about it) and expensive enough to keep me happy.

Growing up we had very little in our family. My stepdad was a hard worker who kept my mum at home so she could look after me, but for all his hard work we still went without, as my dad thought nothing of spending all his wages in the pub on a Friday night, leaving us with nothing for the week ahead. He was partial to a whisky and woe betide anyone who tried to stop him. He was a hard bastard, who ruled our house with an iron fist. I swore blind from when I was a child that I would never go without, once I was an adult. This car is my testimony to that – Sal has to drive it through the week and I keep an eye on the mileage, but at weekends she is my baby, for me to enjoy.

I unlock the driver’s door and peer in to see if Sal is keeping it as tidy as I have requested. Sal grew up in a family that had whatever they wanted and doesn’t seem to understand that things demand respect. Sal never had to wear clothes from a car-boot sale, or watch as all the other kids got to go on school trips. As I peep through into the back seats, something catches my eye on the floor. A baby’s bottle has rolled under the passenger seat and lies there; the tiny amount of milk left in it already turned curdled and sour. In the footwell, in front of the bottle, lies a sprinkling of sand. I feel my pulse start to race and the first feelings of anger spread through my body, leaving my face red and my fists clenched. Sal lied to me AGAIN. This is the only explanation – after promising to stay at home with Maggie yesterday, after not mentioning a single word about the fact that they may or may not have gone on a trip to the beach yesterday, the proof is lying in the footwell of my pride and joy. To add insult to injury, the fact that Sal couldn’t even be bothered to keep the bloody car clean just hammers home exactly how much respect Sal has for my possessions and for me.

Shaking with fury I march back into the house, powerless to stop the anger that courses through my body. There’s only one way to teach Sal the meaning of respect. There’s only one way to show Sal exactly how it feels when someone disrespects you and disrespects your things, the things that you’ve worked hard for and that you hold dear. I’ll make sure that the lesson about respect doesn’t get forgotten again, that’s for sure.

Chapter Thirteen

SAL

You usher me back towards the house, a rigid smile on your face all the while. Feeling a little off balance, I pause for a moment before I open the front door and hold it open while trying to juggle the shopping bags. You sweep in ahead of me, leaving me to close the door one-handed. Following you through to the kitchen, I start to put the shopping away, all the time a sense of unease growing inside me.

‘You never mentioned that you and Maggie went to the beach yesterday.’ Your voice is like ice water dripping down my neck.

‘No, well, like I said outside, Charlie, I fell asleep before you even came home and then there wasn’t really a lot of time for talking before you went up to bed, was there?’ I feel my spine straighten, as I stand a little taller. Do I really have to explain myself? Do I really have to tell Charlie every time I leave the house? Surely this is not the norm for most other couples? I’m starting to feel as though I’m not sure how much more of this I can take – the constant accusations of lying, the permanent state of mistrust.

‘I just thought you might have mentioned it, that’s all. Seeing as you said you didn’t have any plans. You said you were going to stay home with Maggie all day, sorting the house and doing some gardening.’

‘Laura suggested it and I agreed; it would have been a waste of a day to stay indoors.’ I am determined not to back down on this one – I did nothing wrong, unless taking your daughter out to enjoy the sunshine is doing the wrong thing. ‘And Maggie enjoyed herself. She can’t stay home every day, just on the off-chance…’ I trail off. My little spark of courage has burnt out and I am worried about antagonising you further.

‘ Just on the off-chance? Just on the off-chance of what exactly? That I might call and try to speak to my own child? That I might call to check and see if you’re OK? Going out with that tramp from next door is more important than building a home for your family, is it?’ Your eye twitches with that telltale tic, the one that prewarns me you’re about to lose your temper.