scoot down the hill without us!’
‘It’s OK, Mrs Gordon, I kept an eye on him.’ Mrs Spencer, the lollipop lady, appears next to me, lollipop in hand. ‘He said you were just coming – got carried away, I expect.’ She gives a little chuckle before returning to her post on the opposite side of the road.
‘Henry, come here.’ I crouch down to his level, meeting him face to face. ‘That was naughty – you must never scoot away like that again.’ Tears fill his eyes, making me feel awful, so I pull him in tight for a hug. ‘Don’t cry – it’s done now, but you must never do it again. What’s that around your mouth? Chocolate? Did Mrs Spencer give it to you? You shouldn’t really take sweets from people, baby, even if you know them.’
‘It wasn’t Mrs Spencer, Mummy.’ Henry’s tears are forgotten now, and he takes his scooter back from where Lila stands, holding the handlebars in one hand. He starts to scoot slowly ahead of me, towards home. ‘It was Mr P. You know, the shop man.’ I turn back towards the window of the small convenience store, where the man who served me the other day, Mr P., stands watching us through the grubby glass.
I am just getting ready to leave for my next appointment with Dr Bradshaw when the phone rings. I’m in two minds whether to answer it or not, seeing as I’m already well on my way to being late, but snatch up the receiver at the last minute in the hope that it’s Mark. I’ve barely spoken to him since he left, what with the time difference and the fact he has to use a satellite phone in the more remote areas he finds himself in. It means he quite often can’t get a signal, but we have emailed backwards and forwards when we can and I have managed to reassure him that, with Lila’s help, everything at home is running smoothly in his absence. I pick up the receiver quickly before it can ring out, but it’s not Mark’s voice on the end. Instead, the warm, honey-rich tones of my best friend come down the line, immediately bringing a smile to my face.
‘Tess! What time is it for you? It must be early … is everything OK?’ I tuck a stray curl behind my ear and put my door keys back in my bag. Depending on what’s going on with Tessa I’m probably not going to make it to my appointment. Too bad, but things are going really well and I am pretty sure that skipping this appointment won’t make too much of a difference in the grand scheme of things, as long as Dr Bradshaw doesn’t tell Mark.
‘Everything’s good, sweetie, really good. I just wanted to check in on you, what with Mark being away and all the rush up till Christmas. I know you hate doing all that stuff alone.’ Her voice has picked up a slight transatlantic twang after living in New York for the past two years, something that still surprises me every time I speak to her. I’m so used to hearing the South London accent I grew up with, it’s strange to hear the way she pronounces certain words after being away for what feels like forever, but in all honesty is really not that long.
‘I’m OK. Mark’s due back before Christmas and I can sort out presents and stuff. I’ll be OK, I promise. I’ve made a couple of friends … they’re helping.’ I fall silent and wait for Tessa’s reaction – she knows how hard I find it to let people in. She witnessed me fall apart, as a teenager and again after I had Henry – it was she who put me back together again. She was the one I went to when not even my own mother could talk to me. I miss her so much.
‘Really, Steph? That’s brilliant! I’m so glad you’re settling in OK. I’ve been worried about you after everything that’s happened, then Mark dragging you halfway across town. Tell me about these new friends.’ I get Tessa to hang on the line a moment while I take my coat off – I definitely won’t make it to Dr Bradshaw’s office in time for my appointment now, but I make a mental note to call and make a new appointment as soon as I’m done talking to Tessa. I don’t want him telling Mark I haven’t been coming, not when we’ve both said we will make an effort to get our marriage back on track. I head into the kitchen and flick the kettle on as I tell her all about Lila and how we seem to have really become close these past few weeks. I tell her all about how good Lila is with Henry, and how supportive she has been, popping in and keeping me company while Mark has been gone. I realise as I’m speaking that Lila seems to be filling the shoes Tessa stepped out of when she left for New York. Then I mention Laurence, and she seizes on it.
‘Laurence – who is he? You haven’t mentioned him before. Is he handsome?’ I laugh; Tessa has always been the same, completely incorrigible when it comes to men even though she has been in a stable relationship with the wonderful Pierre ever since moving to New York.
‘Yes, handsome. But Tess, I really do like him. I mean, there’s something about him, something that I don’t think I should like, but I do. Like, in the wrong way.’ The line goes quiet as Tessa abruptly stops laughing. I sigh, hating myself for feeling like this about Laurence, but Tessa is the only person I can talk to about it.
‘Shit, Steph, that’s massive. What are you going to do? What about Mark? I know Mark is a total shithead and there’s nobody who dislikes him more than me but … God.’
‘I know, I know. It’s just silly – there’s something about him that feels safe and familiar. He’s a genuinely nice guy, I think. Mark went away and Laurence came over for dinner and he was just so … kind. He gets on so well with Henry; he even played some video game with him last night so I could finish off the dinner in peace. Mark never has time for that stuff with Henry at the moment. And he listened to me, Tess. He listened to me and he didn’t tell me I was imagining stuff, or that I was being paranoid or overreacting. He didn’t ask me if I had missed my appointments with the doctor; he just listened, and made me laugh. I enjoyed his company, that’s all, and it seems like it’s been a long time since I enjoyed Mark’s company.’ A single tear rolls down my cheek as I voice for the first time how I really feel about everything. I love Mark so much, and I desperately want us to work, but he ripped my heart out when he had the affair with Melissa. Tessa sighs, and I can picture her sitting at her desk, even though it’s only seven o’clock in the morning for her, a coffee steaming in front of her as she runs her hands through her short, blonde hair.
‘Steph, you’ve had a nightmare year. Mark’s affair with Melissa pulled the rug out from under you in a split second, and then Mark moves you halfway across London for a “fresh start”, away from everything you feel safe with – which he then decides is all sorted and buggers off to bloody Peru or wherever the hell he’s gone. No wonder you’re feeling a bit up in the air. Add to that the fact you’re pregnant and no one would blame you for feeling confused. You know Mark isn’t my favourite person, but I do really think he loves you. He just made a mistake.’
‘It’s Paraguay,’ I whisper into the phone, as tears course down my cheeks. Tessa always has a way of putting everything back into perspective, making sure I know that everything that happened was in no way my fault, and I love her so much for this.
‘Paraguay, whatever, they’re all the same to me. Now, don’t worry. I don’t think you’re in love with Laurence or anything; you’re just feeling a bit vulnerable. Just enjoy having someone around to look after you while Mark is gone. If he hadn’t been such a prick in the first place none of this would ever have happened – you’d still be living in your old house with none of this upheaval. Is it all still hush-hush? I’m surprised the papers haven’t got wind of anything.’ Tessa is disparaging towards Mark – she always has been a bit. She always thought he was a bit stuck up, but since his affair with Melissa Davenport she really can’t abide him. I suppose this is because she worked so hard to help me get back to my old self, especially after Henry was born and I was lost in a swirl of post-natal depression, then had to witness me fall apart again. I reassure her that nothing has got out in the papers, that hopefully it never will. I couldn’t stand the smug looks disguised as sympathy at the school gates. Who could stand comparison with Melissa Davenport? Certainly not me. I tell her about my lunch with Belinda and how the subject of interviewing Melissa came up.
‘Oh, God. What did you say?’ I hear the sharp intake of breath as Tessa lights a cigarette.
‘I said