Last night was dinner with the ex. I marinated the chicken wings. He seemed to enjoy them. He certainly ate more than his share. As he chewed his way through yet another wing he remarked that I used to do this same marinade with lamb and it was better…there was more meat. Daughter said “that was when we had more money”.
Ex looked shocked. He glanced at daughter to see if she was fading away.
I mentioned that I heard that the second hand car business was doing well.
“Not enough cars” he said.
Pardon
“There are not enough cars. That’s the problem. That is why we have to put the prices up. Companies are keeping their fleets for longer. It doesn’t mean that personally I am doing any better”.
I registered what he said and passed the tomato salad.
“Don’t you make that cucumber salad with yoghurt any more?”
Yes, but I didn’t have any cucumber. I had tomatoes.
Ex looked around the table. The baby was cooing in our high chair. Daughter was looking positively radiant. Ex smiled at me. “This is nice” he said.
“Mum is going to Pentonville”. The daughter informed him.
“What!”
“She’s going to interview a criminal for one of the weekend supplements. Good isn’t it? Oh, and she makes cakes now. And she writes “Do it yourself” pamphlets.”Well, one actually. One do it yourself pamphlet on how to install a lavatory.
“But you would not have the first idea how to install a lavatory?”
Barry helped.
“Who is Barry?”
The Bailiff.
“The what!”
Harriet let me go. I told you.
The ex looked at me. I knew that look. The “melting eyes” look. Thank God, I am now immune to all that soft caring rubbish.
“I wish I could do more. You are so brave”
I expected a comment exactly like that.
“Shall we play monopoly?” The daughter said. We both stopped still. If you listened hard you would’ve heard both our hearts beating. The daughter always loved to play monopoly with us on a Saturday night. It was her treat, a “take away” and monopoly with Mum and Dad. She is a demon player.
I can’t bear to look at my ex. Monopoly with Mum and Dad was a game in the past, when there was “happy ever after.” She won’t play with me now, ever. I glance over at my ex. He looks as if he has been winded. Good! Time he realised that even when Mum and Dad are over each other, divorce goes on hurting, when you’re the child.
We cleared the table together. The ex stacked the dishwasher. And whilst he was about it, he fixed the dodgy connection on the plug.
Monopoly was laid out on the table. The daughter had put her half sister in her “high end” portable cot. She was quite simply thrashing us! She had four hotels and I was in prison. The ex wasn’t doing much better. He was all but bankrupt.
The front door opened.
Michael!
He came into the sitting room. The ex. bristled.
The daughter and I said “hello”.
Michael muttered we looked very cosy. Was there anything to eat?
The ex asked if Michael paid his way.
Michael replied that the ex. certainly didn’t. Sometimes I was burrowing into the bottom of handbags to find an odd coin …to make ends meet, for a school lunch or an outing!
I wasn’t going to have that kind of talk in front of the daughter. I told them both to shut up.
The ex left. Michael and I had a humongous row. He said he thought he was protecting me. I said he mucked up a good evening, an evening that was for the daughter. I was furious with him. I left him slamming out the front door and ran up to the daughter. She was sitting calmly on her bed playing with the baby. What was the baby still doing here?
“Michael isn’t any good for you, Mum. He uses you. I don’t want to hurt you but he pops up when he needs a place to stay or some food to eat. And Dad uses you too.
Isn’t there anyone you can rely on?”
I give her a hug, a hug that goes on and on. The kind that makes you both feel better. She dries my tears. I stroke her hair. She curls into me and almost weeps. I want her to weep, or yell and behave badly. She has too much responsibility.
We are bathing the baby when the door bell rings. It’s the ex. He is sorry. He has forgotten something. The baby! After he has heaved everything out of the house, I clear up the monopoly and settle back into a chair with a glass of wine. I have the maddest thought. The only man in my life who seems to be at all concerned about me is Barry!
