I didn’t invite him for anything more than dinner, I promise. Enticing him into my bed was not on my agenda.
It was supposed to be a discussion about the kids, until I asked him what was troubling him and it turned into something else. Cards were laid on the table, by both of us. I told him what I thought about the witch and how she’d operated, how I believed she’d sensed his needs and manipulated him. He didn’t deny any of it. Looking back, I realised just how easily and smoothly she’d done it, and when I did, I saw, for the first time, that she’d been even cleverer than I’d thought. She’d manipulated me as well.
I’d been persuaded that the gulf between Bob and me was too big and that the most important thing for us to do was whatever would be best for the children. He said the words, but I’m sure she put most of them in his head. I went along with it with nary a murmur. I decided to make myself scarce, to accept a no-fault divorce and go back to the USA, seeing the kids in the holidays, with their father having custody during term time. For the only time in my life, I gave up without a struggle. Yes, it may have worked to my advantage financially, but if I’d believed that the children would have been better off in America, that wouldn’t have mattered.
When I told Bob to get me a glass and pour me some of the wine he’d brought, what I was really saying was, ‘To hell with that! Let battle commence.’ And when I fight, there are no rules.
Just before that I’d made a crack about indifferent sex, and I reckon it was right on the button. I’ve never known him hungrier. After I’d kissed him. . I’m not certain who made the first move, but I suspect it was me. . the only thing I said to him, for the rest of the night, was ‘Phone Trish.’ He did; I heard him tell her he’d be very late and that she should lock up. By the time he’d finished, I was waiting for him, in the bedroom where only Seonaid and I had slept since I moved into the house.
I have no idea when I finally nodded off, but I do know it wasn’t for long. I have difficulty describing how I felt when I woke and saw him there, his grey-stubbled face half-buried in the pillow, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. It took my mind a second or two to adjust, to reassemble the pieces of the night before, and as it did a feeling washed through me like a great cleansing wave, leaving behind it a sense of. . What?
Not deja vu, for this was no vague feeling, it was reality.
Not triumph, for Bob could never be a trophy, another notch on my bedhead.
Not guilt, hell no, for we hadn’t done anything that was going to trouble my conscience.
Homecoming. A sense of homecoming; that’s the phrase that fits it best, the way you feel at the end of a long journey, when you’re back where you belong, in the place you love.
His right arm lay across my hip. It moved, very slightly, then he farted, quietly. That made me smile; it was just like old times. His eyelid lifted slightly and I caught a glimpse of confusion, then it widened and he was awake.
He rolled on to his side, facing me, then pushed himself up on his left elbow. I looked at him properly, in daylight, for the first time. His body hadn’t changed much, since the last time I’d seen it. If anything it was leaner, and his muscles were firmer; to most eyes, that would seem good, but not to mine. When Bob’s content, he tends to put on a little weight. ‘Where is it?’ he murmured, drowsily.
‘What?’ I was still grinning.
‘The fuel can.’ He yawned. ‘Christ, talk about pouring petrol on a fire.’
‘Are you going to blame me for that?’ I asked.
‘No, not for a second.’
‘Are you going to blame yourself?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘For what?’
‘I think it’s called adultery. There are cultures where it’s still a capital crime.’
I reached up and grasped a clump of chest hair; that’s still dark, unlike his beard and his scalp. ‘And you’re very good at it. And you’ve got form. You’ve got a rap sheet as long as your arm.’
A corner of his mouth flickered. ‘Pot. Kettle. Black.’
‘Yeah. So?’
‘Are you going to grass me up?’
I shook my head. ‘Never. I will never compromise you in any way, not ever again.’
‘Why not? You’ve got cause.’
‘Because I love you, fool.’
‘Honey,’ he began.
‘That doesn’t mean I want you back,’ I added, very quickly. ‘I’m settled here. I don’t want to uproot myself again; hell, I won’t. Also, the kids are used to us now, the way we are, and they’re happy with it. Change that and we’d only confuse them. No, lover. Whatever happens to your domestic situation, I’m happy with mine. If this is a one-off,’ I flashed my eyes at him, ‘or rather a three-off, so be it.’
He sighed. ‘You’re some woman, you know that.’
‘Yes, I do know.’
‘Maybe too much for me.’
‘Don’t bullshit me,’ I told him, ‘or lie to yourself.’
‘In that case,’ he said, his smile widening as he slid down beside me once more, ‘remember that quirk of mine when we went out for a drink?’
I got his drift. ‘Oh yes,’ I edged closer to him. ‘You never finished on an odd number.’
Later, I made him breakfast, while he showered. I know, without asking him, that he checked the cabinets in my bathroom for razors, shaving cream and all the other guy stuff. . you can take the man out of CID, etc. . but there’s never been any for him to find. If I’d known that our encounter was going to happen I might have bought some, out of pure bitchiness, but on reflection I’m glad that I didn’t.
Just watching him eat, up at the kitchen bar, unshaven and still drowsy, gave me the wobbles again. ‘What are we going to do, babe?’ he asked, after he’d washed the last of his toast down with the orange juice that I’d made him take, instead of coffee. He drinks way too much of that stuff.
‘We?’ I began. ‘I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. Once you’re gone I’m going to lie in a warm bath and soothe some parts that haven’t seen any action for a while. Then I’m going to do some housework and prepare some lectures for next week. That’s the short term. After that, I plan to carry on as before. How about you?’
‘Honestly?’ he said.
‘There can be no other way between us from now on.’
He nodded. ‘I’ll buy into that. In which case. . I haven’t a fucking clue. I don’t know anything any more. I’m not sure why I married Aileen, I’m not sure why you and I divorced, I’m not even sure why we married in the first place.’
I laughed. ‘Bob, you’re a serial marrier; you’re an automatrimonialist. How about that for a new word? You can’t help it; it’s what you do. That’s what. .’ I had been going to say, ‘. . made you a soft touch for her,’ but that might have ruined the moment.
‘Never again,’ he declared. ‘Seriously though. What should I do? Tell me. I’ll make allowances for your natural bias, I promise.’
‘Don’t let it fester, that’s all I can say; we did, and that was wrong. Clearly, you’ve got a problem. You have to face up to it, both of you. But whatever you do you, big boy, have to be able to look me in the eye afterwards and make me believe it was worthy of you.’
‘What if Aileen comes back from Glasgow tonight,’ he asked, ‘and tells me that I was right and she was wrong and she’s withdrawing support from the police bill? Will we have a problem then?’
I frowned at him. ‘Will she say that before or after she tells you that she’s pregnant by the Holy Spirit?’
He chuckled. ‘Sure, I know it’s that unlikely. . but what if?’
‘Then she’ll have compromised her principles. How will that make you feel? Are you gonna admire her for her courage or think less of her for her weakness?’ I put my hand on his cheek and made him look at me.
‘Bob, my darling,’ I said, ‘you’re asking me questions that only you can answer. All I can tell you is what I see in you, now, with the benefit of time apart and a little objectivity. I see a man who’s put so much into his career that he has nothing left for himself. I see a man who’s in a state of complete emotional confusion, because he can’t define his existence outside the police force any longer. You said as much last night.’
‘I suppose I did,’ he conceded. ‘And how long do you think it’s been going on?’
‘Probably since Alex left home; but it’s coming to an end.’
‘What makes you a psychology expert?’ he asked, but lightly, not challenging me.
‘I’m a Bob Skinner expert, that’s all; number one in my field.’
‘You’d rank yourself above Alex, would you?’
‘Yes, because she’s too close. I’m standing a little further back than I used to, so I can see you better.’
‘If you’re right,’ he ventured, ‘given your diagnosis, without treatment what’s the prognosis?’
‘You crash and burn as a husband. That’s happening already. Then it begins to affect your judgement and you’re no longer the cop you were either. You probably still function in the job, but you become what you’ve never wanted to be, a wholesale delegator, like Jimmy Proud, but without his skill and subtlety. Effectively, you let Maggie and Mario lead the force, and you push paper around your desk till gold watch time. Then you retire and you have no idea who the hell you are, or what. You pick up a few non-executive directorships, but you don’t contribute much and feel like a prostitute. At home, Mark’s at college, James Andrew’s halfway through high school, and Seonaid. . you still won’t really know who she is. Anyway, by then she’ll be living with me; maybe they all will and you’ll be alone, playing golf obsessively and drinking too much.’
‘Only there won’t be a force for me to have left,’ he pointed out, ‘once this bill goes through, not one that I’ll want any part of.’
‘And that’s what scares you most. That’s what’s brought you to the tipping point, the prospect of losing the only stable part of your existence. She can see that fear, because she isn’t so close to you that she’s blind to it, and she thought she could play on it to make you back the bill.’
He stared at his plate for a while. ‘That’s not the only scary part,’ he whispered. ‘What you said earlier, that future you painted for me. The man you described just now was my father. That’s what he’d become by the time he died. Alex has virtually no memory of him.’
He blinked, hard. ‘So, Doc, what’s the treatment?’
‘The facing of some facts,’ I replied, ‘the main one being that Myra is dead, that she ain’t coming back, and that she was a one-off you can’t use as a template for a living partner. The second is that you are far bigger than any police force, not the other way around. If circumstances make you quit, it’s not the end of your useful life; it may be the beginning. Accept those truths and everything else will work out, for you will be able to see clearly again.’
‘So I should back off from opposing the single force?’ he ventured. ‘Is that what you’re saying?’
‘Hell no! You truly are opposed to it, and you alone can put the case against; nobody else will. You’d hate yourself for ever if you ducked out of that. You’d feel like her fucking lapdog. And by the way, if Aileen did come over to your side, you’d think she was yours.’
He reached out for the orange juice carton a couple of feet away and poured himself some more. ‘Did I really do that to you?’ he asked. ‘Try to turn you into Myra?’
‘Not so much that; you tried to make me live up to her, at least to your vision of her. You may not have realised it, but there wasn’t a single day went by without you talking about her. “There was this time,” you’d begin, or “You know what Myra would have done, don’t you,” as if I possibly could.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, contritely. ‘That must really have pissed you off.’
‘It didn’t until after you were stabbed, and recovered, then you started to reject me, because you had an obsession about her accident not being an accident. I could handle it until then.’
‘Every day?’
I nodded. ‘Every day.’
‘Now that is odd, because I’m sitting here thinking, how often do I mention her to Aileen, and you know what? I don’t believe I do, not ever, not at all. What do you make of that, quack psychologist?’
For a moment I thought he was being sarcastic, but he wasn’t. ‘No,’ I countered. ‘You tell me.’
‘That I can’t see her in the same picture as Myra at all. See, if I did talk about her to you as often as that, I wasn’t comparing you, babe, honest. It was because I had this vision of her being there with us, and looking on, and approving of us. Sometimes I felt her presence, love, I really felt her presence.’ He looked me in the eye. ‘What I’m about to say now, you’ll think is bullshit, but it’s not. That doesn’t happen any more. When I’m in the house with Aileen, in the kitchen or in the garden room or wherever, the only other person I ever think about is you.’
I didn’t know what to make of that one so I didn’t begin to try. Instead I went round to the other side of the bar, to where he sat, gave him a quick hug and told him, ‘You have to be going, honey. Back to our kids.’ I looked up at the kitchen clock: seven twenty five. ‘With a bit of luck, you’ll be there before they’re up and about.’
‘I won’t count on it,’ he said. ‘You know what they’re like when the days are long, like now, especially the wee one.’
‘True. All the more reason to scoot, then.’
‘Yeah.’ He slid off his stool, drew me to him and kissed me. ‘Thanks,’ he whispered.
‘For what?’
He smiled. ‘Dinner,’ he said, ‘and everything that came after it; not least the straight talking. It’s been a while since I let anyone in.’ He paused. ‘And maybe last time I did, I gave away too many secrets.’
I frowned as I looked up at him. ‘Do you have any I don’t know about?’ I asked.
‘One,’ he replied, and a shadow crossed his face. ‘For now I’m keeping it, but I promise I will tell you what it is next time we’re. . like this.’
‘You’re assuming.’
‘I know. . if we’re ever, I should have said.’
I squeezed his butt. ‘That’s all right; you can come back. I’ve never been a mistress before; I think I like it.’
‘Then I really have got some serious thinking to do, but thanks to you, I’m ready for it. Any more heartfelt advice before I go?’
‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘and this is medical. Give up the coffee; it’s the last thing that a man in your emotional state needs. Once you get through withdrawal, you’ll feel a hell of a lot better for it. Do that for us?’
‘Us?’
‘Me and the kids. They don’t need any sort of a junkie dad, and I prefer you straight too.’
‘I’ll try. Promise.’
I watched him from the doorway as he slid into his car, then drove away, with a last wave through the open window.
And then I folded; without warning my legs turned to jelly. I eased myself back to the kitchen and up on to the stool that Bob had been using, then poured the last of the orange juice into his glass. What the hell have I done? I asked myself.
Then I answered. ‘I’ve enjoyed the best sex I’ve had since before the two of us split up. I’ve made no promises and no commitments. And on top of that, I feel better about myself than I have in years.’
So why can’t I smile about it?
‘Because I’m worried about my man. He’s on the edge and I don’t know what he’s going to be like when he comes through it.’
I took the OJ upstairs and had the warm bath I’d promised myself. I put in some crystals, and wallowed for a while, pleased to find that although I was out of practice and had been holding nothing back, I wasn’t sore or even tender. When I’d had enough, I dressed, and began the rest of my day, as I’d described it to Bob. I use a cleaning service, but the kids’ bedrooms needed attention. I’ve never expected Trish to be a domestic as well as a carer.
I put a little less concentration than usual into the tidying of bedrooms and the changing of linen, for my mind was still full and running over. I’d described Bob as a man on the edge, but what the hell was I? I’d been lying to myself, I realised. I hadn’t come back for the job and the kids, not for those considerations alone. I hadn’t planned the night before, and I repeat, I hadn’t invited him for more than dinner, but maybe I’d been waiting for my opportunity all along.
Lecture preparation was out of the question. I owe my students my one hundred per cent attention and they weren’t getting it that day. A little girlfriend time might be a better alternative, I decided, but it was a short list, reduced to one, really, by the obvious truth that I couldn’t call Alex. So I rang Paula Viareggio; she and I have always got on well from the time that Mario and she came out of the closet, when Bob and I helped them along by inviting them to dinner parties as a couple.
‘You busy?’ I asked her once we’d got past the opening exchanges. ‘Or are you just too pregnant to come out and play?’
‘I’d love to, Sarah,’ she said, ‘but I’ve got a social event tonight and I’d better rest up for it. Would you like to drop in here instead, for coffee and a chat? Mario’s out. There’s some stuff going on at work that needs his weekend attention.’
‘Fine by me. I’ll look forward to it. I’ll do some essentials shopping, then come to you. Around eleven thirty suit?’
‘Perfect.’ I thought she’d hang up, but she didn’t. ‘What’s put the bounce in your boobs?’ Paula doesn’t do subtle.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You sound sparkly. Have you got a new man?’
‘Me?’ I laughed. ‘Honestly, no.’ It was the truth; nothing new about him.
I got out of my work clothes and made a list of the things I needed for the house and for the kids when Trish brought them back on the following Monday. I was in the act of reaching for my car keys when the phone rang. ‘Dammit!’ I muttered. Then my heart jumped a little mouthwards. I wasn’t on call, so who. .
I could only imagine one thing: Bob, full of guilt and contrition, and maybe anger, calling to blame me for the mistake he’d made and threatening me with everything short of deportation if I ever breathed a word.
I was half right. ‘Hi,’ he said, quietly. I heard a seagull in the background and guessed he was in the garden on his mobile. ‘I think I’m calling to apologise. I was way out of order last night, moaning to you about my life, and then taking advantage of you.’
‘I see,’ I murmured. ‘There was a point this morning when I told you I still love you, if I remember right. Or didn’t you hear that?’
‘Yes, I heard. The bugger is, it’s mutual.’
‘Then don’t go apologising. I also said I won’t go back to where we were, and I meant that too. As for. . all that sweaty stuff, you were a man in great need of getting his ashes properly hauled. If you’d gone anywhere else for that, then I would have been seriously pissed off. Now chill out. What are you doing anyway?’
‘I’m playing with our daughter, as it happens. That’s it, Seonaid,’ he called out, ‘pass me the ball. You know what, Sarah? She’s gorgeous.’ I had a melting moment, but I wasn’t about to let him in on it.
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘And she knows it too. Enjoy yourselves. I’m going out.’ I hung up and grabbed my keys, but I hadn’t reached the door before the phone rang again. I smiled and picked it up. ‘Yes,’ I chuckled, ‘I still love you in the morning.’
‘That may be too much information, Sarah,’ Joe Hutchison said, solemnly.
‘Then forget you ever heard it,’ I replied cheerfully.
‘I will, although I’m curious about who you thought I might be. I wonder, my dear,’ he continued. I knew it was favour time, ‘My dear’ told me so, ‘I know that you’re not on duty this weekend, but something’s come up.’
My switch to work mode is automatic. ‘Crime scene or major accident?’
‘Crime scene. Thing is, Sarah, our Roshan is fine for run-of-the-mill stuff, but this isn’t something we can ask him to handle alone. It’s multiple and it’s messy. I’d go myself, but my dear wife has plans and besides. .’
You’re the prof, and you’re not getting any younger, I thought, but didn’t say it. ‘Where is it?’ I asked.
‘Leith, near Ocean Terminal. DI Pye is the officer in charge. I’ll let him know you’re coming.’
‘It’s all right, Joe; I have Sammy’s mobile number. I’ll call him myself. As it happens, I was heading for Leith anyway. I’ll tell my chum I’ll be a little late.’