Page 51 of Such a Good Couple
‘Oh my God! No!’ Erica staggered a bit as she tried to form a reply but Maggie had already swept through the gap between Fionn and Alabama and beelined for Clara.
‘I didn’t mean thatat all.’ Erica was babbling, while Fionn stared after Maggie, looking shocked. He immediately started to follow her but just then an A-list actor Annie couldn’t remember the name of stepped into his path. ‘Finn, buddy! My agent tells me you got the script. I know we’re not talking business tonight but I just really wanted to tell you in person that I wrote the role for you.’
Annie stepped around them and went after Maggie and Clarawho she had spotted ducking out of the other end of the tent and into the darkness beyond, where the waves were crashing on the sand.
As Annie left the clamour of the tent behind, her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the huge ocean and sky before her. She moved towards the silhouettes of Maggie and Clara, who were sitting watching the silver-edged waves breaking a few feet in front of them.
Clara’s ranting tone was unmistakable over the roar of the surf, while Maggie’s replies were quiet, only perceptible by the small silences that punctuated Clara’s tirade.
‘Gals,’ Annie called. They were cross-legged, their shoes dumped beside them.
Maggie and Clara looked up and immediately shuffled over to open up a little Annie-sized gap between them. Annie settled herself in and Clara dropped her head to Annie’s shoulder. ‘All of the guys …’ she fumed. ‘I don’t know who to hate the most.’
‘Don’t hate Fionn on my behalf.’ Maggie was drawing patterns in the sand.
‘But what was he doing showing up with Alabama Gere?’ Clara clearly wasn’t seeing the warning grimace Annie was shooting her way.
‘It’s his work.’ Maggie shrugged. ‘I’m gonna head to bed.’ She pulled herself up. ‘Sorry, I’m just pretty beat.’ Annie couldn’t make out her expression in the dim light before she turned and left.
Annie and Clara watched her head back, giving the tent a wide berth, slipping down the side passage of the house and presumably entering through the front.
‘Have you spoken to Conor at all tonight?’ Clara asked.
‘No.’ Annie rubbed her arms briskly; this late in the night, the sand was chilly and unpleasantly clammy. Annie could feel her dress absorbing the damp. ‘I’m putting it off for as long aspossible. What about you and Ollie?’
‘Oh, same.’ Clara slouched defeatedly. ‘You and Conor are so lucky. At least you can make a pretty clean break.’
‘Did you just say I’m so lucky? About my relationship of twenty years ending?’
Clara straightened up again. ‘Oh my God. Am I just saying and doing all the wrong things on this cursed holiday?’
‘Yes,’ Annie answered without hesitation.
Clara gave a depressed little laugh. ‘What are we going to do about everything?’
‘Who knows?’ Annie gazed forward at the glittering horizon. ‘Who fucking knows?’
CHAPTER 14
It was 8 a.m. and Clara was already sweating, despite having done nothing more than wake up, brush her teeth and dress and feed her boys. Nobody warned you that parenting was cardio; there was a lot left out of the beatific posts on Insta. It had been three weeks since they’d arrived back from Provincetown and to say things had been tense was such an understatement it verged on comical. This morning, she had yet to lay eyes on Ollie. When she’d come downstairs at seven, he’d already stashed away the duvet and pillow from the couch in the TV room and disappeared out of the house.
Now that they were barely on speaking terms and Clara was apparently the Worst In The World™, he was done with trying to be considerate about his marathon training. He was gone for hours at a time with no notice or explanation whatsoever.
She glanced over at the chaotic family calendar on the fridge. At 11 a.m. that day was ‘CC’ – code for couples counselling. Maybe today would bring some clarity to the situation. She definitely wasn’t up for being the Cheating Bitch Wife From Hell™ for the rest of her life.
It was their first session with a man called Dr Evans. She’d tried to push for a woman but since it was Ollie who’d actually made the effort to arrange everything, she’d had to accept her fate: being trapped having to tolerate not one but two men talking about feelings. She rolled her eyes and started speed-tidying the kitchen. Weetabix seemed to be encrusted to everybowl in the house.Why does he refuse to steep anything?After some aggressive chiselling, she frisbeed the bowls and the rest of the dishes into the dishwasher. Then shoved it closed, employing the special knack required. She doubted Ollie even knew there was a knack. Maybe she could bringthatup at the appointment.Sure I kissed someone else and there may have been some light hand-to-boob contact, but Ollie does nothing around the house. Just keeping the boys alive, while I’m out at work, seems to take every ounce of his focus.
Although, she knew this wasn’t entirely fair … if pressed, she wouldn’t be able to name who their home insurance provider was. Or whether or not the car was taxed. She didn’t even know for definite that cars needed to be taxed. But what good is having the admin sorted when you live in a literal sea of shite?
‘Muma!’ A shriek interrupted her thoughts. She grabbed the cloth and ducked out to the dining room to see who’d called her.
It was Reggie. ‘Muma, I-I-I-I. Dodo, Muma. Muma?’ At three, his demands could be a bit mystifying.
‘That’s lovely, sweetheart.’ She kissed his soft little head and began wiping the crumbs and abandoned crusts on the table into her hand.
The front door slammed and the boys all bolted out to the hall.
‘Dad!’ They jostled to be the first to greet Ollie.
