Page 54 of Such a Good Couple
‘What?’ She swivelled to fully face him. ‘Ollie. Lol. We couldn’t evenaffordthat – don’t be stupid.’
Suddenly Ollie stood and, with his back ramrod straight, walked to the door. Clara struggled to compute what she wasseeing. Where the hell was he off to?
With his back to the room, Ollie spoke quietly but firmly: ‘Listen to how you talk to me.’ Then he left the room.
Shocked, Clara gripped the arms of her chair, her thoughts rushing between two courses of action: go after him, or burst into tears.
In the end, she did neither. She just remained in her seat feeling winded.He left??
‘That came as a shock, Clara?’ Dr Evans asked gently.
She could only nod.
‘We still have time. We can finish out the session with some of your—’
‘No.’ Clara didn’t let him finish. ‘Thank you,’ she added, ‘but no. I just want to … I should get back to work.’
‘No problem.’ He nodded. ‘My secretary will forward the bill on Monday, no need to worry about payment today,’ he said as if this was some incredibly compassionate gesture.
Clara checked her pockets to see that she had everything, and made her way out.
On the street, she tried to steady herself – what was happening? How was he the one who got to storm out?
She took out her phone and typed a message to Ollie: Announcing that you want to separate just to punish me is pretty fuckin immature.
Her head thrummed with irritation as she watched Ollie typing.
Ollie: I didn’t say that to punish you, that’s something YOU would do, frankly. I said it because I feel it.
Clara stared at the words, fear rising over her annoyance.He’s serious?She debated replying but the shred of pride she was clinging to stopped her.He is being so ridiculous, so childish.
She could see he was still typing. Another message dropped in.
Ollie: Enjoy the party tonight. Tell your mum that I’ll be finished at the O’Malleys’ place by 9 so prob get home about quarter past.
Clara gaped at her phone. It was a warm day in the city and hurried people streamed around her like she was in the middle of racing rapids. Eventually, with no idea what else to do, she turned in the direction of her bus stop and joined them.
That night Clara did her make-up in the corner of the attic to the thumping soundtrack of Tom and Reggie taking turns jumping from the bed to the chest of drawers and back again.
Beside her, Josh was watching her intently. ‘Are the lines on your eyes supposed to be straight?’
‘Ha.’ She leaned closer to the tiny, grubby mirror she’d propped up under the skylight. ‘In theory, yes.’ She closed one eye and tried to tidy up her admittedly abysmal efforts. Maggie was so lucky, she was being glammed to within an inch of her life by professionals at that very moment. She’d asked Clara and Annie if they wanted to join her and her mum and sister for it but Clara couldn’t get out of the house any earlier. Her own mother liked to keep her grandmotherly duties like helping with the boys to the bare minimum.
Josh picked up a cotton bud and suggested she start over.
‘Thanks, but I truly cannot be bothered.’
A particularly loud thump from Reggie bouncing off the bed startled them and Josh got up with hands on hips and went over. ‘This house was built nearly 150 years ago and it is holding onby a thread, you two.’
Clara laughed. It was verbatim what she was constantlytelling them as they dangled from banisters and sat on the top of doors, swinging back and forth like miniature lemurs. Psychotic ones.
Josh intercepted Reggie as he scrambled to get back up on the drawers. ‘No more jumping, boys.’ He sounded more authoritative than Clara ever did.He’ll be a good co-parent if I end up on my own, she thought sadly, watching them in the mirror.
At the sound of the knocker downstairs, all three boys immediately snapped to attention and then fled the room at speed. The noise of them flying down three flights of stairs made her smile and also made her grateful that she didn’t have a visual on it – having three extremely rowdy kids was round-the-clock, heart-stopping anxiety. She could hear them dragging her mum into the hall with exuberant shouts.
Clara stood, and stooped to see what she could of herself in the mirror they had nailed to the back of the attic door. She looked grand. The dress was an oldy but a goody – a dark red strappy number with a plunging neckline. She added some big gold hoops and pulled her thick dark hair into a ponytail – casual to offset the pretty revealing outfit.
In her gold strappy heels, she took the stairs carefully. Downstairs, her mother Jean was distributing bags of Haribo to the boys.
