him and let him sleep on the sofa in the run up to Christmas, making him pull his weight as the official babysitter whilst she went out looking for work. Unlike Dad, Mum had a few qualifications and occasionally she’d find temping work in offices. It was always strange to see my mother in a shirt and skirt, her frizzy hair tied up in a bun, which threatened to unravel any second. But for all his supposed responsibility, Dad would merely meander through the house instead or watch daytime television, so usually it was Sal or I who cleaned the kitchen after breakfast and made sure the twins brushed their teeth, or Amanda and Hannah did the washing up when they were supposed to.
And looking further away from home, the false nature of “I will never leave you” still held true as far as I was concerned. Shona’s Dad spent all his time working, away from the family and away from his marriage, preferring instead the company of women whose services he paid for and whom Shona’s Mum pretended did not exist when she reviewed the monthly credit card bill online. Like a typical rebellious teen eager to learn the secrets of her parents, Shona had decoded the password years earlier and upon seeing the names of the companies listed, Googled them. Yet being party to such a discovery was not as coolly clandestine as she had imagined. Shona had agonised for hours with me, wondering if she should tell her mother and if she did,how it would affect their lives. But just days later Shona had seen her mother log in to the same website, Google the names of the companies just as she had done, then simply log off. Shona had waited on tenterhooks all week for her father’s return, sure there would be some kind of major confrontation. Instead, Shona’s mother had merely welcomed Philip back and they had all sat the table together and eaten, just as they always did. Shona told me she felt as if she would explode at first. But as her food congealed on her plate in front of her, Shona realised the distance between her parents – in the same room, yet so many miles apart – and became impossibly sad. Shona instead excused herself instead and went to her room for the rest of the night, MTV on full blast to hide her crying.
Over the years, there had been other associates of my mother’s whose marriages had come under my scrutiny. I had found theirs wanting, too. Nora, my mother’s teacher friend, had had a husband who’d waltzed her down the aisle after a whirlwind romance of moonlight and roses; Hannah and the twins had been bridesmaids. Yet just six months later he was gone, his head turned by another woman at the school just as quickly. Feeling shamed and humiliated just for taking a chance, Nora had applied for every job going, but got none of them. She was forced to watch the pair of them making eyes at each other over the stale biscuits in the staffroom. At first Nora had felt a little triumph: the second wife was plump and plain, unlike Nora who even by the harshest of teenage standards could be described as sophisticated and deeply attractive. I had heard her tell Mum she felt sure that once the honeymoon period of six months was up, her Ex would realise his mistake and at least move on, leaving the husband-stealer in the lurch, as she deserved. But even worse, the second wife lasted the distance, leaving Nora to crucify herself with neverending questions she couldn’t answer:
what had she done – or not done? Whywould he prefer a plump, mousey, plain thing like his second wife? What was it about Nora, which had meant the Ex had felt he could just throw her away like that?
Then there had been the Hutchinsons. They’d occupied the biggest, most splendid house, “Hollyhocks”, which was up on the hill, presiding above the village. Mrs. Hutchinson was in her mid twenties, though she looked much younger: a girl, really. She had a toddler son called Lawrence, which seemed a strangely grown up name for such a small child. Mr. Hutchinson
And looking further away from home, the false nature of “I will never leave you” still held true as far as I was concerned. Shona’s Dad spent all his time working, away from the family and away from his marriage, preferring instead the company of women whose services he paid for and whom Shona’s Mum pretended did not exist when she reviewed the monthly credit card bill online. Like a typical rebellious teen eager to learn the secrets of her parents, Shona had decoded the password years earlier and upon seeing the names of the companies listed, Googled them. Yet being party to such a discovery was not as coolly clandestine as she had imagined. Shona had agonised for hours with me, wondering if she should tell her mother and if she did,how it would affect their lives. But just days later Shona had seen her mother log in to the same website, Google the names of the companies just as she had done, then simply log off. Shona had waited on tenterhooks all week for her father’s return, sure there would be some kind of major confrontation. Instead, Shona’s mother had merely welcomed Philip back and they had all sat the table together and eaten, just as they always did. Shona told me she felt as if she would explode at first. But as her food congealed on her plate in front of her, Shona realised the distance between her parents – in the same room, yet so many miles apart – and became impossibly sad. Shona instead excused herself instead and went to her room for the rest of the night, MTV on full blast to hide her crying.
Over the years, there had been other associates of my mother’s whose marriages had come under my scrutiny. I had found theirs wanting, too. Nora, my mother’s teacher friend, had had a husband who’d waltzed her down the aisle after a whirlwind romance of moonlight and roses; Hannah and the twins had been bridesmaids. Yet just six months later he was gone, his head turned by another woman at the school just as quickly. Feeling shamed and humiliated just for taking a chance, Nora had applied for every job going, but got none of them. She was forced to watch the pair of them making eyes at each other over the stale biscuits in the staffroom. At first Nora had felt a little triumph: the second wife was plump and plain, unlike Nora who even by the harshest of teenage standards could be described as sophisticated and deeply attractive. I had heard her tell Mum she felt sure that once the honeymoon period of six months was up, her Ex would realise his mistake and at least move on, leaving the husband-stealer in the lurch, as she deserved. But even worse, the second wife lasted the distance, leaving Nora to crucify herself with neverending questions she couldn’t answer:
what had she done – or not done? Whywould he prefer a plump, mousey, plain thing like his second wife? What was it about Nora, which had meant the Ex had felt he could just throw her away like that?
Then there had been the Hutchinsons. They’d occupied the biggest, most splendid house, “Hollyhocks”, which was up on the hill, presiding above the village. Mrs. Hutchinson was in her mid twenties, though she looked much younger: a girl, really. She had a toddler son called Lawrence, which seemed a strangely grown up name for such a small child. Mr. Hutchinson
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