Page 87 of When We Are Old
“Why can’t you come, Matthew?” Julie’s voice screeched with glass-shattering heights, but behind it, behind her question, I could sense a taunting superiority. It made my heart weigh heavy in my immobilised chest. “You aren’t working. You don’t have anything better to do.”
“Who is it?” Hannah cut into my eavesdropping.
“Shh.”
I waited for him to answer, waited for him to say that I was here, and I was getting to know the kids.
“I’m working on the shop, you know that.”
“Ah, the shop. Always the shop with you.”
No, he was working me over… at least he should have been.
“Julie, don’t.” He sounded exhausted.
“Please, Daddy. Please,” Jack whined.
There was another pause and then a sigh. “Okay. I’ll pack a bag.”
“See, Jack.” Julie laughed. “Your daddy always knows the right thing to do.”
My heart and I listened and it turned black.
Matthew always did the right thing for everyone. Apart from himself, and if I were being brutally honest, apart from me.
“Come on, Hannah. Let’s go and see if we can track down Angela.”
“But, Mum—”
“No. I don’t want to disturb them all if they're having problems. Anyway, it sounds like Matthew is busy now.”
“Mum, I don’t think—”
“Hannah. Let’s go. I don’t want to see her.” I pulled Hannah down the short path and onto the main road before Julie could open the door and laugh in my face. Then I remembered I had Matthew’s keys. I darted back up the path with the stealth of a jaguar, left them on the mat and sprang back down it again.
“Come on. Let’s see if she fancies pizza.” I tried to smile, but it stretched all awkward.
“Mum, you know he’s divorced right?” Hannah pushed back so she could see me better.
“I know. But marriages don’t end cleanly, Hannah. And I’d say if she’s in his house asking for a family holiday, then it's hardly over at all.”
This was the truth.
I hadn’t seen him the whole of last week after she’d called and made him come back to Scotland. Now just over a week later, she was back and changing his plans with the merest suggestion.
Matthew loved to please everyone apart from himself. That much I knew. I just wished I didn’t.
I looked twice at the building Ange had given us for an address. Paint peeled from the window frames. The window held enough grime to stop passers-by from being able to peer in.
“Well lookie here.”
Ange leant against the door frame, a cigarette in her hand.
“Oh, don’t make a thing.” I waved her with my hand.
“I can only make a thing if it’s a thing.” She smirked. “Is it a thing? Is it the end of Ronnie and Matthew when they’ve only just begun?”
She joked, but it made bile rise up my throat.
