Again, to her
Off to see her again? Jane asked, already knowing the truth. David nodded, eyes fixed on the floor. He shrugged on his coat, patted his pocketskeys, phone, wallet, all present. He could leave.
Jane waited. A word, any word. Sorry, or Ill be back soon. But David simply opened the door and slipped away. The catch clicked softly, almost politely, as if apologising for its owner’s absence.
Jane wandered to the window. The street below glimmered with faint lamp light, and she easily spotted Davids familiar silhouette. He strode quickly, purposefullike a man determined he knew exactly where he belonged. To her. To Anna. To their seven-year-old Sophie.
Jane pressed her forehead to the cold glass.
Shed always known, really. Right from the start, she understood the bargain. When shed met David, hed still been marriedon paper, anyway. Shared surname, family flat, a child. But he hadnt been living with Anna; he was renting a room, only visiting for his daughter.
She cheated on me, David said back then. I couldnt forgive it. Filed for divorce.
And Jane believed him. Oh, how easily shed let herself believeall because she wanted to. Because shed fallen, foolish and desperate, like a teenager. Evenings in pubs, long calls at midnight, their first rainy kiss outside her doorway. And David had looked at her as if she was the only woman in creation.
The divorce came. Then the wedding, and a new flat. Shared plans for the future, talk of children someday.
Then it began.
Phone calls. Dave, Sophie needs medicine, shes ill. Dave, the taps leaking, Ive no idea what to do. Dave, shes crying for you, please come now.
Every time, David would drop everything and go.
Jane had tried to understand. After all, a child is sacredSophie’s blameless, not her fault her parents parted. Of course he should help; of course a good father stays involved. Sometimes David tried to set boundaries with Anna. But she just switched tactics.
Dont come this weekend. Sophie doesnt want to see you. Dont ring, you upset her. She asked why Daddy left us. I didnt know what to say.
And each time, David would break. Whenever he said no to Annas urgent requests, she would twist the knife. A week later Sophie would echo Annas words: You dont love us. You chose another lady. I dont want you to come.
No seven-year-old imagines that herself.
After each visit, David returned shattered and guilty, his eyes dim and tired. And again, he’d rush to Anna the moment she calledfor fear of Sophie turning away, gazing at him with a stranger’s cold eyes.
Jane understood. She did.
But she was exhausted.
Davids figure vanished round the corner. Jane pulled herself from the window, rubbing her browa pink mark lingered where shed pressed against the glass.
The empty flat weighed on her.
It was nearly midnight when she heard the key turn. Still sitting at the kitchen table, Jane hadnt touched her tea; its surface was blanketed in a thin, dark film. Three hours waiting, listening to every creak on the stairs.
David entered quietly, slipped off his coat and hung it with care. He moved delicatelyas if hoping to slip by unnoticed.
What happened this time? Jane was surprised by her own calm. After three hours practising her words, all emotion had burned away to ash.
David paused.
The boiler broke. They needed it fixed.
Jane looked up slowly. He hovered in the doorway, hesitant, gazing at the night-black window behind her.
You dont know how to fix boilers.
I called a plumber.
And you had to wait there? Jane pushed away her cup. Couldnt you call him from here? Over the phone?
David frowned, folding his arms. The silence stretched, thick as treacle.
Do you still love her?
At that, he looked at her sharply, hurt and bitter.
What absolute nonsense. Everything I do is for my daughter. For Sophie! Annas nothing to do with it!
He stepped into the kitchen, and Jane instinctively edged away with her stool.
You knew, when you got involved with me, that I had responsibilities there. You knew I had a child. So what now? Are you going to have a fit every time I go to see my daughter?
Her throat tightened. Jane wanted to reply with pride but instead her eyes stung, and one tear slipped down her cheek.
I thought She faltered, swallowing the lump in her throat. I thought youd at least pretend to love me. Even just act it.
Jane, enough now
Im tired! she shouted, and the sound surprised herharsh and desperate. Tired of being not even secondnot even third! After your ex-wife, after her whims, after broken boilers at midnight!
David slammed his palm against the door frame.
What do you want from me?! Should I abandon my daughter? Refuse to see her?
I want you to choose me, just once! Jane yelled, stumbling to her feet as her cup rocked, tea spilling across the table. Just once, say nonot to me, but to her! To Anna!
Im bloody sick of your tantrums!
David grabbed his coat from the hook.
Where are you going?
The door answered for him, slamming shut.
Jane stood frozen in the kitchen, tea dripping from the table onto the vinyl floor, her head ringing. She grabbed her phone, dialled his number. Ring ring ring The person cannot take your call right now.
Again. And again.
Silence.
Jane sank onto a chair, clutching the phone to her chest. Where had he gone? To Anna, yet again? Or just wandering angry through the night streets? She didnt know, and not knowing made it harder to bear.
The night stretched endlessly.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jane held her phonescreen dark, then lighting up again. Dial his number, listen to the rings, hang up. Type a message: Where are you? Another: Please, answer. And: Im scared. Send, and watch each time a lonely grey tick appearsundelivered. Or delivered, but unread. What difference did it make now?
By four in the morning, Janes tears finally dried up, leaving her hollow and numb. She rose, switched on the bedroom light, and opened the wardrobe.
Enough.
Shed had enough.
The suitcase lay dusty on the top shelf, with a battered tag from a trip years ago. Jane hauled it onto the bed and began piling clothes insidejumpers, jeans, underwearnot sorting, just grabbing whatever she could reach. If he didnt care, neither would she. Let him come home to an empty flat. Let him call and message words shed never read.
Let him find out what it feels like.
By six a.m., Jane was in the hallway. Two suitcases, a shoulder bag, coat thrown on clumsilyone lapel longer than the other. She looked at the bundle of keys in her hand. The right thing now was to remove hers, leave it on the side table.
Her fingers wouldnt obey.
She tugged and picked at the ring but the key wouldnt come off. Her hands trembled; suddenly tears welled again, impossible though it seemed.
Oh, for goodness sake!
The keyring clattered to the tiles. Jane stared at it a moment, then sat down hard on her suitcase, wrapped herself in her arms, and wept. Loudly, messily, gasping like a child whos shattered her mums favourite vase and thinks the worlds ended.
She never heard the door open.
Jane
David sank down before her, right on the cold hallway floor. He smelt of smoke and the night air.
Jane, Im sorry. Truly sorry.
She raised her head, her tear-stained face streaked with black mascara. David gently took her hands in his.
I went to see Mum. Spent the whole night there. God, she really put me straight He gave a crooked smile. Told me a few home truths, you know?
Jane said nothing. Just looked at him, unsure if she dared believe.
Ill take Anna to court. Demand proper visiting rights with Sophieofficial, set in stone. She wont be able to twist things, or turn Sophie against me any more.
His grip on Janes hands tightened.
Im choosing you, Jane. Do you hear me? You. Youre my family.
A small hope sparked inside her chestfragile, foolish, stubborn, after shed tried all night to stamp it out.
Really?
Really.
Jane closed her eyes. She would believe David. One last time. And thenwell, whatever may come.
