The Last Year Of Being Married. Sarah Tucker

into the world, and he beamed with pride and love that day. And I remember the midwife took Ben away and quickly cleaned him. I said I wanted Ben straight on the breast, and he immediately hooked onto my left nipple and never liked the right as much. And he travelled with me wherever I went, and awoke every two hours for the first three months, and I didn’t mind one bit. I knew then he had a lovely nature. A gentle and kind nature. My sunshine.

      Just a pity my dad never saw him. I was five months pregnant at his funeral. Hope he’s looking down now and smiling on us both. He would have loved this little bundle of joy. Ben’s a cuddler, and the best thing in the world is when he wraps his little arms around me and looks me in the eyes and says, ‘You’re very beautiful, Mummy.’ Because for that brief moment I feel I am.

      Paul is fast asleep. Snoring loudly. Farting silently. Must open windows. Last time I didn’t, and almost threw up when I woke up. Don’t want to be gassed in my sleep.

      Paul still an alien in the morning. Perhaps he thinks I’m one, too.

      Paul—‘God, it’s bloody freezing in here. Why are all the windows open?’

      Sarah—‘Thought we could do with some fresh air.’

      Paul—‘I’m going to be late tonight. Work to do. Don’t wait up.’

      Sarah—‘Okay. Is everything okay?’

      Paul—‘Yes. Have you thought about what I said? About moving out?’

      Sarah—‘No. Don’t think it’s a good idea. I work from here, and this is Ben’s home. It’s easier for you to move into London and get yourself a flat if you need the space.’

      Paul—‘Told you how I feel about that.’

      Sarah—‘Told you how I feel about that.’

      Paul—‘We’ll talk tonight.’

      Sarah—‘We won’t, because you won’t be back till late.’

      Paul—‘The night after that, then. But we need to talk. I need space.’

      Sarah—‘I know you do.’

      Paul—‘I don’t like it when I’m around you.’

      Sarah—‘I know. At the moment I don’t like it when you are around me either.’

      Paul—‘Look, why don’t I give you an allowance of, say, thirty thousand a year, and you can look after Ben and yourself. I’ll even find you a house.’

      Sarah—‘This is madness, Paul. What the fuck is going on?’

      Paul—‘I told you, Sarah. I just need space. Don’t hassle me. Got to go now. Going to be late.’

      Paul—alien, former lover, former friend—leaves bedroom. Prada underpants, smelling of something spicy. Soap on a rope worn out.

      Confused, I get up and see if Ben is awake, so he can wave goodbye to Daddy. Ben is toddling towards me, big smile. ‘Hello, Mummy, hello, Mummy. Can I watch Teletubbies?’

      Sarah—‘Say goodbye to Daddy, Ben.’

      I pick him up and hand him to Paul. Paul’s face warms and softens and he smiles at this little boy and cuddles him, and I think, Hey, these moments are worth fighting for.

      Twelve-thirty. Half an hour early. Circle again with Kim one week later. Half a stone lighter. Looking like someone out of a concentration camp. Distraught. Corner table.

      Sarah—‘He’s got someone else.’

      Kim’s face screams I told you so. Her lips don’t move. I continue.

      ‘He came home the other night, drunk as usual, and suggested we sleep in separate rooms. Don’t mind about that one little bit. He’s become really farty—so at least the bedroom smelt okay in the morning. Anyway, he was more morose than usual. Kept asking me when I was moving out. Got so bad over the past week I actually agreed to it at one point. And that seemed to please him. He actually hugged me and looked into my eyes and said that we could still be friends. His friend. What happened to being his wife! I asked if he was okay, said I was his wife, not just his friend, and didn’t feel he was being particularly friendly to me at the moment. In fact, I told him I thought he was a prat. And that he was neglecting Ben as well. Who’s had chicken pox all this week. And he hasn’t come home until after midnight each night. Then he said because I had failed to move out, to give him space when he had asked so nicely, he thought the only way forward now was a divorce. A divorce.

      ‘I was stunned. I asked if he’d met someone. His exact words were—I can remember them so clearly—“There is someone else.” As though this someone else was in the room with us at that moment. Like a ghost. I froze. Then collapsed. Then screamed. Completely lost it. Couldn’t really take in what he said to me after that. Crying. Ran into the other bedroom to get away from him. Didn’t want to be in the same room as him. I’d wanted to talk to him for such a long time about so many things, but at that moment, Kim, I didn’t want to talk to him or see him or know him. He followed me. And tried to hug me. But now I think about it, it was more like restraining me.

      ‘I thought, Fuck you. I think I said fuck you, actually. Well, screamed fuck you. But that’s understandable in the situation. I asked him if he loved her. He laughed and said of course not. I asked where they’d met. He said in a bar. I wanted to know so much—but didn’t want to know anything, if you know what I mean. Because it made it worse.

      ‘Paul then said that he thought it best if we slept in the same bed that night after all. He said he was worried about me. I didn’t want to, Kim. I really didn’t want to. But I did sleep in the bed. I couldn’t sleep. He was so drunk he went straight to sleep. Farting and snoring. Thought about lighting a match and blowing him up in his own gas.

      ‘I couldn’t sleep. At about 1 a.m. I got up. Got in the car half-dressed and headed for Samantha’s house. Rang on her bell. She looked confused, but woke up fully when I told her what had happened. She looked shocked. Couldn’t believe it. Not Paul. Not lovely, cuddly, butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-his-mouth, devoted Paul. Told her devoted Paul had found a new model and wanted a divorce. She said it was probably the woman’s doing. That she’d probably given him an ultimatum.

      ‘I stayed for about an hour. Then drove back. I’d sobbed a lot. Hard. And it was good to be hugged by a friend. When I got back the prat was still fast asleep, and next morning he said he hadn’t realised I’d gone. I had to drop Ben off to nursery, and asked Paul if he could call in sick today at work. He said he was too upset to go in, but wanted to be by himself. He said he was confused. I remember sitting on the bottom stair with him by my side, telling me he was confused. Then watching him from the bedroom as he walked down the street towards the centre of town. Listening to his Sony Walkman.

      ‘He didn’t come home that night. He’d told me he was due to see her that night. That they always met on Friday nights. But I asked him not to meet her this Friday night as it would be different this time. I would know where he was, what he was doing. And that would be particularly cruel.’

      Kim—‘He stayed out, didn’t he?’

      Sarah—‘Yes. He stayed out. All night. And I was destroyed, Kim. And it’s been nearly a week now. And I can’t talk and I couldn’t talk. You’re the first person other than Samantha that I’ve told. Because I think, hopefully, it’s a blip. But this has been going on for nearly a week, and I’m being strong for Ben but I’m weeping inside.’

      Kim leans over and hugs me. I don’t know how long she hugs me. But Duncan usually welcomes us with the menus in the first five minutes, especially as he now knows the extent of Kim’s appetite, but I think the man has a sixth sense. Either that or he’s shocked by my size.

      Kim—‘So you haven’t told anyone else about this?’

      Sarah—‘Samantha has been there for me, but she’s just got engaged and I don’t want to burden