‘Please don’t be,’ she argues. ‘I should have known then, when I still had the chance to get out, but it all happened so fast. I quit Uni, we got married and moved into his mum’s house, and my life completely changed. You were all gone, and that became my world.’
I could understand how that could happen. Hadn’t I gone from zero to fully loved up in record time with several relationships?
Sarah was still pouring her heart out. ‘At first, he was great, Carly, so loving and caring.’
‘So what happened?’ I ask, my stomach knotting in dread.
‘I don’t know. He gradually became more and more moody and controlling, snapping at me constantly, criticising everything I did. No matter what I did to please him, nothing was good enough. He worked in a warehouse, and he didn’t want me to work, so we couldn’t afford our own place. We ended up staying with the in-laws for another four years.’
A big tear rolls down her cheek and lands in her coffee.
‘Then he lost the plot altogether. He’d always been possessive,’ she grimaces ruefully. ‘At the start I quite liked it, because I was stupid enough to think it showed how much he cared. But his possessiveness became a complete obsession. He complained if I spoke to anyone or if I left the house on my own. He said that if I loved him then I didn’t need anyone else. In the end, it was easier just to go along with it.’
‘I’m so sorry, Sarah,’ I say again. ‘We should have done something to help.’
Where were we when Sarah needed us? Completely wrapped up in our own insignificant little dramas.
She shakes her head. ‘It would only have made things worse. My family tried, but eventually I asked them to leave us alone too. Anything for a peaceful life. I just didn’t want the children to see constant fighting, so I’d do anything to keep the peace.’
My blood is boiling. What a bastard!
Sarah bites her lip, then takes a breath, as if summoning her strength to carry on. ‘Over the years, his temper got really out of control. He flew into a rage if I was ever late or if he saw me speaking to another guy, no matter how innocent it was. Looking back now, I can’t believe I put up with it, Carly. I can see how it looks. I was pathetic.’
‘Other people’s shoes, Sarah. Who knows what any of us would have done in the same situation?’ I answer, quoting a phrase my gran used to berate me with if she ever caught me being judgemental. I have to ask the obvious, though. ‘Why didn’t you leave?’ I’m holding on to her hand so tightly that it’s turning blue.
‘How could I? I had two babies, no money, no home, no job. I was trapped but I couldn’t see a way out.’
‘I so wish you’d told us. We could have helped. We would have done anything.’
She shrugs her shoulders. ‘I guess I didn’t want to admit it to anyone. I didn’t want the world to know that I had made a complete fuck-up of my life.’
The tea ladies run to the aisles for a box of Kleenex for the two blubbering wrecks in the corner. Two more coffees, six tissues and a medicinal Bakewell tart later, she is still recounting what happened and it doesn’t get any better.
When they had finally managed to afford their own flat, Bill’s behaviour had become even worse. He had a lock put on the phone so that she couldn’t dial out and he called her ten times a day to check where she was. He was cold, abusive and violent.
It had all come to a head a year before when her grandmother had died. Bill had erupted when she said that she was going to the funeral and for once Sarah had fought back. It was the first time she’d seen her family in years, and she finally told them everything that had been going on. Horrified, they pooled their resources to help. Sarah and the kids were given her grandmother’s house and the whole family chipped in to redecorate it and furnish it. Bill threatened all sorts, but that stopped abruptly after a visit from Sarah’s two brothers. A mischievous grin crosses her face when it comes to that bit. I can tell she relishes the thought. As she tells it, she visibly straightens up and pushes back her shoulders, like a woman in control. Like she’s determined to put it all in the past.
‘So what now?’ I ask.
She beams as she tells me that she’s going back to teacher training college in September.
‘And Bill?’
‘I only see him when he collects the kids on a Friday and returns them on a Sunday. I hear he’s living with someone else now, poor woman.’
I notice a clock on the wall and realise we’ve been sitting there for hours.
‘Sarah, where are the kids now?’ I ask in a panic, suddenly conscious that it’s after four o’clock.
‘It’s Easter holidays. Bill took them to Butlin’s last night for two weeks. That’s why I was looking a bit miserable when I met you – I don’t know what to do with myself now they’re gone.’
We sit in comfortable silence for a few moments as I absorb what she’s told me. An idea starts to form. It’s the perfect solution! I scream with delight, making Sarah jump and splash her coffee over the remnants of her Bakewell tart.
‘I know what you can do. You’re coming to St Andrews with me.’
It makes perfect sense in Cooperland…
‘What? Carly, I can’t afford to do that. I’m a skint student again.’
‘But I’ll pay for both of us. Or, rather, American Express will.’
I fill her in on the plan and for the first time she cries with laughter instead of
