Wendy was close to laughing hysterically. ‘But you don’t love Frances. You were never in love with her. You told me that yourself.’
‘I was wrong. Frances and I were meant to be together. It was you and I that was a mistake.’
She leapt from the chair and flung herself at him. A mistake? Twelve years of a life shared, dismissed as a mistake? She managed to land one good blow and tear his shirt before he grabbed both her wrists.
‘Stop it,’ he said. When she writhed and attempted to lash out again, he tightened his grip. ‘Pack it in. You know I could hurt you far worse than you could hurt me. Don’t make me lose my temper.’ He pushed her back towards the chair and flopped her into it, relinquishing his hold but standing over her.
‘The children …’ she stammered.
‘The children will be living with me. They met Frances during their last visit and they both like her. Frances loves children. She’s never been able to have any of her own—’
‘So she thinks she can steal mine! Well, she shan’t have them. They’re my children. I’ll fight you through the courts for them. She won’t get away with kidnapping them.’
‘No one has been kidnapped. That’s exactly the sort of dramatic accusation which will convince any judge in the land that you are unbalanced. Katie and Jamie are my children and they will be far better off with me in every sense. Frances has already given in her notice so that she can be a stay-at-home mum and take care of them. Believe me, Wendy, you will make life far easier for everyone if you simply accept the situation and don’t start all the fuss of a custody case. For goodness’ sake, surely even you can see that the children are better off in a stable, two-parent household?’
‘She isn’t their parent.’
‘Your parent is the person who brings you up, gives you love and cares for you. Doesn’t that sound familiar? Isn’t that what you always said about Tara?’
‘That was different. Robert deserted us. This woman is stealing my children. And I helped her to do it.’ Her voice rose. ‘If I’d just moved down there with you right away, I’d have been there that first night when you met her. I’d have been there all along. When you wouldn’t sleep with me, it wasn’t because you were tired, was it? It was because you had her … and you didn’t want to be unfaithful to her. I even stayed back here at Easter and Whitsun, leaving you clear to set up meetings between her and my kids. You made them keep it secret, didn’t you? You made my children keep your dirty little secret. It’s this house! It’s been like a spell, but I see it all now. This bloody house is cursed. Everyone who comes here loses their children. It’s all happening, just like it did before.’
Bruce’s slap brought the tirade to an abrupt end. She reeled back in the chair, lifting an exploratory hand to her cheek. They stared at one another. When he finally spoke, it was the genuine concern in his voice that wounded her most of all.
‘Quite frankly, Wendy, I think you should seek some professional help. This house has become an obsession for you. It’s one of the reasons I would give if this ever comes to court and I need examples to illustrate why you are unfit to take proper care of the children.’
Love is exceedingly dangerous. Love makes people reckless. It makes them cruel. In my experience, love does not always turn out well.
I am alone now. It’s safer. The only safe way. Then again, don’t ever become a hater … that’s my advice. That never turns out well.
FOURTEEN
November 1981
Wendy declined to initiate divorce proceedings. She didn’t want to make it easy for Bruce to disentangle their finances or be free to marry Frances, and besides, she was giving him time in which to change his mind. This Frances thing was an infatuation, some kind of crazy mid-life crisis he was going through. She told him so when he brought the children up to stay with her in the October half term. The children were not themselves. They seemed almost tongue-tied in her presence, and it tore her heart to see the way they ran out to greet their father at the end of the visit, and in particular the way in which Katie entwined her arms with those of the hated Frances as soon as she got out of the car. Wendy ignored Frances, pretending that she was not there.
The children had been supposed to visit her again on the second weekend in November, but Bruce telephoned to inform her that they did not want to come up and he wasn’t going to force them. Wendy railed against him in vain, while he declined to put either of them on the line.
‘I’m not going to let you upset them again. When you get your licence back you can come and see them down here. Take them out for the day, that kind of thing, but they won’t be coming to stay again. Not unless they say they want to.’
She had seen nothing of Tara since her departure for university. It was hopeless trying to get hold of her via the payphone in the halls of residence, so Wendy had to make do with the occasional phone calls initiated by Tara herself. From what Wendy could gather she was seeing a lot of Robert and his family and remained in touch with John, the one-time bricklayer.
‘It would be lovely if you could make it up here for a weekend,’ Wendy found herself saying with monotonous regularity, to which Tara invariably responded by saying that she’d see what she could do.
‘I’ll come up and surprise you one of these days,’ she
