‘You needed to sign the bloody affidavit and leave me in peace, that’s what you needed to do,’ I say. ‘Or we could take a step back and say that you needed to keep your cock in your pants and not get Julia pregnant, but you know what? I think it’s actually all for the best.’
‘You see,’ says Daniel. ‘I knew you’d understand that everything has turned out for the best.’
Even Mackenzie starts to laugh at this. ‘That is not what she said, Daddy,’ she says, laughing. ‘You are so dumb at understanding people. She said you should have looked after your rooster better. I never even knew you had a rooster.’
Mackenzie’s comment reminds me that she is there, and that I am shouting about her father’s cock in front of her and about a hundred strangers.
‘Kenz,’ I say. ‘Why don’t you go join the other kids in the pool, while Mummy and Daddy talk?’ I indicate a group of children who are gathered around a staff member, ready to start the day’s activities. She’s about to object, but I give her my fiercest look, and she sighs, and goes to join the other kids.
‘I suppose you should sit down,’ I start to say, but Daniel has already pulled out a chair and ordered a cappuccino from the waiter.
‘Isn’t Mauritius lovely at this time of year?’ he says, with a happy sigh.
‘I don’t understand why you’re here, Daniel,’ I say. ‘I didn’t invite you.’
‘But you wanted me to come,’ he says, as if I’m not going to be able to argue with him. His coffee is put down in front of him, and he thanks the waiter as if the waiter has delivered a diamond. They have a little chat about the weather, while I watch Mackenzie in the pool, and gather my thoughts.
‘Daniel,’ I say, when his attention is back on me, ‘I’m sorry if you were under the impression that you were invited on this holiday. But you weren’t. I’d like you to leave.’
‘But we belong together,’ says Daniel. ‘I see that now.’
‘Oh really?’ I say. ‘How did Julia take that?’
He is silent.
‘Daniel?’
‘I’m not really sure,’ he says.
I take a deep breath.
‘What did you say to her when you left?’
Silence.
‘Daniel?’
‘I sent a text,’ he says defensively. ‘And I was really nice to her yesterday.’
‘What did the text say?’ I ask. I’m trying to keep calm.
‘That I’m just doing what I need to do,’ says Daniel. He has the grace to mumble.
‘She has no idea where you are?’ I say, my voice rising again. ‘Your pregnant girlfriend has no effing clue that you are here? Are you insane?’
‘I don’t understand why you are angry all the time, Claire,’ says Daniel, as if he is being reasonable. ‘It’s very toxic.’
Any doubts that I have are gone.
‘Daniel,’ I say, slowly. ‘Our marriage is over. My suggestion to you is that you go home and try to salvage something with Julia, because I am done.’
‘But we have Mackenzie,’ he says, gesturing at the pool. ‘She needs us to be together.’
‘And Julia’s baby?’ I say. ‘You’ve fucked up, Daniel. And now you need to act like an adult for once in your life. Just for once.’
‘Claire, I . . .’
I hold up my hand. ‘We are done, Daniel,’ I say. ‘Go. Just go.’
He stands up, and so do I.
‘My lawyer will call you when I get back,’ I say.
‘Claire . . .’
‘No. Enough. Just don’t speak. We are over.’
Daniel looks around, as if maybe he’s on a prank TV show and he wants to find the cameras. Look, he seems to be saying to the curious spectators, look how unreasonable she is.
He sighs, and turns to go. ‘We’ll speak later,’ he says, and I know he hasn’t heard a thing I’ve said.
He’s about a metre away when he passes a table with a lone woman in a bikini. She has very big boobs, and the bikini is very small. Daniel gives her a quick, appreciative glance, and she catches his eye. I see him wink.
Months of my suffering come together in that wink. Before I can second guess myself, I pick up the sugar bowl and throw it at his head. There is a satisfying crack as it connects. I always was rather good at ball sports.
‘Mackenzie,’ I call. ‘It’s time to go to the beach.’
PART 3
SEPTEMBER
MONDAY
Helen
Today is Julia’s last day of work before her maternity leave. I suggested to her that it was a bit strange they were making her go in just for a Monday, but she said it is impossible to explain anything involving flexibility to her boss, and it was just easier to end on the date they had agreed. I hear Julia’s alarm go off and wait for the sounds of her getting up. I wait five minutes, but there is no noise from her room. Or the spare room, depending on how you look at it.
Eventually I pull myself out of bed, and go down the passage to check.
She’s fast asleep, on her back, her mouth slightly open. Her full-term pregnant stomach is enormous beneath the blankets, and her legs look incongruous where they peep out from the tangle.
When Julia was a baby, before The Accident, I used to watch her and Jack sleep all the time. After The Accident, I stopped. The only child I wanted to watch sleep – to watch gently breathe – was Jack. And he was dead and would never breathe again. And then he was forgotten, by everyone except me.
But now I watch Julia sleep, the giant mound of her unborn son rising and falling beneath the blankets, and I am again struck by her vulnerability.
‘Wake up, sweetie,’ I say, but I know I’m speaking too softly and she won’t hear me. I am tempted to climb into the bed and cuddle her – which I
