On weekends, I’d load the pickup with my stuff – select items of furniture or hi-fi, CDs that were indisputably mine, plus books and clothes and lots and lots of tools – which I would then drive up to Dad’s.
For most of these trips, Ben came with me, and I have great memories of the conversations we had during those long hours spent side by side in the car. Because once we’d exhausted Ben’s favourite subjects – namely school, video games and space exploration – we found ourselves talking about ourselves in more depth than ever before. Gradually the conversation shifted towards a discussion about everything that had happened, and more importantly, where we were going from here.
I was so impressed by how mature he was, and I found myself telling him the truth. He’d suddenly grown up and I hadn’t noticed, but now here he was, someone I could really talk to. Answering his questions, which were many, I explained how his mum had never been that happy being married to me, and that I was glad to see that she finally was. I admitted that I’d been hurt by the idea that she could choose Ant over me, but that I was starting to find it easier to accept. At one point, Ben asked me if I thought I’d ever get married again, and I told him honestly that I hoped I would. ‘Well, maybe not married,’ I said, ‘but I certainly hope I’ll find another girlfriend.’
‘So that you can have sex?’ he asked, making me burst out laughing.
‘Yeah, sex is nice,’ I admitted. ‘I sure hope that my sex life isn’t over. Forty-two is a bit early for that.’
‘Eww,’ Ben said, and I laughed some more. He was at the precise age where sex intrigued and embarrassed him in equal measure.
‘So, what do you think of Ant?’ I asked him. ‘And tell me the truth. It’s totally OK for you to like him, you know.’
‘He’s a dork,’ Ben said. ‘But he’s OK.’
‘How can he be a dork and be OK?’ I asked.
Ben shrugged. ‘He tries too hard,’ he explained. ‘He wants everyone to like him, but he doesn’t know how. He buys me loads of stuff, though, so I suppose he’s OK really.’
‘Right,’ I said. ‘I see.’
On the first weekend in February, I took the trip to Whitby alone. Heather was hosting a birthday party for Sarah, and because Amy and Ant were on a romantic weekender to Bath, she invited Ben to sleep over. As I was intending to spray-paint the walls of our future bedrooms, not having Ben along suited me fine.
On Sunday I got back later than intended, flecks of paint still lodged in my hair.
Ben was eating in Heather’s kitchen with the girls, and while I waited for him to finish, she and I chatted for the first time since Christmas. She’d heard, via Ben, about my imminent relocation, and she wanted to know all the details.
So, I told her about Dad’s house, and how they had run it as a bed and breakfast. I described the sea views and the gulls, and the storms lashing against the windows.
‘That sounds gorgeous,’ she said. ‘I love the coast. I always wanted to live by the sea.’
‘I didn’t know that,’ I said.
‘Well, it’s just so beautiful, isn’t it?’ Heather said. ‘I love the way that every time you look it changes. Even in bad weather, the sea looks amazing. And the light on the coast is so different, isn’t it? It always makes everything look brighter, more vibrant. I always thought my life would be more vibrant in a way, if I could just live overlooking the sea.’
‘It is pretty nice,’ I said, thinking about the way that every now and then Heather seemed to open up, seemed to allow herself to express her thoughts. And when she did, her eyes sparkled and her voice changed. It was like there was this whole different person hiding inside her that she rarely let out to play. I remember wondering if it was Ant’s fault that she had shut down, and what she would have been like if she’d never met him.
‘You’re so lucky to have grown up there,’ Heather said. ‘It must have been amazing.’
‘Yeah, it was pretty cool,’ I said. ‘You’ll have to come and visit.’ Addressing Ben, I added, ‘Won’t she, Ben?’
Heather blushed and laughed and said, ‘Oh, of course!’ in a peculiar mocking voice.
‘No, seriously, Heather,’ I insisted. ‘You should. Come in the school holidays, and the kids can go to the beach. It’s not like there’s a lack of space or anything.’
‘Well, that’s very kind of you,’ she said. ‘But I’m sure your dad doesn’t want us running around under his feet.’
‘That’s only because you don’t know him,’ I told her. ‘Dad’s very much a more’s the merrier kind of guy.’
‘Are you taking Riley with you?’ Lucy asked. ‘Or is she going to live with Dad and Amy?’
I gritted my teeth and turned to face Heather. ‘Ah,’ I said. ‘Riley . . .’
She looked at me quizzically.
‘So, Heather,’ I began, with a nervous cough. ‘I have a confession to make to you about Riley.’
‘It is Dandy!’ she said, wide-eyed. ‘I knew it!’
I nodded and grimaced as if my teeth hurt. ‘I’m so sorry. I was going to tell you the truth,’ I said. ‘That first time you recognised him, I wanted to say. But Amy came up with that stuff about us having him from a kitten, and I felt kind of stuck in the middle.’
‘God, I knew it!’ Heather said again. ‘You naughty, evil cat-thief, you!’
‘But he honestly came to us of his own accord. We had no idea he was anyone’s, I swear.’
‘Oh, I’m sure,’ Heather said. ‘You know what cats are like. No loyalty at all! At least he landed on his
