My Not So Perfect Life(69)

Hal just carries on with his lunch, while Coco shreds a bread roll into pieces. Demeter is silent and subdued. And all I can feel, right now, is really sorry for her.

—



After we’ve served coffee, the two children disappear out of the barn. I should really go and help Biddy with the afternoon’s baking activity. But I can’t leave. I’m too fascinated by the horror show that is Demeter and her family. I station myself within earshot of them by the old oak dresser, folding and refolding napkins. Not that Demeter and James even notice me. They’re engrossed in their own little bubble.

“So your mother calls me Mrs. Invisible.” Demeter lifts her coffee cup to her lips, then puts it down again, untouched. “Nice.”

James winces. “Look…I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have heard that. I’ve told Mum she’s out of line.”

“But what does she mean?” Demeter sounds brittle.

“Oh, come on.” James drops his hands onto the table with a thump. “You’re out every night. If you’re not working late, you’re at some awards ceremony—”

“It’s my job!” says Demeter, sounding anguished. “You know I have to do this stuff, James—”

“Demeter, they want me in Brussels.” James cuts straight across her and she draws in breath sharply. The color drains from her face. There’s such a long, breath-holding silence between the pair of them that I think I might keel over.

At last, Demeter says, “Right.” She swallows hard, and there’s another endless pause. “Right,” she repeats. “Wow. Didn’t see that one coming.”



“I know. Sorry. I’ve been…” He sweeps a hand through his hair. “I’ve been preoccupied. That’s why.”

I’ve frozen beside the dresser. This is clearly a very personal conversation. I should make myself known. But I can’t. I can’t break the spell. My fingers are clenched around a napkin so hard that they’ve gone white. Demeter takes breath to speak, and I can sense she’s feeling her way.

“I thought we discussed the Brussels thing, James. I thought we decided—”

“I know what we decided. I know what we agreed. I know what I said….” James rubs his eyes with the flat of his hand. Demeter’s head is turned away, her chin lowered. The pair look a picture of abject misery.

I can’t help flashing back to that photo of them on Demeter’s pinboard that I always used to gaze at. The pair of them standing on the red carpet in black tie, looking like the most successful, glamorous, put-together couple in the world. But look at them now. Tired; wretched; not even making eye contact.

“But?” says Demeter, finally.

“I lied, OK?” James bursts out. “I told you I didn’t want Brussels because I thought it was what you wanted. But I do want it, and they really want me, and I’m tired of compromising. This opportunity is huge. There won’t be another like it.”

“Right.” I can see Demeter’s eyes flicking back and forth nervously. “I see. Yes. Right. So…we move to Brussels?”

“No! You have your job…the children’s schools….” He spreads his hands. “They’ve talked about a three-year fixed contract. After that, who knows? I hope I can find another great opportunity in London. But for now…” James leans forward and waits till she lifts her gaze to meet his. “I want this. You wanted Cooper Clemmow…I want this.”



“Well, then.” Her fingers are meshing on the table. “You have to take it. We’ll make it work.”

“Oh God— You’re always so bloody generous.” He screws up his face, a fist to his forehead. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a bastard.”

“No, no,” says Demeter at once. “You haven’t. You’ve been unhappy. I get that now.”

“And a bastard.”

“A bit of a bastard.” Demeter gives a reluctant little smile and he smiles back, with those handsome crow’s feet.

For a while there’s silence. They’re both just looking at each other. I sense they’re mentally straightening things out a bit. And now maybe I can see why they might have married each other. But bloody hell. What a roller coaster.

“You supported me,” says Demeter, spinning her coffee cup slowly on her saucer. “When I moved to Cooper Clemmow. You supported me and you turned down Brussels. And you’ve been miserable ever since. I can see that now.”

“I think…” James exhales sharply. “I should have been more honest. I thought I could just not-want it. If I tried hard enough.”

“You can’t make yourself not-want things.” Demeter gives him a wry smile. “Idiot.”

“But this job is big.”

“All right, then.” She exhales gustily. “We can do big. We’ll survive. So what happens next?”



“They want to talk to me.” He pauses. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Demeter looks at him in horror. “But we’re on holiday! When were you going to—”

“I’ll nip up to Gatwick this afternoon. I’ll be there and back in…what? Seventy-two hours.”

“Seventy-two hours? Why so long?”