Our House(75)

A tremor started around his mouth. The noise in his throat was not quite human as he reached, yet again, for his excuses. ‘I know, you’re right, but I didn’t want to jeopardize my chance to stay with the kids. Please, Fi, I’m sorry, I really am. I know I’ve screwed up and you’re probably thinking the bird’s nest isn’t working out—’

‘How can I think anything else when one of us is a liar!’

‘But it’s good for Leo and Harry, isn’t it? You’ve got to admit that. They’re far happier than they would have been if we’d split up.’

We both froze, each as startled as the other.

‘We have split up,’ I said, at last.

He shook his head. ‘I know. A Freudian slip.’

‘Is this why the insurance company didn’t pay out?’ I demanded. ‘Because you didn’t tell them about the ban?’

‘I did tell them, of course I did.’

‘So, as usual, it’s just me you’ve cheated.’

To my horror, his face began to collapse in that awful spasming way it had once before and this time he began sobbing, repeating over and over how sorry he was.

‘Please, Fi, give me one more chance. At least until the end of the trial period we agreed back in the summer? Please.’

I waited for his tears to subside, forbidding myself to see Leo in him, but it was too late. He was the boys’ father; they were in his face, his voice, his frailties. I couldn’t banish him without banishing them.

‘One last chance, Bram. I just . . . I can’t have you making a fool of me.’ Again. Again and again.

‘I promise,’ he said.

Which we now know was not worth the soundwaves the words travelled on.


Bram, Word document

I honestly think if Fi had pushed a bit harder I would have broken. If she had demanded to know why I’d reacted to her new man the way I did, I might have split open and let the secrets ooze from me, foul and unpalatable as they were.

But where once she’d been fixated on the adultery and missed the driving, now she was fixated on the driving and missed the fraud. A letter had come from the DVLA laying bare the details of my ban and there was the predictable confrontation. I can picture her face now, its saintly horror as she told me off: If you’d been involved in an accident these last few months you’d have got in serious trouble . . .

I think I know that!

‘Why?’ I asked Mike, when I’d calmed sufficiently to phone him. ‘Why are you seeing her? Is it just to show me you can?’

‘Bram,’ he said, making a sigh of my name. ‘You seem to think I have limitless time in which to amuse myself. There’s a deadline here, remember? The police might be a bit slow, but they’re not complete fuckwits. They’ll get around to you eventually.’

‘They already have,’ I admitted. ‘A guy came to question me on Tuesday.’

‘Really? He asked you about the crash?’

‘No, not directly. Just who saw the car last, the same ground they covered with Fi weeks ago, so I’m thinking they must have something new to need to look me up.’

‘Did he ask where you were on the sixteenth of September?’

‘Yes. I had to use the alibi. I said I was in the pub at Clapham Junction, like we agreed.’

‘Good. That’ll work out fine, don’t worry about it. Even if they check the cameras, it’s mental there on a Friday, easy to get lost in the crowd. You need to hold your nerve, Bram. As for your missus, rest assured I have no intention of getting down on one knee. But someone has to get her out of the way when the time comes, don’t they? It’s not going to be you taking her on a romantic getaway.’

They were definitely sleeping together then (like it was ever in doubt. Sex was important to Fi).

‘I know it’s a blow to your male ego, but it’s nothing personal, so don’t go plunging into a gloom about it, all right? You need to stop drawing attention to yourself with these petulant outbursts.’

Petulant? As if I were an infant frustrated by the word ‘no’.

‘Just keep away from my kids,’ I said. ‘Promise me that.’

‘Pinky promise,’ he mocked. ‘Can we get down to business now, please? There must have been some offers after those second viewings? I thought they’d be biting your arm off at this price.’

I exhaled, a sound humiliatingly close to a whimper.

‘Don’t even think about holding out on me, Bram. One word from me and Mrs Lawson will call the agent herself.’

‘She’s not Mrs Lawson.’

‘Just give me the fucking update, will you?’

I swear, it was like he pulled a string from my back and when he let go the words came out. ‘There’ve been two offers. The highest is from a couple who are still waiting to sell their current house. The lower one is from a couple who’ve already sold their place, so there’s no chain, they’re ready to go.’

I’d met them at the open day, Rav said, though I couldn’t place their faces among the genteel collection of identikit couples. David and Lucy Vaughan, upgrading from an East Dulwich townhouse and recipients of a windfall following a wealthy grandparent’s death. Younger than Fi and me and ready to start a family.

‘How much?’ Mike demanded.