The Family Next Door(59)

“I’m sorry,” Fran whispered. “It’s just … you’ve had a few days to think about things. What do you want?”

He didn’t say anything for a while. Rosie kept making that frog noise, that irritating but accurate frog noise.

“I want to believe we’ll find our way through this, Fran.”

Her body went limp in relief. “Oh. Nigel. Thank goodness, so do—”

“—I want to believe it,” he repeated over the top of her, “but I’m not sure I do.”





43


ANGE


This is what it will be like, Ange thought as she watched the boys play Xbox. This is what single parenthood will be like. It was early afternoon and the boys were just home from school. She’d made them a snack—nachos, which they’d demolished like a pair of wild dogs, leaving scatterings of cheese and corn chips all over the coffee table—and then she’d sat on the arm of Ollie’s chair begging for snippets about their day. The other arm of Ollie’s chair was empty. Because Lucas was gone.

Ange didn’t know if he’d left forever, or just for a few days. He’d taken only an overnight bag, so presumably he’d be back sometime. The shameful truth was that she was desperate to call him up and ask when that would be. She could pretend it was for the kids’ sake, even though they’d barely batted an eyelid when she told them he’d gone away for work. But she had just enough pride to stop herself, instead choosing to suffer in silence, hanging on to the few shreds of dignity she had left.

The most shameful thing was that she hadn’t even asked him to leave. She hadn’t had to.

“I should probably leave,” he’d said the night before.

“Moving in with Erin?” she’d said offhandedly, as if talking about it casually made the idea less unspeakably awful.

“No.” He’d frowned. “No. Erin and I aren’t together anymore. We haven’t been for a long time.”

That had been a surprise. Ange had thought Erin was Josie no. 2—that it was true love. Fleetingly she wondered what would have happened had she not stepped in with her bogus pregnancy and allowed Lucas to have his moment in the sun with Josie all those years ago. Maybe he would have come back after realizing his mistake, and been a different man from then on.

Maybe not.

“We stay in touch for Charlie’s sake,” he said. “But that’s it.”

“How did this happen, Lucas?” She’d leaned forward as if she really wanted to know. In fact, what she wanted to do was turn back the clocks to when this whole thing had been merely a suspicion. The whole conversation felt so odd it was as though she was watching it on TV, rather than taking part in it.

“Remember a few years back—Ollie’s first year of school?”

Of course she remembered. Ollie’s first year of school had been a great year. With the boys both at school, she’d finally gotten her life back. She’d decided to branch out on her own, starting her own real estate office. She’d expected it to take years to turn a profit, but by the end of that first year, she’d been making good money. Ollie, of course, had adjusted to school life instantly and Will was settled in the second grade. Lucas worked flexible hours and spent more time with the boys. Surely that couldn’t have been the year that Lucas strayed? The year she’d been so happy?

“You were working so hard and I’d taken over the lion’s share of the parenting, doing school drop-offs and pickups. It was a real transition time…”

Ange’s spine straightened. Was that a trace of martyrdom in his voice? It was true, he had taken over as lead parent that year and it had been a relief for Ange. Unlike her, Lucas relished those mind-numbing aspects of parenthood—the idle conversations with other parents, the school notices, the Book-Week costumes. But she had taken over most of the financial responsibilities! With her new business, she was earning enough that he could work flexible hours doing his photography and be available to the boys. It catered to both of their strengths. She remembered Lucas saying so at the time.

Now it was a real transition time?

“You worked late a lot—”

“No, I didn’t,” she snapped. “I was always home by seven P.M. Eight P.M. at the latest. And Saturday mornings. No more than you’d expect any dad to work!” Strangely, making this a gender issue was easier than making it about her failings as a wife. She understood gender issues—as a businesswoman, she dealt with them every day. She made it her business to mentor younger women in the office on claiming their place at the boardroom table. As she squared off against Lucas, she almost heard Beyoncé singing in the background. “I worked hard to support my family. To allow you to work part-time doing what you loved and staying home with our children. It was the arrangement you wanted! If I were a man, I’d be applauded. Because I’m a woman, I’m a neglectful wife and mother!”

“I never said that. And I never would.” Lucas’s eyes fell away from hers. “It’s just that … I found myself alone a lot.”

And that’s when Ange realized. It didn’t matter that she was justified working the hours she did, that she was doing her best for her family. It didn’t matter if she was right and he was wrong. Nothing they talked about or fought over made the blindest bit of difference. Charlie existed. The damage had been done.