Wrong Song
By
Carol Vardy

 

 

Paula sat twirling her hair round and round her finger, a habit from her childhood. When upset, she reverted back to it; even at the age of thirty-five, she needed the comfort it brought. Peter, her husband, had lately been spending his spare time in the loft. When she asked what he was doing, he answered too quickly: nothing really, just tinkering. That was the wrong answer, it had whetted her appetite, should she, shouldn’t she? Yes she’d have a look, why not?

Now she wished she’d been strong and resisted, but it was too late. What was she going to do? When she’d asked him for extra money to buy a dress; he’d said he wasn’t very flush at the moment. Now she knew why, at the side of the computer was a half written letter; he was arranging to meet a ‘Dear Laura’ at the, ‘Marquis of Granby’ at 7.00pm on Monday. This hotel held special memories for Paula, but obviously not for Peter. It explained those strange phone calls, why he said his good-byes in a hurry, all those wrong numbers; she’d read about such excuses, and knew what they meant.

The slamming of the front door interrupted her thoughts. She glanced at the clock and realised an hour had passed since she’d found out about Peter’s deception. Into the kitchen walked Gemma, her eldest, fifteen next week. Paula needed to talk to someone, but not her daughter. Gemma would be too upset and shocked.

‘Hi Mum, okay? You look different, you’ve had your hair re-styled.’

‘Mm, do you like it?’ Paula couldn’t whip up any enthusiasm, her mind was still in the loft. She extended her arms to embrace Gemma, she could always rely on her for a complement. No temper tantrums, unlike her younger sister, Aby.

‘I’m off to do my homework,’ She returned the hug and gave her mum a kiss.

Bang!, slam!, the clatter of things being dropped, mutterings, it meant only one thing, Aby was home. Paula braced herself, the kitchen door burst open, one look at Aby’s face was all she needed.

‘You should have bought it when I asked, now Jen Boden’s got it. You know I really wanted that skirt. It’s all your fault.’ With that she spun round, banging the door, which shook the contents of the kitchen.

‘Hello to you too,’ said Paula aloud. For a minute she’d actually forgotten all about the attic.

Later taking the ironing upstairs she could hear Gemma and Aby arguing.

‘We’ve got to tell her, it’s only fair she knows. Think of the shock,’ whispered Gemma.

‘Stop being a drama queen, she’ll be okay,’ muttered Aby

‘Tell me what?’ Paula asked, bursting into the room. and looked from one to the other. Gemma blushed and fidgeted.

‘Nothing, she was complaining about that skirt she wanted,’ Gemma answered hurriedly.

. . .

Paula watched Peter drive away then jumped into her battered old mini. She parked the car a discreet distance from the hotel and was just in time to see a young, slim, blonde, smartly dressed woman, who greeted Peter with a kiss. Paula felt sick, he hadn’t kissed her that morning. She waited a short while then followed them into the bar. They sat with their heads close together, they appeared to be studying a book, probably arranging a dirty weekend together.

. . .

‘Mum, you all right?’ asked Gemma.

‘No, not really.’

‘Dad’s got something to tell you, I hope you won’t be upset, he told us last month.’

‘Last month! You’ve known that long and not told me? Oh Gemma.’ Paula grabbed a tissue, she felt bereft.

Gemma put her arms around her Mum. ‘It can’t be that bad. I told him to tell you, I said that it might come as a shock, even be embarrassing for you.’

‘Embarrassing, embarrassing, Gemma it’s disastrous.’ Paula twirled her hair vigorously, strands of it came out intertwined in her fingers.

Gemma was really worried, she’d never seen her Mum get so upset. ‘But you’ll enjoy it. Come on, let’s go and try your dress on.’

‘What are you talking about?’ sobbed Paula.’

‘Your fifteenth wedding anniversary, it’s next week. Don’t tell me you’d forgotten?’

. . .

‘Oh Peter, the flowers in the church and hotel they looked just as beautiful as fifteen years ago. You’ve remembered everything even our favourite tune,’ Paula sang softly. ‘My love, two hearts that beat as one’ She looked into Peter’s eyes, how could she have doubted him? All the time he’d been planning for them to renew their wedding vows.‘Sorry, you went to all that trouble having my wedding dress cleaned, but I’m not as slim as I was.’

‘You looked gorgeous in the new dress, the girls chose well. How did you manage to get Aby in a dress?’

‘Bribery, simple bribery.’ Later that day she revealed to Peter how she nearly sang a different song. ‘One step closer to knowing.’ Totally unsuitable, don’t you think?’

Copyright© Carol Vardy 2006

 

 

 

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