‘Well, you know, the past year has been pretty stressful for the both of you.’
‘Are you justifying it for him?’
‘No, but I kind of feel for the guy. He’s clutching at straws and I think he knows it. But something’s driving him to take this drastic step. Maybe he won’t be able to forgive himself if things go arse up and he didn’t try harder.’
I show Ryan the note.
I can’t imagine waking up without you by my side. Move in with me?
He reads it and lifts his eyebrows. ‘You need to work out what it is you want, Paige.’ And then he walks away, leaving the conversation there.
Ryan is staying at Caitlin’s tonight. I don’t know where he finds the energy, considering he’s just come in off a long-haul flight. He has the energy of a bouncy toddler. If he’s less than impressed at our choice of film, he doesn’t show it. We finish watching the movie, and as we stroll back to the car, he swerves towards the door of a pub.
‘Uh-uh,’ says Caitlin, shaking her head. She motions to her belly. ‘Me and pubs, we don’t go together.’
Ryan and I roll our eyes. ‘I might not see you again for another three years. You’re coming into the pub,’ he says. He leads us to a table in the corner, which is as far away from the live band that is playing as you could get.
Caitlin fumbles with her necklace while I rummage through my bag for some lip gloss.
Deciding I’ll be the one to break the silence, I ask her if she liked the movie.
‘Hated it.’
‘Oh, come on. You laughed the whole way through,’ comes Ryan’s voice.
‘I thought it was pretty great, actually,’ I say.
She rolls her eyes.
‘Hey, enough of that,’ says Ryan.
We both ignore him.
‘I’m serious. Enough. I didn’t come home to watch you two act like children. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying pretty hard here. I’m going to go get us some drinks. Do me a favour and sort it out.’ He flips around and makes his way to the bar.
‘He’s right,’ I say.
‘He doesn’t deserve to come home to this.’
‘Nope. Maybe we should try to get along for now – for him.’
Caitlin raises a brow. ‘So, truce?’
‘Truce.’
She nods, picks up her phone and starts texting someone. As she reads her messages, her expression hardens.
‘Let me guess. The kids are giving Mark trouble?’
She stares at the bar, a steely look on her face. ‘No, actually. The kids are apparently with my in-laws because Mark decided he needed a night off.’
‘Well, he’s been working pretty hard, what with work and the cottage in Castlemaine. Maybe he’s tired,’ I offer. Mark isn’t my husband, of course, but if he’s anything like Nick, it would take the earth to stop spinning before he admitted to me outright he was tired.
‘Of course he’s tired,’ she says.
‘So what’s the problem then?’
Caitlin looks at me as if I’ve asked her to come up with the winning lotto numbers. ‘Nothing,’ she says, pressing her lips together. ‘It’s not a problem.’
The way she spits it out makes it obvious that it’s an issue – at least to her.
‘How long until he finishes the renovations on the house?’ I press. It seems like he’s been working on them for far longer than they’d anticipated, and I can’t help wondering if this has something to do with Caitlin’s secrecy.
‘No, the country house is all finished now.’ She tosses her phone back into her bag and starts fiddling with the buttons on her cardigan. ‘It’s been finished for two and a half weeks.’
‘What’s wrong?’ I say, frowning. Over the past year or so, Caitlin has shared her Pinterest board and all of her 200 or so images with me. She dragged me round to interior design shows and furniture showrooms, and now that her beloved luxury house in the country for weekend getaways is ready, she sounds as if she couldn’t care less. Now that I think of it, Caitlin has seemed a little snappy around Mark.
Caitlin pretends to be looking for Ryan in the sea of people waiting around the bar.
I raise my voice, in case she hasn’t heard me over the music. ‘I know something’s wrong. What is it? Is it Mark? Because if it is, you can tell me. It’s not like I’m going to judge you if your husband’s being a bit of an ass.’
Caitlin doesn’t laugh. She sits there looking as if she’s going to burst into tears if I say another word.
‘Hey,’ I say, reaching for her shoulder, which I shake a little so she’ll look at me.
Ryan is approaching the table, holding three glasses. As he sets them down in front of us, Caitlin blurts out, ‘I think he might be having an affair.’
‘Who’s having an affair?’ says Ryan, pulling up a low stool. ‘I turn my back for a second and miss out on all the goss.’
I make a sign for him to stop. He questions me with a look.
No, I mouth.
‘Shit, is it Dad? Is Dad having an affair?’
‘What? No!’ I say, shaking my head at the absurdity of it.
‘Jesus, then don’t tell me it’s Mum,’ he says with a horrified look.
Caitlin’s head is in her hands at this point.
‘Oh my God, Ryan, be quiet, okay. Let her talk.’
‘He’s late home all the time. It doesn’t feel like we’re a family. It’s like we’re so focused on keeping everything ticking along and running smoothly that we’ve forgotten who we were, and we don’t know who we are any more. We don’t talk unless it’s about the kids, and it’s not the same as how it used to be with us.’
‘Right… but an affair?’
‘Are we talking about Mark, here?’ says Ryan, clearly confused and equally frustrated.
She lets out a deep sigh. ‘I saw a text message.’
‘Mmm… and…?’
‘From one of his colleagues, Natasha. No kids, go-getter, amazing legs, amazing boobs, amazing everything.’
‘Oh, come on! You’re beautiful, and pregnant, and… your hair’s not out of place, your skin is flawless, your legs are way less hairy than mine right now, and let me look at those hands…’ I take one in mine. ‘Where do you even find the time to get a manicure when you’re raising those gorgeous little people you have at home? Caitlin, you are beautiful. Isn’t she, Ryan?’
Ryan nods and produces a delayed, ‘Yes. Of course you are.’ He still seems disconcerted.
I continue. ‘You’re also loving, and committed, and smart, and you can bake a mean cake, and you run rings around Betty Baker any day of the week. And Mark loves you. I know he does.’
Caitlin’s lower lip turns downwards. ‘Then why don’t I feel it?’
I blink at her, trying to think. ‘Maybe you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed with your life. You have every detail under control. Could it be that maybe you’re exhausted? I mean, you are carrying a little person inside of you.’
Tears start streaming down her cheeks. I grab my bag and haul it towards Ryan. ‘Tissues,’ I order.