wasn’t about to let the previous topic go so quickly: moving rooms had just given her time to change tack. ‘Don’t bite my head off, but I’ve been thinking. Maybe you two should go to counselling,’ she said, perching on the edge of her seat, knees tight together in her camel skirt. ‘I just wonder if you’re not being a bit . . . hasty?’
‘Hasty?’ Gina repeated, then felt annoyed, as an answering doubt rose up in her. Was she?
Gina’s reactions to Stuart’s affair still surprised her. Pain, shame, regret, relief – it was like pulling a fruit machine handle, a different combination came up every time. Guilt was a regular middle-of-the-night visitor. Maybe she should have tried harder, been more grateful for a safe man who didn’t drink, gamble or complain about nursing her through some unbelievably violent bouts of vomiting.
‘Yes, hasty in throwing away a perfectly good marriage,’ said Janet, encouraged by her silence. ‘Stuart’s been through a lot too, dealing with your illness. Maybe you need to get things out in the open.’
‘I suggested counselling ages ago. Stuart didn’t want to discuss our private life in front of a stranger, he said. And, anyway, he’s living with his new girlfriend now, Mum. I’d say that’s pretty final.’ Anger tightened inside Gina’s chest as she spoke the words. ‘He’s been seeing her for months ,’ she went on masochistically. ‘They went to Dublin for her birthday when he’d told me he was on a weekend football tournament! Are you seriously saying I should ignore the fact that he’d been cheating on me for most of last year? I wasn’t ill then.’
‘Of course I’m disappointed in him.’ Janet frowned, but only as if, Gina thought, Stuart had reversed into Gina’s car, not left her for someone else. ‘But life throws these things at you. It’s not a fairy tale, marriage. You have to work through bad times. The trouble is you’ve always had unreasonably high expectations, ever since . . . Well, it’s just a shame you didn’t meet Stuart when you were at school.’ She pressed her lips together meaningfully.
There was a pause, during which Gina realised her mother was somehow managing to blame Kit for her divorce. ‘Are you talking about Kit?’ she asked, more to make her say it than anything else.
‘Well,’ said Janet, ‘things might have turned out very differently if you’d met Stuart first, that’s all.’
Gina sat back in her chair, lost for words. Well, lost for appropriate words. It would have been a lie to say she never thought about Kit – vague shapes flickered across her consciousness at least once a day, more a shadow than an active memory – but unpacking her old house seemed to have shaken him out of the past, like a bird from a tree. Twice in two days, an actual figure, not a faint tang of regret.
Janet was watching her, and Gina thought she looked delighted at having found not only someone else to blame for Stuart and Gina’s divorce, but also at being able to pin it on Kit, the cause of everything bad that had ever happened to her daughter.
‘Mum,’ said Gina, heavily, ‘how on earth can Kit have had anything to do with my marriage ending?’
‘Hasn’t he?’
‘No!’ Gina didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t make her look guilty. ‘This is entirely the fault of me and Stuart. No, actually, it’s not anyone ’s fault. We should never have got married in the first place.’
‘Oh, Georgina! How can you say that?’
‘Because it’s true.’
‘I suppose it’s my fault that—’ Janet started, but Gina stopped her.
‘No, Mum,’ said Gina, shortly. ‘It’s no one’s fault. Sometimes things just don’t work out.’
They sat in stubborn silence until Gina got up to get the bag she’d left by the door. ‘I don’t want to fall out,’ she said, in a more conciliatory tone. ‘I’ve brought some things of yours that I found while I was going through my boxes. Look, here’s your
‘Hasty?’ Gina repeated, then felt annoyed, as an answering doubt rose up in her. Was she?
Gina’s reactions to Stuart’s affair still surprised her. Pain, shame, regret, relief – it was like pulling a fruit machine handle, a different combination came up every time. Guilt was a regular middle-of-the-night visitor. Maybe she should have tried harder, been more grateful for a safe man who didn’t drink, gamble or complain about nursing her through some unbelievably violent bouts of vomiting.
‘Yes, hasty in throwing away a perfectly good marriage,’ said Janet, encouraged by her silence. ‘Stuart’s been through a lot too, dealing with your illness. Maybe you need to get things out in the open.’
‘I suggested counselling ages ago. Stuart didn’t want to discuss our private life in front of a stranger, he said. And, anyway, he’s living with his new girlfriend now, Mum. I’d say that’s pretty final.’ Anger tightened inside Gina’s chest as she spoke the words. ‘He’s been seeing her for months ,’ she went on masochistically. ‘They went to Dublin for her birthday when he’d told me he was on a weekend football tournament! Are you seriously saying I should ignore the fact that he’d been cheating on me for most of last year? I wasn’t ill then.’
‘Of course I’m disappointed in him.’ Janet frowned, but only as if, Gina thought, Stuart had reversed into Gina’s car, not left her for someone else. ‘But life throws these things at you. It’s not a fairy tale, marriage. You have to work through bad times. The trouble is you’ve always had unreasonably high expectations, ever since . . . Well, it’s just a shame you didn’t meet Stuart when you were at school.’ She pressed her lips together meaningfully.
There was a pause, during which Gina realised her mother was somehow managing to blame Kit for her divorce. ‘Are you talking about Kit?’ she asked, more to make her say it than anything else.
‘Well,’ said Janet, ‘things might have turned out very differently if you’d met Stuart first, that’s all.’
Gina sat back in her chair, lost for words. Well, lost for appropriate words. It would have been a lie to say she never thought about Kit – vague shapes flickered across her consciousness at least once a day, more a shadow than an active memory – but unpacking her old house seemed to have shaken him out of the past, like a bird from a tree. Twice in two days, an actual figure, not a faint tang of regret.
Janet was watching her, and Gina thought she looked delighted at having found not only someone else to blame for Stuart and Gina’s divorce, but also at being able to pin it on Kit, the cause of everything bad that had ever happened to her daughter.
‘Mum,’ said Gina, heavily, ‘how on earth can Kit have had anything to do with my marriage ending?’
‘Hasn’t he?’
‘No!’ Gina didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t make her look guilty. ‘This is entirely the fault of me and Stuart. No, actually, it’s not anyone ’s fault. We should never have got married in the first place.’
‘Oh, Georgina! How can you say that?’
‘Because it’s true.’
‘I suppose it’s my fault that—’ Janet started, but Gina stopped her.
‘No, Mum,’ said Gina, shortly. ‘It’s no one’s fault. Sometimes things just don’t work out.’
They sat in stubborn silence until Gina got up to get the bag she’d left by the door. ‘I don’t want to fall out,’ she said, in a more conciliatory tone. ‘I’ve brought some things of yours that I found while I was going through my boxes. Look, here’s your
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