He was blocking her exit.
He came towards her and put his hand on her shoulder, trying to pull her in.
She flinched at his touch.
‘No, Noah. I don’t want you to do that.’
He pulled her in closer, trying to kiss her, the stale smell of alcohol on his breath, ignoring her attempt to wriggle free. She knew what he was hoping, that she’d relent and they’d end this argument the way they always did, but there was no way that was happening. Not this time.
‘Getoffme!’ she shouted through gritted teeth. ‘I mean it.’
He let go. ‘Fine,’ he said as she pushed past him and out the door, walking down the corridor and slamming their bedroom door shut behind her. She went into the bathroom and locked the door, realising her hands were trembling as she fumbled with the catch. She took several deep breaths to calm her nerves.
As she stood in the shower letting the warm water wash over her, she considered her options. She could leave him. But where would she go? And what would she do? Her whole life was here, with him, with Raffy. Even as the thought entered her mind she knew she couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to. She loved Noah too much. And she truly believed that he loved her. And then there was Raffy. No, that couldn’t be the answer.
Besides, maybe he had a point. She had deliberately ignored him when he had asked her not to get involved with Margery. Was there part of her that wanted to challenge him, she wondered. Did she want to push him and see how far he would go?
She rubbed her eyes and sighed. She had no choice but to get through to him. She would go back downstairs and talk to him again. She would insist that he go and see a therapist about his childhood and his grief. It had to be connected. If he could let out all those suppressed emotions and work through it all in a safe space, with a professional, then surely he would be able to manage his anger better. At the moment he was like a volcano, ready to erupt when the pressure inside got too much. That had to be the solution. Surely, he would agree to it. She wouldn’t ask him to go to couples therapy. She knew he would never agree to that. But this was just him, by himself. He couldn’t deny that he had anger issues. He had already admitted that he did. She would use this as the trigger he needed to finally seek help.
By the time she was showered and dressed she was beginning to feel a little stronger, a tiny bit more positive now that she could see a way forward.
She came downstairs to find a note on the kitchen table.
Gone to the gym x
Good. He would have a bit more time to reflect on his actions before she confronted him. Hopefully that would work in her favour. And it meant she had the house to herself.
As she slumped on the sofa, a loud knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
She sat bolt upright.Shit! Margery. She had completely forgotten about their arrangement. She glanced at the clock: it was half past ten. She was an hour late. She opened the door, plastering a smile across her features.
Margery was beaming at her. She wore a turquoise linen jacket and a large-brimmed straw hat. She was looking at her with a quizzical expression, clearly hesitant in case she was disturbing her. Helena had a strong urge to collapse into her arms and rest her head on Margery’s ample chest, to be wrapped in a warm and motherly embrace. She realised once again with a pang of longing how much she missed her mum, the frailty of her small frame as she held her in her arms.
‘Our shopping trip! I’m so sorry, Margery. I should have called… I’m afraid I’m not feeling too great.’
‘Oh dear, yes.’ Margery nodded sympathetically. ‘I can see that.’
Helena was grateful that the black rings under her eyes from her sleepless night would at least make this appear true. ‘It was so rude of me not to call you first thing. You must have been waiting…’
‘No, no, not to worry at all. I didn’t want to bother you – I thought something more important must have come up.’
‘Absolutely not. I’m afraid I’ve woken up with a terrible sore throat. I don’t want to pass on my germs, so I think it’s probably best if we take a rain check today.’
Margery smiled and nodded. ‘I quite understand. Don’t worry. I’ll leave you to it… I’m sure I can find the shop on my own…’
‘I’d still love to come with you if you wouldn’t mind waiting a couple of days? Could we possibly postpone until Monday? There’d still be plenty of time for it to arrive before Johnny comes…’
Margery’s eyes lit up at the renewed offer of help. ‘Are you quite sure dear?’
‘Of course I am. I’m sure whatever I have will have passed by then. It’s probably from Raffy’s school – such breeding grounds for germs those places…’ Helena forced a laugh.
Having agreed to meet on Monday, Margery set off back down the path with a cheery wave, wishing Helena a speedy recovery.
She closed the door and pressed her forehead against the frame. She made herself a strong cup of coffee and walked out into the garden. The grass felt damp under her bare feet. She could hear her mother telling her how healing walking barefoot was, how you needed to ground yourself. The sky was bright despite the thin layer of cloud that hovered. The air was close and humid. It felt cloying. She longed for a cool breeze to blow through, to break the stifling tension she felt surround her.
*
When Noah returned from the gym, showered and changed, it was time for lunch. He had stopped off at the shops, a miracle in itself, and picked up some ingredients for a salad. Helena sat at the table and watched as he assembled the food, making idle chit-chat about the gym and the supermarket, anything to avoid the elephant in the room.
