She laughed maniacally. ‘Of course I did. He’s not so smart. I used his thumbprint to open his phone while he slept.’
I could see other parents glancing at us as they walked back to their cars. Lord Wilson was impressively losing her shit.
I didn’t even have to question her further before we were both sitting in her 4x4 while she smoked a cigarette and told me the whole story. I thought about cadging a fag but I didn’t want Lord Wilson’s drama to be the reason I started smoking again.
‘She’s twenty-nine, you know – this Hannah one. Twenty-nine, where her tits still point upwards and she doesn’t sneeze and piss at the same time. She sent him a fucking video of herself masturbating and calling out his name! I mean, have youseenmy husband? He’s like a blob of hairy custard and she’s wanking over him?!She’s wanking over your bank balance, sweetheart. Get real.’
I wasn’t even sure she was still speaking to me but I listened anyway.
‘I’m not a fool, Phoebe. I was biding my time. I had planned to stick it out until Ruby was a little older and then fuck off, but the silly old fool thinks he’s in love with his PA. He’s fifty-five and she’ll eventually leave him, and my children will be left with a poor, pathetic, shell of a father who has nothing left. It’s so fucking cliché, I want to throw up.’ She took a long drag from her cigarette and threw the rest out of the window. ‘He’s packing as we speak.Tell the kids I’m away on business, he said. He doesn’t even have the balls to do it himself. Ugh, they’re all the fucking same, Phoebe. Men are scum. All of them. They’d stick their dicks into anything with a pulse.’
‘I’m really sorry this happened,’ I said, knowing this wasn’t any consolation to her but also a tad annoyed she’d implied that every man was as shitty as hers. ‘If I can help in any way . . .’
She turned to me and wiped her nose with her hand before quietly asking, ‘What am I going to do?’
It was then that I realised that Sarah Ward-Wilson was just as confused and miserable as the rest of us.
Saturday April 22nd
Today was mostly spent contemplating what I’d say at our next meeting with Pam. Of course I’ll mention the fact that Oliver can be a slob but I think she’s after something a little deeper. I consider myself to be an open person though, especially with Oliver, so I’m not convinced I have anything that I’ve been purposefully hiding . . . Oh. Wait:
•The Kyle dream.
•Jay.
•That aftershave he loves so much that makes him smell like damp wood.
•That sometimes I wish he’d take Molly to Dublin on his own so I could be rid of them both for a few days and play with my friends – but this makes me feel like a bad person.
Shit. So I guess Pam was right. We all have something.
*
The evening was spent in front on the television, channel-hopping through a disturbing amount of shit Saturday night programmes and eating junk.
‘Oh, I never told you about my little encounter with Lord Wilson,’ I said, grabbing a fistful of crisps. ‘Turns out her hubby has been having an affair with his assistant. She’s fucking livid; well, who wouldn’t be?’
‘Really?’ Oliver replied, taking the snack bowl away from me. ‘I suppose these things happen, though.’
‘It’s the biggest mid-life crisis cliché ever,’ I continued. ‘Next he’ll be showing up to nursery in a penis-mobile.’
‘We don’t know the full story,’ Oliver said, continuing to click the remote control. ‘We know she’s a nightmare. He might have been really unhappy. We shouldn’t judge.’
‘They have four kids. Unhappy or not, it’s a selfish, dick move. Sarah might be a nightmare but she’s still a person. Being cheated on is a horrible betrayal. Remember when my ex Alex cheated on me? It fucked with my head for ages – you know that.’
Flashbacks from that time started to dart in and out of my mind and I physically tried to shake them off, which didn’t go unnoticed.
‘Let’s not dwell on this,’ he insisted, knowing where my mind had wandered. ‘Movie? We could watch the new Spiderman? I hear it’s good.’
‘I think I’d rather be cheated on.’
He smiled weakly and proceeded to find the movie channel, while I laughed at my own joke.
Monday April 24th
I snuck into work twenty minutes late this morning, ready to explain to Dorothy that I’d been stuck in traffic, when in reality, Molly had spilled milk all down herself two minutes before we were due to leave for nursery.
I stealthily took my seat and quickly turned my PC on before noticing that there was no one else at their desks either. Not even Lucy. I could hear laughter coming from the meeting room around the corner. Oh fuck, I was going to have to make an entrance. Thankfully they all sounded in an upbeat mood. I grabbed my sales sheets and scurried along to join the meeting, wondering why the fuck everyone was so happy on a Monday morning.
