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A cold shiver raced along her spine.Shock – I’m in shock,she thought as she listened to Myles outlining how their years of marriage could be divided (not very equally!) between them. Like the soldiers casting lots at the crucifixion.
‘And of course, I’ll need to hold onto the car, for work—’
‘Hang on, Myles.’ For some reason, mention of the car that she had bought and paid for, denying herself a cappuccino most days to make the repayments, jolted her back to some sort of sanity. ‘You can’t just assume that you’re holding onto the car?’
‘But you don’t need it,’ he said plaintively. ‘Have you even got a licence anymore? You never drive it.’
‘I never drive it because you took it over from the first day it was parked in the driveway.’ Now, somehow the hurt was being pushed aside to be replaced by something else: rage. Did he really believe she was a complete doormat? Did he actually assume that she would just sit back while he took their shared possessions as well as the family and the future she’d always dreamed of?
‘You’re just being unreasonable now,’ Myles said, chiding her as if she was an infant.
Iris took a deep breath. ‘Divorces are not easy, Myles. You can’t have imagined this would be a simple case of you telling me what you wanted and me rolling over. These things take time and if we need expert outside help, like a solicitor, then so be it. They’ll probably suggest we sell the house and the car and then divide the proceeds equally between us.’
‘Whoa, hold on a minute. Sell the car?’ There was a tremor of something close to panic in his voice. ‘You can’t think you’re taking the car from me. I need that to get to work every day.’
‘Of course the car, Myles. I did buy it after all, and the only benefit I’ve had out of it is the occasional lift to pick up the shopping.’
‘But my name is on the logbook,’ he snapped back.
‘It is. And mine is on the loan I took out to buy it, but I’ll leave the argument about that for another day,’ Iris said mulishly. The car meant nothing to her really, although she definitely didn’t want Myles ferrying Amanda Prescott about in it.
‘And what’s this with selling the house?’ he wailed. ‘Surely you can see that we can’t go on living in Amanda’s tiny flat once the baby comes along?’
‘No. I don’t suppose you can.’
‘So I thought, maybe we could move into the house. Obviously, I’m happy to pay you half of what the buying price was and—’
‘Seriously, Myles?’ she spluttered. ‘You’re living in a dream world. Even if that was a fair deal – I’ve paid back more in interest rates already than we ever took out on that mortgage. If you’re determined to do this, the house is going on the market and if you want to buy it, you can put up the cash to buy me out.’ She sounded to herself as she imagined Georgie might sound if she was hammering out a deal – strong and confident; truly a force to be reckoned with. Except, she was pretty sure, Georgie wouldn’t feel as if she was dying inside with every word she spoke.
‘You’ve changed,’ Myles said ominously. ‘It’s as if I don’t know you at all anymore.’
‘That goes both ways,’ she snapped. She was tempted to hang up now, because there was nothing to be gained from this, but at the same time, it was the only contact she’d had with him in weeks and as awful as he was being, she still loved him. Georgie would be so proud of how she sounded, but she’d be appalled at the feelings whizzing around inside Iris’s heart at this moment. ‘You were the one who had the affair and got Amanda pregnant. You hardly expect me to lay out the welcome mat for you and let you walk all over me once again.’
‘All right, I deserve that,’ he said, obviously changing tack. ‘But the truth is, Iris, I miss you.’
‘Really?’ She so badly wanted to believe him. But then she remembered why he’d called. As she listened to the background sounds of London behind him, she managed to knock some sense into herself. Was he sitting in the car with the radio still on in the background?Hercar radio – which he wanted to take along with the house and the very last shred of her dignity?
‘Maybe we could meet up and—’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Myles,’ she said.
‘No? But what harm could it do? Just the two of us, somewhere quiet, just for a chat? What if I call round after work? Pick you up in the car, and we could—’
‘No, that doesn’t suit at all.’ She debated whether she should tell him right now that she wasn’t even in England, but didn’t because there would be too much explaining. Anyway, if her plan of winning him back was going to work, she wanted to swan back into his life dolled up to the nines with a fat cheque in her back pocket. ‘No, Myles. The truth is I can’t face you at the moment,’ she said and thatwasthe truth too. ‘I’ve a new job and I’m trying to build a new life for myself.’
‘You’ve left your job?’
‘Yes, it was time.’
‘So where—’
‘What does that matter?’ It was an effort to keep the whine from her voice. She hated herself for being so pathetic, but talk of solicitors and divorces had knocked her for six. ‘If you’re determined to do this, I’ll talk to my solicitor over the next few days and we’ll see what happens next.’
‘But…’ He was lost for words. She knew it was as if she’d thrown a bucket of ice water over him and he couldn’t quite get his bearings. ‘Iris?’ he said finally in a voice that sounded so thin, he could be a hundred years old.
‘Goodbye, Myles.’ And with that, she hung up the phone. She was shaking, felt as if she might throw up and fall down all at the same time. God, she was actually glad not to be in London, but to be here in Ballycove instead, where everything seemed so simple by comparison. She sat for a long time, her body shaking with what she supposed was a form of delayed shock. She wasn’t even sure if it was because it all sounded so final with Myles. It had more to do with the fact that her life was starting again and somehow, sitting here in the dusty old attic, the reality of that absolutely terrified her.
*
