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‘Christ. I don’t know how you put up with it.’
‘I don’t have a lot of choice. They’re Andy’s kids.’
Angie shoots me a look, her funky eyebrows almost disappearing into her turquoise-tipped black hair. We’ve been BFFs since our primary school days in Dagenham, and she knows me better than anyone, including Andy. We drifted apart a bit during our uni years, when I was at Bristol and she was studying fashion at St Martins, but we’ve been joined at the hip ever since I moved back to London. We couldn’t be more different; I’m ambitious and driven, whereas Angie never thinks beyond the next round of drinks. Her idea of a manicure is to hack at her nails with a Stanley knife. But she knew my mother before her accident; she understands where I’ve come from, and what I’ve had to do to get to where I am. Apart from Andy and Kit, she’s my only real family.
Angie knows kids were never part of my plan, never mind three of them. But Louise played a blinder when she got herself knocked up with Tolly. She nearly pulled it off, too.
‘Talk of the devil,’ I groan, as my mobile lights up. ‘The Wicked Witch of the West.’
‘What does she want?’
‘God knows.’ My tone is light, but I feel the familiar knot of tension in my stomach. ‘It’s a bit early for her usual rant. She must have hit wine o’clock ahead of schedule.’
‘Ignore her, Caz. Let it go to voicemail.’
I’m tempted, but then the familiar guilt kicks in. Once the other woman, always the other woman. It doesn’tmatter how unreasonable Louise is, or thatshewas the reason Andy ended their marriage, not me. Somehow, I’ll always owe her.
‘She’ll only keep calling. It’s better to let her get it out of her system. Watch my bag for me, would you?’ I push myself off my stool and head to the back of the pub, near the loos, where it’s a little quieter. ‘Hello, Louise.’
‘This is the third time I’ve called,’ Louise says sharply. ‘You need to keep your phone on. You never know what might happen.’
The band around my chest tightens. Breathe, I tell myself. ‘My phonewason—’
‘Well, never mind that now. I don’t have time to teach you how to be a good mother. I’m sure you’ve forgotten, but it’s Bella’s play on Saturday. She asked me to call and make sure Andrew is coming.’
Shit.It’d totally slipped my mind. ‘Of course we haven’t forgotten,’ I fib. ‘We’ve been looking forward to it.’
‘It’s at seven. You’ll need to get there earlier if you want good seats.’
‘Fine. We’ll be there in plenty of time.’
‘Min and I are planning to take them to The Coal Shed to celebrate afterwards,’ Louise adds. ‘A special treat, since this is her first big role.’
So much for being broke. The Coal Shed is one of the most expensive restaurants in Brighton. Louise is always nagging Andy to increase her child support, even though she works full-time herself. She seems tothink we’re rolling in it. The only reason we can afford two homes is because I already had the Fulham flat long before Andy and I met. We’d never be able to afford it now. And our house in Brighton is mortgaged up to the hilt. Andy earns a good salary as INN’sEarly Evening Newsanchor, but it’s not the silly money Louise seems to think it is. We’re talking cable, after all. What with maintenance and child support and private school fees, she takes nearly two-thirds of everything Andy earns.
It suddenly occurs to me that this is Andy’s weekend with the children anyway. I’d love nothing better than a weekend alone with Andy and Kit, but my husband would be really upset, and he’d blame me. ‘Sorry, but it’s our weekend, Louise,’ I say politely. ‘I think Andy’s already made plans to take them out to dinner.’
‘Well, he can change them, can’t he?’
‘He hasn’t seen them for two weeks,’ I point out. ‘He wants to spend some time with them.’
‘What do you care? They’re not even your children,’ Louise cries, all pretence at civility evaporating. ‘Bella ismydaughter. I should be the one to take her out to dinner on her big night! She’d be spending it withbothher parents if it wasn’t for you.’
‘Louise, please—’
‘I’ll call Andrew. I should have phoned him in the first place. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s the organ grinder I need to speak to, not his monkey.’
‘You do that,’ I snap, ending the call.
My stomach churns, and I taste acid at the back ofmy throat. It’s bad enough having to deal with Tina at work, but at least I can keep her out of my bedroom. There’s no escaping Andy’s ex-wife.
It’s been more than four years since they split up, but Louise shows no signs of moving on. If anything, she’s getting worse. The sniping, the mind games, the way she poisons Bella and Tolly against me, constantly guilt-tripping Andy – she just has to snap her fingers, and he comes running. And then there are the phone calls. Sometimes she’s sobbing down the line, begging me to let him ‘come home’ to her; other times she yells abuse until I’m the one in tears when I finally hang up the phone. She’s smart enough only to call me when she knows Andy’s at work, or away on an assignment. She knows I can’t say anything to him, or I’ll look like a jealous bitch.
And what makes it so much worse is that she’s nice as pie to my face. The other day, Andy even commented on how well we got on. After everything she did to him, to us, he still has no idea what she’sreallylike.
To my surprise, my eyes suddenly blur. I’m so tired of the constant fighting, the running battles over money and the children. If I’d had any idea what it was going to be like, I’d have thought twice before I ever agreed to marry Andy.
No, I wouldn’t. I’d walk over hot coals for my husband. Louise is a bitch, but I’m not going to let her get to me. I’m just tired, that’s all.
