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“Don’t,” she barks, trying to shrug away but is forced to stop by the pain in her back.
I’m too slow in reacting, which makes her reach for one of her crutches, and she wallops me with it with all the strength she has. “I said, don’t!”
“Christ, Becs!” I yell, rubbing my arm as I jump from the bed.
“I can’t…I can’t be near you right now, Will. I need you to leave.”
“We can’t leave it like this. We need to talk about it.”
“I can’t, William. Please, go.”
It’s arrived. This is it. The moment I lose her. Lose everything.
I nod slowly, even though she won’t look at me. “Okay. I’m going to call Gill first. Get her to come round.”
“Don’t you dare,” she says, glowering at me.
“Becca, you can’t even get yourself down the stairs…”
“Then I will call her. If and when I need to.”
I’m not happy about that, but I nod in agreement. “Can I come back?” I ask. “To finish talking? To…see you. And the kids.” God…the kids. When I picture their faces, something attaches itself to my chest. It pulls on my heart, makes my ribs feel like they’re about to crack. “Please, Becs.”
“I’ll let you know. But I need you to get out now, Will. Take some things and stay away until you hear from me.”
Until. I cling to that word.
Nodding again, I open the wardrobe and start packing.
Chapter Eighteen
William
For hours, I drive around in my van. I don’t go anywhere, just follow the roads until I need to refuel, and then I drive some more. Eventually, I end up in a retail centre car park, watching the world go by. People from all walks of life pass my window. Young. Old. Couples. Families. I see smiles and laughter. Straight faces and looks of melancholy. I wonder, as I sit here, if any one of these strangers know what I’m feeling. What would they do if they were me? Have they got somewhere, someone to go to?
Becca’s it for me. My family begins and ends with my wife and kids. I even felt a punch of grief when I gave Poppy a final rub behind the ears on my way out. Without them, I’m alone in a fucking retail park. I can’t sleep here. I could get a hotel, but I’ll run out of money soon enough. My only option has been in the back of my head since I left home, left Becca’s, this morning, but crippling embarrassment has made me put off acknowledging it for as long as possible. Eventually, though, I force myself to turn the key in the ignition before I can change my mind…and make my way to Rick’s.
A whole pot of emotions simmer inside me as I wait for an answer outside the front door of Rick’s terraced house. Guilt for not staying in touch. Nerves over what I’m about to tell him. Gall about what I need to ask.
I clear my throat when the door starts to open, stuff my fidgeting fingers in my pockets.
“Walker!” Rick’s voice booms. He throws his arms out, wraps me in a bear hug. “Where the hell have you been, mate!”
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” I say when he releases me. “Last couple of months have been mental.”
“Come in, come in.” Rick steps to one side, ushering me inside his hallway. “It’s bloody good to see you.”
“Yeah. You too.” I start walking to his living room. “Is, uh, Gemma home?”
“Nah. She’s at her mum’s with the kids. She’ll be back in an hour or so, though. She’d love to see you if you’re sticking around that long.”
“Yeah, about that…”
Rick stops in his tracks, eyeing me up with creases of confusion between his eyes. “Everything okay?”
“I hate to do this, mate, really, but I was wondering if you could put me up for a few days while I find a place to rent.”
“What?” His mouth stays open even after he’s finished talking.
“Obviously, if it’s okay with Gemma, too. I’ll stay out the way.”
Stunned, he falls onto the armchair. “Bloody hell, Will, what’s going on? Ben didn’t mention a word at work today.”
I join him in sitting, choosing a spot on the couch opposite. “Ben doesn’t know yet,” I admit. “But…Becca and I are separating.”
Rick smacks the arms of his chair and blows out a puff of air. “Wow. You and Rebecca. Never saw that coming. I’m so sorry, mate. What the hell happened?”
I could lie so easily, be creative with the truth. God knows I want to. Just for this moment, I want to spare myself the awkwardness and, if I’m honest, the shame I can’t help feeling. But…I don’t want to repeat the last twenty years even more. What’s the point in any of this, of blowing up my family, losing Becca, if I’m not going to at least try to live authentically? If I’m going to continue to lie. And hide. Make excuses.
