AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’ll text him right now and ask him to meet us there,” Sarah promised, slipping out her phone. She glanced at Mairi, smiling to soften her earlier sternness. “What do you say?”
“All right,” Mairi said quietly, and then gave her mother a sheepish look. “Sorry, Mum.”
Nathan didn’t come to Pizza Express. He didn’t even text Sarah back, which felt ominous. Still, she rallied for the sake of her children, and they all had a good time, with Mairi’s mood brightening when she got all her German vocab right when Sarah tested her.
“You’re going to be fine,” Sarah assured her as they walked out to the car afterward. “But, more importantly, you’re doing your best, and that’s all you can do, whether that’s a six or a nine or even a two or three. The number doesn’t matter, Mairi.”
Mairi shot her a funny, uncertain look. “This doesn’t sound like you, Mum.”
“Doesn’t it?” Sarah knew it didn’t. Like Nathan, she once would have been cheering Mairi on to get all nines, insisting that she was capable of it.If you just put in a little effort, Mairi, you can get the grades you deserve. “Well, I clearly don’t need to put pressure on you, because you’re doing that all by yourself, and I don’t like to see it, sweetheart. You’re sixteen, and life is short.”
Mairi nodded, not looking at her, and as she reached for the handle of the car door, her coat sleeve slid up and Sarah spotted that livid red line again on her wrist. This time there could be no pretending she hadn’t seen it, or that it might be something else. Gently, she took hold of her daughter’s arm; Mairi froze for a second and then tried to pull away.
“Mairi,” Sarah said, keeping her voice low. Owen was already in the car, but she wanted to make sure he couldn’t overhear. “You’ve been harming yourself.”
Mairi didn’t bother to deny it. “It’s no big deal,” she said, yanking her arm away from Sarah’s grasp. “Everybody does it. It’s just a way to deal with stress. I won’t do it again.”
Was that what her daughter really thought? Sarah felt a wave of unbearable sadness sweep over her.I don’t want to live this way. And she didn’t want Mairi to live like this, either.
“We’ll talk about it later,” she said, hoping it sounded more like a promise than a threat. “I want to help you, Mairi.”
Her daughter didn’t reply as she threw herself into the car, closing the door behind her with a slam.
Back at the house, Mairi disappeared upstairs to revise, and Owen went to have a shower. Nathan still wasn’t home, and Sarah busied herself mindlessly tidying up the family room before she decided what she really needed was a glass of wine. She opened a bottle from the dusty wine rack in the pantry and rather recklessly poured herself a large glass. She wasn’t much of a midweek drinker, but she found she needed a little Dutch courage for what came next.
She was halfway through her drink, sipping slowly, when Nathan opened the front door twenty minutes later. It was past eight o’clock, and he hadn’t texted her about dinner—or anything else.
His footsteps sounded cautious, almost as if he were tiptoeing. She knew the exact moment when he paused by the study door in the hall, wondering, no doubt, if he could slip in there without her noticing. Mairi and Owen were still upstairs; the house was so quiet, Sarah fancied she could hear him breathing.
“I’m in the family room,” she called out, her voice sounding strange to her own ears—friendly, yet also flat.
After another few seconds’ pause, Nathan walked into the kitchen, standing at the island as he took in the sight of her sitting on the sofa, wineglass aloft.
“Hard day?” he asked, and Sarah turned to gaze at him.
There he was, her husband of twenty years, looking so familiar and yet also like a stranger. Rumpled hair, rumpled suit, bags under his eyes, lines of strain by his nose and mouth—was it reallyjustwork that was keeping him out so often, making him so distant? And, if it was, should she try to be more understanding?
And yet she’d been understanding for nearly a year, and things between them had only become worse.
“It’s been as hard as most others,” she replied, and took another sip of wine. “Because they’ve all been quite hard these last few months, Nathan—not that you’ve cared or even noticed.”
Nathan let out a weary sigh as he raked a hand through his hair. “Do we have to do this now, Sarah—”
“Do what?” Sarah asked, genuinely curious. “What are we doing, Nathan? Because I’d love it if you could tell me the truth, and not fob me off about how busy work is.”
“Work is busy—”
“I know. Iknow.” She straightened where she sat, putting her wineglass on the coffee table as she looked at him with a mixture of earnestness and despair. “But something else is going on, and I wish you’d just tell me what it is. You’re home late nearly every night, you barely talk to me or the kids, you can’t even rouse yourself to reply to a text—”
“Is this about Pizza Express? Because by the time I saw it, I’d figured you’d already gone and come back. There didn’t seem to be any point.”
“No point even inreplying? In letting us know you’re sorry you couldn’t make it?” Sarah shook her head slowly. “It would have been good if you’d been there, you know. Owen was disappointed you didn’t come, and Mairi—” Her voice caught. “Mairi’s been cutting herself, Nathan.”
His eyes widened. “Cutting—”
“Yes, you know, self-harm? Teenaged girls often do it—take a razor blade or something and slice their skin open.” A shudder went through her. “And Mairi’s doing it, because she’s so stressed.”
For the first time, she saw what looked like true remorse cross her husband’s face. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.” He blew out a breath. “What can we do?”
