Elly was released from hospital this afternoon. Now she has the rest of the week off on sick leave. She’s still requesting I give her space. I should be handed a medal for my restraint in not pounding down her door. It’s killing me not being able to see her.
Instead, I spend my free time researching ways to control IBD. The responses range from prescribed drugs to healers, fortune tellers, and magic potions. She was right, there is no magic cure, no quick fix. This will take time. But it’s time I’m willing to invest. Especially since this is all my fault.
At least she let me move her into one of Jack’s apartments. It’s near the hospital in Waterloo where she has been referred to as an outpatient. I know she must be bad if she’s so fearful of being on public transport she swallowed her pride and let me relocate her. I fibbed and said Madison healthcare would cover it.
Megan needed no convincing to move into the penthouse apartment and I think Elly didn’t have the strength to fight her.
Considering my thoughts are preoccupied with Elly, I’m mildly regretting agreeing to take Mum out for dinner this evening but it’s already too late. George has picked her up from St. Albans and he’s on his way to my apartment.
“Daniel,” I call down the hallway. “Are you ready for dinner with Granny?”
“Almost,” he shouts back from his bedroom. I walk down the hall and knock once on the door then push it open. He’s naked except for a superman cape around his shoulders. Bloody hell.
“That’s not what I would call almost.” I shake my head, stifling a laugh. I would let him away with blue murder right now so long as I can see him. I had to beg Gemina. “Can you get dressed please into something sensible? She’ll be here any minute now.”
He pulls the cape off with a flourish and sets it over a pile of something colourful on the ground.
I frown, bending down to find a bag of sweets under it.
“Where did you get those?” I ask sharply. That’s way too much sugar for him.
“I got them at the supermarket,” he says in a small voice.
“I didn’t buy them for you,” I say, assessing the volume. He’s allowed one maximum on a treat day. Gemina wouldn’t buy him this much either. “Where did you get them?”
He bites his lip nervously and drops his head.
“Daniel,” I say calmly. “Did you take these without asking me?”
He shrugs. “Got them in the supermarket.”
I take a deep breath. “Did you walk out without paying for these?”
He looks back at me sullenly.
“Bloody hell,” I mutter under my breath. I’m raising a criminal. This is how it all starts. One minute he’s stealing sugary snacks, the next thing he’s leading military coups. What am I doing wrong here? Is this normal for a seven-year-old?
“Didn’t I teach you not to steal?” I run my hand over the back of my neck. “Do we need to have some more conversations about right and wrong? Tomorrow we’re going to the supermarket, and you will explain what you’ve done. Then you’ll pay this back from your pocket money. Granny will not be pleased.”
His eyes widen. “Don’t tell Granny Kane!” he cries, thrashing his arms about. I knew that would do the trick. Granny Kane is as scary as Mrs. Maguire.
“This is the second time you’ve stolen something.” I come down to his level. Maybe we need to change counsellors. “You stole the pills from Elly’s bag. I’m very disappointed in you.”
“No, I didn’t!” He stamps his foot in a ridiculous show of defence.
“And now you lie to me?” Now I’m really disappointed. “That’s it, you’re not going to Matt’s birthday party on Saturday. You leave me with no choice if you can’t tell the truth.”
“That’s not fair!” he wails, his face going red. His tiny hands ball into fists. “I didn’t steal Elly’s pills! They were at Mum’s house, so it wasn’t stealing.”
I stare at him, confused. “What do you mean you found them at Mum’s house? They came from Elly’s bag.”
“No, they didn’t.” His bottom lip quivers at the injustice of being questioned over his actions. If I don’t handle this carefully this will be a full blown tantrum. “Mum said you would be upset if you knew and told me to say yes when anyone asked me if I got them from Elly’s bag. I wanted to see why Mum liked them. Am I in trouble?”
The blood drains from my face.
“For stealing, yes,” I say in a measured voice, putting my arm around his shoulders. “We shouldn’t keep secrets from each other, do you understand? I’ll explain that to your mother.”
His lip stills and he nods.
“Now go put some clothes on. Granny is looking forward to seeing you.”
I walk downstairs so Daniel can’t see how angry I am as I process what he’s said. So many thoughts race through my head. What the fuck? The pills were Gemina’s? Is everyone on these bloody pills except for me? Is Gemina taking these pills while looking after our son? Sure, she’s looked dazed and scatty recently, but she always looks like that.
The hairs on my neck rise. She made my son lie to me.
She’s gone too far this time. The woman is going to ruin me.
There’s a noise coming from the kitchen, an incessant low beeping that I can’t locate. For a second I wonder if it’s my heart about to give in. The noise seems to be coming from between the fridge and the microwave. I open the fridge, the microwave, the cooker, fiddle with the smart water purifier, check the sensor trash can and turn off the coffee machine.
Nothing. What’s the source? What’s this thing that is intended to torture me?
Jack! I bellow to the roof even though he can’t hear me.
Between my deceiving ex-wife, my criminal son, my girlfriend that never wants to see me again and this apartment with its smart gadgets talking to me, I’ve had better weeks.
Elly
I gaze out the window of the riverside apartment from my comfy armchair. We are in Waterloo, in the heart of central London, with a birds-eye view of the London Eye, Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament.
I feel as if I am living in a hotel.
There is a gym, swimming pool, sauna, steam room, spa and a communal roof terrace. If you asked me one year ago where I thought I would be living in London, I would have never imagined this place.
Megan hung one of her paintings in the hallway to see if anyone noticed. She hopes Jack Mathews walks in, sees the painting, and decides he needs them all throughout the world. I can’t fault her ambition.
It’s a dream, but it’s tainted.
We can’t stay long-term, no matter how much Megan begs. The steroids are working and my inflammation is reducing so there is no reason for us not to move back into our house.
I’m making use of Madison’s free counselling service. Since the flare-up I’ve been so anxious. Anxious for what could have happened and what could happen in the future. I had my first counselling session yesterday. I was so nervous I actually prepared answers to the questions I thought she would ask.
The speech went out the window with the first question. I can’t even remember what it was. Her way of phrasing innocent questions seemed to pull the strongest of emotions from me. She had me crying within minutes. She didn’t focus solely on my IBD either, she strayed into more dangerous territory like my relationship with my mum and what happened with Tristan.
But I came out feeling a little lighter and more optimistic and I’m trying to apply some of the techniques she has taught me for dealing with stressful situations.
I’m not good company anyway right now. Ironically besides the lack of housemates, I’m still not sleeping well. As I lie in bed, unwelcome visions of Gemina and Tristan flood my head. If I take him back, what happens the next time she threatens to take Daniel away? Will he sleep with her? She will always have a hold over him.
“There’s another delivery,” Megan calls as she comes through the front door. Poor Megan’s mothering me like Florence Nightingale.
As I turn, I see an enormous bouquet of dark violet flowers.
She sniffs them. “They smell nice. What are they? Doesn’t Tristan know that roses are sexy? These look like something I would put on my granny’s grave.”
I laugh. “They’re the bearded iris, the national flower of Croatia.”
Her mouth forms an O shape. “Sweet. There’s a card. Here.” She passes over the white envelope.
I tear it open, my heart in my mouth. It’s in Croatian. It’s pretty badly written with amusing typos but I get the gist.
Elly, It’s taking all my willpower not to come across London and beg your forgiveness. It goes against my character to not go after what I care about most. But I want to give you the space that you need. I’m here, waiting, when you are ready. Tristan x
Something else is in the envelope. I stare down confused at the decorative wooden spoon then smile when I realise what it is. It’s an old Welsh tradition to give your loved one a love-spoon as a token of your affection.
“He’s really trying,” Megan looks at me, hopeful. “He’s hitting all the nationalities there. I mean it’s soppy, but God loves a trier.”
“He is that.” I nod sadly. I’m just not sure he can give me what I need.
My phone vibrates loudly on the countertop. I look at the number lighting up the screen. “It’s him.”
“Stop!” Megan hisses. “Does he know we’re talking about him? He just happens to call when I deliver the flowers to you? Is he watching us?” She flaps her arms in a panic. “These smart apartments are just a way to monitor us, like Big Brother!”
I roll my eyes. “Calm down, Megan. No one is watching us. And if they were, they’d soon get bored of watching us watching telly.”
“Although if Jack Mathews wants to watch me, I’m down with that.” She lifts her top up flashing her breasts. “Hi, Jack! If you want a closer look, feel free to come over.”
I roll my eyes. “I think everyone on the London Eye saw that.”
We both stare down at the phone while it continues buzzing.
Her eyes go wide. “He’s persistent.”
Before I can stop her, she answers. “Tristan. Hi, she’s here.” She puts the phone on speaker and hands it over.
I narrow my eyes mouthing ‘what the hell’ at her.
“Check your bag, Elly,” Tristan’s gravelly voice demands over the phone.
“What?”
“Check your bag,” he repeats. “The side pocket where you stashed your mum’s pills. Check it now.”
I scan the living room for the bag, spotting it under a heap of Megan’s bras on the sofa. In silence I fumble with the zipper and push my hand into the side pocket.
“Did you find it?” he demands.
I stare down at the full bottle of pills in my hands, confused. “But—“
“It wasn’t your fault. I’m so sorry, Elly,” he says gruffly. “Daniel admitted he took them from Gemina. He saw his mother take them all the time and wanted to try them.
I fall back onto the sofa as Megan gasps beside me. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t cause Daniel’s overdose. Guilt lifts from my shoulders like a heavy weight.
“I love you, Elly.”
My face screws up in tears as I hang up.
Megan watches me, wide-eyed. “What are you going to do?”
I look out at the iconic London skyline and know what I need. “I’m going home.”
