ever think it’s weird that we still see so much of each other now?’ She tested the subject on him.
‘No,’ Jimmy said firmly, pulling himself up into a seated position on the worktop. ‘I think that after everything that happened, the fact we’re able to put our children first and be friends means we’re well adjusted and like, you know – cool.’
‘So why aren’t we divorced yet?’ Catherine asked him, lowering her voice.
Jimmy didn’t answer for a second or two, and then he said, ‘Because it costs a lot of money and we haven’t got any right now.’
‘It’s just sometimes I wonder …’ Catherine trailed off.
‘Wonder what?’
‘Eloise told me today that she thinks you’re going to move back in, that we’re going to get back together. She’s taking you and me getting on and you being here so much as a sign. We can’t let them have false hope, Jimmy. We need to talk to them again. Get them to see that this is the way things are for good.’
Jimmy drummed the heels of his cowboy boots against the kitchen cupboards. ‘I don’t want to do that,’ he said.
Catherine turned to look at him, onion tears standing in her eyes. ‘But why not? It’s the truth.’
Jimmy paused for a moment. ‘I know it’s the truth, but I don’t want to take hope away from an eight-year-old, let alone her kid sister. When you’re a kid is practically the only time when hope seems like a real possibility. We might as well tell them Father Christmas isn’t real, or that it’s been us they’ve been bankrupting and not the tooth fairy all this time. Next you’ll be wanting to tell Leila that Jesus is no more than a historical figure and not the son of God.’
‘This is different, Jimmy, and you know it,’ Catherine said in a low voice. ‘We can’t lie to them about
this
. It’s their lives we’re talking about.’
‘We’re not lying, we’re not doing anything,’ Jimmy corrected her. He hopped off the counter, put one hand on each of Catherine’s shoulders and looked into her eyes.
‘Look, we hurt each other pretty badly. We tore each other up and those two were in the middle of it. And now you don’t hate me any more, and that’s all right by me, and I’m not messed up by you any more and that’s all right by you. Those two girls in there have had enough pain in their lives already. It can’t be wrong to let an eight-year-old have hope, it just can’t.’
‘But it’s false hope,’ Catherine persisted, wiping the back of her hand under her eyes and feeling an instant sting.
‘All hope is false hope – that doesn’t make it a bad thing,’ Jimmy said. ‘Look, if they ask me anything like, “When are you moving back in, Dad?” then I’ll tell them I’m not, and you’ll do the same, and in a few months they’ll stop asking. In a year or two they won’t even think about it any more and the way we live will seem normal to them. The hope will fade all by itself, don’t you worry.’
‘That sounds wrong coming from you, the eternal optimist,’ she said, catching a low note in his voice with some concern.
‘Oh, don’t get me wrong,’ Jimmy said, mustering a grin. ‘I’m still an optimist. It’s just that I’m starting to realise eternity is a very long time. So what do you say – is that a plan?’
Catherine looked into the living room where Eloise was picking out the riff from ‘Hotel California’ on Jimmy’s acoustic guitar, her head bent over the strings while Leila watched her fingers, trying to pick up the notes herself. Just at that moment her children felt safe and happy, and it was a feeling that Catherine was as desperate to preserve as her husband was.
‘OK, we’ll do that then,’ she said. ‘We won’t lie but we won’t say anything either.’
The two of them stood in silence for a moment in the small galley kitchen, sensing another thread of the lives they had once woven together so confidently and hopefully, unravelling and drifting apart.
‘No,’ Jimmy said firmly, pulling himself up into a seated position on the worktop. ‘I think that after everything that happened, the fact we’re able to put our children first and be friends means we’re well adjusted and like, you know – cool.’
‘So why aren’t we divorced yet?’ Catherine asked him, lowering her voice.
Jimmy didn’t answer for a second or two, and then he said, ‘Because it costs a lot of money and we haven’t got any right now.’
‘It’s just sometimes I wonder …’ Catherine trailed off.
‘Wonder what?’
‘Eloise told me today that she thinks you’re going to move back in, that we’re going to get back together. She’s taking you and me getting on and you being here so much as a sign. We can’t let them have false hope, Jimmy. We need to talk to them again. Get them to see that this is the way things are for good.’
Jimmy drummed the heels of his cowboy boots against the kitchen cupboards. ‘I don’t want to do that,’ he said.
Catherine turned to look at him, onion tears standing in her eyes. ‘But why not? It’s the truth.’
Jimmy paused for a moment. ‘I know it’s the truth, but I don’t want to take hope away from an eight-year-old, let alone her kid sister. When you’re a kid is practically the only time when hope seems like a real possibility. We might as well tell them Father Christmas isn’t real, or that it’s been us they’ve been bankrupting and not the tooth fairy all this time. Next you’ll be wanting to tell Leila that Jesus is no more than a historical figure and not the son of God.’
‘This is different, Jimmy, and you know it,’ Catherine said in a low voice. ‘We can’t lie to them about
this
. It’s their lives we’re talking about.’
‘We’re not lying, we’re not doing anything,’ Jimmy corrected her. He hopped off the counter, put one hand on each of Catherine’s shoulders and looked into her eyes.
‘Look, we hurt each other pretty badly. We tore each other up and those two were in the middle of it. And now you don’t hate me any more, and that’s all right by me, and I’m not messed up by you any more and that’s all right by you. Those two girls in there have had enough pain in their lives already. It can’t be wrong to let an eight-year-old have hope, it just can’t.’
‘But it’s false hope,’ Catherine persisted, wiping the back of her hand under her eyes and feeling an instant sting.
‘All hope is false hope – that doesn’t make it a bad thing,’ Jimmy said. ‘Look, if they ask me anything like, “When are you moving back in, Dad?” then I’ll tell them I’m not, and you’ll do the same, and in a few months they’ll stop asking. In a year or two they won’t even think about it any more and the way we live will seem normal to them. The hope will fade all by itself, don’t you worry.’
‘That sounds wrong coming from you, the eternal optimist,’ she said, catching a low note in his voice with some concern.
‘Oh, don’t get me wrong,’ Jimmy said, mustering a grin. ‘I’m still an optimist. It’s just that I’m starting to realise eternity is a very long time. So what do you say – is that a plan?’
Catherine looked into the living room where Eloise was picking out the riff from ‘Hotel California’ on Jimmy’s acoustic guitar, her head bent over the strings while Leila watched her fingers, trying to pick up the notes herself. Just at that moment her children felt safe and happy, and it was a feeling that Catherine was as desperate to preserve as her husband was.
‘OK, we’ll do that then,’ she said. ‘We won’t lie but we won’t say anything either.’
The two of them stood in silence for a moment in the small galley kitchen, sensing another thread of the lives they had once woven together so confidently and hopefully, unravelling and drifting apart.
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