Something Wonderful Read online

“So, what is it you wanted to see me about?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know, Michelle, I haven’t seen you since you threw me out of my own home. We only communicate via text message or did you forget that?”

  “I’m sorry, but things couldn’t go on the way they were.”

  “Agreed,” he said. “But I’m pleased to see you’ve finally come to your senses.”

  “What does that mean… come to my senses?”

  “You want me to come home, I get it, my cases are in the car. We’ll say no more about it.”

  “I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick here, Richie.”

  “Oh?”

  “I didn’t want to see you today so we could reconcile, far from it.”

  “Well, what do you want?”

  “A divorce.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t love you anymore.”

  “You’ve lost the plot, woman,” he announced. “I’m not agreeing to a divorce.”

  “You don’t have to agree to it.”

  “We would have to remain separated for two years before we can even consider a divorce.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do, but after that time, I’ll file for divorce.”

  “Can’t we talk about this?”

  “No.” I wanted to shut the idea of a reconciliation down because there was no hope of one now or in the future. “It’s not what I want, and once you’ve thought about it, you’ll know it’s for the best.”

  “Is there anybody else?”

  “Don’t be stupid.” I wanted him to believe me, but he wasn’t far off the mark. Emotionally, I was over Richie, had been for a long time, but Carol was constantly in my thoughts. Could it be I’d fallen for her? I thought so but wanted to be careful not to transfer any residual feelings I had for Richie over to her. It wouldn’t be fair on anybody involved. “We were kids when we met and fell in love, and I really think if I hadn’t fallen pregnant with Dillon, our romance would have blown itself out, like most teen things do.”

  “I still love you, Shell.”

  Wow, I thought. The first genuine emotions I’ve seen from you in years. “But are you in love with me still?” I was certain I knew the answer, but it seemed I was wrong.

  There was a slight pause. “Yes.”

  “Honestly?” I wanted him to think about it and not give a knee jerk reaction.

  “Yes, I love you, I always did.”

  “Then how could you have treated me the way you did?”

  “I didn’t realise I was treating you so badly.”

  “And that’s part of the problem. If you’d loved and cherished me, things might have been different between us, but for me, there’s no way back. I love you and always will, but I’m not in love with you anymore.”

  Tears filled his eyes. I felt awful. He genuinely believed I wanted him to come home.

  “Then there’s nothing more to say, is there?”

  “I don’t want us to be enemies.”

  “I don’t want that either, but I need time to get my head around this. Leaving here today knowing you want to end our marriage wasn’t how I imagined things going.”

  I moved to the other sofa and sat to his side. I took his hand in mine. “We had more than most people, and I’ll always be grateful for that, but I don’t want to live a lie anymore, Rich, I hope you understand that.”

  “I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah, you did, but I’m not blameless and maybe if I’d spoken up years ago, we wouldn’t be in this mess now.” I rubbed his hand. “We have Dillon to consider. I don’t want to play tug of war with him.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “He can stay here with me, or live with you, but it has to be his choice.”

  “When are we going to tell him?”

  “I think he already knows.” I nodded to the doorway. Dillon stood staring at the pair of us. Pain was etched across his face.

  Richie spoke first. “Come and sit down, son.”

  “What’s the point?” His face told me how angry and hurt he was. “You’ve already made your decision and fuck what I think.”

  “Watch your mouth, Dillon,” Richie warned.

  “It never bothered you before,” he argued.

  “But it does now.”

  “Too late.” He turned and stormed off.

  “DILLON,” Richie yelled. “Get your arse back here, right now.”

  “Leave him be, just for now. He’s upset.”

  “I know, but we need to talk, as a family.”

  “We will do, but you know what he’s like if we try and force him. Leave him with his thoughts for a while, then we’ll try and talk to him.”

  Chapter Twelve - We Are Family

  We continued to talk. It wasn’t easy, but then again, this conversation was never going to be all hearts and flowers.

  “No matter what happens between us, Dillon has to come first. He’s already out of hand…”

  “And that’s my fault,” he admitted. “You know, I’ve had time to do a lot of thinking of late, and I’ve ruined him, giving him everything he wants. But I worked hard to get to where I am and thought that is what good dads did.”

  “We’ve raised a spoiled, entitled monster, but it’s not too late. If he sees we’re still committed as parents he will come around, in time.”

  Richie put his head in his hands. “What are we going to do about this place?”

  “I don’t know–do you want it?”

  “Not really,” he admitted. “It’ll be too big for just me.”

  “Well I don’t particularly want to stay here either.”

  “Then we sell up and split the profits. Both of us get a fresh start.”

  I wasn’t used to dealing with this more reasonable side of Richie. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m not going to try and screw you out of what’s rightfully yours, Shell. Your parents were good to me. I’m grateful for what they did and without them taking us in, I might have been working somewhere with no prospects. I won’t disrespect their memory by playing the arsehole and making things hard.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Nothing to say. I’ll set up a meeting with our lawyers and accountants for next week then we can go and iron everything out, make sure money is put aside for Dillon’s education.”

  “Good idea.”

  “There is no rush to sell. We’re mortgage free, it’s just the bills that will need to be covered…”

  “Woah, hang on a minute, this is all moving too fast.” I suddenly felt anxious.

  “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is, but slow down just a little. Let’s file a legal separation, but leave everything else for a little while?”

  “If you want, I was just thinking what was easier.”

  “Nothing else needs to change for the moment.” I felt overwhelmed, like I was losing everything in the blink of an eye.”

  “Tell me what you want, Shell, and I’ll do it.”

  “Let’s file the papers to show we’ve separated then in two years, file for divorce and do it properly. In the meantime, I still have access to our bank accounts, and if you’re okay with it, leave things alone until the time comes when we need to go down the official route.”

  “Are you sure that’s how you want it?”

  “Yeah, but if either of us meets somebody new, we can look at it again. You know I’m not gonna go on a mad spending spree, and I know you won’t either. The important thing is; we’re on the same page with what we want, and Dillon is taken care of.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Shall we have a drink? I know I need one.”

  “I wouldn’t say no.”

  “Come through to the kitchen and we can have a bite to eat.”

  For the first time in years, I felt relaxed around Richie. All the tension surrounding him had melted away.

  “We need to get t
hose work surfaces mended, you mad bitch.” He shook his head and laughed.

  “I know, I feel awful.”

  “Did you really throw that steak at Dillon?”

  I tried to keep a straight face. “I did, got him right in the face.”

  We both dissolved into fits of laughter. And right then, I knew we would make better friends than we ever did as lovers.

  “I wish I’d seen that.” His eyes sparked with tears.

  “You might get a re-enactment if he comes downstairs with an attitude.”

  “I really got it wrong with him, Shell.”

  “I’m hoping he will grow out of it.”

  “I’ll talk to him, give him an incentive.”

  “That’s the worst thing you could do. He already thinks he can put his hand out for money when he likes. If you want my opinion, make him work for what he wants. Get him into the company offices during holidays, show him what it’s like to earn his own money.”

  “Good idea.”

  “He’ll thank you for it in the end, you know?”

  “How has he been?”

  “A bloody nightmare to be honest.”

  “Us divorcing might make him worse.”

  “That’s another reason I want things to slow down, give him chance to come to terms with it himself. By then, he will be eighteen, it won’t be such a shock when it happens because he’ll have had plenty of time to drink it in.”

  “Talking of drinks…”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said. “Sorry.”

  “I’ll get them. Same as usual?”

  “If you insist.”

  A few hours later, Richie and I were sat at the kitchen table, all talked out.

  Dillon walked into the kitchen and stared at both of us.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked.

  “Starving,” he replied.

  I looked at his eyes. He looked as though he’d been crying. “Are you okay?”

  “Yep,” was all he said.

  “You can talk to us, son.” Richie looked worried. “I know it’s not easy but me and your mum aren’t going to fall out anymore so things will be much better.”

  “You’re getting a divorce so how can that be better?”

  “Not right away,” Richie said. “In a couple of years, yeah, but it’ll be okay. You know, I haven’t been at home for weeks now and things have been okay, haven’t they?”

  “I suppose but…”

  “We’re not going to fight over you,” I added. “It’s your choice where you want to live.”

  “And you won’t guilt trip me if I decided to go with Dad?”

  “No. I won’t pretend I don’t want you here because I do, but I want you to be happy more than anything else, so the decision is yours to make, isn’t it, Rich?”

  “Yeah. As soon as I find somewhere, you can decide, or split your time between us both.”

  “You have it all decided, don’t you?”

  “We should have done it years ago, Dillon.” I stood up and walked over to him. I wanted to give him a hug but wasn’t sure he would allow it so stood as close as I could without making him feel uncomfortable. “You’re not a baby anymore and these things happen to a lot of people, but the most important thing is you, and the fact your dad and I can stay friends.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Now, if you’re starving, shall I order an Indian takeaway?”

  “Yeah.” He offered a weak smile. “But I really want a cigarette.”

  “I do too,” Richie added.

  I rolled my eyes. “You both know my opinions, but tonight only, then back on the patches, do you hear?”

  “If you say so,” he replied.

  “Come on, son, let’s get down to the shed.”

  I watched as father and son walked out in silence.

  It went better than I thought it would, but I had to ease up on Dillon a touch. This was new territory for him, well for all of us, and I didn’t want to be labelled the baddie. He was almost an adult and had to make his own decisions to a degree. I just hoped he would allow me to guide him along the way.

  Chapter Thirteen - Absolutely Not Fabulous

  Another week passed by, and life was good.

  I agreed to meet Maggie Jane and Valerie after work.

  By the time I arrived, she and her partner in crime were already pissed.

  “Oooh, here she is.” Maggie Jane patted the seat next to her. “I saved you a seat, Shell.”

  “How much have you both had to drink?” Plenty, by the copious empty bottles on their table.

  “Just a few sherries,” Valerie replied, gurning. Her eyes were off in different directions. I turned away because looking at her was making me feel dizzy.

  “More than a few by the state of you both.”

  Maggie Jane dressed in her usual garish colours, styled by Louis Braille with make-up applied by Helen Keller. She looked a right twat, but there was no point trying to discuss it with her.

  Valerie was another matter entirely. I dreaded to think what her daughters had to contend with.

  Both cackled like hyenas, drawing stares from the less rowdy of punters within earshot of their shrillness.

  A fly on the wall documentary with these two as stars of the show would be compulsive viewing.

  I wasn’t in the mood to deal with either of them, and was only there to keep my sister abreast of the latest happenings in my life. Wanting to get home and prepare dinner, I decided to get on with it, even though most of what I said would be lost in a drunken haze.

  Both slugged drink after drink while I spoke.

  “So that’s what we agreed.” I told my sister everything, knowing full well she had only taken in a small portion of it. “The lawyers and accountants know what we want, and the paperwork is signed and sealed.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Maggie Jane slurred her words. I was surprised she was still sat upright.

  “Me neither, darling.” Valerie wobbled precariously on her stool. “From what Margaret Jane said, he was always a bit of an arsehole.”

  “He was, I admit, but what’s the point of a bitter divorce battle? It would only hurt both of us, and Dillon in the long run, plus make our solicitors and accountants even wealthier than they already are.”

  “He’s up to something–the slimy little shit.”

  “Oh, don’t start, Mags. We just wanted to do it the right way…”

  “Don’t be so naïve, Shell, nobody has a civilised divorce, not when money and property is involved, and when he finds out about Carol....” She waved at a passing male waiter. “Erm, Perdóname, garçon, three large drunken elf’s, s’il vous plaît.” She held out her glass. “Danke schön.”

  I cringed. She was mixing English, Spanish, French and German. God knows what he thought of her.

  “Oooh, sounds truuuuuuuly scrumptious,” Valerie sing-songed, unhelpfully before resting her head on the table.

  Please don’t sing, I prayed.

  Thankfully, she decided not to regale us with a rendition of one of the more well-known songs from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I heard her mumble something and wondered if she was about to enter a Sherry induced coma?

  “Err, sorry, love,” he replied in a thick Mancunian accent. “I only speak English, and you have to order and pay for your drinks at the bar.”

  Sorry, I mouthed silently. He nodded his thanks, obviously used to dealing with these Patsy Stone and Edina Monsoon wannabe’s.

  I was so embarrassed. “Mags, you’re not in some swanky French restaurant in town. This is Wetherspoon’s, and they don’t do table service.”

  “Oh, bugger this for a lark,” she said, remembering where she was. “We need to go somewhere a bit more upmarket don’t we, Val?”

  Valerie lifted her head, her eyes still looking at different sides of the room. “Agreed, darling, but please call me Valerie…”

  “Don’t you think you both need to call it a day and head home?”

  “Piffle,” Valerie slurred. I don’t
know what was going on with her hair. I wondered if she ever ran a brush through it. “Let’s rock and roll.”

  “Oh, hell.” This is all I need. “I don’t think either of you are in a fit enough state to go anywhere.”

  “Bollocks,” Maggie Jane shouted. “I know a lovely little lap dancing bar around the corner. I think it’s called Flange, or something like that. Beautiful girls in there too. You’ll be right at home there, Dykey Dora. We should call Carol and get her to meet us there, my treat.”

  I ignored her comments about Carol. “It is not called Flange, as you well know.”

  “Then what is it called?”

  “Flanigan’s.”

  “Flange is much better, but whatever.” She shrugged her shoulders. “We should go.”

  “You can frig off, Mags. I’m not paying seventy-five quid for some half-dressed slapper to hang my coat up.”

  “It’ll be fun.”

  “You’re going home, and so are you, Valerie.”

  “I’m horseriding at three,” she added. “I can’t possibly go home.”

  “There’s no way you’re getting on a horse in that state, Valerie. You’ll do yourself an injury.”

  “Don’t fuss, Michelle, I’ll be fine…”

  “Talk to her, will you, Mags?”

  “I’m going with her, it’s years since I rode side saddle.”

  “Side saddle–are you having a laugh? When did you ever ride side saddle? You almost shit yourself riding that donkey along Blackpool beach and screamed all the way until Mum lifted you off the smelly old thing.”

  “All lies,” she yelled, as the young waiter approached the table.

  “Lies, lies, lies,” Valerie parroted. “You can’t hiiiiiide your lying eyes…”

  Oh, no. She was going to sing. I had to get them out of there and fast.

  “Excuse me,” the waiter said, looking at me as the only responsible adult. “Would you mind taking your friends outside? We’re getting complaints and the manager has insisted they leave.”

  “No worries, love. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay, but we won’t serve them anything else, so they’re better off going home to sleep it off.”

  “Come on, you two, I’m taking you both back to mine.”

  “What about Red Rum?” Valerie squawked. “I have an appointment at three. And I need to get home and change into my jodhpurs.”