Free The Secrets of Married Women by Carol Mason Page A

seems to go on around him because he is off into his sad headspace again. ‘I can’t get a handle on you anymore Rob. I don’t know what you’re thinking. What’s happening with us? You recoiled from me on that bridge. It was like you couldn’t bear the feel of me. Is it something I’m doing wrong? Tell me and I’ll change. I’ll do anything. Rob, look at me!’
    He looks at me with sad hostility. ‘I don’t know what you’re on about.’
    ‘I can’t stand this heartbreak between us Rob.’ My voice breaks. ‘You can’t withdraw from me like this. It’s cruel. And unfair. And you’re not like that. This is what I don’t get. It’s like… it’s like your heart’s not in it anymore.’
    ‘In what?’
    ‘In this. In me. In marriage...’
    He sits there on the floor, legs drawn up, elbows on knees. Kiefer walks rings around him, attention-growling, his tail slapping the table. ‘Is there somebody else? Is that what it is?’ Funny, I think I’m less afraid of this than the alternative.
    He gets up abruptly, and it takes a lot to get Rob angry. ‘Now you’re being ridiculous. I’m not listening to anymore of this.’ He walks through the arches into the kitchen.
    I quickly pad after him, with Kiefer following. But then he just picks up his car keys off the windowsill and walks down our passage to the front door. ‘Where are you going?’ I trot after him.
    ‘Out.’
    ‘Out where?’
    He throws up his hands. ‘Out.’
    ‘I won’t let you run away.’ I kick my slippers off and waggle a foot into one of my trainers; Kiefer takes off with the other one, thinking we are playing a game. ‘I’m coming with you.’
    ‘No you’re not.’
    I try to snatch the keys off him and he sends me a look that’s filled with frustration and despair. He goes to open the front door but I try to block him. My heart is thumping. Part of me wants him to hit me because it’s some show of emotion isn’t it? ‘Don’t go,’ I plead, wrestling my other shoe off the dog. ‘I swear, if you walk out this time don’t come back.’ I don’t mean it.
    ‘Don’t be a drama queen,’ he says, and lightly moves me aside. I make a grab for his arm again but he’s already outside. I run after him, thinking about hurling myself onto the bonnet if I have to. I don’t recognize myself. I’ve become a raving lunatic.
    ‘Come back,’ I beg. I don’t want him getting in a car and driving when he’s mad. Nosy Eileen Sharrett from down the road passes with her bulldog with the pink nose and glowers at me over our hedge. When she gets by, I burst into tears. Rob backs out of the drive, the dog whimpering to see him go. I go inside and the house feels bereft now. I always recognise my love for Rob more in these dark moments after we fight, where there’s the possibility I might have lost him. I sigh, go to the window and stare out at the empty spot on the drive, willing our car to come back. He’d do this after our petty little spats. Walk out. Drive off. Get to the end of the street and come back. The second he’d walk back in that door, we both knew all was forgiven. We’d even laugh about it. We’d go to bed, snuggle, glad to have one another back.
    But he doesn’t come back. I sit on the bottom stair. Kiefer sits on the dusty parquet and growls at me because I’ve upset his lord and master. Then I realise something. For the first time I’m angry with Rob more than I feel sorry for myself or for us. And I’m helpless more than I’m optimistic. My bag is under the hall table. I dig in it for a hankie and come across a piece of paper. I open it out.
    Andrey and a phone number. I never did throw it in the bin.

Chapter Five
     
     
    ‘They had a row yesterday, Leigh and Clifford.’ Wendy polishes off her second glass of wine while I am barely down my first. Rob’s worked late all this week. You could say he’s avoiding me. ‘Jill, I didn’t know what to do. They were screaming like an old married couple. It