Brokenhearted
A/N: So this is a little different. Imagine being Harriet, or anyone else for that matter, stuck between Martha and Clive… Well, you wouldn't stand a chance, would you?
This will probably be two or three chapters, with the first one mainly about Clive and Harriet and their marital problems and the other(s) about Martha and Clive.
Any resemblance to a scene out of the Half Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling (not sure if it's in the movie, book, or both) is purely coincidental (not!) Always loved that bit!
I've found Clive/Harriet a little hard to write and am not entirely sure if their fighting is in character or perhaps a little too tame. Anyway, I guess in wanting to keep them likable, I may have kept it all a bit too civil and apologetic. The ending of their marriage is therefore more tragic than angry, I guess, as both of them shoulder the blame.
Chapter 1
Clive hid his face in his hands, seated at his office at Shoe Lane, sighing deeply. He'd had the most horrible night… At least, here in the solitude, he could rest. It was still quite early in the morning as the birds were still rising…
He found himself remembering that conversation long ago…
"I miss you, Marth…." She'd stopped in her tracks at that.
"We were always together, every step of the way… As pupils…" He'd faltered for a moment. "I can't deny it didn't hurt you getting Silk… I wasn't going to mention it… but, well, we always tell each other everything, don't we?"
The atmosphere between them had cleared up significantly after that…
If only it had stopped at that… But they had been at it again… Nothing had changed in that respect. This time for Head of Chambers, and he had won! But Martha had left…. To Bolton of all places… Fled back home.
Clive wondered what a psychologist would have to say about his constant need to prove himself, to outshine her… He didn't like them much himself… They were useful enough, but also tricky, on the stand. It all depended on the jury, and if you were pleading for or against them…
Simple decent folks—a wry smile crossed his lips, Martha would have scolded him for being patronizing—would see them as experts, believe whatever they said. Simple, but more skeptic people on the other hand, would perceive it as hogwash, believing that people needed to buckle up instead, which could turn them against your client. And, Clive had to admit, more sophisticated, educated people, basically fell into the same two groups: skeptics and believers. Something that was pretty hard to figure out by just looking at their faces… making the whole 'use a criminal psychologist' a difficult move for both defence and prosecution.
He sighed again. If only he hadn't been so damn stubborn! If only she hadn't!
Clive wasn't a believer anymore… perhaps he never had been…
He and Martha had had endless discussion about her staying or leaving. He had pleaded with her, threatened her even… A position over there would hurt her career! She should stay here, in London! But she hadn't, bolted of to Bolton instead… where, as far as he knew, she might as well be lying in the arms of one of her other Northern old flames this very moment….
Of course, he had been keeping tabs on her… She'd become Head of Chambers herself not long after she'd arrived. Martha had joined a small but respectable set of chambers, and as there was only one other QC in the race, as the previous Head of Chambers wanted to retire, she had won. The man she'd been running against had not liked the outcome and had taken a considerable (though admittedly not the majority) of the others with him, leaving Martha with a smaller, but devoted set. She'd weathered the storm…. Like he knew she would…
Clive wondered if he would weather the storms in his life…. He had been prideful, had resented Martha for leaving….and had, with his stupid, stupid head decided that dating Harriet instead was a wise move to make… They'd become a bit of a power couple….
Not a very happy one at that…
A few weeks ago, something big had happened… Their relationship had deteriorated before that moment, but even more so afterwards …
Clive had been in court, pleading his case. He did some defence work again as he was secretly hoping to be tapped for judge one of these days… It was far too early in his career for that, but a man could dream, couldn't he? A young woman had been tricked into helping her boyfriend steal from old ladies. Very despicable act, of course, and the prosecution had pointed this out. Clive had gone with the approach of claiming ignorance on his client's part. She wasn't too bright, so it was believable enough… On the other hand, she would do anything for the guy, only caring about him, not bothering with morals…
It wasn't technically a Silk's case, but as one of the ladies that had been robbed, had, in fact, been a Lady, the case had gotten a lot of attention. Somewhere during his closing plea, he had felt light-headed and passed out…. Fainted like a corset-wearing noblewoman…
As he had been unconscious for quite a while, Clive had been brought to the hospital, and just when he had woken up, his wife of nearly two years, Harriet, had walked in, overhearing a rather odd and hopelessly embarrassing conversation:
"Can you count my fingers?" Clive saw that he held three fingers in the air, right in front of his face.
"Three," he grumbled.
"And rather than asking you what day of the week it is… Do you know, by the way?"
"Monday," Clive said wearily…
"I'll ask you, in the spirit of Valentine's day," the male nurse continued, as the female one began to giggle, "whom your heart belongs to…?"
It was a routine they did every year, which made for a nice break during the otherwise boring questions…
Before he even registered the name, it had already passed his lips in a whisper: "Martha…"
"And here she is now…" the female nurse said, in that cheery voice they used especially for the sick…
"No, she's not…" Harriet snapped as she glared at him. "She is merely his wife…."
"Harry…" he whispered, swallowing hard, "have you heard what happened…? How?"
"The doctor will be here soon," the male nurse said, "in just a minute, and she'll explain…"
Harriet stood beside him, wondering if she should take his hand to comfort him. She'd left Shoe Lane the moment she heard the news, but she wasn't too inclined to be friendly. If he asked her to contact Martha, she would scream!
It turned out he had a heart condition that he didn't know about… He'd been lucky, it could have been a lot worse, they'd got there just in time, the doctor had told him.
Now he had to keep calm, cut down on his drinking, on coffee, on just about anything good really… On his hours too… Clive had seen the dream of once becoming a judge dissolve in front of his eyes… Surely they wouldn't want anyone with health problems?
He had come in late everyday, sleeping in at home, doctors orders. He felt like only half a man these past few weeks. And yet here he was, seated at his desk, earlier than anyone else on this sunny Wednesday morning….
Last night, he had come home early. Earlier than planned. He wished he hadn't now….
On the living room carpet, he'd seen Harriet, nearly naked and not alone either…. She had been with a solicitor named Joey…. Joey, like a singer in some pop band! He'd kept the horrible ill-fitting name as it was very recognizable…. As he was himself.
"Please have the courtesy to close your fly…" he had said coldly with a stiff upper lip, "and leave the premises while you're at it…"
Joey had left as quick as lighting and he and Harriet had remained, staring at each other. They hadn't talked, as Clive had quickly stormed out of the house too, finding himself a hotel for the night…
But today…. He knew they'd have to talk today… If not today, then tomorrow, or the day after….
Martha hadn't been to his wedding. She had been absent once more…
Clive had both been longing and dreading her presence. He would have loved to see her again, yet at the same time…
Harriet had been very pleased. She didn't need her to come and stir things up…
Martha's presence hadn't been needed for that though… She could do it quite well from a distance…
She was like a ghost in their marriage, a poltergeist, Harriet felt. An irking presence…. Always ready to disturb things.
Harriet had been happy at first, and Clive had sure seemed happy enough. But before long, it all turned sour. Harriet had wanted children, but he was very adamant that he didn't want them. Not long after, Harriet found out about Martha's miscarriage and began to wonder… Maybe Clive didn't want to have children with her?
She'd discussed the subject with one of her friends, one day: "We'd really be stuck together, if there are kids, wouldn't we? I'm not so sure I want that anymore…" Harriet had started to sob, and Clive, who'd been listening at the door, had felt his heart wrench…
This had all been his doing…. It stung that she didn't see him as a good father, but, deep down, he knew she was right… Children would not save their marriage.
Harriet came in looking rather tired that morning. Clive was glad she did. It affected her, at least, what she had done. In his first fury, he had felt like firing her, but his anger had already been replaced by a bitter feeling of loss. They had wasted years of their lives together…
He couldn't take her job as well, as their marriage was clearly doomed… She was a damn good clerk; it would be too great a loss for Shoe Lane…
In the afternoon, during some of the junior clerks tea breaks, he asked her to come up to his office. Harriet was shivering a bit…. Afraid of what was to come…
"Look, Clive… I am so, so sorry…" she said as she closed the door, tears in her eyes. He motioned that she should be silent. It was his turn to speak…
"It's time we put an end to this…. This charade…" he said, gesturing with his arms, a tremor in his voice. "Us, the marriage," he clarified, in response to her puzzled look.
"Just like that? I thought… You're not firing me?" Harriet wondered.
Clive swallowed hard. "I… I… You're a good clerk," he began, when she made a soft disapproving noise. "Practice manager, so you will," he corrected irritably, "…and I'm sure you'd make someone else a good wife too…"
"I though you'd be furious…" she mumbled, stunned at his lack of emotion.
"I am, but I'm too tired to shout right now…. And we're not at home…" he answered. "I don't want to see that Joey here anymore though…."
"He does bring in a lot of work…" she said softly.
"I'm sure he brings a lot to the table.." Clive replied acidly, "but not anymore… Unless you do want to change chambers?"
"It might be for the best…" Harriet whispered. "Will we be able to work together after this?"
"We might try…. We don't know what the future will hold, do we?"
Clive didn't tell her outright of his plans to visit Martha. Perhaps move to Bolton for all he cared… Or abduct her back to London… He could have rubbed it in, but that would happen all too soon anyway…
That Friday, only three days since he'd found her with Joey… he told her about his plans. He still couldn't look at the spot on the carpet where it had happened.
"Harry," he said, when she poured herself a glass of wine, unwinding from a full and horrifying week.
"Yes, Clive," she sounded tired and exasperated as she was fed up with fighting, worn out even. Despite his politeness at the office, they had done some shouting in the privacy of their own home. Accusations had been hurled like snowballs. Their marriage had been a sham, never the real deal…
Harriet had quite a few grievances herself. She'd asked him if he was sure when he'd proposed… She had sincerely hoped that he was the one… Privately, she wondered if she'd always loved him more than the other way around…
She had soon discovered that even with a ring on his finger, Clive didn't seem to belong to her…
"I've been thinking…" he began… "wondering if I should… go up North for a few days… Perhaps next weekend?"
"Doing what?" she asked, already guessing the answer.
"Visiting Martha…" he said, a little hesitant. "She hasn't heard about my heart problems yet and I wouldn't want her to find out via someone else…"
"There's no need to lie to me…" Harriet replied. "Just say what you think for once… We both already know the real reason…"
"Ok," he said, "fine… I want to see if… what I should have done years ago… If we're a good match…"
"Considering you haven't seen her in ages, and still whisper her name in hospitals first thing, I'd say your side is pretty clear…" Harriet took a large sip of wine. It was awful this… Him talking about her…
"Perhaps," he replied, smiling sadly, "but that doesn't say anything about her side…" He sighed deeply.
"I'm not… I'm not going to stop you…" Harriet whispered. "I don't think I can, even if I tried…" She began to sob.
"I've tried so hard…" she said, stammering. "My very best… and you… And then, I make one mistake…"
Clive awkwardly stroke her back. He couldn't really deal with tears, not from anyone. "I know… I know.. It's my fault too…" he said.
"And what if she doesn't want you?" Harriet wondered. "What then?"
"Even so…" he said softly, "clearly we're not meant to be…"
"We could have been…" she replied defiantly. "If only you'd really tried…"
"Harry," he said, slightly threatening, "there's no point going there… We've been over this…" Clive attempted to sound soothing, hiding his irritation.
"You want a divorce…" Harriet sighed, "and nothing I can say or do will change your mind…"
"Precisely… I'm sorry, but yes, that's where we're at…"
"I feel as if you're using it like an excuse…" she argued, "that you're using my cheating as an easy way out…"
"Of course not, don't be silly," he lied through his teeth. "Perhaps it was a bit of a catalyst, but we've both known things weren't right since that hospital business…"
Or even earlier, he thought. He never should have married her, that was for sure. She was quite entitled to feel upset and cheated as well. Cheated into thinking this, their marriage, was more than it actually was…
"It's like your punishing me…" Harriet continued, "making me pay…"
"I'm not… truly… Look, Harriet, I want this to be as amicable as possible. I'm not going to hurt your reputation and such… if you just grant me a divorce…"
"I can't persuade you…?" she pouted. "Is there really nothing I can do…?" She wondered if she should refer to some of their better experiences, make him see her side of things. "Not even.." she breathed suggestively.
"Harriet, no…" He spoke sternly. "Please, just leave me alone…" Clive hurried out of the living room to his study upstairs…
Why did she have to try? It only made things harder for the both of them…
Joey had taken to calling her. Harriet didn't want to be reminded of it, so she just didn't answer. It didn't really work, however…
"When are you going to get that?" Clive said, the following Tuesday evening. It was nearly a week later, give or take a few hours, when the sound of the ringing phone kept interfering their dinner.
They had called divorce lawyers and were discussing who should get what as far as furniture went. Harriet seemed to have, begrudgingly, accepted the inevitable. It was strange, still eating at the same dinner table, but not doing so seemed just as odd. They didn't have to avoid each other….and they had to learn how to relate differently to each other anyway…
"I don't want to get it…" she explained. "It's…"
"Joey?" he asked. Your own fault, he thought savagely.
"He thinks it meant more than it did…" Harriet said sadly. "Bit like you and me, really…"
Clive swallowed hard. That stung…
"You'll have to deal with it sometime…" he said. "Unless you want me to answer it…" he smirked nastily.
Harriet glared at him. "Thanks, but no thanks…" she sneered back. Both their tempers were not at their best as they clearly remembered last week's developments.
When it rang again, she left the table, answering the phone, "Yes, Joey…"
He immediately began to rant how it had taken him ages to speak to her and how he'd been told that he couldn't do business with Shoe Lane in the future…
Clive strained his ears in an attempt to listen in on the conversation.
"I think it's for the best…" he heard her say. "I am sorry."
Clive had expected to gloat at this particular call with his wounded pride enjoying every second of it. However, he felt strangely humbled. Harriet didn't seem to mind admitting her mistakes… He began to respect her a tad more; she dealt rather gracefully with the whole thing…
"Yes, perhaps I did use you…" she readily told him.
"Why? I…" she faltered. "I just wanted to feel loved again… to be seen, so you will… admired."
"Yes, I know I'm married. Maybe something was lacking… Yes… I am truly sorry…"
"No, we're getting a divorce… No, that doesn't mean…. I know, I shouldn't have led you on.. Bye Joey, take care…"
She sat down with a huge sigh of relief; her food had got cold. That hadn't been too bad, though admittedly not the best phone call of her life…
"Happy now?" she asked, quirking her eyebrows.
"That was… quite impressive…" He said, despite himself.
Harriet took it for sarcasm. "I know I'll never do anything right in your eyes anymore, Clive," she said, "no need to lay it on…"
"I wasn't… I actually meant it…" he explained. "It… well, it was gracefully done…"
"I don't know if that's really possible…" Harriet said, "I tried my best anyway…"
Clive nodded. She had.
"So what about that grandfather chair then?" he said, returning to the previous topic. "I know it's mine, but you seem to really like it…. I'll probably throw it away otherwise…"
It was Thursday evening. Clive would leave the next day. He and Harriet had mostly discussed practical things, but now… he felt as if he should say something… do something…
He rasped his throat… "So, tomorrow…"
Harriet cringed. She didn't need reminding.
"I suppose…" Clive was upset, but felt he had to say it anyway… "I just wanted to say… You've apologized for… what happened… and I feel that…. Well, I should be apologizing too."
Harriet's eyes grew wide. This was quite unexpected!
"I…" he faltered. "I knew beforehand…. I shouldn't have… taken it this far. I was angry that she'd left… and I did genuinely like you…. A part of me hoped that we would make it, but a part of me simply knew….that it might be impossible."
Clive took a deep breath. "So, I'm sorry. It wasn't just your fault… It's why… you know, when you wanted children…"
Harriet nodded solemnly; that had been the first clear indication that something wasn't right…
"I just couldn't let you go through with it…. And then you phoned your friend and…"
"You heard that?" she asked. "Wow… I didn't know.."
"That's when I knew…."
"Me too…" Harriet said. "I'd just been told… by John, maybe… I can't even remember… about the miscarriage and that you two had been dancing around each other for years… I knew in my heart it was a lost battle then…"
"And I confirmed it in the worst possible way…"
"I was so worried you were going to die or something… when I rushed to that hospital." Harriet remembered it like it was yesterday. "I felt so betrayed and hurt…"
"And then Joey appeared…" Clive understood only too well. It's what he had done whenever Martha rejected him, time and time again.
"He did want me… badly even…" Harriet replied. "I'm not proud of it…"
"Me neither…" he said. "Me neither…. It's why… I just want you to know… no hard feelings, yeah?"
She smiled at him. "Yes…."