Chapter Three
As it was Friday tomorrow and with no work in the morning for me, Marc and myself stayed in the pub for the rest of the evening, eventually getting kicked out at closing time despite Marc's drunken insistent to the bar staff that he wanted to partake in their 'lock in'. I managed to wrangle him in the direction of the train station, luckily it was only a ten minute walk away and on my way home. The cooler night air, and a plate of nachos we'd shared before kick out was helping to sober us both up.
"We've got this all backwards" Marc said, hands fisted inside his trousers pockets, work satchel slung over his shoulder.
"What do you mean?" I replied, linking my arm through his to keep him from veering into the road and an oncoming car.
"Shouldn't it be me walking you home, not you walking me to the station." He pouted his bottom lip out. I couldn't help but laugh, the drinks relaxing my mood and seeing this side of Marc. He'd vehemently deny it at work, but depending on the number of drinks, he regressed into a teenager or toddler when drunk. It happened all too rarely these days so I was enjoying it while it lasted.
"It's fine, I won't tell anyone, your masculinity will remain intact." I grinned. I was still riding my giddy wave from my early decision and found my mood playful. I was in that bizarre state of relaxed from the drink, but energised. I felt I could go for a run right now. I snorted at the thought, I'd probably break my leg before we got to the station.
"What you giggling for woman?" Marc squeezed my looped arm, grinning down at me.
"Nothing much, I just feel like I could run, ya know. Would kill me self doing it so best not" I snorted again, and Marc laughed with me.
"Yeah, know what you mean. Kinda liberating when you take control of your life like that." He pinned me with a knowing gaze. I'd forgotten, even though drunk his mind was still perceptive. I hmm'd in agreement. In the spirit of this evening's honesty, I opened my fears a little to Marc.
"I feel like I'm going to pay for this all tomorrow, you know, panic attack waiting to happen." I joked, but saying the words out loud made my relaxed state dissipate and my shoulders tense.
"Well, I'll say it anyway. Don't panic. Call me if you need to talk about anything, that includes the issues with Richard OK?" He squeezed my arm again before continuing. "I know I can't stop you from worrying, but remember, this new job, and the move, think of it as a logistical challenge, no different from the hundreds of problems you've sorted at work in the past. Do one of your lists if it makes you feel better and in control. I know you love ticking shit off lists. I promise you once we start the process on Monday with HR you'll feel much better. It's the waiting that's going to drive you potty. Try doing something productive over the weekend to keep your focus."
He's words put a lid on my slowly rising panic. I was incredibly grateful we were doing this together. I knew logically I could do this on my own, but knowing Marc was there, kind of like a safety net, was giving me the confidence I lacked. I frowned at that. I never thought myself lacking in confidence before, when did I become so… clingy... and unsure of myself? I gave myself a mental shake. I had made my choice, I was going to see it through.
With those words in my mind we finally made it to the station.
"Lucky, you haven't missed the last train, otherwise you'd be walking home mister." I unlooped my arm and gave Marc a playful jab in the ribs. I swear he almost squealed like a girl as he hopped away out of reach. The unexpected reaction had me double over in laughter, I think I underestimated how much I'd drunk.
"If I had I'd just follow you home and crash at yours." He pouted again, rubbing his side. He hadn't crashed at ours, mine, for some years.
"Well you could but the place is a mess." I groaned realising that I'd left all the washed bedding from my early cleaning spree out on the line in the garden. It was nearly half eleven at this point. By the time I got home and sorted it all out, it would be gone midnight if I was lucky. Thankfully it hadn't rained today. I dug my phone out of my pocket to check a weather app to see if I could risk it staying out overnight. I'd sleep under a throw tonight if needed, I was feeling lazy.
"Well crap, it's meant to rain, I need to get my washing in." Marc laughed at me, having been given a brief rundown of my cleaning spree during our fifth (or sixth) beer.
"Yeah, I'd rather walk home that get roped into your housework. I'd never hear the end of it if I didn't fold your fitted sheets properly." He leapt away before I could punch his arm, laughing, before colliding with the ticket barrier. It was my turn to laugh now as he whined out an 'ouch' rubbing his hip.
"Only 'cause you live in a hovel." It'd been a few years since I've last been to Marc's place, I still shudder at the sight of the unwashed, molding plates I saw in his sink once. He had claimed he just hadn't had time the night before. Yeah no. Mold doesn't grow that fast.
"You should come round sometime, it's been a while." The words were out of my mouth before I could think on them. It was true, back in the early days we were the typical young professionals, working hard, playing harder. There were many a time we'd both rocked up to work the following day a little worse for wear. How had we fallen out of that part of our friendship I'd never know.
"Yeah, sounds good. Let me know tomorrow or Sunday, or we'll catch up at work Monday. Might be best if we do it before Richard gets back though eh?" He's tone turned serious at the end, and I had a bolt of clarity hit me. We'd stopped this all when Richard came into my life. Jesus, I was a flaky friend.
"Sure." I turned at the sound of an approaching train. "Er, isn't that your train?" I pointed at Marc.
"Fuck!" He ungracefully vaulted the ticket barrier and I shook my head wondering why he didn't just use his ticket. "Catch you later Kate!" He yelled back over his shoulder, over the increasing noise of the train. I watched until he was on, and it pulled out of the station before setting off back home. I felt much better after our talks and my previous feeling of relaxed drunkenness was mostly gone, but the excitement still remained. Taking a look around me, seeing no one around, I readjusted my bag on my back and took off at a slight jog. My grin widened and I increased my pace to an all out run, giggling like a crazy person. Marc was right. This was liberating.
I made it to my street and slowed down to a walk. I wasn't keen on my neighbours thinking I was a complete loon, but mainly as I was out of breath and the nachos were threatening to make a reappearance. As I walked up to my house, I stopped by the front gate and gave it a good look. It was your typical outer London terraced house, painted cream, contrasting with next door's exposed brickwood. My window planters were looking a bit worse for wear and I made a mental note to get some new plants in there for the summer. The light in the porch still needed replacing, something I'd nagged Richard to sort months ago. I suppose I could get my Dad round with his ladder to help me replace it. The little concrete path from the gate to the porch could do with a sweep, but otherwise, it was all pretty neat and tidy.
I realised I was already looking at sorting stuff out to get the house on the market. I doubted Richard had enough money to buy my share out, and likewise myself. I would need to speak to my Dad about it all, and Richard's Mum. Carol was nice enough, I'd probably get some kind of support from her seeing as Rich's Dad left her for another woman. Ha, like father like son I guessed. Either way, I was already checking out from this relationship, and it scared me how quickly I wanted to cut all ties now I had made my decision. Maybe Marc was right, the job was a silver lining.
I finally made it inside and proceeded to put most of the house back together and just after twelve thirty I flopped into bed in the spare room. I grabbed my phone on the side table to set an alarm for tomorrow. I wanted enough time in the day to start sorting out the house and see if I could meet up with my Dad. I noticed I had a text from Marc, wishing me goodnight. I replied, letting him know I was home safe and I'd speak to him soon. I shut off the side light and huffed out a long sigh into the dark. I mulled over the past few days, wondering what deity I'd pissed off to have my life upended so quickly and dramatically. I fell asleep dreaming of people coming to view the house and I was running around in my underwear trying to hide moldy pots and pans in various places whilst bed sheets were draped everywhere.
Saturday morning made its appearance with a heavy rain shower that quickly fled to bright sunshine which was panned to remain until Monday. After a hasty breakfast of painkillers, water and dry toast I called my Dad. He had taken early retirement from the Army some years back, due to injury, so was pretty flexible for popping over for a visit. I bribed him with promise of borrowing Richard's more expensive tools which he'd asked for on Thursday, as well as lunch out. We said our goodbyes until eleven, which gave me a couple of hours to clean up and dig out the household paperwork. I know Marc and HR were going to help with this, but I felt more grounded if I felt like I was doing something productive.
Just before eleven, the doorbell rang, and Dad let himself in with the spare key.
"Hey Kate! Where are you Poppet?" I smiled at the endearment from my Dad. I was 27 going on 5 when he really got going.
"Front room Dad!" I got up from kneeling in front of the coffee table where I had all the house stuff laid out.
He just popped his head in the doorway as I stood, and I walked over for a kiss on the cheek. "Tea or coffee?"
"Tea please, the good stuff I know you hide under the sink. Not that piss water your man drinks." I laughed and made my way past him into the kitchen to grab said tea under aforementioned sink. I didn't drink a lot of tea, my Dad therefore repeatedly questioning if I was his kid, or if I was really British. I would imagine I would have been disowned if I didn't drink it at all. The man was a walking cliché of Britishness.
As I set the tea caddy on the work top and flicked on the kettle, my Dad walked into the kitchen and propped himself against the kitchen island.
"What's with all the paperwork in the living room? You planning to remortgage already? I can get Barry to take a look if you like?" He was never one to miss a trick my Dad.
"No, not exactly. Have a seat, I do need to speak to you about something, and it might take awhile."
He pulled out a stool and sat as I finished making the tea, snagging a pack of chocolate biscuits from a cupboard on my way over. I'd barely set them down before Dad had the pack open and had dunked one in his cup.
"Come on Kate, talk. I can see you're winding up for something. Spit it out." The biscuit disappeared into his mouth as I wrapped my hands around my own mug. I took a deep breath.
"I've been made an offer at work to take a new job over in the States, I'm going to tell them on Monday that I accept it. I was going to speak to Rich about it, but I came home to find him with another woman, and now he's off in Brussels until Wednesday so I haven't been able to speak to him, but I decided to take the job anyway, so I need to look at my options with the house. We'd probably have to sell it as neither of us can afford to buy the other out, and then I need to officially break up with Richard too."
I took a swig of tea whilst I let my Dad process that. He dunked the remaining half of his biscuit and chewed it slowly.
"So, he cheated on you?"
"Yeah." I tightened my grip on my mug and my gaze dropped to the worktop. I knew it wasn't my fault, but an odd sense of shame washed over me in that moment, like I wasn't good enough. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks.
"And you've been offered a new job at work, in America, which you've accepted. How long for?"
"Yes. Minimum a year, but could go longer."
"But you haven't had a chance to talk to Richard yet, as he's out the country until Wednesday."
"Yup."
"But you've decided to end it with him anyway, and are looking at your options with the house."
"Yes." He was quiet for a bit before…
"Are you sure you're not just taking this job to get away from Richard? It seems a bit of an extreme reaction don't you think?"
I suppose it could be seem like that.
"The job offer was made before I found Richard… you know" I grimaced at the memory "he kinda forced my hand, but it's not the only reason I'm accepting it." I didn't want to get into the ultimatum work forced upon me, it was all wrong, probably illegal but as I was accepting I didn't want to dwell on that part anymore. I hoped Dad wouldn't pry.
"Ok." He was silent through another biscuit. I let him have his moment, I was kind of surprised he hadn't offered to bump Richard off-
"I've still got contacts in the Forces. Just say the word and Richard is no more."
"Dad!" I cried. "Violence is not the answer!" He laughed at me.
"I'm joking pumpkin. But if you change your mind, just say the word." I wasn't entirely sure if he was serious or not, he had an excellent poker face.
"If I do see him, I will give him a piece of my mind however. No one hurts my little girl like that." Dad's normally jovial face was replaced by anger. "I never liked the bloke. I never said anything as it wasn't my business. You're an adult and old enough and ugly enough to make your own decisions."
I rolled my eyes, and stood to take our empty mugs to the sink. "It doesn't mean you can't offer your opinion, you know. I'll take it with a grain of salt."
"You're my child. It's like you are genetically programed to disagree with me, even on a subconscious level you might not realise it." He munched on another biscuit looking smug at this sudden insight. I frowned at him, and grabbed the remaining biscuits from his reach.
"What makes you say that, I've never disagreed with you just for the sake of it." At least I couldn't remember doing so.
"When I mentioned going to university and got you all those brochures. Even though they were based on your core subjects, and good universities I might add, as soon as I gave them to you, you immediately changed your mind and went for that apprentice course."
I frowned further. "That wasn't because you gave me that info. The course was too good to miss. University isn't the be all and end all-"
"How about your first car? I found that lovely little Metro, cracking little car for your first one. But, no, as soon as I showed it to you, you magically found that VW Polo, which, may I just add, was a complete shitter."
That wasn't...entirely… true. "I was 17 Dad, the Metro wasn't the coolest ride at the time. The Polo had a little more street cred." It was a lame excuse looking back, but of the utmost importance back in the day.
"Yeah, and a little more rust, and engine trouble. How long did it last?" Mr. Smug was back.
"Three months. It wasn't my fault the cambelt went." I sulked.
"How about your first job when doing your A levels? I got you a nice little position with an old Army bud of mine, but you chose that dodgy off license that got raided by the old Bill before it got shut down."
Ok, I got the picture. Apparently I was deliberately difficult with my Dad when younger. I thought I was pretty accommodating, Rich never complained and I said so.
"Yeah, people would say you've mellowed in old age" I tisked at the age comment and got a shit eating grin from my Dad "but I don't think so."
His voice lost its amused tone. "I think you changed for Richard. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but it was a big change for you when we were all so used to your fiery personally, it was a bit of a shock" He shrugged and poked at some crumbles in front of him. I leant against the sink to watch him.
"I think it would shock your Mum if she were still alive to see how much you have changed. And for a boy off all things! I still remember when boys were icky." Funny Dad was back now and I smiled at him.
"Well, I guess we'll see what happens now." My mood darkened with the thought I'd changed into some doormat. "I'm not sure if Barry can help if we're looking to sell completely."
"He will, if not he can get you in touch with someone good, a lawyer. I trust him. Do you not need to speak to Richard before this?"
I sighed "Normally I would, but I'm on a deadline with work to accept this offer, and roughly a month before I leave for the States. I also want to make sure he doesn't blindside me with some shit which fucks me over in the long run with the house sale, you know?"
Richard had completely lost my trust and even the previous years together were now stained with his cheating. I couldn't help but look at every scenario, every trip away and see them in a new light. He had always been a tightwad with money too when it came to anything not solely for himself, and it wouldn't surprise me if he worked this all to his financial advantage, because, screw you Kate, that's why.
"We'll have to talk when he gets back, but I want to be prepared." I scrubbed my hand down my face, knowing the practicalities of untangling our lives was only part of the conversation to have. I would have to brace myself in the coming days to steel myself against Richard's emotional barrage. I just knew he wasn't just going to roll over and let us go our separate ways that easily.
"Well if you need me here for you kiddo, just say. I'm sure I can borrow a service rifle from a friend of a friend if you need me to glare at him from a corner or something."
I smiled at the thought. "Thanks Dad, unnecessary, but appreciated."
He pouted slightly. "You're no fun. Come on, lets go. I was promised lunch and power tools, and I intend to collect on both."
I pushed off from the sink and he followed me to the hallway so I could grab my bag and keys. Twenty minutes later we found ourselves at the Red Lion. Dad went to find a seat whilst I went to the bar to order drinks and food. I didn't even bother looking at the menu, I knew what both myself and Dad wanted. Huh, I guess I knew where I got that from.
The rest of my afternoon was spent in pleasant parental company as after lunch we went back to my place and went through the house and bank paperwork. As sad as it was, Dad's experience of dealing with Mum's estate after her death proved helpful as he pointed out a number of things we needed to deal with that hadn't even crossed my mind. I retrieved my notepad again and jotted down everything Dad was saying. I would compare to the list HR would give me, and run it by Marc and hopefully at the end of all this would have a comprehensive list of stuff I needed to deal with.
"You know, when you've finished this work assignment, you are more than welcome to come back and live with me." Dad interrupted my list taking.
"Are you sure? I don't want to put you out, or cramp your style." He chuckled and went to ruffle my hair, but I dodged his hand.
"I wouldn't offer if I didn't mind. It won't be forever anyway, just so you can get your own place and not have to worry about all that before you get back. I can't be easy to find somewhere here if you are in the middle of packing up your life over there."
"Oh wow. Thanks Dad, that would be really great. I kinda forget that I'd have to do all this again to come back." I chewed my thumbnail at that thought. Jesus, I best not get too tied down over there.
Dad made his excuses just before six that evening, but not before raiding Richard's power tool stash in the garden shed. I don't think he ever used them anyway, so they wouldn't be missed. I did however make my Dad promise to return them as I wouldn't put it past him to 'forget' to bring them back. I used to think it was just tool envy, but I was starting to think it was Dad's dislike of Richard that motivated his petty thief over the years.
After waving Dad off, I turned back to the kitchen to start on dinner. Still feeling full from lunch, I opted for scrambled eggs on toast. I would have to do a food shop tomorrow if I wanted to eat the following week. I found myself not particularly wanting to commit to the simple task. I eyeballed the shopping list on the front of the fridge, noting the stuff Richard had added. The little ball of rage flared up and in a fit of pique I tore the list off and made a new one, removing all his stuff and adding more bits that I wanted that Rich usually moan at getting. Fuck it, if I want branded dish soap, I was getting branded dish soap, and not the shop version. It was petty in the extreme, but hell if it didn't make me feel better and I giggled at myself as I moved to the living room to watch some trash TV. Another thing Richard mocked me for. Well screw him, I'm watching Sharknado out of sheer principle.
An hour later, Sharknado forgotten in the background I found myself reading through the offer package and Tribal information again. Trusty notepad in hand I flipped to a new page and fished my laptop from under the paperwork on the coffee. I started to research the State of Washington, working my down to the local area. Weather wise, it was on par with the UK, maybe a little more rain, but at least I wouldn't have to buy a whole new wardrobe. I jotted down a note to ask HR about medical issues; would they register me with a doctor over there, or would it be something I needed to do myself? The thought of how to renew my pill prescription lead me onto toiletries and then back to clothes. Having nothing better to do with my evening I took my laptop and pad upstairs to take a look at my options. What started as a simple mental check, turned into a mass exodus of my wears leaving me with two full bin bags of charity donations. My underwear draw ranged for the sexy-but-hardly-worn lingerie to the comfortable everyday stuff which was looking a little tired. I ripped a fresh page from my pad and started a clothing list, adding some new footwear and bigger suitcases too. At this rate I would probably have to borrow my Dad's car to bring everything home.
I Googled relocation to the States and spent the rest of the night making notes, and marking questions. By 10pm I was on overload so decided to call it a night. Thinking over the previous days, I debated seeing Marc was around tomorrow, but ultimately decided to be a responsible adult and actually do a food shop, otherwise I'd be living off take out and spending a fortune doing so. I sent a text to Marc, letting him I would see him Monday, and then another to my Dad asking to borrow his car tomorrow. He text back within minutes agreeing as long as he could 'borrow' Richard's angle grinder. I rolled my eyes, but agreed. Not like Richard had ever used it.
My Sunday was fully packed with shopping, shopping and more shopping. With the use of my Dad's car I made a list of other things I needed to do that were easier to do with a vehicle at my disposal, and added a trip to a garden centre to get some plants and compost for the window boxes. Feeling more centered and in control I made my way to bed, still in the spare room.