Page 90 of The Last Train Home
‘Only one week.’
‘But your companygivesyou another week as well.’
‘It’s not good form to take it, though.’
My mouth drops again. ‘But you’d take it if we were in Singapore.’
He frowns. ‘I’m not sure I would.’
‘So you weren’t going to spend the first fortnight of being a new parent actually being a parent?’
‘Don’t put it like that,’ he snaps.
I drink one of my orange juices, thinking.What’s happening here? If we’re like this now, how will it be after the baby is born?
We haven’t reached a conclusion to this. I have no idea if Sean’s going to fly over; he doesn’t seem to respect my decision about giving birth, and he gets two weeks’ paternity leave, so what’s the big problem? I don’t want to give birth in Singapore at all now, if he’s not even going to take his paternity leave. This changes everything. Even if Natasha wasn’t getting married, I don’t want to do this alone. My mum and dad are in the UK, my best friend is in the UK. I’ll be alone in Singapore. For the first two weeks of being a mum, when I’m finding my feet, no idea what I’mdoing, Sean’s not even going to be with me. Is that what he’s saying?
I don’t know what to do with this information. I can’t leave it there. We have to talk about this again another day. There’s plenty of time to discuss it before July, plenty of time.
But I hate that we’ve argued about this. I hate that we’ve argued at all.
Chapter 57
Tom
February 2010
I’ve started investing in the stock market from home. I started with my own money, what little of it I had left out of my savings, and then Andy wanted a piece of the action when I confessed I was finally starting to make quite a profit. Not millionaire-worthy, but quite a tidy sum, given how poor I’ve been this past year, running my meagre savings down and living off Samantha’s benevolence so that Teddy could have basics like food and new shoes.
I said no to investing Andy’s money, at first, not wanting to put his finances at risk as well as mine, but he’s a persuasive sod.
I don’t touch Samantha’s money. That’s for Teddy and the house, to keep a roof over his head. I was beholden to my wife for well over a year and we’re not even together any more. It’s far too embarrassing. Andy thinks it’s great. He wishes he’d managed to get his ex, Annabel, to fund him and Oliver living what he callsthe high lifewhile the divorce went through. Maybe Samantha’s not as bad as all that after all, because I never asked her for it. She just offered.
I’ve had to make that money go a long way, though. But now, with the investments in stocks and shares I’ve been making, it’s actually paying off quite well, so I don’t have to make what I call ‘Samantha’s handouts’ go quite so far. I hope I can ditch them entirely soon, regain a bit of self-respect. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. I’m only reinvesting half of what I make each time and then banking the rest, for both Andy and me, so we’re never down on our original investment. It’s bloody nail-biting stuff. I work most of the day on my investment portfolio, and prep something on the hob or slow cooker for Teddy and me to eat when he finishes pre-school.
I’d had no idea about slow cookers. You basically just shove all the ingredients in and turn it on. That’s it. Why did no one tell me about this years ago?
Andy knocks at the door with Oliver for a playdate. The boys disappear upstairs and start playing with all Teddy’s plastic tat immediately, and Andy and I pop open a few beers and chew the cud. He’s impressed that I’m cooking.
‘Still don’t know how to use the oven, then?’ he asks, clocking the slow cooker.
I look at the oven and all its sleek dials. ‘No idea,’ I say. ‘Way too complicated. It came with the house when we bought it. If I’d had my way, the instruction manual would still be inside it. Samantha cooked most nights, moaned incessantly about it, but she knew I was a lost cause. Cooking was the one job in this house I didn’t do, so it was fair she stepped up and did something.’
‘I think that’s probably the worst thing you’ve ever said about her.’
‘Really? I shouldn’t be too nasty about the mother of my child.’
I look around at how we live now, Teddy and me. Samantha’s dusty collection of Jamie Oliver cookbooks is long gone. She took everything, and it’s nice, actually, her not being here any more. She was never very present anyway, but I’ve got more room for my computer games, now her books aren’t on the shelves. Teddy’s toys have filtered down here as well, and we bundle them into the space where Samantha’s collection of legal journals used to live. It means he plays downstairs a lot more with me, instead of being banished upstairs. We live differently now, Teddy and I. It’s kind of great.
‘You never say anything bad about her actually,’ Andy points out. ‘And seeing how she cheated on you, you’re well within your rights to.’
I shrug, take the lid off the slow cooker and peer inside. ‘We have to talk all the time about Teddy, so there’s no point every conversation being some shitty accusation about neglect, on both our sides.’
‘You’re being more mature than I was,’ he admits.
I look from the slow cooker to Andy, echoing the sentiment that someone I still care about said to me years ago. ‘It was probably about time I grew up.’
‘It’sPeppa PigmeetsSouth Park, but not as gross.’ Andy’s leaning across the table, sketching something out in one of Teddy’s drawing books. ‘The kind of cartoon kids will love; funny, though, and true to life. Parents will snigger at it. It’s the kind of cartoon they’ll leave running in the background after the kids have gone to bed, rather than switch channels.’ I’m listening as Andy outlines his grand plans to scupperPeppa Pig’s impending world domination. ‘It’s about two single dads and their sons.’
