I’m happy when all is well in my world, but the minute life throws me a curved ball, if I’m stressed, or my equilibrium is threatened in any way I panic and convince myself it’s all going to go wrong. I have to take control the only way I know. When I got my first job. Met Jimmy. When he proposed. Planning the wedding.
The only time I didn’t succumb is when I had the kids because that was a good time and I put them before me, and I always will. My family is my life.
Anyway, back to Robin and Eddie. When there were homecomings, I’d endure my mum, and spend time at the vicarage playing let’s pretend because I felt I owed Willow and Robin that. And then there was the trouble with Cris, and once again I saw the face of the devil reflected in Edmund’s and the urge to set Robin free was immense.
All I had to do was speak up, let that cat out of the bag. I was too scared, in case it was the wrong thing to do, and I made it all worse. Instead, I used my hate for Eddie as another form of stubborn control and clung on so hard to my secret about him, about me. I also clung to my faith because I refused to let him take that from me again, ever.
I kept quiet and Willow was allowed to love her dad like she’d always done but my heart hurt for Robin because she was stuck in a sham marriage. I could see that then and I still can now – more than ever since Willow’s tragedy.
And now, just when I thought life couldn’t get any better, this awful virus is sweeping across the world. But it’s not that I really fear. It’s the thought of losing Jimmy. A face from the past has come back to haunt me and now it’s like that perfect mind-fuck shitstorm is hovering offshore and when it hits, it’ll swallow me whole and I can’t bear it.
And that’s why I’ve begun to take control and Jimmy has noticed, he always does. That’s another reason why I love him so much.
I was his world, he said it in our vows, and he is mine, my everything. It is also why I’m going to embrace being shut in this house. Lockdown has given me double control and will, for a while, enable me to keep him away from her, Bella Young. She’s not going to ruin things for me. She will not take my husband. She will not separate a father from his children and if she thinks she can, she is wrong.
And as God and my mate Jesus are my witnesses, if she tries, I will make her sorry.
CHAPTERNINE
BABS
I am absoluuuutely fuming!I mean the cheek of it. And as for Pete, he is well and truly in the doghouse. But what’s new? Him siding with our Isaac. I couldn’t believe it when I walked in last night and saw the leopard print suitcase at the bottom of the stairs and Fiona sitting at the kitchen table painting her nails.
I knew without even having to ask what was going on, but I did anyway, just for the hell of it.
‘Is that your suitcase in the hall?’
She looked up and gave me a nervous smile. ‘Yes, but I left it there until you came home because I insisted we check with you first, that it was okay even though Pete said you won’t mind.’
I played dim. ‘Check what’s okay… are you both going on holiday? Because I think you’re going to be disappointed. And even if you could jet off, you don’t actually need my permission for a jolly, seeing as Isaac’s supposed to be an adult even if he doesn’t act like one.’
She had the grace to blush at this point and as her eyes searched along the hallway Fiona was saved by a thudding on the stairs that heralded the appearance of daft-and-stupid in the flesh. My man-child, Isaac.
‘Ah, Mum, you’re back. We wondered where you’d got to. Has Fi told you she’s moving in? It’s the sensible option, otherwise we won’t be able to see each other. It’s okay, isn’t it? Dad said it would be.’ Then a glance at my shopping bag. ‘Ooh, pizza. Nice. I’m starving.’
I watched, gobsmacked as he began to unload my bag-for-life and that cheeky mare got up and put the oven on. My oven, in my kitchen. Well, I was furious, and I wasn’t going to be walked over like that. I knew it was a done deal and she’d be staying because I really couldn’t be arsed with the drama of booting her out. Then again, I wasn’t going to take the intrusion lying down.
‘Er, excuse me, but why can’t you go and stay at Fiona’s house?’ I refuse to say Fi because it’s annoying, like her.
Isaac paused, mid-rip of the plastic that covered the spicy chicken pizza. ‘Fi’s mum and dad are properly isolating because of their health issues and it’s too dangerous, you know, if me and Fi keep coming and going. We could infect them. So it’s best we stay here, in this bubble.’
‘What health issues?’ I turned my attention to Fiona who was getting plates out of my cupboards. ‘I didn’t know your mum and dad were poorly.’
She didn’t miss a beat and delivered her lines deadpan. ‘Oh, yes. My dad has angina and Mum has anxiety issues so they both struggle. I’m sure I told you. Anyway, having a houseful will only make them worse so it’s best we stay here.’
I looked from one to the other. ‘Have you both lost your minds? A houseful! It’s not like this is a bloody mansion you know! There’s loads more room at yours. You even have a conservatoryanda downstairs loo.’
At this Isaac had the cheek to laugh and directed his next quip at Fiona. ‘Oh, oh. Here we go, Mum’s going to remind us that Dad’s never built her a conservatory.’
I ignored Isaac, not wanting to remove the head of my eldest child in front of a witness and before tea, so focused on Fiona. ‘And I’m sorry, but I don’t think “anxiety” and “angina” are up there on the danger list for people who should totally isolate.’
‘I know, but it’s already affecting them both, the stress of what’s on telly. Dad’s been having chest pain and Mum’s staying in bed because she’s scared…’
Her voice trailed off to a whisper and I noticed the lip wobble. That was all I needed. Crocodile tears. Placing the plates on the table, she let out a big sigh. At this point I had to force my eyes to not roll into the back of my head as I listened to Fiona fake it. Her voice was wobbly, and so, so sad.
‘Your mum’s right, Zac. It’s too much of a squash here and I can tell she’s not keen, so I’ll get my case and go… I don’t want to be in the way.’
It really annoys me that she calls him Zac. His name is Isaac. Regardless of my very sensible point, daft-and-stupid took Fiona’s bait. ‘Mum, tell Fi she’s welcome. Fi, Mumdoeswant you to stay, don’t you, Mum?’
