Not Quite Perfect

‘But I’m so sorry Rachel, you were saying about moving away from your family. Are you very close?’

Rachel thinks for a moment. She adores her father, her mother interferes but means well, and Emma is, well, her baby sister.

‘We’re as close as any family and I just don’t really want my kids missing out on the chance of those relationships.’

Sue has regained her composure. ‘What does Steve say?’

‘Well, he, erm,’ Rachel says, ‘actually, I don’t know. I kind of shouted him down and didn’t really ask him.’

‘Sorry, dear friend, I’m as ready as the next militant feminist to blame men for everything from global warming to why the plughole’s always full of hair, but even I think you need to talk this one through properly.’

‘I know, I know. You’re right. What would you do then, oh wise and rational one? Would you up sticks and go?’

‘No comparison, my friend. The family is all tucked up safe and sound in the North. I’d probably jump at the chance to be honest. I mean, London’s all right, but this south-east corner isn’t exactly Hampstead and you don’t really get the benefit of living in the big smoke with kids. I mean, when was the last time you went to the cinema or a gig?’

‘2003. Duran Duran reunion gig. Bloody fantastic. Anyway, I grew up round here and it’s not that bad. I bet more people get mugged in Hampstead.’

‘Maybe. I just don’t know if I want Joe to be a teenager around here. All those knives and gangs. I say think about it. Rationally,’ says Sue with a grin.

‘You’re supposed to tell me to stay,’ says Rachel crestfallen.

‘Rach, you know I’ll probably just take the kids to the pub and the bookies if you ever leave us, but all I’m saying is think about it.’

Christa is looking wistful. ‘It must be nice to have a husband who is there and who values your opinion. My Rudi is never here.’

‘He works for a drinks company, doesn’t he?’

‘Ja, he is Russian and spends a lot of time in Moscow. I think he has a mistress.’

‘Christa, that’s terrible!’

‘Ja, but I have my boy and Rudi would never forget his responsibility to his boy.’ She ruffles Roger’s ginger mop of hair.

‘Now, let’s have another coffee and perhaps some kuchen? My treat,’ Christa smiles broadly as if she has just given them details of a lovely holiday rather than a life in turmoil.

‘That poor woman,’ whispers Rachel while Christa is ordering for them.

‘I know. Fancy have a mum with a willy, called Willy!’

Rachel explodes with laughter. ‘Susan, you are going straight to hell!’

‘Yeah, baby and you’re right behind me!’

Chapter 4

Rachel stacks the plates from lunch into the dishwasher and listens, enjoying the sweet sound of silent children enjoying the chaotic capers of a talking dog and his hippy friends. Will has declared Scooby Doo to be a ‘baby’s programme’, but Rachel has noticed how he grasps one of Lily’s hands when the janitor dressed up as a ghost tries to spook the characters. She looks in on them now; three perfect forms with wide eyes and open mouths, rapt in a state of unbridled joy at the action playing out on screen, barely aware of her presence. Lily glances round.

‘Look, Mummy, Scooby’s going to have another snack!’

‘Oh my goodness! Is he? I bet that’s his third or fourth so far!’ says Rachel.

‘Fifth actually, Mum,’ corrects Will, ever hot on his facts.

‘Well enjoy, my darlings; Mummy is just going to do something on the computer.’

‘Can Alfie look too?’ asks Alfie, his eyes not leaving the screen.

‘In a bit darling, you watch Scooby with Lils and Will.’

Rachel takes her chance and sneaks away, tragically excited about a few precious moments away from motherhood, even if it’s just to pay some bills. She feels a mild thrill as the computer starts up and she connects to the internet, her mind filling with expectation at what she might find. It reaffirms that there is still a world out there, even if she often feels disconnected from it. It seems ridiculous that her house is filled with chaos and yet she feels so lonely and detached from it, like a character watching life play out before her. Rachel stares at the glowing screen, its possibilities welcoming her, inviting her in: Do you feel lucky? Just click here, madam. Not sure what you’re after? Just punch in a couple of words and we’ll do the rest.

She is methodical however and goes straight to her e-mails. She sends her sister a message asking about the book pitch and gets a response almost immediately: ‘Cock-up of the century. Too depressed to speak. Have just eaten my own body weight in cheesecake. How’s Alf?’

Rachel grins. She considers telling Emma about the possible move to Scotland but can’t face it. Instead she writes, ‘No lasting damage. Never mind about the book – bet it was a pile of crap anyway. Let’s go and drown our sorrows soon. R x’

‘Ok. Speak soon. Big hugs to you all. E x’

Rachel looks around her, trying desperately to remember what she is supposed to be doing on the internet. She finds her brain increasingly unable to retain this kind of information, like some kind of leaky bottle. The other day, she had stood in front of the fridge for a good five minutes before she remembered that she was looking for the cheese.

She glances to her right and notices that Steve has left his BlackBerry at home. She looks back at the screen trying to ignore the urge that is starting to overwhelm her. She looks back at Steve’s phone. Its blue flashing light seems to tempt and console her at the same time: Go on, have a look. No one will ever know. It’s not as if you’re going to find anything incriminating anyway.

Rachel shakes her head and turns back to the computer, desperately trying to remember what she was going to search for.

‘Oh bollocks!’ she mutters grabbing Steve’s phone and clicking it into life. She’s not sure why she’s looking or what she’s looking for, but almost without knowing it, she finds herself looking at Steve’s e-mails. One is from someone called Sam and is entitled ‘Coffee’.

Hmm, thinks Rachel, never heard of Sam before. She clicks on the message feeling a bit sordid for checking up on her husband.

Hi Steve, are you still OK for coffee at 11 today? Need to talk about rolling out training on new IT system to your team. Thanks, Sam.

Rachel sighs, feeling guilty for even suspecting infidelity when all Steve is doing is having coffee with some geeky bloke from IT. Suddenly, her eye is caught by an e-mail entitled ‘Edinburgh’ and she has clicked on it before she’s had the chance to question her actions. The message, from Steve’s boss, Doug details, ‘our discussions regarding a possible move to start up a new office’ and was sent a month ago. Rachel is outraged. She reaches for her mobile and punches buttons until she finds Steve’s office number. It clicks straight through to his voicemail. Rachel flings the phone across the room with a growl of anger. Her heart is pounding and she has scared herself by flying off the handle so readily.

‘Mum?’ Lily appears at the door looking concerned, but not surprised by her mother’s outburst

Rachel is caught off guard. ‘Darling, sorry, Mummy was just –’

‘When’s Daddy coming home?’ asks Lily interrupting her.

Rachel is irritated by the question. ‘No bloody idea,’ she says.

Lily looks unimpressed. ‘Don’t swear, Mummy. It’s rude.’

Rachel watches her go, amazed that this bundle of morality is her child. Her mobile chirps into life and she sees the caller ID. She stabs the button and thrusts the handset to her ear, ready for a fight,

‘Rach? Everything OK?’

Steve’s calm voice seems to fuel her anger. ‘No Steve, everything is not OK. Tell me, when exactly did you know about this move to Edinburgh?’

‘Rach, can we talk about this later?’