Distraction

Chapter Twenty

On Wednesday, Libby almost skipped into the yard, planning to make a cup of tea before she fed the horses. What she hadn't planned on was World War III breaking out. Tallulah's screaming quietened to a low sobbing, but Libby approached the house with caution. Had Robbie denied Tallulah another pony, or was this about getting her ears pierced again?

In the kitchen, when Tallulah turned, her hands clenching and unclenching, Libby knew the tears and shouting weren't another petulant pre-teen demand.

'You were supposed to be my friend, you fucking whore.'

'Lulu,' Robbie snapped.

'Fuck off,' she spat back at him. 'You and mum were special. Now, you're just like everyone else, a fucking divorce statistic.'

Libby stared at Tallulah, unable to defend herself of her actions. 'I'm sorry.'

'I fucking hate both of you.' Tallulah ran out, slamming the door behind her.

Robbie stared at the door, his face emotionless. 'I think it's fair to say she's mastered the use of the word fucking.'

Libby slumped against the table. 'I'd never thought about Tallulah. How it'd affect her, what she'd think. Who told her?'

'You haven't seen it?' Robbie looked up to the ceiling, before pointing to the newspaper on the table. 'Christ, I'm sorry, Lib. It's worse than that.'

She picked up the paper, already open to page three. Lock Up Your Husbands. Two photos, side-by-side dominated the page. The first was of her and Robbie, kissing on the doorstep, the second was of Zoe and Greg in a similar pose. Worse still, was a blurry snap of Libby and Robbie arriving at the football with the kids, looking every bit the happy family. They'd even dragged out the photos of her with Andy and Xander. She didn't read the words.

How had everything gone so wrong with her life? Once, she had everything. Now, even her morals were unravelling. She'd had a one-night-stand and an affair with a married man. Thank god, her parents wouldn't find out.

'It's about now that people generally say, Olivia Wilde, you're fired.' She wrapped her arms around herself, her heart hammering. 'I'm so sorry.'

'What for? It's not your fault.' He sighed and after a glance to the living room, ensuring Matilda and Dora were still engrossed in cBeebies, he pulled Libby to him, hugging her. 'I'm the married one.'

'I'll keep an eye on them, if you want to go after Tallulah.'

'Why, so my eleven year-old daughter can tell me to fuck off again? I really ought to curb her language, but she got it all from me in the first place.' His arms tightened as he kissed her head. 'I'll give her ten minutes to calm down.'

'So should I go and never come back?'

'No,' he said, taking her face in his hands. 'Maybe this is for the best.'

'How?'

'What if this were a real relationship?'

Libby closed her eyes for a second, to compose her thoughts. She knew what he was getting at, what he'd hinted at several times. He wanted to know what would happen if Vanessa didn't come back.

'What if, Lib?'

'Look,' she said. 'Sometimes, a lot of the time, I daydream about what it'd be like if you were single and... didn't have kids.'

His face clouded over.

'Sorry,' she said, knowing the mere suggestion would make him feel sick. 'I love your life, the house, the yard, the horses, but it feels borrowed and I'm not sure if it'd ever feel like mine. You have three kids. She's their mother and... I'm not.'