Diary of a Desperate Wife and Mother - aged 35...and a half

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Sunday

Victoria's Diary aged 35 and a Half

It's Sunday, again, where has the week gone, the week and the weekend? I bloody hate the phrase 'Sunday is a day of rest'. It might be for some, but not me. I have even been coerced into going to church again, by my mother and my priest. Father Joe text me last night to check if I was coming to mass. I mean who does that? Although, who, except me has their priest texting them anyway? So, I am going to mass with my Mum, who is thrilled about it. She has church friends and she kind of knows everyone who goes to church but she likes to have a family member with her, especially as so many of her church friends attend alone or with their husbands. My Dad isn't really into church and none of my brothers are fussed so it's mainly me and Finn that are likely to go to church with her and I think she is proud to show her friends that we still have faith. Finn is coming with me this morning, he actually asked to come with me, which was a little surprising but he is well behaved in church so it's fine. Paul is going to clean the car while we're gone and then walk the dog while my older children are likely to remain in bed.

Finn and I meet my Mum in church because we are running late. He has issues with his socks and shoes fitting properly and when they don't he has to take them off and put them back on again, several times some days and today is one of those days. Four attempts it took before the seam of his sock and the embroidery threads were in exactly the right place and remained there once his shoes were on. I manage to avoid Father Joe's questioning look at my semi flustered state as I take a seat next to my Mum who has a strange look on her face and is muttering something about 'I can't believe what I have heard'. Those words send my mind into overdrive because I can't stop my paranoia that's telling me it's about me, me, Steven and Father Joe.

What if she's found out what happened? Although I am sure she would have been waiting for me outside to confront me if that was the case. Maybe she knows about my plans to meet Steven...but she can't and again I can't imagine she'd be able to contain herself if she knew.

With my mind whirring I find it almost impossible to concentrate on anything Father Joe is saying until he starts talking about the importance of an open mind in terms of 'friendships'. That just because someone is different to you or is perceived as having a different moral code that doesn't mean you can't offer the hand of friendship and have it accepted. My stomach is churning because I am sure he is talking to me, and then he looks across, right at me and I feel sick, what the hell is he doing? Everyone is following his glance and just as I think I might vomit in the pew he says Finn's name. Glancing across at my son I see that he has his hand in the air.

My breathing is becoming compromised at the prospect of Finn speaking because, well, he is Finn and he rarely thinks before he speaks and now I am panicking that he might have heard me and Paul discussing my meeting with Steven. We had a discussion on it last night, in our bedroom, while Finn was in the bath. I was telling Paul that I was meeting Steven in town, in a pub, a decent one, a chain style pub that's usually busy, but not too busy. Steven had suggested that we could meet in a fancy restaurant but I declined the invite as a fancy dinner in a posh restaurant is like a date in my mind and this is not a date, this is dinner, no more, an opportunity to fill in some gaps and close a door. If I am going to have a date it should be with Paul, my husband, not Steven.

Fortunately, as my son speaks I realise he is clueless about me and Steven. He is telling the congregation that anyone can be your friend and you should try and make lots of friends and be a good friend to them even if they are different to you. He then goes on to tell everyone about his birthday party, that he had lots of different friends there including his friends from school, his cousins, family friends and Father Joe. He went on to say that his family were his friends too and that me, his Mummy and Daddy were kind of like his best friends. That was enough for me to be sniffing back tears. He then drew Grandma into it by telling everyone that Grandma always says that 'strangers are just friends you haven't met yet'. I must admit I stare at my mother wildly because she isn't really one for strangers but she just shrugs and I am grateful that she says such things to my children, enriching their lives and loving nature.

Father Joe finishes off by saying something about the innocence and honesty of children along with their tendency to see things literally, in black and white with no grey areas to confuse, distract and divert them.
It's not until we are outside watching Finn playing with a couple of other children that my mother reveals the details of her, 'I can't believe what I've heard' and her revelation means that I am quickly rounding Finn up and going home via the newsagents to stock up on the tabloids.

Victoria's Diary aged 16

I never thought that your heart could really break, but mine has. It hurts so much that I don't know what to do anymore. Steven left a week ago and we have spoken on the phone and we have written...I love that we now have love letters, but it's not the same. I am struggling to eat or sleep and when I do I dream of him, that he has come back or that he never went so that when I wake up I am sad all over again. College is ok, my course is good but it's not the same without Steven being there, building our future together. Most of the girls on my course have got boyfriends and when they suggest going out I can't bear to think that I will be a gooseberry, the odd one out so I don't go with them, I stay at home alone.

My Mum is trying to be nice, but I think the truth is that she is glad that Steven has gone, that with him out of the way I will forget my silly ideas of moving away and building the life Steven and I planned. My Dad is worried about me, I know he is, he keeps bringing me sweets and chocolate home, but I can't face it, I am too sad for even chocolate. Gemma is taking care of me but even wine is losing its appeal because when I drunk I cry even more.

My Dad has given me a job, at the building yard, in the office; answering the phone and filing stuff. I do a couple of afternoons that I have off and Saturday morning. I start next week and he is going to pay me so I suppose that's one thing.

Victoria's Diary aged 35 and a Half

I am still saying 'wow' and asking Paul 'can you believe it'? He clearly can believe it because he isn't overly surprised by the story unfolding in the press. Mr Monique is spread across the front pages with details of his visits to a dancing club when he's away filming. Scarlett is as fascinated as me by the details and is just saying how much of a workout pole dancing provides and that our local leisure centre offers classes. Finn has taken that too literally making me think of Father Joe when he asks why they have clubs where you can dance with Polish people. When I frown at him he explains that the family over the road next to Gemma, Sebastian's family are Poles, Polish. I leave Paul to deal with that one while Martin tells me that it isn't a pole dancing place, it's lap dancing and the place named in the paper is reputed to offer 'extras'. Finn is now asking how you can dance in a lap which motivates Paul to walk the dog and our youngest son while I continue my eerie fascination with the scandal in the papers.

Martins summary of what might be on offer at this club is verified by the paper and they then go on to say that Mr Monique was seen leaving his family home alone with several suitcases leaving behind his 'heartbroken' wife and child. They go on to give the lowdown on his 'special' relationship with a specific dancer who has been seen leaving his flat, the one he keeps for when he is away filming.

I never thought I would ever feel sympathy or empathy for Monique, not about anything beyond Ned's brattish behaviour but I do. Not only does it appear that her husband has been lying to her for some time but it is being paraded in the media for the world to see. She, Monique is a bitch, but she doesn't court the press in any way from what I have seen, she lives a suburban life with her son and when he's at home, her husband. Yes she parades her life and husband before us all in the school playground and she is very smug about it, but she doesn't deserve this, to be subjected to such scrutiny of her husband's 'wrong doing'. I can't begin to imagine how hurt and embarrassed she must be to know what he's done and that must be made a hundred times worse by the wider world knowing too.

I am throwing the papers away, feeling sad for Monique when Paul returns with a panting dog and a laughing Finn and suddenly I realise that I am Mr Monique, and my lap dancer secret is Steven meaning my meeting with him is more necessary than I thought.