Out Of The Mouths Of Babes

Twelve

Twelve

 Helen awoke the following morning with a knot in her stomach. She knew she’d intended to tell Amanda last night about her affair with Steve; sordid details and all. But she couldn’t remember what she’d actually said. She jumped out of bed suddenly, making it to the toilet seconds before she threw up. Her head pounded and her throat felt sticky. She leaned against the bathroom wall and slid slowly down the tiles until she was sitting on the floor. “Shit,” she said out loud. “What have I done?” She held her head it her hands. “Stupid cow!”

At that moment, the doorbell rang. “Who the bloody hell?” she mumbled. “…at this hour.” Actually, she had no idea of the hour. She was assuming it was early morning, but for all the use her brain was just now, it could have been early evening. It rang again, echoing around her head. Dragging herself to her feet, she made her way downstairs and pulled open the front door just as Marcus was about to ring the bell again. “Good night, was it?” he said.

“Not really,” she moaned, stepping back to allow Marcus and her daughters to enter the house. “I wasn’t expecting you until lunchtime.”

“It’s twelve thirty, Mum,” said Leigh, giving her mother a reproving look. “Did you get very drunk last night?”

“It looks like she still is very drunk,” said Chelsea, dropping her bag onto the floor and skipping into the kitchen.

Helen followed her. “Cheeky madam! I may have had a little more wine than was advisable, but I’m fine, now. At least, I will be after a coffee and a couple of Nurofen. Did you two have a nice time last night?”

“Yeah, we went to the cinema and Pizza Hut,” smiled Chelsea.

“Hmm, I reckon this pair ate enough to keep them going ‘til Christmas,” Marcus added.

“I don’t think so,” said Leigh, opening the fridge and scrutinising the contents.

Helen pulled a face at the sight of all the food. “Coffee?” she asked Marcus.

The relationship between the two of them had been a little more relaxed of late. It was becoming increasingly apparent to Helen, that Marcus was, for the first time to her knowledge, genuinely trying to better himself; to be a good father, and possibly, although she wasn’t holding her breath, even to be a decent partner to his new fiancée.

“Yeah go on, I will, if it’s no trouble,” he said. “So, did you get bladdered with your sisters and  talk a whole load of girly drivel?”

“Something like that.” It was all coming back to her, now. There was a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and she felt her face begin to burn up.

“What?” asked Marcus.

“What d’you mean, what?”

“You’re forgetting how well I know you.”

Helen poked her head into the hallway, checking that her daughters were safely out of earshot. They were just disappearing upstairs with a packet of sausage rolls. She waited a moment until she heard music coming from one of their bedrooms. The coast was clear.

“Okay, I’m going to tell you,” she announced. “I’ve no idea why I’m going to tell you; I probably am still a little drunk and will undoubtedly regret it when I sober up. Nevertheless, I’m going to tell you.”

“Marcus smiled but said nothing.”

“I’ve been having an affair!” she whispered as dramatically as she could muster in a whisper.

“You’re a free agent,” he said with a slightly confused expression.

“I am,” she said, “but he’s far from it.”