J & P Book 6 - Remember Me And Smile

Chapter Eleven

"Of course Andrew's welcome over this weekend," his mother said quietly. "None of this is his fault." She glared across the dining room table at him.

"Fine, just wanted to check," he said, not looking up at her. He appreciated their offer of somewhere to stay for a few weeks while he got things sorted, especially as his parents were being so supportive in helping him keep away from the lure of alcohol at a very difficult and upsetting time, but he was not enjoying his mother's regular disappointed digs.

"It'll do you good," she said. "And you should get back to the office tomorrow, too. Take your mind off things. Have you got clothes for work?"

"I'd need to go and get a tie and a jacket," he sighed. "I have a shirt and trousers from Friday, which you've kindly washed for me." The clothes he'd arrived in, basically, after the event. The tie from that day was probably still strewn on the bedroom floor at Theatre Close. He'd been living in clothes borrowed from his younger brother's wardrobe since then, which had been languishing in a spare bedroom for some years now.

"Would you like me to go over?" she offered.

"I'll go," he said. "I'll text Claire now, tell her I'll be over on my way to the office tomorrow. I'll have to go and get some more stuff at some point anyway."

"You might find it's all in binbags outside," his mother stated, getting up and leaving the room.

Patrick sighed. It wouldn't surprise him, after the blazing row they'd had on Friday night. Claire had thrown things at him, hit him and called him some terrible names. She'd thrown him out and told him never to come near her again. He'd deserved it all, obviously.

He was worried about Claire, although he knew she probably wouldn't want to know about his concerns. He understood that deep down she was more vulnerable than anyone else knew, and she didn't really have much of a support network around her. He was concerned for Dexter too, he must have heard what had happened, he would be wondering where his dad had gone. What had Claire said to him?

He'd thought it best to keep his distance for a few days, recalling only too well how he'd felt when he'd been a victim of adultery, but it was probably time to go back and test the water now. He composed the text. "I NEED SOME CLOTHES FOR WORK, SO WILL CALL IN FIRST THING. IF YOU WANT TO TALK, WE SHOULD TALK." His last twelve texts had been ignored, but hopefully she'd had time to calm down now.

He then sent a text to Andrew about the weekend, pressing send with a heavy heart, as he knew by telling Andrew he was staying with his parents, he was indirectly letting Jenny know that Claire had thrown him out. They had not communicated since Friday night; and Patrick had no idea what to do about that fact. On one hand, this fact would be a good negotiating point to try and save his marriage. On the other hand, he was worried about Jenny and how she was feeling.

A text message came through. "DON'T BOTHER, I'VE CHANGED THE LOCKS. AND I DON'T WANT TO TALK. YOU KNOW WHERE THE SHOPS ARE." Clearly, she wasn't ready to see him yet; at least she'd replied this time.

***

The following evening, after work, he knocked on the door of his home, after establishing that Claire had actually changed the locks.

She opened the door. "I said I don't want to talk."

"I do," he said, with authority. "Will you please just let me in?"

She let him in, and he wandered through into the lounge, noticing the place was the messiest he'd seen it; there were empty glasses and bottles everywhere.