Invisible Read online

  He explained that it’s because he’s so nervous and is really het up, so just comes out with it. ‘I know I’ll just, if I try to tell you how sorry I really am for what I do, I’ll just…and if I say how much I love you…I’ll get all nervous, trip over my words,’ he said. He certainly started to stutter and stumble when he said that bit.

  My heart melted then, I don’t mind admitting; a warmth spreading through me, out from my chest. He’s seems so big and strong and blokey, and really it’s all a huge act to hide an insecure boy. It’s easy to forget that sometimes and only see the façade he puts up. Then something will happen to make me think of that bullied child he used to be and I don’t think there are words to describe how I feel. Protective of him, angry for him, guilty that I could forget for even a second the tough life he’s had and why he’s the way he is.

  I told him I just need him to keep telling me what’s happening and how he feels, or else I’ll get worried. I didn’t mention that stuff about him fancying Kim, what’s the point? I understand now that it was just about him putting his ‘big man’ act on.

  Monday 4

  Very sweet today. Daryl gave me a call before he went to work. ‘Just to say hi and I’m thinking of you and miss you and love you,’ he said. That really made my day!

  Wednesday 5

  Why is it that you never get everything right in life? If work’s fine, then chances are the relationship is struggling; if the relationship’s fine, then there’s a problem with the family. As up and down as Daryl and I are, it feels like we’re slowly making headway – I mean, at least we’re finally talking about our problems a bit instead of just ignoring them and hoping they will go away. He has promised to try to get round to booking a counselling session this week, too. So that’s good, and work is good. But this situation with Hannah is really bugging me.

  Even thinking about it makes me feel like a kid again, it’s all so childish, and I can’t help feeling that as grown women we should both be handling things a bit better. But I’m not invited to nights out with her and Amy any more, and when I ask her for a drink she can’t make it because she’s skint or busy or something, but she always seems to make it to nights out with other people.

  I asked her to that night out on Saturday and she cried out right at the very last minute because she’d no money. Fair enough. But I found out today that she went out with a group of other mates instead.

  The problem isn’t, of course, that she’s gone out with other people, it’s that she lied. If it were just once then fair enough, I’d think maybe she did it to spare my feelings or because she felt awkward, but she always has an excuse. Something has happened between us, and although I’ve tried hard to think what it can be, I’ve no idea. I’ve asked her continually what the problem is but she doesn’t want to tell me.

  We’ve been friends since primary school. Surely she knows me well enough to know she can tell me anything, and that if there is a problem I’ll want to try my best to sort it out. She’s my oldest friend.

  Clearly I’m just going to have to be the bigger person in all this. I can’t and won’t keep offering the olive branch forever though, but I am willing to give it one more go. This morning I sent her a text message asking if she was in tonight so I could talk to her, as I really want to clear the air. If she’s still weird after this, then tough, because it’s been going on for months and I’m bored. No more effort will be made on my part to find out what is wrong or build bridges.

  I’m not a doormat, and if she can’t be bothered to tell her friend (me!!) what is up then it wasn’t much of a friendship in the first place. Whatever I have done wrong in her eyes, it can’t be that bad – it’s not like I’ve murdered someone or something, so I’d have hoped I deserved a bit of honesty, a bit of leeway and support. Like I’m giving her.

  6pm –Still no reply from Hannah. Stuff her.

  On a far more important note, I’ve lost 4lb for no reason whatsoever. I was 10st exactly on Monday, but not any more! It’s given me the incentive I need to start exercising. I’m doing a Body Blitz dvd followed by yoga before I go to bed tonight.

  10.35pm – Heard from Hannah at about 7pm. She sent me a text saying she’d been working all day and was going to watch footie tonight. Said she’d come round tomorrow though. We’ll see. Wish I weren’t so suspicious-natured.

  Anyway, I have done my workout and my legs feel all satisfyingly wibbly now. I feel great, and much less stressed.

  Saturday 8

  Typical. I go all the way through winter without so much as a sniffle, and just as spring starts I get a stonker. I came home Thursday night thinking ‘hmm, feel a bit dodgy all of a sudden.’ By yesterday morning I had a full on cold. My nose, bunged up and hot, feels like it’s swollen until it has taken over half my face. Eyes water continually, limbs ache, my voice is really croaky - and not even in a sexy, husky way; more of an old crone way. I’m like the ‘before’ in a Tunes ad.

  And I’ve got nothing to eat in the house, so am basically eating a mismatch of leftovers, because of course Daryl is away and I am too ill to face going outside let alone doing battle in a supermarket. Seriously, I may as well be single. What’s the point of being married if he’s not around when I need him?

  Mind you, it’s probably just as well. Once he’s fetched me half of Boots pharmacy, bought some Lucozade, and fixed me some food, he’d only start bugging me. Far better I be left alone while I lie on the sofa, wrapped up in a sweaty, Olbas oil-soaked duvet, free to watch whatever rubbish I want as I come round from one nap and float into another, surrounded by a drift of used tissues.

  4pm - Eek, just made the mistake of looking in the mirror. I have a very white face and a very red nose, like a washed out clown, all framed with greasy hair. In fact, my nose is so sore that even thinking about blowing it makes me wince. I’m feeling pretty sorry for myself as I sit here wiping at my watery eyes so I can see what on earth I’m writing – I am constantly on the verge of sneezing.

  5.30pm - Bless her, Kim text to see if I needed anything but I didn’t feel right asking her to run errands for me. Not when she has so much to worry about in her personal life. She’s a good friend though. Ah, talking of good friends… Hannah. Can’t believe she blew me out on Thursday night. To be honest I was going to cancel on her because I felt so rotten but she got in first, using the catch-all phrase ‘something has come up’. Pathetic.

  I’ve no energy to be annoyed though. I’m using it all up on keeping my mouth hanging open and breathing in and out. I want my nose back!!

  Sunday 9

  I’m snoring. I know this because I actually woke myself with a particularly loud one. Gross. I’m sooooooo tired. Can’t sleep for more than an hour or so in one hit because my nose is so bunged up I can’t breathe. I wake with a dry mouth from sleeping with it wide open, while my nose runs like a tap, and my chest feels heavy from the mucus gathering on it. Eurgh, having a cold is rotten.

  I really need a cuddle and my stupid husband is miles away, working hard and earning a crust so he can keep me in tissues – and believe me, I’m getting through them at a rate of knots. Well, actually, I’ve used up all the tissues I’ve bought and have moved on to loo roll. Let’s hope I either get better soon or Daryl comes home because I don’t even want to think about what will happen if I run out of that…

  The problem with lying on the sofa, mad with lack of sleep, is that my mind has free reign to dwell on things without distraction (I don’t count constant reruns on telly of CSI and Time Team as a distraction). As I lie here, waiting and hoping for Daryl’s return, I realised that my whole life is spent waiting, waiting, waiting. It’s on hold. I put off doing anything because I always think it’ll be nicer to do it with Daryl than do it alone – and then we never get round to it. I don’t even get to cook for him and look after him; we live on takeaways when he’s around because although I do want to look after him, I don’t want to waste our precious time together messing around in the kitchen.

  Oh
the guilt. I’m a bad wife.

  I really, really miss Daryl. I just want him here, making everything okay. Just hearing his voice would be good but he doesn’t like to call when abroad because of the cost.

  Bored, bored, bored. Ooh, phone’s ringing!

  It was Mum checking up on me. She said: ‘I wish I didn’t live so far away so I could pop over to look after you. But then again I know all you want is Daryl back; you’ll feel better once he’s around again, and so will I.’

  She’s a big fan of his, especially since I told her about his childhood. I think she wants to be his replacement mum.

  I’ve just ricked something in my neck while sneezing. Going to try to sleep now…

  Monday 10

  Amy and Hannah came over after work today to check on the sickie. When I got Amy’s text I managed to galvanise myself to pick up the tissues strewn all over the floor, which were almost ankle-deep round the sofa and bed, so I must be feeling a bit better. Even yesterday I couldn’t have contemplated that level of movement.

  I was looking forward to the visit, bored of my own company, with nothing to think of but mucus. But the minute I saw their faces I knew something was up. I felt like I was standing in front of a firing squad, waiting for them to speak. They managed a minute or so of nervous small-talk about how they’d brought some magazines over to keep me occupied, and as Amy handed them to me I noticed her give Hannah the tiniest nudge with her elbow.

  ‘Erm, look I know you’ve been thinking something’s wrong for a while,’ Hannah said. When she gets nervous she really talks with her hands. They were suddenly very busy. ‘Well, the thing is…you’re right!’

  Definitely nervous – she said this last bit inappropriately brightly, like a magician’s assistant saying ‘ta-da’, her voice going right up. She seemed to realise and cleared her throat before carrying on. ‘Thing is we didn’t go to Salzburg, and we are being funny with you, for a reason. Because we hate Daryl.’

  I blinked. I took a deep breath in, heart thumping as I tried to comprehend, and then huffed the air out. And smiled. ‘This is a joke, right?’ I looked from one to the other and back again, still smiling. They weren’t laughing. No surprise there, it wasn’t a funny joke.

  Hannah glanced at Amy for reassurance, then looked me right in the eye and carried on, her hands in full flow. ‘A few months back, back in January, we popped round to see if you fancied going shopping with us. He made us feel really uncomfortable.’

  ‘Really uncomfortable?’ I repeated slowly. My heart was banging against my chest now, like I’d run a marathon, and I felt so shaky from the cold or the adrenaline, I’m not sure, that I sank down onto the sofa.

  All kinds of things were running through my mind, wondering what the hell he’d said or done. Perhaps he’d got bored of me and decided to try it on with them. I mean, he’d said the other day, and I quote, ‘That Kim is a bit of all right. I would.’ Perhaps it wasn’t just her that ‘he would’, perhaps it was all my friends. Suddenly I felt a bit sick.

  ‘Tell me exactly what happened.’ I hadn’t meant to whisper but that was all the sound I seemed able to muster.

  ‘We came over and asked for you. Daryl invited us in, told us that you shouldn’t be too long because you’d just nipped to the supermarket. He said we should wait for you, offered us a cup of coffee…’ said Hannah. ‘Then, as we sat on the sofa, we got talking and suddenly he…he gave me this look.’

  A look.

  ‘This, this, this terrible look. There was just a terrible atmosphere. He gave this knowing sort of look, like he was thinking something terrible, like he was capable of doing something terrible,’ she plunged on, running her hands through her pixie crop. She used the word terrible a lot – clearly her vocabulary is…terrible.

  Amy agreed. ‘Honestly, I know it sounds over the top, but you weren’t there. The atmosphere…’ she shuddered. I was tempted to ask if it was terrible, but I couldn’t seem to speak or move, I was locked in place as I listened to her continue. ‘I just wanted to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. He said we could wait for you but no way was I going to. I was scared.’

  That’s when the anger exploded. ‘Scared?! You were scared of…a look? An indescribable yet “terrible” look?’ I shouted, ignoring the razor blades that seemed to score at my swollen tonsils. ‘He made you feel uncomfortable. Good grief, have you any idea how petty and ridiculous you sound. What did you think he was going to do, leap on you and ravage you? Hold you hostage? Slit your throat?’

  ‘You weren’t there,’ said Hannah.

  ‘No, but I’m here now, hoping you can offer me something more than this. Christ, you’ve got in a moody with me because I wasn’t in when you deigned to come and see me; that’s what’s put your nose out of joint. If you were genuinely so scared you could have told me this crap weeks ago but instead you’ve waited and waited – and you know why? Because it’s a nothing, a nonsense. You just always have to be in control of our friendship, be Little Miss Popularity bestowing your friendship on me. Well I don’t want your friendship. Stuff you!’

  I gave it to her with both barrels. She stepped back from me, amazed that I’ve finally stood up to her because we have never, ever had a row before as I always just go along with what she wants, for an easier life. Ever since school she has been the one in charge, and she hasn’t been keen on Daryl from the start simply because he took me away from her and she didn’t like the fact that someone else had more influence over me than her. She’s not used to being challenged, was always so popular at school; sporty, clever, the first to get picked on teams, while I hung on to her coat tails a bit and was popular purely by association with her. This was the first time I had ever challenged her, and she didn’t know what to do. It was empowering to see her step back like that, stunned.

  I could understand her reaction though because I was pretty stunned myself. But I just carried on, for once feeling strong and unafraid of confrontation – I think it was my protective streak that gave me the strength; she was being so unfair on Daryl and hadn’t even given him a chance to defend himself.

  ‘You just feel bad because you know damn well how unreasonable you’ve been lately, and now, desperate for any excuse, you’ve decided to blame Daryl,’ I ranted. ‘You come here and announce you hate my husband because - ooh, scary - he looked at you.’

  I’m quite proud of myself because I spat the last bit out while doing a kind of jazz hands movement, totally taking the pee. I was so furious it gave me the guts to be sarky. Even now, I’m so angry I’m almost shaking. All right, so Daryl isn’t the easiest of people. Even I freely admit that he’s often a tosser when in company, seems to have this need to push people’s buttons and act like a knob, but you just have to learn to ignore him. He’s not scary!!!!

  By the end of it, Hannah had got all sniffy, as though somehow I was being unreasonable. Silly cow. At least Amy had the courtesy to look mortified by the whole thing. ‘We didn’t mean to hurt you…’ she began, but I cut her off. They both should have thought of that before they came to my house talking rubbish.

  Tuesday 11

  Still annoyed about yesterday. I’m not going to tell Daryl about it though because he’d, fair enough, go absolutely mental. He’d be so hurt. Poor bloke has little enough self-esteem as it is after all those years of being bullied at school and undermined by his mum, without people laying into him now. Tell you what though, if Hannah and Amy were terrified of one of his looks I reckon they’d wet themselves if he went to see them to give them a piece of his mind. The thought almost makes me tempted to tell him, but no, it’s not fair on him. Shame though.

  Anyway, the good news is, the tonsils have come right down to normal size and I am starting to feel human again. I don’t like to boast but I washed my hair this morning. I had to, otherwise it might have walked off and washed itself, it was in such a state.

  Afterwards I sat and read the mags Amy and Hannah had brought round (at least the visit was good for
something). There was an article in it about ‘How to spot if he’s having an affair’. Elusive behaviour, hard to pin down, irritable, frequently unreachable on the phone… Should I be worried that Daryl ticks every one? Well theoretically, yes. The thing is though…he’s always been the same. So unless he has been having an affair for the last nine years, the entire time we’ve been together, then I’m not too worried. Boy would he have to have an understanding mistress!

  We even joke about it sometimes when, for example, he’ll mention having been to the cinema to see something and he’ll think we’ve been together. ‘No, that was with your other woman,’ I’ll laugh, and he cracks up too.

  Or sometimes he forgets he’s told me things and will either not have told me at all or told me 20 times and he’ll snigger and say: ‘Ah no, I must have told the other woman, not you.’

  I’ve even asked him before if he is seeing someone else – not in an accusing way though because that would just cause a row; in a jovial, funny way. He just gives me an exasperated but sympathetic look and says: ‘How the hell could I have an affair? Even if I wanted to I don’t have time for one. I can barely find the time to be with you and I love you to bits.’ Sometimes he is such a sweetheart and knows just what to say to make me feel better. Can’t wait to see him tomorrow.

  Thursday 13

  Daryl is home. These ten days away have seemed so long, too long. When he climbed into bed beside me last night it felt odd for a second. The bed seems so different with him, the duvet too small to cover us both, the mattress tension firmer because it is stretched further with the weight of two bodies instead of one, and he gives off so much heat that I am roasting and have to poke a foot out from under the duvet to try to sneakily cool down.