The Single Mums' Secrets - Janet Hoggarth Page 0,22

meant it, but the part of her that had meant it coerced her to stand her ground. She’d not seen him cry for years, not since Ted had been born and he’d leaned over to kiss her slippery forehead, declaring her a hero for the onerous twenty-five-hour labour. Louise suspected Nigel had the potential to be a bit of a lame divorced dad and maybe that’s what had really fuelled the tears. She predicted the children would dread spending alternate weekends with him. She foresaw them being palmed off on his parents so he could play golf… Or maybe he would have surprised them all, risen to the occasion and overtaken Louise to become Parent of the Year.

Lying in bed, she felt a rush of scalding anger detonate behind her eyes as she contemplated the past – why couldn’t he have seen the light before she’d met James? Then maybe she wouldn’t have been punished for the non-affair, her adulterous thoughts, and Nigel would still be alive. She wouldn’t be on her own, facing his death with nothing to divert her from the grief that really did belong to her.

Her heart dragged her along like a runaway horse. She couldn’t breathe, hot panic bubbled in her belly: Louise had never felt so out of control in her life. She staggered out of bed, her nightie damp across her chest, sweat running in a torrent down her sides. She tried breathing deeper, like she had taught women in labour, but all she could do was wheeze. She stumbled into the spare room where Christa was asleep.

‘Christa,’ she gasped, shaking her. ‘Christa, I think I’m having a heart attack.’

Christa sat bolt upright, the duvet clinging to her shoulders. She felt around for the bedside lamp and smashed her hand down on the button on the base. The light temporarily blinded them both.

‘What’s going on?’ she asked hoarsely, squinting up at Louise. ‘Sit down.’ She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and motioned for Louise to sit next to her.

‘Can hardly breathe.’

‘Have you any chest or arm pain?’

Louise shook her head. ‘Feel sick… and dizzy… can’t control my heart.’ Louise struggled to get the words out, her breath dwindling as it reached the back of her throat. ‘S’like I’ve had ten lines of coke.’

Christa stood up and grabbed her bag from the end of the bed, rooted around inside and pulled out her stethoscope from its case.

‘I don’t think you are having one, but I’ll listen.’ Louise lifted up her nightie and Christa calmly pressed the stethoscope against her clammy chest like she had when they were little and had role-played doctors and nurses behind the sofa in the living room.

‘I think you’re having a panic attack. Did you wake up feeling like this or were you stewing?’

‘Stewing.’

‘Louise, you’re grieving; all this is normal. Close your eyes. Now slowly breathe in for five, out for five. You know the drill. Keep going.’ Christa breathed with her and rubbed her back. Louise slowly lowered her shoulders from where she had been wearing them as earrings. As they sat for five minutes on the bed, their knees touching, Louise eased herself back in to her life. The rawness of it hit her full force in the gut.

‘I can’t believe how much it hurts,’ she whimpered finally. ‘It’s almost irrelevant that I’d asked to separate. It’s like I never did now. I just feel like I imagined all the other shit. How bored of it all I was, how lonely I’d got doing everything on my own. I don’t want to imagine that Nigel would have permanently changed and things would have got better. I want to imagine it was set in stone and the end was coming. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing makes any difference. I’ll never know and I’ll never know how I really felt. All I know is that I wish he was here… and this would all go away.’

Louise let out the howl of a wounded animal. Christa gripped her shoulders, trying to ground her.

‘Why? Why does it hurt so much? I’m being punished.’

‘Lou, you’ve never faced anything like this before… The veracity of the situation has just hit home. All you can do is let it in. The more you fight it, the longer the struggle will be. Give in to the feelings. Don’t judge them, don’t analyse, just be with it all and it will pass eventually. It slowly gets easier over time.’

‘Is that how you coped

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