I Know Your Secret - Ruth Heald Page 0,32

got married… well, we’ve become closer, haven’t we? I’ve seen that you’re not as perfect as you like to come across.’

‘No one is. Everyone has the occasional bad day, the occasional bad mood.’

‘You know that’s not what I’m talking about.’

I glare at him, feeling the rage building inside me. I need to leave the house before it explodes out of me, proves him right.

I go outside, get in the car and drive. I keep going for miles and miles down the dark streets, finding myself on the dual carriageway into London, the terraced houses rolling by. I need to think, process everything that Peter’s said. It’s not like it’s a surprise. I’d suspected that he’d changed his mind about having kids. It just seems so unreasonable. I went into my marriage wholeheartedly. I remember the beginning, when I was falling in love, when I was desperate to see him all the time, desperate to hear his voice. I’d been drawn to him, couldn’t leave him alone. Back then we’d worked in the same office and I used to keep making up excuses to go upstairs to the floor where he worked just to catch sight of him. We used to make time for each other, grabbing stolen moments at lunchtime. Now we hardly see each other.

I’d thought he was the one. I could hardly believe my luck. I’d planned out our lives together perfectly. But now he’s saying he doesn’t want children. I’m thirty. I know there’s plenty of time to persuade him, but what if I don’t manage it? What if he keeps saying maybe, but then we never get round to it?

Suddenly everything feels overwhelming. Like I need to make a decision as soon as possible. I’ve read the stats. Fertility’s supposed to fall off a cliff at thirty-five. And I want three children. If Peter isn’t right for me, then I don’t have long to find the right man to have kids with.

For a moment I consider staying with Peter, living happily ever after but not having kids. I can’t imagine it. There’s nothing wrong with my life, but sometimes it’s like I’m just waiting for something to happen. There’s a part of me deep inside that feels empty and unfulfilled. I know kids will make me happy, that they’re the missing part of me. But if Peter doesn’t want them, then I can’t see how he fits into the picture. I fight back tears. I love Peter and I’m desperate for a future with him. But I can’t contemplate a future without children in it. If he’s certain he doesn’t want kids, then I’m going to have to make a decision.

Peter. Or the children I’ve always wanted.

Nineteen

Beth

The swing goes higher and higher, Charlie stretching his feet out to the sky. It’s a crisp Saturday morning and there’s only a smattering of dads with their kids in the park, taking their turn at childcare. They make awkward conversation as their children run and shout and play.

It’s so long since I’ve taken Charlie here. During the week I’m so busy with clients and looking after Charlie that I struggle to keep up with the housework and admin. I always end up spending Saturday mornings catching up while Charlie watches TV. But today I have the afternoon free to get all that done. Richard’s taking Charlie to the new soft-play centre and then Charlie’s staying over at his flat on the camp bed for the first time.

He’s buzzing with excitement about staying at his dad’s flat and hasn’t stopped talking about it. I’m pleased he’s adjusting so well to our split, but it hurts to think he won’t miss me. I’ve never been apart from him overnight before and I’m not sure how I’ll cope.

Charlie jumps down off the swing and heads to the climbing frame. He scales it confidently. I remember the days when he was learning to walk and I used to have to hold his hand as he toddled round the park, and help him up the steps to the slide. He doesn’t need me anymore, and I feel like a spare part, just watching. A part of his childhood is already over, and I’m not at all ready.

‘Look at me, Mum!’ he shouts from the top.

I smile up and wave. ‘Well done! You’re so high up.’

‘Take a photo of me!’

I wonder why he wants a picture of something he’s done so many times before, but I get out my phone obligingly and snap the photo.

As