Love to Hate You: Three's a Crowd

Chapter Twenty - No Man's Land

Carl and Rafe had arranged for a specialist company to clean Peter Johnston's house, and in addition to seeing to the less savoury aspects of the clear up, they had boxed up all his worldly possessions and put them into storage. There they had sat untouched, for weeks, as Mattie whiled away each day in a state of numb detachment. Rudy had urged her to speak to someone, but she did not feel up to the task.

Instead, she lay in bed whilst the boys were at school, often sleeping through Rafe's drop-in visits to collect laundry or deliver food. She'd awaken to piles of freshly-cleaned clothes and home cooked meals which needed only to be reheated. To fresh groceries and a far cleaner house than the one she'd fallen asleep in. She knew what Rafe was doing, and a part of her was grateful. A part of her appreciated his efforts, and felt gladdened that he continued to make them without thanks. Yet another part of her felt nothing at all. Apathy, perhaps, or maybe just an inability to identify what she really felt. She only knew that she did not miss her husband, did not take the innocent pleasure she once took in tending to her sons, and felt tired beyond any nursing of a new born she'd ever known.

Despite her distraction and increased sleep, people stopped by every day. Vicky and Rudy – usually separately – Ramona and Aunt Vee. Tobias called, but as he still lived in London, he did not visit. Xander had been surprisingly kind to her, but she reasoned that he was well-acquainted with the flavour of death, and knew how long its aftertaste could linger. Carl got a few extra lines, stopping by to offer calm, practical advice or assistance, and even Lydia had arranged a whip-around at the office, and sent a bouquet of flowers to her, but none could have tried harder than Rafe, and none could have been less welcome.

She refused to see him – would not even talk to him – and if the issue was pressed too firmly by a sympathetic friend, she felt her ire rise until she found herself speaking words of blame aloud; painting her husband blacker than black, lest anyone think him capable of redemption.

'I understand,' Vicky said. 'I know how hurt you are and how let down you feel, but what about the boys? Doesn't he deserve more time with the boys?'

'Time?' Mattie asked, with genuine confusion. 'He didn't have time for me when he'd made me a promise... Why on earth would he have time for the boys now?'

'They're his children,' Vicky coaxed. 'Whatever you're feeling shouldn't come between a father and his children.'

'Fine, then,' Mattie said, rising from the sofa with purpose. 'He can come and be with his children, and I'll go elsewhere.'

'Where?' Vicky challenged. Of course, Mattie could find any number of people to take her in, but she was not in a convivial mood. She did not show the signs of a person willing to reach out in their hour of need.

'Anywhere,' she replied vaguely. 'So long as I'm not around him.'

'But why?' Vicky asked, sadly. 'I know you feel let down, but does that cancel out everything else? Every good feeling there's ever been between you?'

'No, of course not, but there's been a lot of bad feeling, too. This is the straw that broke the camel's back.'

'Who's the camel?' Vicky asked.

'Our marriage,' Mattie said, but her voice was uneven in the face of such a pronouncement. Indeed, it was easy to fester with internal rage. With blame and dissatisfaction. It was easy to push him away when he felt so guilty and deserving of exile. But to say aloud, within hearing of another, that their marriage was over? It was painful and final and she feared that it was worryingly true.

'You don't mean that!' Vicky insisted. But Mattie was no less insistent.

'What if I do? It's not easy, you know; being married to Raffey. Everything's on his terms. Always. He doesn't respect me. Not the way he should. Oh, he says the right things and makes the necessary gestures when I begin to lose my patience, but I'm not sure he doesn't just offer me breadcrumbs to keep me compliant.'