The Second Life of Nathan Jones. David Atkinson
‘Pet-care?’
‘Yeah, I’ll talk to you once you’ve seen it.’ Graham smiled. ‘We’re definitely not out on the pull tonight, then?’
Nathan looked around the bar. Besides Steven Cowley still drowning his sorrows there were three blokes in overalls, an old chap with stained brown trousers and a large backpack-wearing tourist worrying the barman with a map and exaggerated gesticulations. ‘Nah, I’m not in the mood. Besides neither of us have pulled anything for more than a decade. I wouldn’t know what to say any more.’
‘Nobody would be interested in you anyway in your current state. You’d scare any woman away with chat about your wife.’
Nathan supposed he might be right, but the image of Kat flashed into his head. Her dark eyes, pretty face and white teeth occasionally appeared in his dreams, but she didn’t deserve to be burdened with his troubles. She probably had enough of her own to be going on with. He downed his drink and headed for the bar.
*
The next morning, he awoke with a mouth that felt, and probably tasted, like the bottom of a budgie’s cage and a head that thumped incessantly. It even hurt to move his eyes. He hadn’t been drunk for a long time and could only vaguely remember getting home. He still had his clothes on from the night before so obviously he’d just fallen into bed.
He very slowly made his way to the kitchen and swallowed two paracetamol and a bottle of water before returning to bed to wait for the painkillers to kick in, thankful for the first, and only, time that weekend that his girls weren’t there.
Later in the afternoon he went for a walk in Holyrood Park to clear his head and ordered Chinese for dinner. He needed some stodge to make him feel better.
After his Friday night excesses, he spent the remainder of the weekend in the flat tidying and getting the girls’ stuff ready for the next week at school. On the Monday, Graham couriered over some of the nettle drinks, which were even more disgusting than he’d imagined. Selling them would be a challenge. The pet-care thing he’d deal with tomorrow.
Later, with the girls back from their first long weekend with their mother, his world descended once more into comfortable chaos. Laura had brought them back late in the evening, tired and irritable, partly due to the lateness of the hour and partly due to the fact they hadn’t slept well over the weekend, crammed into her tiny flat.
Nathan felt annoyed at Laura for bringing them back so late, especially with Millie and Chloe having school the next day. Despite this he bit down his irritation and they worked in partnership once more as they’d done for years. Within an hour all three of their drowsy daughters were tucked up and asleep.
It almost felt like old times as they both collapsed onto the couch and sipped red wine whilst watching the ten o’clock news.
‘I don’t think I’ll do that again in a hurry; my flat’s too small. I’ll try and get a bigger place soon.’
Nathan didn’t reply as all he’d have said was, ‘There’s a big flat here you could stay in,’ and the argument would have started up all over again. Apart from that, it felt reasonably normal – that was if he ignored the fact that, although Laura would be sleeping beside him in their bed, they’d be miles apart mentally, then tomorrow after she’d helped get the girls ready she’d be out of the door, leaving for London on a lunchtime flight. Then none of them would see her for weeks. It was an arrangement that suited only her.
*
Nathan awoke to an empty bed, which he’d grown used to by now. He could hear the shower in the en suite bathroom and glanced at the clock beside the bed: 6.12 a.m., an early start even by her standards. He rolled over, clutched her pillow and breathed in the familiar scent. He sighed and closed his eyes. A few minutes later his wife appeared wrapped in a big fluffy bath towel. She even managed a smile as she caught him staring at her legs. She walked over to their wardrobe, which still contained many of her clothes due to the lack of space in her London pad. She dropped the towel and quickly pulled on a pink G-string and matching bra. Nathan watched in rapt appreciation; he could feel himself becoming aroused simply by the sight of his wife putting on her clothes. He knew he could do nothing about it and it was a relief for both of them when he pulled a towel from the ottoman at the foot of the bed and went for a shower, possibly a cold one.
After a mad breakfast and the usual morning chaos only Nathan, Laura and Daisy remained in the flat.
‘I’ll drop Daisy off on my way to the airport if you want?’ offered Laura. ‘Spares you going out and means you can get some work done, and it would be nice to spend a little bit of extra time with her before I go.’
Nathan thought but didn’t say, You could spend as much time with her as you want if you only decided to live with her. Instead he said, ‘Yeah, okay. Thanks,’ and wandered into his study and shut the door. Having her home, even for an evening, had been hard on him. He knew that she’d left him but somehow this coming and going made life difficult; it meant he couldn’t ever get any perspective on his feelings. He imagined it might be like that for lots of couples with kids who split up.
An hour later she came into his study and sat on the only other chair in the room beside his desk. Nathan noticed she’d dressed impeccably in a new Paul Smith black V-necked dress with black Kurt Geiger Chelsea boots that she’d proudly shown him the previous evening. He’d commented that she worked in Fulham so she’d better be careful wearing Chelsea boots. It had made her laugh and his heart had ached when she’d smiled at him.
He noticed her make-up had been perfectly applied and her hair, which had been straightened and tumbled down over her shoulders, no longer had any traces of grey in it. Even that pained him as she’d not bothered to do that when she’d been living with him. It felt as if every action she took had been carefully designed to hurt him. She’d also changed her perfume to a subtler product that reminded him of apple blossom.
*
Laura noted his pained expression; she’d expected it. She knew her coming back to the flat to stay would be hard on him. It felt uncomfortable for her too. She found it difficult to stay angry when she didn’t see him every day. Maybe the old saying about familiarity breeding contempt had more than a ring of truth to it. She missed her daughters much more than she’d expected, but she’d come to realise that she could never come home. Nathan would drive her bonkers, especially now when she had other distractions in her life. She forced a smile. ‘Right, then, that’s me off. I’ll drop Daisy at nursery; don’t forget to get her at three o’clock.’
‘I haven’t forgotten any day when you’ve not been here so I’m not going to start now.’
‘Yeah, sorry.’
He sighed. ‘Laura, can we not try again? All this coming and going is silly. We could sell up, buy a new bigger place and start afresh.’
‘We’ve been over this – all we would do is take our problems with us. It’s not like we can pack them in a box and leave them in a cupboard somewhere. Anyway, we couldn’t afford to move; you hardly make enough to cover the mortgage as it is with your fannying about on the internet.’
‘I don’t fanny about. I run a top-end advertising consultancy.’
‘Any time I’ve ever come in here, you’re on some football website.’
‘I only do that whilst waiting for inspiration and sometimes it’s just research.’
‘You must do an awful lot of waiting for inspiration, then. Also, how many football accounts are you working on?’ she asked with a laugh.
*
Nathan sighed. He found it hard to be mad at Laura when she knew him so well. He wondered if he would ever have that again with someone, that intimate ‘knowing’ that took so long to establish.
‘What are you working on just now?’
He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small plastic