63
There might be more awkward places to receive a phone call from your ex’s mum than the sky-high flat of your new lover, the morning after the first night before, but if there was, Roisin didn’t care to know about it.
Even worse and more cackhanded, Roisin hadn’t intended to answer it, for all the aforementioned reasons, but had been mid-swipe when Fay’s name appeared, pressing Accept Call in error.
At least she was alone – Matt’s job kept some anti-social hours and he’d had to go to a Sunday morning meeting about his rehiring. He’d left her a key.
‘You can keep that,’ he said, before another feverish bout of kissing that made him late. Roisin would’ve happily made him even later.
‘Hello, Roisin. I wanted to say how sorry Kenneth and I were to hear about you and Joseph separating.’
‘Thank you, Fay,’ Roisin said. ‘It’s really sad, but hopefully it’s civilised.’
‘You’re staying in the flat, Joe says?’
Fay was battling to keep the disapproval out of her voice and failing. Roisin spotted the exact tenor of neutrally raising something that had been discussed in extremely judgemental terms already.
‘Joe insisted that it was only fair, after I supported his writing career for all those years. It’s extremely generous of him. I guess he’s so successful now it’s different rules.’
Fay inhaled. ‘Joe also says you’re involved with someone you both know? A friend?’
Oh GOD. Scorched earth, Joe, is it? There was no need for this. She could’ve given Lorraine chapter and verse and opted not to.
‘Erm. There were multiple factors in the break-up,’ Roisin said, terse. ‘It wasn’t due to any infidelity.’
‘I’d have thought it didn’t help! Come on, Roisin.’
‘Nothing went on behind Joe’s back, Fay.’
Nevertheless, she writhed. Roisin wasn’t proud of the fact she’d fallen for one of their mutual friends. The reason she was able to, was because she and Joe had already imploded.
The right and proper way for her romantic life to continue was a respectful six months to a year of singledom, and then seeing someone wholly unconnected to Joe. But life was a chaotic, inconvenient bastard, and there it was. Love was love. Joe certainly couldn’t say she had stolen his bosom buddy, with her bosoms.
Fay asked a few more questions about her welfare that had answers she couldn’t possibly care about. It became clear that she wasn’t issuing an elegant and affectionate farewell; she was so appalled that she couldn’t resist hearing Roisin’s account for herself. She was forcing Roisin to own her infamous treatment of her son, in the style of an officer reading out the charges. To make it clear They Knew.
Roisin was surprised by how upsetting she found it. All those years of scraping carrots for the festive lunch, sending them press clippings about SEEN and remembering which small-batch distillery gin Kenneth liked, for nothing. She had been a near-faultless daughter-in-law and it all evaporated after a few choice, butthurt words from Joe. Mothers and their sons. She thought about Lorraine and Ryan.
After she ended the call, Roisin saw Dominic, Joe’s best friend, was on Call Waiting. Was this a ‘Line Up To Kick Rosh’s Arse’ queue? She very nearly declined. Only the momentum from having faced Fay made her take it. Her blood was up.
‘Hi, Dominic!’ she said.
‘Roisin, darling. How are you?’ She found Dom’s patrician manner with women the same age as him irksome at the best of times.
‘You know what, I was OK until Joe’s mum rang to insinuate I’m a greedy jezebel. If you’re offering anything on that theme, can I ask that we don’t? The meeting could be an email, as they say.’
‘Oh goodness! Mums! Sorry to hear,’ Dom said, emollient.
Roisin had expected him to take offence and fell quiet.
‘Vic and I are quite gutted, and we wanted to let you know that, and check you’re OK. Also, please keep this between us, but I think young Joseph does himself no favours with the cocksure, invulnerable routine. He’s an absolute mess over losing you, whether he shows it or not.’
‘Ah,’ Roisin said.
‘When he talks about you, what always shines out is the immense respect he has for you, Roisin.’
Aye, does it, she thought. She knew there’d be an angle, and here it was. ‘Give Joe another chance’, as heavy subtext.
‘You’re the only woman in the world as far as he’s concerned. He thinks you’re a powerhouse. That’s the word he uses.’
Roisin tried to sound appreciative. She knew Dom meant well, and maybe it was his manner that grated. But she was being mansplained on how she should perceive Joe, being mansplained on his true amour for her. Did it not occur to Dominic to ask what Roisin thought? Her break-up had become others’ property.
There was no point saying any of this: Dom would merely insist he wanted Roisin to know how cherished she was.
‘… I’m doing a mercy dash to stay with him tonight so he’s not on his own. I expect there will be Tom Waits and whisky. Listen, this is none of my business …’ Dom said.
You can probably stop there, then? Roisin thought, waspishly.
‘Joe mentioned someone you both know putting moves on you. He feels this man is very much not to be trusted. He doesn’t have your best interests at heart. Joe was very agitated and worried that you think it’s mere possessiveness. He discussed it for some time when he called in the other week.’
It was the tiniest of tiny things, a snagged thread on a table edge. Roisin could easily dismiss it.
But, ‘called in’? When Joe had said he’d stayed over?