The Distance Between Us Read online

  Chapter Four

  Tasha had been having nervous palpitations at the thought of the extended family coming together. It was Max’s sixth birthday and the whole family were gathering in Putney for a barbecue in Tasha and Charlie’s garden. Both the Nelsons and the Hargreaves were descending en masse for the occasion: Tasha’s parents Lizzie and Bertie and her younger sister Chloe had all come from Surrey whilst Charlie’s parents, Stephen and Caroline, had driven from Norfolk. Tasha and Charlie’s sister-in-law, Becca, was also there along with her two children Daisy and Fergus. The only members of the two families who were notable by their absence were Tasha’s youngest sister Ella, who was away travelling, and Charlie’s older brother Andrew, who was in the army and currently on tour.

  Tasha knew it was going to be extremely noisy and chaotic. Her fear of being judged ensured that she had broken her back cleaning and tidying the house in preparation for her mother-in-law’s somewhat unforgiving eye. Luckily, Charlie was at his best as the host – generous to a fault and always charming no matter who he was entertaining. He had a lovely self-deprecating sense of humour and was wonderful with children of all ages. He was also extremely good at barbecuing whatever Tasha threw his way. Tasha had been up since the crack of dawn rustling up vast bowls of Ottolenghi-style salads to go with the meat, already marinated overnight and ready to go. She had made a huge pavlova covered in fresh berries and a Spiderman cake for Max, covered in red icing with a carefully drawn web dragged across it. She had positioned Max’s favourite Spiderman toy in the centre as if suspended from dental floss webbing. Despite having been perilously close to throwing the entire work of art in the bin whilst trying to attach the floss to Spiderman’s wrists, she was glad she had persevered and felt pleased with her efforts.

  ‘Wow, sis, I’m impressed!’ Chloe said as she peered at the cake. ‘Where did you get that idea?’

  ‘Pinterest. I bloody hope Max likes it!’

  ‘He’ll love it! I don’t know how you can be so amazing at baking when I am so crap.’

  They went out into the garden with a huge jug of freshly-refilled Pimm’s and joined the gaggle of people sprawled out on rugs across the grass. Tasha and Charlie had bought the house when they were first married. They had been lucky to find somewhere with such an enormous garden, despite the fact that it had resembled an overgrown jungle, completely neglected by the previous owners. It was extremely rare in London to have so much outdoor space and it had become Tasha’s pride and joy. She hadn’t realised just how much she would come to enjoy gardening as she had lovingly cleared, dug, sowed and planted every square inch of soil. In fact, she had lavished far more attention on her plants than she had on the house itself. It gave her immense pleasure to watch the garden bloom and unfurl, especially at this time of year, and she loved involving the children with it too. They all had a patch of earth to plant and she had helped them choose their own seeds. The fruit on the apple tree at the end of her garden was beginning to ripen and the roses were out in abundance – proudly displaying their shocking pink petals to the world.

  ‘Thank goodness the forecast was wrong,’ Charlie said as she gave him the jug of Pimm’s. He added it to the makeshift drinks table they had erected next to the barbecue.

  Tasha had had minor heart failure the previous day when the forecast had shown rain all day long. She couldn’t cope with the thought of everyone cooped up inside the house. It was spacious enough for a family of five at a push, but that was about it. Tasha looked up at the sky as a cloud flitted across the sun. ‘I think we’re going to be lucky,’ she said, telling herself off for worrying so much about today. It was going perfectly well so far; everyone appeared to be on their best behaviour.

  Soon the garden was filled with the smoky smell of sizzling meat: sausages, burgers and marinated chicken. Tasha’s mum, Lizzie, came bustling over. ‘Darling, I’ve just been inside – those salads look to die for! And don’t even get me started on that incredible cake!’ Lizzie had never been much of a cook herself. She always marvelled at Tash’s culinary ability.

  ‘Thanks, Mum. I think we’re just about ready to eat actually. Right, everyone, help yourselves!’ Tasha called as she carried through a large dish piled high with meat off the barbecue. They all traipsed into the kitchen to load their plates.

  After tea and birthday cake, the various family members piled into cars to drive back home. Max had been absolutely delighted with his cake. His beaming grin covered in chocolate was all the reward Tasha needed to feel that her Bake-Off-worthy endeavours had been worth the effort. It had been a lovely day, but she was exhausted. There was a mountain of tidying, cleaning and washing-up to do, not to mention getting the children ready for the following day at school. Sticking to her resolution, she was determined to get them to pack their bags in advance, identifying possessions and ensuring homework and reading had been duly completed. Charlie had left her in charge of it all whilst he went upstairs to work. She couldn’t help the sneaking suspicion that whatever it was that was so urgent could probably have waited until after the children were asleep.

  Determined to snatch at least a quarter of an hour for herself, she left Charlie in charge of sorting out their dinner while she indulged in a relaxing bath.

  When she got out of the water she could smell the bacon sizzling; he had clearly decided on bacon and eggs, his speciality. Inspired by her recent sort-out, Tasha went into the bedroom and selected a particularly pretty set of aquamarine lingerie. She almost felt nervous to put it on. As she pulled on her dressing gown she felt worried about Charlie’s reaction. Would he think she was trying too hard? Might he laugh at her and make fun of her for wearing it? She knew it was extremely unlikely but she couldn’t help the thoughts entering her mind. She got halfway down the stairs before she turned around and went back into the bedroom. She took off the lingerie and put her pyjamas on instead, her heart pounding strangely fast. What was she thinking? They just weren’t that kind of couple any more – seducing each other was a thing of the past. She was cringing slightly and glad that she had saved herself the potential embarrassment of Charlie’s reaction.

  Later that night, as they lay in bed, she tried to remember the last time they had made love. It had been so long, she could hardly recall it. She snuggled over to Charlie and said goodnight. He kissed her and she moved a little closer, pressing herself up against him, giving him the cue. He ignored her, moving away and turning onto his front, as far away from her in the bed as it was possible to get. ‘Night, babe,’ he said. Within minutes he was snoring lightly while she was left feeling miserable and rejected. Her eyes filled with tears as she tried to go to sleep, a sinking feeling churning at the bottom of her stomach.

  Chapter Five

  Tasha turned up at her Pilates class slightly breathless. She had forgotten that Max’s class were meant to be dressing up as Romans and so had run back home to rustle up a toga with a bed sheet and a belt before dropping it off at school in a flurry of apologies. Tasha found her spot, kindly reserved by Flo, and joined in the warm-up. She had started Pilates after Flora was born, knowing how often she had recommended it to patients as part of their post-partum recovery and keen to try it out for herself. A friend of hers had told her about a community class run by a volunteer and open to the public, with particular support for new mothers. Realising that her core could do with some serious strengthening, not to mention her pelvic floor, Tasha had dragged Flo along, grumbling and complaining to begin with, but to her credit she kept going with the classes each week. As a reward they treated themselves to a sandwich afterwards, or a salad if they were feeling virtuous, and more often than not a glass of wine. It had become a ritual that Tasha relied on to stay sane, and a perfect opportunity to catch up and have a good old chat with her friend. Tasha and Flo were both part of a big group of friends from school. They were all in touch regularly on their WhatsApp group, sharing pictures and videos of their kids’ more hilarious moments and generally keeping everyone up to date with
the various goings-on in each other’s lives.

  ‘Is it just me or is the class getting harder?’ Flo asked as they rolled up their mats.

  ‘I think Jodie might well be upping the ante!’ Tasha laughed. Jodie’s micro hot pants had proved to be a source of endless fascination for Flo and Tasha.

  ‘Can she bloody not? It was difficult enough in the first place. I can’t hold a plank for three minutes – is she joking?’

  ‘Me neither! I face planted on the mat after about twenty seconds…’ Tasha chuckled at Flo’s outraged expression. ‘Now where shall we go today? Joe’s?’

  ‘Let’s try the new place. Has it been a wine kind of week?’ Flo asked.

  ‘Absolutely,’ Tasha replied. ‘You?’

  ‘Afraid so.’

  *

  As they sat down Flo summoned the waiter and ordered two large glasses of rosé. It was a beautiful day so they had chosen a small table on the pavement in front of the restaurant, both keen to catch the sun at any opportunity. This was the one moment in the week Tasha always made the effort to carve out for herself: Pilates and a quick bite of lunch. The rest of the week always seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye, lost in the frantic struggle to keep things ticking over, to ensure all members of the household were fed, clean and in the right place at the right time. Tasha never knew what happened to her time, all she knew was that there was never enough of it. It seemed as though the moment she got home from the school run she had to leave again, rushing around like a headless chicken in between.

  ‘Ah, I needed this.’ Flo sighed as she took a big gulp of wine. ‘Mark has been away with work all week – there’s nothing like full-time parental responsibility to drive me to drink. Hats off to all the single parents out there. I don’t know how they do it.’

  ‘Hear, hear. I forgot it was Roman day for Max and had to race home to rustle up a toga – hence my late arrival. Poor Max was in floods of tears. He was the only one who arrived in school uniform. I felt like such a bad mother…’

  ‘Not bad, just busy.’

  ‘I suppose… Do you ever imagine what life would be like without them?’ Tasha asked wistfully.

  ‘Do I ever? All the bloody time!’

  ‘I saw Rosie on Friday.’

  Flo and Rosie had been bridesmaids at Charlie and Tasha’s wedding. ‘How is she?’

  ‘She’s really well. Her life is just so different from ours… It’s bizarre to think how life would be without children. Imagine being single even. You literally would have no one else to think about apart from yourself. It’s crazy!’

  Flo laughed at the thought. ‘“Yourself” is the very last person we think about. There’s just no time!’

  ‘I read a brilliant article on Facebook last night about the “mental load” of a mother. It summed it up perfectly. It explained how even if your kids are at school, or you are at work, the inner monologue of thoughts your mind processes as a mother is incessant. Have the children grown out of their school shoes? Did you remember to let the school know about the playdate? When was the last time they went to the dentist? Have you ordered more washing powder in the weekly shop? Did you send a birthday card to your father-in-law? Try as you might to tune it out or even switch it off, it’s impossible to ignore. The mental state of a mother is constantly on alert. No wonder we are all so bloody knackered!’

  ‘I love that! It’s so true!’ Flo nodded in agreement as she warmed to the theme. ‘Men are totally different. Get up, eat breakfast, leave the house, work, get home, eat, go to bed. They only think about the task in hand.’

  ‘Even if a woman goes back to work full-time, she is usually still the one “in charge”. Basically, whoever shoulders the responsibility of running the household never escapes the mental workload. It’s exhausting!’

  ‘Thank God for wine,’ Flo said, chinking her glass against Tasha’s. ‘At least we have wine.’

  ‘I know!’ Tasha laughed. ‘It’s terrible how much I look forward to a glass of wine each evening. By about half five I start thinking about it, and by the time the children have gone to bed I am actually desperate for my first sip. I’m making myself have at least one night off every week just to make sure I don’t become too dependent.’

  ‘That’s not a bad idea. Perhaps I should do the same.’ As their Cobb salads arrived Flo announced, ‘So… Mrs Perfect has been at it again…’ Flo’s children were roughly the same age as Tasha’s. One of their favourite pastimes involved comparing stories about all the different mums they came across in their respective schools.

  ‘Oh, God!’ Tasha said. ‘What’s she done now?’

  ‘She hand decorated thirty cupcakes with portraits of each child in the class. Personalised portraits. She even got Megan’s freckles and glasses in, for Christ’s sake! Megan saved her cupcake to bring home so that she could show me. She thought it was so beautiful she couldn’t even bear to eat it. All iced by hand.’

  ‘No!’ Tasha gasped. ‘That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!’

  ‘Tell me about it!’

  ‘Who has the time?’

  ‘The worst thing is that she works full-time as well. I saw her in the playground yesterday – she picks them up one day a week. I asked her how she managed it…’

  ‘Go on?’

  ‘She told me she stayed up ‘till two a.m. to finish them.’

  ‘That’s dedication for you!’

  ‘I swear it’s a competitive thing. She just wants the rest of us to feel like shit, to feel like no matter how hard we try we are never going to be as perfect as she is. I mean, iced portraits, for Christ’s sake. How am I ever going to match that?’

  ‘You don’t need to!’ Tasha laughed. ‘There’s always one. We just need to use them to entertain ourselves, not allow them to make us feel bad.’

  ‘Megan’s already asked me if I can do the same for her birthday. I had to explain that even if I could bake there was absolutely no way I would be able to do that. Poor Megan and her shop-bought cupcakes from Waitrose.’

  ‘At least they are from Waitrose!’ Tasha laughed.

  ‘I might buy them from Iceland next time – can you imagine the look on the other mums’ faces? The number of Es on the back of the packet would make them hyperventilate!’

  ‘Oh, go on, I dare you!’

  ‘Don’t encourage me…’ Flo laughed.

  *

  When Tasha got home, having detoured via Sainsbury’s for some last-minute groceries, she unloaded the shopping before setting about stripping the beds. It had been at least three weeks since she had got around to changing the sheets. She hoovered as much of the house as she could, keeping an eye on the time. At five past three she grabbed her jacket and her bag, determined to make it in time for the pickup from school. She couldn’t help but laugh as she thought of Flo trying to compete with the portrait cupcakes. What was the world coming to? she wondered.

  As she closed the front door behind her she noticed Javier on his doorstep across the road. He had clearly just got back from work. He was a senior registrar in an Accident and Emergency department and, unsurprisingly, he looked exhausted.

  ‘Hi!’ she called, giving him a cheery wave as she locked up.

  ‘Hi, Tasha,’ he said, pausing and turning to look at her. She loved the way he said her name – his Spanish accent added a lyrical touch. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Great, thanks!’ she replied. ‘You?’

  ‘Shattered!’

  ‘Busy shift?’

  ‘I should have been home hours ago…’

  ‘You poor thing. Staffing issues again?’

  ‘You bet. Overcrowded, not enough staff, ridiculous waiting times, a record number of drunk injuries, and a stabbing to top it all off.’

  ‘Oh my God. Horrific.’

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to retrain?’ Javier smiled. They often chatted about the possibility of Tasha re-entering the world of medicine. ‘I know… it’s tempting, right?’

  ‘Mmm
m…’ Tasha laughed. ‘I hope you manage to get some rest,’ she called as she rushed off down the street.

  Talking to Javier was often a good reminder of the distinctly unglamorous reality of working for the NHS. She might regret having given it up, but would she really want to re-enter that world? Perhaps there was something else she could do that would give her purpose, independence, her own income… She checked the time and sped up as she realised she was cutting it rather fine.

  Chapter Six

  Tasha slumped on a mossy tree stump and burst into noisy sobs. Buzz and Bean, her parents’ terriers, paused for a moment to look at her quizzically, before resuming their thorough exploration of the surrounding woodland. They were in Surrey for the weekend. The children were busy building a den with Charlie and Bertie, and Lizzie had rushed off to a parish council meeting. Tasha, needing to get away from Charlie and the kids and regroup, had taken advantage of the rare opportunity for solace, offering to walk the dogs.

  The journey down had tested her already limited patience to breaking point. It was an unfeasibly warm day and the air-conditioning unit was not working, a job that Charlie had been promising to sort for ages, the car being one of the increasingly few items under his remit. The children had been hot and bothered, the car seeming to magnify the heat of the sun like a miniature greenhouse. They had become increasingly fractious the longer they had been cooped up inside, desperate to escape the minute they’d arrived. Tasha and Charlie had argued about the air-conditioning. ‘The car is your one job, why can’t you just bloody do it?’ she had muttered through gritted teeth.