Page 31 of My Husband’s Wife

Thirty

Madison

Madison glances at the clock on the wall behind her client.

Being pregnant was a miracle, that’s for sure.

Or was it simply biology? She was going with biology with miraculous undertones.

‘I adore this mistletoe-berry red,’ she said to Christie, one of her regular customers, while trying not to think about the nauseous churning in her gut.

It’s typical; she’s a beautician, a hairdresser and a nail technician.

Why couldn’t she have an aversion to sausages instead of nail polish or nail polish remover?

And why were her assistants, Orla and Tammy, both at lunch at the same time?

‘Are you okay? Your green complexion isn’t exactly complementing your red hair. You look more Christmassy than my nails,’ Christie replies, her head tilting in sympathy.

Chuckling, Madison waits for Christie’s nails to cure under the lamp. ‘It’s the nail varnish. I thought the sickness went after a few weeks; I’ve been sick all the way through.’

‘That sucks. It happened to me too. I bet that little bun in the oven will be out soon.’

Madison places a loving hand on her bump.

‘And Mummy can’t wait because Mummy would like to not have to pee every five minutes; she’d like to be able to cut her own toenails and she’d definitely love a glass of wine.

’ She grimaces. She intends to breast feed so wine might be out of the question for a long time.

‘Weather’s a bit yuck at the moment.’

‘It is,’ Madison says for the fourth time that day. It’s still grey and there is still a frost on the road outside, but then again, it’s early December. What did anyone expect?

‘Have you been on holiday this year?’ Christie asks.

Another question that always gets asked. ‘Yes, we stayed in Loch Ness.’

‘Did you see the monster?’ Christie chuckles.

Madison forces a smile. It’s pretty obvious she didn’t see a monster because the monster is a myth as far as she’s concerned, but she’s learned never to express an opinion, because that would result in losing customers. ‘I saw a monster.’

Christie scrunches her brows. ‘Tell me more.’

Madison shakes her head. ‘Only joking.’ But she’s not joking.

She knew it had been a tall order getting Theo to go on holiday, what with his agoraphobia.

If he had it his way, he’d never leave the house; but she had needed to leave the house before she went insane; anyway, if he couldn’t leave the house, what had all the therapy been for?

What she hadn’t banked on was him leaving her alone in Loch Ness with no phone signal, in the middle of nowhere, for a whole night, in a creaky cottage.

He’d left a note that said, ‘I need some space’.

On his return, he apologised profusely, saying he had some sort of anxiety meltdown and didn’t want to upset her.

What kind of monster leaves someone alone with no way out, no provisions, and no phone and car, with no word on when they’d be back?

So much for his agoraphobia. She remembered having her hiking bag packed the next day, just before his return.

It was only seven miles to civilisation, but still, it was far enough.

‘Right, you can remove your hands now.’ She grabs the cuticle oil, ready to massage it in.

Speak of the devil. The door rings as Theo walks in, carrying a box of something she knows she’ll find yummy. He’s frowning and that bothers her. ‘Excuse me a moment, Christie.’

She leaves her client and leads Theo to the other side of the salon, knowing that Christie can still see them through all the mirrors. He thrusts the box at her. ‘Pasta salad,’ is all he says.

Madison takes the lunchbox and places it on one of the empty salon chairs. ‘Thank you. Is everything okay?’

His brow is a little damp with perspiration. He removes his glasses and begins massaging his tired looking eyes. ‘It’s the photo.’

With furrowed brows, she waits for him to elaborate. ‘What photo?’

He pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through her Facebook page. ‘This.’

He holds it up in front of her face.

‘Faye’s wedding hair?’ Madison is proud of her work. It’s one of the best she’s ever done, which is why she chose to show it off on her page, and it’s the only photo she took. She had planned to put that photo onto her website too.

He jabs at the phone with his index finger. ‘That’s me, in the corner.’

So that’s what his mood was about. He’d popped into frame just as she snapped the photo. ‘No one’s looking at you. It’s about the hair. You’re barely in it and does it matter really?’

He starts speaking in a hushed voice but she knows that Christie can probably hear them.

‘It matters to me. You know I don’t really like social media.

We’ve discussed this.’ No, he discussed it.

She knows he has issues, but him being an arsehole right now has nothing to do with his agoraphobia, and she’s also aware that he has an Instagram account.

‘And I have a business to run and this is stupid.’

‘Take it down.’

He’s shaking. For my own sanity, I’m going to make him face this part of his irrational self.

‘No, so please don’t ask me again because you’re wasting your time and mine.

’ This isn’t how a loving couple should speak to each other, Madison knows, but she also knows she has to speak her mind, otherwise she’ll bottle things up and explode later.

She places her hands over her huge belly and feels baby Emily kicking hard.

‘Look, I don’t need any stress right now, okay?

I don’t know whether you’ve forgotten. But I’m carrying your baby. We can talk about this at home later.’

‘Take it down.’

‘Get some help. You need it.’ She hated saying that but it was true.

He looks like he wants to say more but instead he takes a few breaths before turning away from her and storming out.

She stares at her reflection in the mirror.

Gone is the bubbly, glowing pregnant woman.

In her place is someone with glassy eyes and a slight tremor.

She hates confrontation but it’s become too regular with Theo.

She loves him, though, so she’ll keep pushing him out of his comfort zone until he gets better.

As she opens the lunchbox, her stomach churns at the smell of tuna and pasta and she knows it will have to go in the bin.

There’s nothing like a bit of bickering to ruin an appetite.

She walks back to the other side where Christie remains in her seat.

‘I’m sorry you had to hear that. I’ll give you a discount because that can’t have been nice.

’ She pauses, not knowing if Christie is happy with her offering.

She doesn’t want to lose her as a customer or end up with a bad online review.

‘Men.’ Madison shakes her head and smiles.

‘Bloody men,’ Christie says. ‘No need for the discount. Good on you for saying what you thought.’

The rest of the day is a blur. Madison still can’t believe that Theo came in and spoke to her like that with a client in the salon, all because of a stupid photo.

She parks up outside the cottage and has a little flashback to the first few times she came to this cottage with her broken laptop.

He’d admitted not fixing it properly so she’d come back, which in itself was a bit devious.

He could have just asked her out on a date and explained that he had agoraphobia.

She was smitten with him on first sight.

He was gorgeous and she’d been single for over a year.

But the house looked unloved, dark and brooding, just like he was.

He was her man of mystery, a man who didn’t like to discuss his past or what trauma led to him being such a recluse.

Then he told her about the terrible accident, the one where his twin sister, Emily, had died, along with his parents, all because his mother had fallen asleep in their house with a lit cigarette in her mouth – and it melted her heart.

Madison knew from then that he needed care and love if he was to ever come out of his shell.

Now, as she gets out of the car, she pats her belly, knowing that their Emily is going to be the most loved little girl in the whole world.

He waves from the window with Buster, their Lhasa Apso, under one arm, yapping away. She’d rescued Buster four years ago and when she moved in with Theo, he’d lovingly accepted her gorgeous little furball into his home.

She pushes the creaky gate open and stares at the ivy that is taking over the front of the house.

It won’t be today, but she’ll mention it to Theo.

She wants the place made perfect before Emily’s arrival.

Swallowing, she thinks of their little argument at the salon and she hopes he’s lightened up because although she said they should talk later, she doesn’t want to talk.

As she goes to unlock the door, Theo is already there, a smile on his face.

He wraps his arms around her tightly as Buster yaps for attention at her feet.

‘I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have come in like that, moaning and demanding you take the photo down.’

She inhales a deep mushroom aroma as she hugs him tightly. Their tiff hadn’t sat well with her. ‘I’m sorry too. I should have been a bit less angry.’

He pulls back. ‘No apologies from you. It was all me. If the internet was asking who is the arsehole, or should I say the asshole, in this situation, it would be me. I wanted to make it up to you so I’ve made mushroom risotto.’

She’d craved that dish all through her pregnancy and the thought of eating it made her salivate. ‘Forgiven, asshole,’ she says as she hurries to the kitchen ready to tuck in.

Earlier she’d pondered whether their relationship was over.

She wondered if she’d made the biggest mistake of her life agreeing to marry him, but now she knows it was nothing more than a blip and a part of his condition.

They could work through it because that’s what couples did.

They have to work hard at a relationship; she is learning that lesson fast and hard.