The Burning by M. R. Hall Read Free Book Online Page A

to take a mouthful of wine, enjoying telling
his story, ‘and certainly if your measure of success is the ability to squeeze a middle-aged body into a pair of pink jeans or give the world’s limpest handshake, these guys had made
it.’ He held up his hand, anticipating her protest. ‘And before you tell me I’m being a macho idiot, I was actually fine with all that. The problem was, none of it felt real.
They’d all give you the same placid smile, but there was no one behind it. And they all talked in the same creepy, measured way. There’s “Call me Vicky” busy telling us
we’ve got to be “whole people” – whatever that means – and all the while I’m surrounded by these empty shells whose personalities have gone missing.’
    Jenny slid deeper into the water, wriggling her shoulders beneath the warm surface. ‘You do sound a bit of a macho idiot.’
    ‘We each had to give our definition of perfect mental health. I told them I thought it was being able to live with your own stink.’
    ‘That’s nice.’
    ‘It’s true. We’re all messed up to some extent. Healthy people admit it and get on, the others go to Men’s Group.’
    Jenny watched him suddenly get lost in his thoughts and stare intently into space.
    ‘So you’re feeling better now?’ she asked.
    ‘Hmm?’ He looked at her vacantly.
    ‘Are you happy?’
    ‘Much more for seeing you.’ He dipped his fingers into the water and brushed her knee. ‘Do you think you might have room for one more in there?’
    ‘We’ll see. Let me finish my wine.’
    Snug beneath the thick winter duvet, they lay for a long while in peaceful silence, Michael telling her all she needed to hear in the way he gently stroked her hair. She liked
the way he was content just to be with her in these moments. Her ex-husband, David, had always angled for words of reassurance or praise after their rare moments of intimacy, never realizing that
if you had to fish for them, they weren’t worth having. She reached out and touched the back of her hand to Michael’s chest, feeling its slow rise and fall.
    ‘I’m glad you came,’ she said.
    ‘So am I.’ He leant over and kissed her softly on the lips. ‘And I’m sorry you were alone at Christmas.’
    ‘It’s OK. I don’t much like it anyway. I should have copied Ross and taken off to the sun somewhere.’
    ‘You’re missing him, aren’t you?’ Michael said.
    ‘I can’t blame him for staying away, especially after one of my cases nearly cost him his life last year. I should just be grateful he survived.’
    ‘You were only doing your job.’
    ‘If I were him, I’m not sure I could ever forgive me.’
    ‘Hey, don’t cry.’
    ‘I’m not.’
    He drew a finger across her cheek and Jenny felt the dampness on her skin. ‘What’s that?’
    ‘I always wanted to be a good mother. I tried. Honestly, I did. I was never going to be the stay-at-home kind, but I at least thought he might be proud of me one day.’
    ‘Even if he isn’t now, he will be. Think how much you’ve achieved.’
    ‘But I’ve never made him feel secure, never made him feel loved the way he wanted – not like a proper mother does.’
    Michael stroked his fingers along her neck and shoulders. ‘I don’t think there’s any such thing as a proper mother. It’s a myth designed to make women feel bad about
themselves.’
    ‘It works.’
    ‘Don’t you think it’s time to move on from that now? The one thing I did take from therapy was that raking over the past gets you nowhere.’
    ‘I try, but it feels like unfinished business.’
    ‘Everything’s unfinished business. While we’re still here there’s no other kind.’
    Jenny drifted into silence, asking herself if she really could forgive herself and move on. The thought of a life without Ross’s affection felt like wandering through a desert.
    ‘It will all work out, I promise you,’ Michael said, and Jenny allowed herself to believe him.
    She rolled onto her side and