It was after I’d had our second child that I knew I needed to put some real effort into passing my driving test. I couldn’t rely on John and having two children to travel with would be trickier – I needed this.
Our second daughter was two years old when I took my test – and passed. I was so happy! Mainly because I now no longer needed John for anything. I was working, I had savings and I could now drive. I was in a position to leave if I wanted to – or so I told myself.
I didn’t message John. I called my Mum and messaged my brothers and sister in law, but I didn’t message John. I could care less if he knew.
He eventually texted me several hours later with: ‘well?’
I replied: ‘well what?’
‘Did you pass?’
‘Yes’
‘Whoop whoop!!’
I didn’t respond.
I don’t remember that evening – what was said. I just remember that that was a Tuesday. On the Sunday that same week, I took the car for the first time – just me and the girls – to drive to church. I remember being really nervous, but I wanted to do it. I was as careful as could be, worrying the whole time if there would be a parking space. There was and it was fine – we arrived in one piece.
After church, I was happy to be able to drive my Mum back to hers. I pulled into the close and saw a space on the verge – easy. I went to turn around and my Mum said “Why don’t you park there?” suggesting a bay. I shrugged my shoulders and thought I could do it. So, I went to turn again, this time catching the door on the corner of the raised flower bed. The scraping of the metal went right through me and again when I had to pull forwards to release the car from its grip.
My eldest was almost 6 years old and piped up with: “Mummy, I don’t understand how they said you could pass your test if you don’t know how to park.” I could see my Mum trying not to laugh as I turned and yelled at her – “SHUT UUUUPPPPP!!!”
For the record, I don’t normally talk to my children like that, but I was now scared of having to bring this to John.
I slowly parked the car where I had originally intended to, wondering why on earth I had listened to my Mum in the first place. I asked her to take the girls inside. She told me it would be okay. I knew it wouldn’t.
When they left I texted John. My eyes were hot and stinging and I was trying very hard not to fall apart. I told him what had happened. He didn’t respond.
I went inside and stayed at my Mum’s for a bit, but I couldn’t enjoy the time. I kept looking at my phone. Nothing. I messaged again asking why he hadn’t replied.
‘What do you expect me to say? Yet another expense that I’m going to have to pay for!’
I cried.
When we eventually got home, John didn’t say a word to me. He just picked up his keys and went to inspect the car. When he came back in, he was even angrier.
I asked him to say something.
“What do you want me to say?” He yelled. “You’ve wrecked the car!! Where am I supposed to find the money to pay for that??!”
“So you’ve never made a mistake then?” I shot back.
“Not like that!!!”
He stormed out of the room, I cried some more and he didn’t speak to me for about a week.
This Can't Be Love 