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“Paula?...Darling, please...please open the door and let me in. I’m sorry, honey!”
He paused and listened for any sound, any indication of movement from within their bedroom but everything remained silent. Tom had overstepped a line, many lines in fact, earlier and he knew that now, had known it almost as soon as the words had left his mouth.
Earlier that evening
“Tom, could you please stop leaving all your stuff lying around? I spend more time each day cleaning up after you than I do anything else. Even Emmy and Ben are more tidy than you,” Paula said as she picked up another empty glass her husband had left standing around in the middle of the dining table. Her voice was laced with annoyance and had he looked up, he might have seen the dark circles under her eyes and the general fatigue emanating from her body.
“Sure, sorry,” Tom mumbled, not once looking up from his ipad where he was scrolling through yet another script or interview or e-mail. She didn’t know and, in all honesty, neither did she care.
He had been gone all day, leaving Paula alone with one teething set of twins and one stressed out set of twins as Benjamin and Emiliana were currently revising for their big Year 6 exams. Tom had gone to lunch instead; lunch with possible directors, with fellow actors, discussing potential scripts and projects and charity events while sipping champagne and eating at a fancy restaurant near Berkeley Square Gardens.
Once he had arrived home, he had briefly checked on the children, had eaten dinner, had left his dirty dishes on the worktop right next to the open dishwasher, and moved on to the living room. His laptop and diary were currently lying on the sofa destined to be jumped on by either Emmy or Ben and his whiskey glass was sitting atop Paula’s music sheets for her piano lessons.
She didn’t mind looking after the children and neither did she mind cooking and keeping the house up and running. What she did mind, however, was being taken for granted or, even worse, ignored.
With a huff of annoyance though without any further comment, Paula grabbed a glass of wine and, after rescuing her music sheets from potential whiskey stains, she picked up her book, left the baby monitors for Max and Sophie in front of Tom on the coffee table, and set off towards her favourite spot, their hammock in the conservatory at the back of the house.
Silence settled in the house, uncomfortable silence for one and welcome silence for the other. It didn’t last long, though, as soon enough the first crying and whimpering noises echoed from one of the baby monitors. Paula didn’t move. Not because she didn’t want to soothe her children’s pain but because Tom was indeed capable of doing that, too, especially now that he was finally home.
“Paula, could you go and look what’s wrong? I’m busy.” Tom sounded annoyed and only briefly glanced up from his ipad. Paula remained where she was.
Another few minutes passed - the crying had grown louder - and mumbling to himself, Tom finally got up from the sofa. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“When you go upstairs, make sure you take one of the frozen dummies upstairs with you. They like sucking on that, it soothes their irritated gums,” Paula said rather coolly when he appeared next to her, the baby monitor firmly in his hands. “Given that you still know where the fridge is, of course,” she added flippantly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?,” Tom growled, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He was tensed up, Paula could see that but she was done taking a step back. She mattered, too.
Slowly, she closed her book, took another sip of her wine and placed the elegant glass on the low table beside her before she looked up. “I think you know what I meant, Tom. I’m not sure why but you’re treating me like a servant at the moment and no longer like your wife or the mother of your children. Don’t get me wrong, I love our children very much and I love looking after the house and making it comfy for all of us. But I need some support from you, too.” She hesitated for a moment, awaiting his defense although she had plenty more to say to him.
Tom exhaled loudly. “Oh excuse me that I am busy all day earning the money that you spend. I’ve got a lot of potential new projects lined up right now and I need to focus on these to be able to make the right decision and to get the best conditions. Maybe I should stop working and rather stay at home to help you clean and cook,” he replied somewhat angrily and Paula raised her eyebrows as she got up.
“Don’t you dare dismiss what I do all day as if it’s nothing, Thomas. I am keeping this house in order, I am making sure that our children have clothes on their bodies and food in their bellies. I study with Ben and Emmy for their Year 6 exams - in case you have remembered that they’re coming up soon - as their results will determine which school they can go to next year. And while I do that, while I check English homework and Maths and History, I also look after Max and Sophie who are teething at the moment and who need their parents by their side. But how could you know about any of that when you’re gone all day eating fancy food at fancy places only to come home and ignore us all.”
She was furious with him and she was tired and exhausted which made her even more furious. It was different when he was actually working, shooting a film or rehearsing for a play or when he was racing around London from one premiere or press junket to another. She had always supported him and she always would. Right now, though, he was under no obligation to turn up on set or for an interview and she knew that, no matter what he said, he would indeed be able to be home more often if he so wished. And that made her angry.
“I am not ignoring you, Paula,...” he begun but his wife merely pointed at the baby monitor.
“Then how come your son has been crying for almost 6 minutes now without you ever attempting to go upstairs and check on him?,” Paula simply asked, her voice low and quiet, laced with disappointment.
She gave him no opportunity to reply but merely grabbed the baby monitor and left him standing on his own in their conservatory to go and look after their crying baby son.
Taking a deep breath, Tom looked up towards the sky. Snow fell in thick flakes from the clouds and covered the glass roof above him. He felt like crying.