Tara King is a social media strategist and spends her days crafting captions for brand campaigns. She grew up in London and lives in Ealing with her husband and teenage boys. She’s working on a collection of short stories about contemporary marriage.  

Influences include (and this is just a handful) Alice Munro, Jhumpa Lahiri, Tessa Hadley, Katherine Heiny, Lucy Caldwell and Claire Keegan. 

Email: tking003@gold.ac.uk

Twitter: @taraking  

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Everything is fine

The affair began at the start of the year and was over by spring. It started on a chilly January day. Jess had offered to help with her youngest son Toby’s school trip and due to last minute drop outs by other parent volunteers, she now found herself helping escort kids from another class. 

She arrived early to the school office and was perched on a colourful stool checking her socials when a father she only knew as Tom’s Dad came through the reception doors. She had seen him at the school gate before, but as their children were in different classes they had never properly met. He was wearing a jacket that looked expensive and carrying a paperback, which was hopeful considering the day they had ahead. He introduced himself to the receptionist and Jess noticed his voice, the clipped, polite London accent of someone who probably worked in advertising. He had that vibe. She remembered someone saying his wife worked full time as a lawyer or something high-powered. Jess didn’t see her around the school gate much.

When Miss Smart, the primary school teacher in charge that day gathered the parent helpers for the briefing, Jess looked over at Tom’s Dad and was struck by how good looking he was. He glanced up at her, catching her eye and she looked away embarrassed. Then after the briefing as the parent helpers moved apart, he stepped towards her and introduced himself. She found herself holding out her hand for a formal handshake. His hand felt warm and dry in hers.  

“Don’t think you’ll get much time for your book,” she said as the kids bundled into the hall shrieking with excitement and energy and exuding the sweet soapy smell of fresh laundry. 

“You can see I’ve never done this before,” he said with a laugh. 

The school trip set off and they headed down the residential streets as a raggle-taggle group and onto the tube, where Jess found herself ferrying her group of little charges slowly up through the station and down the wide London street and into the museum. Once inside, Jess walked around the exhibition with her group, who clutched their quiz sheets, ticking boxes as they weaved their way through the displays. Jess found herself noticing Tom’s dad as he moved through the exhibition. She liked the way he looked closely at the displays and crouched down to talk to the kids in his group. She imagined her husband Sam on the trip. He’d be galloping around, being loud and funny and making bad jokes. They’d been to this museum before with their children. Sam, Toby and Ben had hurtled through the rooms with no interest in the exhibits, just wanting to get to the shop. Jess had lingered behind for a bit then guiltily caught them up as family outings and making memories was important to Sam. An important part of family life – even if it revolved around a family selfie outside the gift shop. 

At lunchtime, the whole school group bundled into a windowless basement room where the kids sat on the floor fumbling in bags for sandwiches, juice boxes and meaty-smelling crisps. The teachers busied themselves supervising the lunch, giving the helpers a short window of respite. Jess was resting against the wall, her energy levels flagging, when Tom’s Dad approached her. 

 “You look like how I feel,” he said. 

“That obvious?” she said. 

 “I’m going to grab a coffee from the machine. Would you like one?” he said. 

She found herself following him. Following him to the coffee machine which spat out black coffee and steamy milk into a paper cup. 

“Shall we get some air?” he said.
They went outdoors, the cold air cooling her hot cheeks after the farty fug of the lunch room. He told her he had teenage girls and then a younger boy. He’d given up the corporate world for a change of pace and re-trained as a landscape designer. She told him she worked in admin and it was as dull as it sounded. 

“I can’t imagine anything you do being dull.” He said with a laugh. 

Jess felt herself blush.

“I’m so boring these days,” she said with a dry laugh.  “A good night for me is a box set and bottle of wine. I used to be more fun.” 

“Didn’t we all,” he said.

For the remainder of the museum trip they found themselves chaperoning their groups together through the activities and displays. She liked listening to him talk to the kids about the museum. He was patient, interested. The afternoon went fast and soon they were heading back on the long tube home, rewinding their steps through the residential streets to the school.  After depositing the children back into the classroom they headed back out of the school gates.  

“We should do this again,” he said

“A class load of kids to the museum? No thanks,” said Jess.

He laughed. 

“I like talking to you,” he said.

And so it began. 

***

He found her number from a class list. Phone numbers were shared like sweets in parent groups. A text arrived early one Friday morning. She was lying in bed next to Sam.  He’d brought her a cup of tea and they were both silently scrolling their phones before they had to get up and start their days.

A text arrived.

“Hello,” it said.

“Coffee?” it said.

She felt a twinge of excitement.

“Why not?” she said. 

It was only a coffee she thought as she put on some tinted moisturiser and brushed her hair and found the jumper that Sam had told her brought out her eyes.  

She met him on the corner of a quiet residential road in their neighbourhood. 

“Hop in,” he said and she got in obediently, buckling herself into the passenger seat and resting her hands on her thighs. The car smelt of earth, leaves, a sweet smell. There were mints in a tin on the dashboard. Coffee cup wedged into the drinks holder. The heater was on high, rattling out hot, dry air. 

His hands were resting on the steering wheel. He had long, elegant fingers and flat nails. 

 “I need to check out some trees for a client, but we can get coffee there too,” he said. 

“Sounds good,” said Jess. 

They’d driven out to a plant centre.  

And it was by the rows of young, shrubby trees that he was checking out for a client that he turned to her and said:

“You’re very pretty.”

One compliment and she was in. 

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” she found herself saying after they kissed. 

“You’re pretty good for a beginner,” he said. 

She saved his number in her contacts as Miss Smart. During the week the text messages came early in the mornings. He’d text her when he woke up. It was innocent stuff. He’d ask her what she was up to. Did she sleep well. He’d say he was thinking about her. She’d glow when she read those words holding the pleasure inside her. She’d reach for her phone the moment she woke up, swiping open to see if a message had arrived from him. 

“Who’s messaging you so early?” Sam asked her one morning.

“It’s nothing,” she said, “Just some chat on the class group chat,” she said, shutting down her phone and putting it to the side.  She knew it was wrong that she was lying in bed texting him while Sam lay next to her but she couldn’t stop herself. He was her first thought in the morning. She walked to school thinking about him, hoping to see him. At night as she lay in bed feeling Sam’s large solid shape next to her, she found herself imagining being in bed with him instead. 

Jess continued to meet him on Fridays. She’d hop into his car and they’d drive out to a specialist plant nursery to look at shrubs, trees and perennials. They’d sometimes have lunch in a pub, but their dates had an innocence. They’d hold hands as they walked and talked and then fumble around in his car.   

“Is this bad?” she said on their fourth or fifth date.

“We’re both adults,” he said. 

And they hadn’t really done anything, yet. 

“What do you want?” she asked him. 

“No complications,” he said.

But it was over now. It happened one Friday afternoon towards the end of the spring term. It was an unseasonably warm March day. One of those days when the temperatures soared too fast to get out spring clothes, shave and fake tan legs. Everyone was a bit surprised and dazzled by the sunshine. They’d visited a garden centre that morning where he’d priced up some plants for a client, then they headed to the riverside pub and had lunch in the warm spring sunshine. It was an almost perfect day. 

After lunch, he dropped her at the corner of the street and she ran up to the school gate for pick up.  It was when Toby came out of the classroom grinning widely and waving a sheet with a golden star that Jess sensed someone moving towards her with purpose. 

“Hey,” a shrill voice said.

It was Donna, someone Jess generally tried to swerve in case she signed her up to some sort of rota.

“I saw you today!” Donna said. 

Jess felt her lip twitch and tried to smile. She opened her mouth as if to say something… say anything… 

“I saw you out at that garden centre.”

“Oh,” Jess said. Her heart speeding up. Her legs feeling weak. She clutched Toby’s hand. 

 “Don’t worry I’m not spying on you,” Donna said with a laugh. “I’m finally doing up my garden. We’ve been talking about it for years and I’ve persuaded Connor to pay for the work,” Donna said. “It’s nice there, in that garden centre, isn’t it?” 

Jess felt her head bobbing like one of those nodding dog toys. Her smile fixed. 

“Yes, it’s a good one. Great for shrubs,” she said, while stepping backwards, edging away holding Toby’s hand tightly. 

“I’ve got to run to get Ben… sorry,” Jess said.  

“We should have a coffee sometime… catch up,” Donna said with a little laugh. “You can come see my garden when it’s done.”

Jess rushed up to the classroom door where Ben was waiting.  Her heart beating. Sweat prickling her brow. 

“You’re always last, mum,” said Ben.

“I’m sorry,” she said and found herself kneeling and holding him tightly in a hug.

They left the school gate together as a three and headed up the warm streets home. They stopped for an ice-lolly in the local shop. Jess grabbed a fizzy drink, needing the hit of sugar. They walked up the residential street towards home. Jess watched her boys’ soft dark heads bobbing in front of her as they made their way up the pavements. A light breeze sprinkled cherry blossom. The boys laughed, excited, scooping it up and throwing the silky petals at each other. 

“Look it’s snowing mum!”

She imagined a future with Sam taking the boys, confronting her. 

“Why?” he’d ask.

 I was bored and lonely was the truth, but she knew she’d never admit that to Sam. She wouldn’t pop the trust they had, break the bonds of their marriage. Not when the boys were so small. 

So Jess said that was it. She texted him to say they might have been seen and they had to stop. 

“If that’s what you want,” he replied.

She hoped he’d say they should talk or beg to see her but he didn’t. The messages had stopped. They had no contact now. It was as if nothing had ever happened. Nothing had ever really happened apart from a few kisses but Jess felt a deep sadness. Sad for everything she hadn’t experienced with him and sad for what was left. 

Jess deleted his messages. Then removed Miss Smart from her phone. She’d check her phone in the morning out of habit looking at the empty space. Sometimes she scrolled back through the photos to the class trip where he was in one of the photos. She’d zoom in on him until he was grainy. Looking at his face. His hands. 

***

Sam rolled over to cuddle her one morning. His warm arm heavy on her.  

“I’ve got to get up,” she said, moving out from his embrace.  

“Come on. It’s Saturday morning. The boys are watching TV.” This was his code for the sex that Jess couldn’t face.

“I’ve got to clean the bathroom,” she said and left the bed, ignoring his rejected expression.

She was in the shower booth scrubbing the glass when Sam popped his head round the bathroom door. 

“Come to the playground with me and the boys,” he said. “We can grab a coffee on the way.”

“Maybe later. I’m in the middle of this,” she said, holding up her cleaning spray and cloth. 

He stood there looking at her through the glass. She carried on wiping.

“Have I done something wrong?” he asked.

“No,” said Jess. “Of course not. Everything is fine.”

“Okay,” he said and left the bathroom. 

She heard him go down the stairs, the noise of his steps sounded heavy. There was clatter and voices as the boys left for the playground. A few minutes later the door shut. 

She started crying and leant against the glass shower booth. Her tears and snot mixing up. 

“What a mess,” she said to no one. 

Sam must have said something as her mother-in-law called her.

“Everything alright?” she asked. “Sam said you’ve been a bit tired. Let me come over and help with the boys,” she said. 

“I’m alright, honestly,” Jess said. “I promise.”

Her mum then called. “Are you okay?” she said, “You seem off.” 

“I’m fine,” Jess said.

“Nothing going on?” she said and after a pause.

“All good with you and Sam?” 

“Yes fine, mum. For god’s sake. We’re fine.”