The Man I Married

by Elena Wilkes

  He rocked the plate with a bang. ‘Do you want any of this?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Christ, I feel like getting pissed.’ He straightened his shoulders, easing his neck. ‘Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do on your wedding day?’

  There was the hint of something mean. He pushed his chair back and stood, stiffly, holding out his hand to me. I automatically took it. I was aware there were whispers in our direction and I was desperate not to let them see anything was amiss. I forced a broad grin as the waiter bustled over.

  ‘Ah, this way, Mr and Mrs Webb.’ He gestured. ‘Let me show you the lounge area, it’s just through here.’ And he ushered us into a small, very ornate drawing room. The lights were low behind the palm plants in the corner, sending soft fingers of shadow across the walls. Somewhere in the background was the tinkling of a classical piano. We were led over to a low table in the window flanked by high-back comfy chairs. On the table was a silver tray bearing coffee cups and next to them was a plate of tiny delicate chocolates, petit fours, and miniature cookies.

  ‘May I?’ He indicated to the coffee pot on his tray.

  ‘Actually, I think we’d quite like to have another bottle of wine.’ Paul slumped down heavily into the nearest seat. I sat opposite, saying nothing.

  If the waiter thought anything he did a very good job of not showing it. ‘Of course, sir. Would you like the same as the previous bottle, or something a little different?’

  ‘What do you think, darling wife?’ Paul looked at me, challengingly. ‘More of the same?’

  I let the silence tick between us and the waiter inclined his head and moved away.

  I was furious. ‘You’re acting as though I’m the one who’s in the wrong here!’

  ‘Am I?’ He raised a sardonic eyebrow.

  ‘Firstly, you lied about not having a relationship and secondly, you lied about the woman in the car. Now there’s the possibility you’ve got a child, for God’s sake! What the hell do you expect?’

  He only stared insolently back.

  ‘Oh Jesus, I’ve had enough of this!’ I went to get up but he grabbed my arm with such force that my knees buckled. He kept hold of me, sitting on the edge of his seat. His knuckles around my arm were white.

  ‘Okay… Okay… You want the truth, do you? Well here it is!’ A tiny pulse began to throb in the tips of my fingers.

  ‘There was no woman in a car, do you get that? There isn’t and never was any photograph in any drawer. I mean, how ridiculous can you get? What do you take me for – some thirteen-year-old kid?’

  I stared at him defiantly. ‘You’ve moved it.’

  ‘What?’ He gave a bark of laughter. ‘What? I moved what?’

  ‘The photograph. From the drawer in your bedside table.’

  He opened his mouth as though to speak and then stopped. ‘You know how bizarre that sounds Lucy, don’t you?’

  I did. I knew exactly.

  ‘So let’s work through this. We have no photograph of any woman in any drawer, but you’re convinced it’s Caitlin. Caitlin who would be twenty years older than the photograph but who you amazingly recognise outside my flat? Have I got that about right?’

  ‘I saw her, Paul. She was—’

  ‘You didn’t. You know you didn’t. There’s a tiny bit of you that knows you’re wrong but you won’t admit it.’

  I wasn’t sitting listening to this for one second longer. I jerked my arm away and stood up, head swimming, lurching clumsily back through the restaurant, past the surprised diners towards the French windows and the terrace. I pushed through the doors, the wisps of tulle curtain clinging to my shoulders as I floundered out onto the terrace.

  The shock of the evening air hit me, but suddenly I was able to breathe. My fingers skimmed the mossy balustrade as I ran down the first two flights, hearing the sound of Paul’s footsteps close behind me.

  ‘Lucy.’

  I wheeled round at the bottom and nearly fell. ‘Lucy.’ He caught my waist and saved me.

  ‘Can you let go please?’ I stared resolutely into the darkness.

  He loosened his hold. ‘For Christ’s sake, Lucy; you made a mistake, that’s all. What are you getting so uptight about?’

  ‘I didn’t make any mistake.’

  ‘You know you did.’ He let go completely. ‘I can see it in your face, but if you want to walk away, then walk away. I won’t stop you.’

  I stared off into the night. I could’ve run down those steps if I’d wanted to. I could’ve run into the hotel reception and got a cab and been out of there. I took another two steps: one foot in front of the other, moving away from him.

  ‘Is this it then?’ he called after me. ‘You’re going to throw it all away before it’s even started? Is that what you want to do?’

  My feet were moving but my heart wasn’t letting me go that easily. I slowed, realising he was following.

  I drew to a halt. ‘What do you want Paul?’

  ‘Will you do something for me?’

  I watched his imploring face.

  ‘Will you?’

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to do anything right now.

  ‘Will you tell someone – I don’t know, Viv maybe, Emma. Someone you trust – will you tell them all the weird things that you think have been happening: about the rose on the step, the photograph, this woman in the car, the one at the market… Will you tell them the whole story and then ask them what they think?’

  I smarted. I knew what he was trying to do. He purposefully hadn’t mentioned Gould’s name. He didn’t need to. I went to turn and walk away.

  ‘Lucy, will you just listen for one second!’ He held up his hands. ‘I’m not saying you’re mad, I’m just pointing out the bloody obvious. We both know you’re tough and you’re switched on and you’re clever, but you do that God-awful job.’ He moved closer. ‘You’ve been doing that job day after day, no let up, and then out of the blue you’re shoved in front of this highly manipulative, highly sophisticated sex offender who has fixated on you… That’s real, real stress, and then he’s got you in his grasp. Suddenly he’s ringing you, you think he’s hanging about outside, he might even have got one of his mates to do my flat over, he could have left that rose, we don’t know, do we?… But what we do know is he’s playing with your head and you’re caught – bam!’ His face was pleading. ‘He’s definitely got you off-balance. And when you’re under threat, you see threat. It’s a perfectly normal response to a totally abnormal situation.’

  I tried to gauge his face.

  ‘Is any of what I’ve just said remotely possible?’

  I swallowed.

  ‘Is it possible?’ He tried again. ‘Think about it. Is it possible you could have got any of it wrong?’

  ‘It’s possible, but—’ I started.

  He held up his hands. ‘See? Possible. That’s all I’m asking you to consider.’

  Hugging my arms across my body against the growing chill of the evening, I suddenly became aware of the clatter and conversation coming from the restaurant.

  ‘You’re cold.’ He went to put his arm round me, but I shrugged him off.

  ‘I think you’re being a bit unfair now,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Me?’ I snatched a look at him.

  ‘Yes. I’ve tried to confide in you this evening. Lay myself open to you. Tell you stuff that’s really very, very painful.’

  I looked away. His voice became even softer. ‘Shall I tell you what I think is even more unfair?’ He reached forward, gently turning my face so that I was forced to meet his eyes. ‘The reality is, my relationship with Caitlin was a terrible, terrible time in my life. I thought I was in love and I was betrayed. I lost the child she was carrying. I lost my house. I had to beg for my job back. I had no family to call on, and all the friends I knew at Uni went their separate ways. I had nothing. I had to re-invent myself, start from scratch, drag myself out of a hole and begin my life again. I didn’t trust anyone. I didn’t want anyone.
Sure I had a few flings, but no one got close. And we both know what that’s like.’ He stopped and looked directly into my eyes. ‘I thought that was how it would be forever. And then I met you.’ He stopped and took a small step back. ‘And when I met you, I was hoping that I could start again, you know… Have a new life. Leave all that shit behind. I don’t want to keep raking it up every five minutes; I don’t want to keep having to go over and over it, re-living it all the time.’ He rubbed his hands together as though they were cold; the palms stuttered and then he turned them over and studied them. He stared up at me. ‘I’m asking you to start afresh with me. I’m asking you to start again where everything is clean and right and good with the world. I’m asking you to be by my side through all the crap and all the fabulously muddled, wonderful mess that two human beings create when they love each other…’ He stopped, slightly out of breath. ‘Would you be prepared to do that?’

  I looked into his eyes. In the muted lights from the restaurant, the gold glinted on the grey irises like sunlight.

  ‘Will you… I mean, can you forgive me, and do that? I mean, not right now, but eventually… Would you even consider forgiving me?’ He turned his palms upward, pleading.

  Something shifted inside: I’d learned lies and I’d learned truths. My insides were numb. I didn’t know what I could do.

  ‘That’s all I’m asking. Just to consider it.’ He sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I should’ve told you but I was so, so scared. I know how it all sounds. But I love you so much.’ A wash of tears blurred the grey.

  ‘I hate you,’ I said. I put my hand in his.

  ‘I don’t care as long as you’re with me,’ he whispered, pulling me to him, holding my forehead against his own. There was a wave of sadness, of anger, of confusion, and hurt – Hurt for both of us – And questions, questions… more questions… but throughout it all was a deep, deep feeling of weariness.

  I just didn’t want to fight anymore.

  ‘Just say you’ll stay with me. Work through it. See where we go. Will you do that?’

  For a moment I couldn’t answer.

  ‘Will you?’

  I found my head moving slowly against his.

  ‘Is that a yes?’ He shook me a little.

  I nodded.

  ‘Thank God. Thank God.’ He kissed my hairline over and over as my heart cleaved wide and he walked right back in.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘Morning!’ I popped my head round Viv’s door and grinned. ‘It’s me!’

  ‘God! Lucy!’ Viv got up from her desk and enveloped me in a great bear hug. ‘Welcome back!’ She pushed me back by the shoulders and studied my face. ‘I am so, so pleased I gave you that extra time off. It looks like the break has done you good. How are you feeling?’ She gave me a look. ‘Honestly now.’

  ‘I’m raring to go,’ I smiled back.

  ‘Well, you’ve certainly got some colour in your cheeks. Emma says you’ve disappeared off the planet. What have you been up to?’

  ‘Oh this and that,’ I laughed.

  ‘And a bit of the other?’ She squinted teasingly. ‘Go and get yourself settled in and catch up in your own time. There’s no rush. Dave appears to have it all under control.’

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear how fabulous Dave was. I glanced over at his moody shoulders.

  ‘Morning, Dave!’ I called out cheerily. ‘I’ll just grab a coffee and I’ll be straight over!’

  Dave grunted a reply as I went into the tea room to put the kettle on. He was the least of my worries. I glanced at my watch. Emma would be in any minute, and that would be a whole different story. Emma, with her inquisitive eyes and unerring nose. She was the one person I couldn’t bullshit and the one person I’d seriously let down. I was on the hook and I was definitely wriggling. I couldn’t risk her hearing about me and Paul from anyone else. There was only one thing I could do.

  I strode over to her before she even had a chance to take her coat off.

  ‘Lunch?’ I said breezily. ‘My shout. I’ve got stuff to tell you. All I want you to do is listen.’

  She looked shocked, but I knew there was no way she was going to say no.

  Ten minutes to twelve, I went across to the bakery café over the road, found a quiet table and sat and waited. I’d already thought about all the things I was and wasn’t going to tell her. I certainly wasn’t going to tell her how I’d lain awake on my wedding night watching dark shapes shifting on the ceiling, listening to Paul drifting in and out of a restless sleep.

  Caitlin’s face kept coming back to me: the young and smiling woman in the photograph, the dull stare of the woman in the car. There had been a photograph though: I knew, I’d seen it. Could it have got caught up in the bits of paper in there and got thrown out? Was I even sure that was Caitlin? And how sure was I that it was the same person in the car? Twenty years is a long time.

  I was sure of one thing though: I loved Paul. I wanted to believe what he’d told me. None of it painted him in a great light, so maybe it was the truth?… My mind tumbled over and over… I was comforted by the fact that at least I had some answers. The ground, in every respect, had slipped and skewed. The one thing I could cling on to was that, in every respect, I now knew the worst.

  ‘Married? Shut the f—’ Her teaspoon was paused, mid-stir, and she stared at me, utterly gobsmacked. I think she thought this was one of my more peculiar jokes, or had I completely lost it now? Either way she dissolved into a loud squawk of surprise.

  ‘Married! I mean… my God… f’fuck’s sake, Luce. How can you be? Did anyone else know about it?’

  I shook my head, laughing.

  ‘You conniving sly old tart! Why didn’t you say anything?’

  ‘Because I’m a conniving sly old tart.’

  Emma hooted. ‘My God. My God, I knew it!’ She narrowed her eyes at me.

  ‘I knew you were up to something. You were so quiet and off the radar I thought you—’

  ‘You thought I’d gone off my trolley?’

  She had the good grace to blush. ‘I was going to say “were really upset with me”.’ She looked sheepish, but then collected herself. ‘Well, bugger me with a bargepole. Married, eh?… Hang on, hang on… There aren’t any other surprises, are there? I mean, you’re not—’

  I paused and then suddenly worked out what she meant. ‘Oh hell no!’

  I looked aghast. ‘No, I’m not. Definitely not!’

  ‘So when am I going to come round and get to know this delicious lump properly, then?’ She pouted. ‘The man who’s stolen my bezzie. I need to make sure his intentions are honourable.’

  The thought of her coming round made me uneasy, but I grinned anyway. ‘He hasn’t stolen me.’

  ‘So when then?’

  ‘Soon.’

  ‘How soon?’

  ‘They’re doing a bit of work in the flat downstairs at the moment,’ I lied. ‘So as soon as the drilling and dust clouds die down, we’ll have to sort out a date for lunch.’ I knew what Emma would do. It would be a version of a Jeremy Kyle interrogation, and right now, I didn’t have the mental strength.

  ‘Hang on, so you’re not at your flat then? Hell, he must be worth it!’

  ‘It’s just easier… And cooler,’ I added with a laugh. ‘He lives in Belsize Park.’

  ‘Ooo nice!’ She widened her eyes appreciatively. ‘So you’ll sell yours then?’ It was a sensitive question: she knew exactly how I’d feel and I knew her antennae would be twitching. Sell my flat? It hadn’t crossed my mind.

  ‘Or maybe you don’t need to. Maybe you’re so minted now.’ She let me off the hook, smirking mischievously over her coffee cup. ‘But I’ll want an up-to-date progress report on the building work then. Hour by hour if necessary.’

  ‘I’ll get on to the project manager,’ I smirked back, picking up my own cup to hide my thoughts.

  ‘I told you it would be amazing.’

  I remembered Paul’s words from this morning as we left the flat.


  ‘What’s that?’ I looked at him in surprise. ‘The joy of the first day back? You are joking aren’t you?’

  ‘No, idiot. Having the wedding with just the two of us. Why would we have ever wanted anyone there? Every moment was perfect.’

  We made our way down the stairs. I tried really hard to keep all the other not so perfect moments from flooding back.

  ‘And now it’s just us. I can’t tell you the sheer bliss at the thought of coming home tonight and closing the door and shutting the world out. You know, I’d be perfectly happy never having to socialise again. God. How wonderful would that be, eh?’ He reached forward and tucked a stray strand of my hair back. ‘You’ll need to sort that when you get into work by the way.’ My hand instinctively came up and he watched as I struggled to tuck it back into the hairband. We stepped out onto the pavement and walked towards the car. He caught my arm.

  ‘Look, can we make a promise that at least we’ll have a honeymoon period with just us – Like no friends or family or work people?’

  I knew by that he meant Emma.

  ‘Where we just stay at home and see no one – at least just until after we’ve had a real honeymoon a bit later on in the year?… Can we say that? Please… Can we promise?’

  I’d agreed. Why did I do that? But all the time I was wondering how I’d feel once I’d seen Emma again… And right this minute, I realised just how much I’d missed her.

  ‘You know I’ll be chomping at the bit, don’t you?’ Her squawk jolted me back to the present.

  ‘I’ve actually missed you, you old bat.’ I deflected, making a sad face as her own lit up into a brilliant beaming smile.

  ‘Oh, I’ve been hoping you’d say that! Let’s make it soon then, shall we?’

  ‘Absolutely we will. Just give me a week or so and I’ll sort it.’

  I hid my face in the cup again and pretended to drink the last of my tea. Thankfully she was distracted by a good-looking guy who had just strolled over to the counter. He gave her a look and I had to laugh at her googly-eyed excitement. She prattled on about Conner and then moved on to some other bloke she fancied, but I found I didn’t mind. We’d had a hiccup in our friendship and now we could rebuild things, but I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.