The Woman Next Door

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The Woman Next Door Page 17

by Natasha Boydell


  ‘I don’t want a cup of tea, Alan,’ she said.

  He paused, not sure what to do.

  ‘Get me a whisky.’

  Alan obediently went to the drinks cabinet to dig out the stash of single malt that Sophie wouldn’t normally touch. He poured them both a dram and carried the tumblers over to the kitchen table, sitting down opposite her and waiting for her to make the first move.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Come on, Alan, you can do better than that.’

  ‘Honestly, Sophie, I don’t know why it happened. I didn’t plan it and I’ve regretted it ever since. It was a moment of complete madness.’

  ‘More than one moment,’ she corrected him.

  He looked pained. ‘Yes, you’re right. You mean the world to me, I never imagined in a million years that I would ever do anything like this. I still can’t believe it myself.’

  ‘Do you fancy her? Have you been lusting after her the whole time?’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t want you thinking like that.’

  ‘What do you expect me to think? You cheated on me, and if that wasn’t enough, you cheated on me with my friend, with our neighbour.’

  He lowered his head. ‘I know.’

  ‘There must be a reason. You don’t just sleep with someone else for no reason.’

  He rubbed his hand along the top of his head. ‘We’ve been married a long time, Soph. I guess the spark had gone a bit, especially after all the baby-making business. And this thing, it felt exciting. And I just got carried away and let it get the better of me. I’ll never forgive myself.’

  ‘That’s your excuse? You got carried away? What are you, a teenage boy?’

  ‘I know it sounds pathetic. I just feel that perhaps we were stuck in a bit of a rut. What with constantly talking about having children and not actually enjoying ourselves anymore. And then you got your new job and you’ve been so busy, so distracted.’

  ‘So it’s my fault?’

  ‘No!’ he protested. ‘No, it’s not your fault. It’s all my fault – but you’re asking for a reason and that’s the only one I can give you. It doesn’t justify what I did, but there it is. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘So you keep saying.’

  They sat in silence. Sophie took a sip of the whisky, winced and then forced herself to take a larger gulp. It wasn’t going to save her marriage but it might numb the pain.

  ‘I may have been a bit preoccupied with making babies, and the kids, and becoming a swimming instructor but this is hardly a fair punishment. I mean, yes we should have made more of an effort to spend time alone, the two of us, but it’s hard with young children.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And you didn’t even talk to me about it. You didn’t even give me a chance to understand how you were feeling and try to make it better. I thought we could always talk to each other.’

  ‘We can, Sophie.’

  ‘I think what actually happened is that Angie is an incredibly attractive, sexy woman that pretty much all men drool over and when the opportunity presented itself, you thought with your dick rather than your head. It’s really that simple.’

  ‘Possibly, yes.’

  ‘And I thought you were better than that.’

  ‘Me too.’

  He didn’t even try to defend himself. Alan had never been any good at arguments. He always did whatever he could to avoid confrontation. She couldn’t remember a single time in their entire relationship that they’d ever had a proper barney, where he’d raised his voice in any way.

  ‘I don’t know if I can get past this,’ she said. ‘Even if I could forgive you, which right now I can’t even imagine doing, I don’t think I can ever trust you again.’

  ‘I will never do it again. Never.’

  ‘But how do I know that?’

  ‘You have to believe me, Sophie.’

  She laughed in his face. ‘Do you know why I married you? Even though you were so different to all the men I had been out with in the past? Because I thought that you would never hurt me. That I’d be safe with you.’

  He looked crestfallen, but he said nothing. He tried to take her hand but she moved it away. ‘I don’t know where we go from here,’ she said.

  ‘I don’t know either. But I’ll do whatever it takes, Sophie. Whatever it takes.’

  They looked at each other from across the table, tired, upset and afraid, and knew that whatever the future held for them, it wasn’t going to be decided then and there. Eventually Sophie took herself to bed and Alan went to sleep in Tom’s room. She lay there for the rest of the night, staring up at the ceiling, too shocked to cry, and wondered how she would ever get over the fact that the two people she thought would always have her back were the ones who had let her down in the worst possible way. For the first time since she had married Alan, since she had thought she had a partner for life, she had never felt more alone.

  Jack brought the kids round first thing when Sophie was downstairs in her dressing gown putting the kettle on. She had been awake all night and was absolutely shattered. Tom and Katie had faces like thunder because they hadn’t been allowed to stay at the Taylors’ for breakfast.

  ‘I don’t understand why we had to come home so early,’ Tom said in his sulky voice.

  ‘Go upstairs and get dressed,’ Sophie instructed the children firmly. When they were gone, she turned to Jack who looked like he hadn’t slept either.

  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

  ‘Not really, how about you?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Did you have any idea at all?’

  ‘No,’ Sophie said. ‘Now I know why Angie’s been giving me the cold shoulder. But Alan? I can’t believe he acted so normally all this time, as if nothing was wrong. That’s what gets me.’

  ‘I knew something was up with Angie but I thought it was burn out from taking too much on, trying to do too much. When she’s stressed, she turns in on herself and withdraws from everyone else. I just assumed it was that.’

  ‘Do you know, I actually though that Angie was upset with me? I was trying to work out what I’d done wrong. I even got paranoid that she suspected you and me of something, which I know is ludicrous.’

  ‘She did.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She did suspect us. Not just you though. Everyone. It seems she suspected me of cheating with everyone.’

  ‘Blimey. And have you?’

  ‘Have I what?’

  ‘Cheated on her.’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Jack.’

  ‘Me too.’

  Alan appeared then, stopping abruptly in the doorway when he saw Jack. Sophie wondered if there was going to be a showdown and panicked about the children walking in on them, but Jack ignored him.

  He hugged Sophie and made to leave. ‘Call me, any time,’ he said.

  She nodded. ‘You too.’

  She watched him go, considering what he had just told her. There was no doubt that Jack was a flirt and she could understand why it may have upset Angie in the past. Was he telling the truth about never having cheated on her? She thought back to the holiday when they’d been messing around in the pool. She couldn’t be the only woman he’d turned the charm on with like that. But when she imagined him as a serial adulterer it just didn’t feel right. Jack was like a harmless kid, thoughtless sometimes but not manipulative. Despite his fooling around – and he undoubtably sailed too close to the wind sometimes – Jack was loyal. His wife and children came first. Unlike her own husband, and Jack’s wife for that matter.

  ‘Sophie, we haven’t got much time,’ Alan said urgently. ‘The kids will be down soon. What do you want me to do? Shall I leave? Shall I stay? Just tell me and I’ll do it.’

  She didn’t even look at him. ‘You’ll stay, for now,’ she said. ‘Tom and Katie mustn’t know anything is wrong, do you understand?’

  ‘Okay. But what about us?’

  ‘I do
n’t know.’ It was all she could give him.

  When the children emerged a few minutes later, she planted a smile on her face and set about making them breakfast. Inside she was miserable, not helped by the throbbing headache brought on by tequila, whisky and lack of sleep. She felt so wretched that she didn’t even know how she was going to make it through the day, let alone the next few weeks.

  She knew that some women in her position would have kicked Alan out immediately. Others would have gone round and had it out with Angie. She didn’t want to do either. She just wanted to go back to bed, curl up into a ball and hide away from the world. Why aren’t I raging? Maybe it was because Alan had surrendered so quickly. Or maybe she was still in shock. When Alan came down from having a shower, she told him that she wasn’t feeling well and was going back to bed.

  ‘No problem, I’ll take the kids to the park for a kickabout,’ he said.

  She kissed the tops of Tom and Katie’s heads and wearily walked up the stairs. As she climbed into bed, she heard them moving around, gathering coats, hats and gloves, the chattering in the hall followed by the front door slamming and then, finally, silence.

  Should she call someone? Her mum, Eve maybe? But she didn’t feel like it. She wasn’t ready to talk to anyone about what had happened. She started googling pointless things on her phone, typing in Should I forgive my cheating husband? and Why do people cheat? None of the results brought any comfort or answers. Only she could decide what happened next and the truth was she didn’t know. She loved Alan. She hated Alan. She couldn’t imagine ever forgiving him. She couldn’t imagine ever being without him. She thought of Tom and Katie and the effect it would have on them if they split up. It was just too much to process.

  For the first few days, she operated on autopilot. Every morning she woke up and for a few blissful seconds she had no memory of what had happened. But then it all came flooding back and the feeling of dread would engulf her again. At night she and Alan lay side by side like strangers. They rarely spoke to each other when they were alone and she knew Alan was waiting for her to be ready before they talked, but she still hadn’t found the right words to say to him. He had cheated on her; he had betrayed her; he said he wouldn’t do it again. What was there left to say? She continued to wait for her anger to come, assuming that once it had sunk in, she would be furious and would lash out at him. But she remained numb.

  She was too afraid to leave the house in case she bumped into Angie. She became a hermit, hiding away at home while Alan took the kids out on his own. Tom and Katie, used to the freedom of letting themselves through the garden gate to play with Ellie and Freddy whenever they wanted to, were moody when Sophie told them that they couldn’t go round.

  ‘But why?’ Tom asked.

  ‘It’s Angie,’ Sophie said, ‘she’s not well. Anyway, you’ll see them at school.’

  The new term started three days later. She hadn’t heard from either Angie or Jack and she couldn’t face either of them. As she got out of bed that morning, forcing herself to stand up despite every bone in her body wanting to stay under the covers, she turned to Alan.

  ‘You’re taking the children to school this morning.’

  ‘Soph, I’ve got to be on site at 8.30am.’

  She looked at him. ‘You’re taking them.’

  He looked like he was about to protest but he nodded instead. The minute he left with the children she sank down onto the sofa. She wanted to go swimming but she didn’t have the energy and she wasn’t due at work for another two days. She literally had nothing to do.

  She had been waiting for Tom and Katie to go back to school so that she’d have the space she needed to process what had happened and decide what to do. But now that she was here, she was just as confused as ever. They couldn’t go on living like strangers forever, it wasn’t sustainable. She had to make a decision sooner or later: could she forgive Alan or was their marriage over? If only it hadn’t been Angie. If it had been someone else perhaps I could have moved past it.

  It was only half true, adultery was adultery, but the humiliation of it being with Angie was excruciating. Why her? At last, the anger started to bubble up inside her and she thumped the pillow. Then she did it again, and again, until before she knew it, she was battering it with both arms, screaming, shouting and eventually crying. She cried and cried until she had no tears left and then she sat and stared at a family photo on the wall for a while. Alan had his arm around Sophie and they were both pulling a silly face. Tom and Katie were laughing. They’d taken it on holiday in Greece last summer, when they went away with the Taylors. Angie and Alan had already slept together by then. Come to think of it, Angie had taken the photo.

  Eventually she stood up and went to make herself a cup of tea. As the kettle boiled, an image of Alan and Angie kissing appeared without warning in her head and she felt another wave of anger. She picked up Alan’s favourite mug, the one that declared he was the World’s Best Husband, and hurled it across the kitchen. It hit the wall and fell to the floor, smashing into pieces.

  The doorbell ringing made her jump. What if it’s Angie? She didn’t want to see her but she knew it had to happen eventually. She couldn’t remain prisoner in her own home forever. But was she ready for it yet? And what if it wasn’t Angie after all? It could be Jack, wanting to talk, or even the postman just delivering a parcel. She considered ignoring it but then the bell rang again and curiosity got the better of her. Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, she opened it and looked at the person on the other side in surprise.

  It was Indie.

  18

  It had all gone according to plan. Mission accomplished. Yet Indie hadn’t felt the euphoria that she had been expecting. Actually, she’d felt pretty rubbish. She had looked at the devastation on her dad’s face and the horror on Sophie’s and realised that she was responsible for that. The hurt and resentment that she had been harbouring for weeks, that had manifested itself into an intense desire for retribution, seemed to be deserting her. She felt afraid.

  Still her mum deserved it, she persuaded herself. She had got what was coming to her. Alan too. But it wasn’t enough anymore, it wasn’t enough to justify the fact that she had just thrown a massive hand grenade into the middle of this situation. The fall out was going to be huge. When she had been plotting and planning, she hadn’t cared whether her mum would be angry with her but she did care now. Now that she actually had to face the music. And what if her parents divorced now because of it? Because of her? What if her dad never spoke to her again?

  She curled up on her bed in the dark and hoped that someone would come to her – her dad, Benji, even her mum, so that she didn’t have to be alone. She heard hushed voices downstairs. But no one came. She finally cried herself to sleep in the early hours but she was awake again at dawn. Her first thought was that something terrible had happened but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. And then it all came back to her and she felt horror, guilt and fear all wrapped into one. She thought about running away but she didn’t know where to go and she didn’t have any money. In the end, she lay under her duvet and waited.

  Finally at 8am there was a gentle knock on the door and Jack opened it, holding a mug of hot chocolate, which he gently placed on her bedside table. As he perched on the edge of her bed and looked down at her, she pretended that she had just woken up. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and took the hot drink but refused to look at him. She desperately wanted to find out what had happened last night, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask, so she scowled instead.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, putting his hand on top of hers.

  She looked at him in surprise. ‘Aren’t you angry with me?’

  He smiled sadly. ‘No, Indie. You shouldn’t have done what you did, in the way that you did, but you should never have been involved in the first place. You’re a child. I’m so very sorry that you got dragged into this mess, I really am. It must have been absolutely horrible for you.’

&nb
sp; Her dad’s kindness, his understanding despite what she’d done, set her off again and she was sobbing, spilling hot chocolate all over the duvet until Jack gently removed the mug from her hands and put his arms around her.

  ‘I’m sorry, Dad, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I know,’ he said, hugging her even tighter.

  When she had recovered, he handed her the drink back and she took it gratefully, craving the comfort of a childhood favourite. When they were younger Angie used to make hot chocolate for them every Friday before their baths. A little treat to celebrate the weekend, she would say.

  ‘I’ve messed up,’ she said.

  ‘Well, maybe a bit, but it’s not your fault.’

  ‘What’s going to happen now?’

  ‘I’m going to be moving out for a while.’

  Indie looked at him in horror. ‘Dad, no! You can’t leave. She should go, she’s the one who caused all of this.’

  ‘I know it’s hard for you to understand, Indie, but Mum needs to be here, with you.’

  ‘No she doesn’t! Make her move out! You stay here and look after us.’

  ‘I’ll be round to see you all the time, don’t worry.’

  ‘No!’ Indie was getting desperate now. ‘Dad, you can’t leave me here with her.’

  ‘It’s just temporary, Indie, until we work out a long-term solution. You must remember that your mother loves you very, very much.’

  ‘Please take me with you, Dad. I’m begging you!’

  He looked briefly torn, but then his expression hardened. ‘I’m sorry, Indie, but you need to stay here. You need to be able to get to school every day and anyway, your brothers and sister need you. And you’ve got to make it right with Mum.’

  ‘I’ll never make it right with her.’

  Jack looked thoughtful and Indie prayed that he was about to change his mind about making her stay, but then he said, ‘Mum hasn’t been well, Indie. She’s not been well for a while. But we brushed it under the carpet. We shouldn’t have done that. I’m not justifying her behaviour but I’m saying that she deserves your understanding. She loves you so very much.’

 

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