The Forgotten Wife

by Emma Robinson

  31

  Shelley

  Lara had her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, Shelley. Why didn’t you tell me all this? You said he left you.’

  A wave of tiredness swept over Shelley. She pressed her fingers into her temples. ‘It was just easier. And in a way, he did. That’s how it felt.’

  Since Greg’s death, everyone had treated her as if she were an invalid. Talking to her in hushed tones. Offering platitudes about life. Either that or they crossed the road to avoid speaking to her altogether. Lara hadn’t known anything about Greg that first time and she had wanted to just be Shelley. Not Shelley the Widow.

  Of course, she felt guilty. Lara had been so good to her these last few weeks. Especially recently, when she’d been so open about her own pain and grief. All this time Shelley had been hiding this huge secret. She owed Lara an explanation.

  ‘Greg’s death was a shock. The murmur he’d had as a child turned out not to be as insignificant as they’d believed. He was here one day and then he wasn’t.’

  She paused for a moment. Even basic details were painful to remember. It was impossible to say these words aloud without feeling each one of them. Lara didn’t interrupt her; her face showed she knew how difficult this must be. Just keep going.

  ‘Anyway. For a little while after he died there were people around all the time. All. The. Time. My mum stayed for a week. His work colleagues all came to see me. Even people we barely knew came to pay their respects. It was kind but also too much at once. Overwhelming. I couldn’t understand what I was supposed to do. How I was supposed to act. People were in my house but I wasn’t the host, I was… well, in the beginning I was somewhere else entirely most of the time. I’d been given sedatives by the hospital and then my doctor prescribed antidepressants and everything was blurry at the edges for a while. Still, there was so much emotion around me and it was stifling; I just wanted everyone to go away. To leave me alone.’

  Lara nodded slowly. ‘People don’t know what to do for the best, do they? Or even what they should say.’

  Shelley interlaced her fingers on her lap to stop them trembling. ‘What can they say? When an old person dies, you can at least talk about the long and happy life they had. But a thirty-eight-year-old man? What can you say about his death?’

  Lara put a hand to her own chest. ‘Oh, Shelley. I’m so sorry.’

  Shelley needed to keep talking, get the whole thing out before the tears overwhelmed her and she couldn’t speak. ‘I overheard someone at the funeral say, “At least they don’t have children.” Can you believe that? Why would you say that? I mean, I’m sure they meant it would be difficult for children to lose their father. But what about me? How am I supposed to get through this on my own?’

  She paused again, her chest felt so tight, but she wanted to get it all out. ‘I read some forums online. For widows, I mean. Lots of them said the same thing: “It’s the kids who are getting me through.” I get it. When you have children, they are your reason to keep going. You have to keep going. You have to be there for them and that gets you through. But when you don’t… What’s going to pull me through, Lara? From the age of eighteen, whenever something bad has happened, whenever I am upset, whenever I have a decision to make, it’s Greg that I turn to. But he’s not here. He’s not here.’

  Shelley’s voice got louder and louder, the rage lying dormant in the pit of her belly caught fire and words she hadn’t even said to herself came tumbling out of her mouth. ‘I did everything his way – the food he liked, the clothes he liked, the holidays, the jewellery – everything. Dee told me I was doing it and I said she was crazy, but it was absolutely true. I never minded, I didn’t even notice it, but I let him have his way on everything. And then the one thing I wanted, the one thing, was a baby and he wouldn’t even think about it. It wasn’t up for discussion and I was so angry, so very angry.’ Her whole body was trembling but she hadn’t finished. ‘I know I said I’d accepted it but I hadn’t, not properly. And I don’t think I’d realised that until he’d gone and I didn’t have the chance to ever ask him about it again. It was too late. Too late.’

  The force of her final words made her bend over and her shoulders shook as her whole body gave in to the sobs as they came. This was why she didn’t let them out; once she started, she couldn’t stop. She felt Lara’s arm across her shoulders, Lara’s face resting on the top of her head.

  Once she could breathe freely again, Shelley sat up and brushed the tears from her cheeks with the palms of her hands. She attempted a smile. ‘This is why I don’t like telling people.’

  Lara had tears running down her own cheeks. ‘I understand that one. I really do. And I feel terrible that I didn’t work it out. When did it happen?’

  Shelley sat back with a sigh. ‘A year ago. I was telling the truth about that. After the first couple of months or so, my doctor started encouraging me to come off the antidepressants. It wasn’t a long-term solution, he said. I went back to work towards the end of the third month. Everyone told me not to. Said it was too soon. I needed time to heal. But I knew that I wasn’t going to heal. How could I? Everything about me was so entwined in everything that was him. If I was going to have to learn to live without him, I might as well get on with it and start this new life on my own.’ She wiped at her eyes. ‘Actually, work was my respite. Flora, especially. When I was at work, I was busy and useful and I could pretend that nothing had changed.’

  Lara turned her face upwards. ‘Which is why this company takeover has been so difficult.’

  Shelley nodded. ‘Exactly. And why I haven’t been able to make a decision about applying for a new job in the new company. That office has been my safe place. It was here in my own home that I found it difficult to be. A few months before you moved in, I took everything from the house that reminded me of Greg and I put it into this room. I couldn’t look at any of it anymore. It hurt too much. I knew I needed to get rid of it but I couldn’t do that yet either. It was easier to lock it away for now, deal with it when I was stronger.’

  Lara screwed up her face. ‘And then I blundered in and tried to make you get rid of all your precious memories. I can’t believe how awful—’

  Shelley shook her head. ‘Stop. Please. It was a relief to be with someone who didn’t know I was a widow. Who didn’t treat me with kid gloves or whisper at me or apologise when they said something that they thought might upset me. It’s been nice to be normal with someone again.’

  Lara covered her face with her hands. ‘I can’t believe I even tried to persuade you to pass on your wedding dress to that girl at the charity shop.’ Her face was red when she took her hands away again.

  Shelley reached out and took her hand. ‘Honestly, please don’t apologise. You have been a lifeline these last few weeks. Without you, I would have been sitting on that sofa downstairs, staring at the TV and trying to summon up the energy to put a frozen lasagne in the microwave. You’ve been good for me. Really good for me.’

  Her voice cracked as she spoke. The truth of her words bounced back at her. It had been wonderful to spend time with someone who saw her as a single entity, and not just the remaining half of a broken whole. It was a relief to tell Lara the truth, but it was like tearing a mask from her face, leaving herself raw and exposed. Would this change things between them? Would Lara become a fountain of sympathy? Because she really didn’t need – or want – that right now. She just wanted a friend.

  She needn’t have worried. Lara took a tissue from the box, blew her nose loudly and wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘Okay. No more sympathy for either of us. We are mates now and we are going to get through your stuff and my stuff together. My new house, your new job and anything else life decides to throw at us. And after I have had this baby, we are going to go out for a full-on girls’ night together.’

  Shelley smiled. ‘Sounds good to me.’

  Lara threw the tissue in the bin. ‘In the meantime, as someone who took up residence in a very dark tunnel for a while, we nee
d to do what the book says. Both of us. Start making way for joy.’

  32

  Lara

  Cooking Matt’s favourite dinner was a sure sign that Lara was about to ask him for something. Tonight, as she pummelled the steaks with the tenderiser, she mentally rehearsed what she wanted to say.

  However she phrased it, it mustn’t sound like criticism. Matt had been a life raft for her these last two years. There was no doubt that without his calm, solid hold on her, she would have gone under. He had lost their babies too, and yet his first thought and concern had always been for her.

  The last time had been the worst. They had cradled baby Aaron for a long time. If anything, it had been more painful when Matt had held him. He’d been so impossibly tiny in Matt’s large, capable hands.

  * * *

  When Matt got in from work, she told him to take a shower while she finished preparing dinner: he liked his steak pretty rare, but even the well-done version she would have to have wouldn’t take long.

  Once they were sitting down to eat, she poured him a glass of red wine and told him about Shelley’s revelation this afternoon.

  Matt’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. ‘Wow. Poor Shelley. That must have been a shock when she told you.’

  Lara sipped at her sparkling water. ‘I’m glad she felt able to tell me, to be honest. So, I was honest with her. About everything.’

  Matt lowered his eyes, spent longer than necessary sawing a tiny slice of steak. ‘That’s good.’

  Lara put down her knife and fork. She wanted to say this right. ‘It did feel good. A relief. And it made me realise that we haven’t been able to be honest recently, have we?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Matt still wasn’t meeting her eye. All the proof she needed for what she was about to say.

  ‘This baby, Matt. You don’t think it’s going to happen, do you? That’s why you won’t feel him move or talk about him or make any plans.’

  Matt didn’t move for a few moments. Was he deciding whether to tell her the truth? Much as she wanted honesty, if he was to tell her now that he didn’t think this baby would make it either, it might be more than she could bear.

  When he did speak, his voice was very quiet. ‘It was so hard, Lara.’

  Her throat tightened. ‘I know, babe. It was hard. For both of us.’

  He leaned forwards, placed his hand over hers. ‘I don’t know what was more difficult for me. Losing the baby or seeing you in so much pain and not being able to help. When you’ve got a problem, I like fixing it for you, making it better. But I couldn’t fix that. I couldn’t make it better.’

  Lara squeezed her fist, encased in Matt’s hand, wanting to throw her arms around him but knowing how important it was for her to say all that she wanted to say. ‘You couldn’t fix it because it had already happened. It was over. But we can try again. We are trying again. And I need you to believe it can work this time. We need to hope for this baby and believe he or she can make it. Because whatever has happened in the past, we need to give this baby the best chance.’

  Matt’s eyes filled. ‘I can’t pretend it didn’t happen, Lara. I can’t just clear everything away and act like those babies didn’t exist.’

  Lara froze as if he’d struck her. Is that what he thought? That she wanted to forget them? Something broke away in her chest and a moan grazed her throat. ‘I’ll never forget them. I’ll never forget my babies. How could you even think that I wanted to forget them?’

  ‘Hey, hey, don’t get yourself worked up.’ Matt looked genuinely frightened. ‘I know that you haven’t forgotten them, but the book, the decluttering – I just thought you didn’t want me to talk about them, to be reminded.’

  ‘Reminded?’ Lara knew her voice was getting louder, but she couldn’t hold it down. ‘Every time this baby moves, I am reminded. Every time the midwife listens to the heartbeat. Every scan, every blood test…’ She couldn’t speak anymore. Having taken her hand away from the table, both fists were now clenched in her lap as she rocked backwards and forwards.

  Matt pulled his chair until they were sitting beside each other, and he held her close as she cried, his own tears falling into her hair. ‘Shush, honey. Shush. It’s okay. It’s okay.’

  Once the storm had subsided, he pulled away and held her arms as he looked her in the eye. ‘Wait there. I want to show you something.’

  His feet on the stairs thudded away. How come they had never spoken like this? They’d always been tight and had been through so much together. Clearly they had hidden a lot too. Trying to spare one another, they had allowed a distance to grow. She was fearful of what he might be about to show her. What other secrets had been hidden?

  She soon found out. The kitchen door creaked as he pushed it open. In his hands was a shoebox from a pair of his running shoes. He didn’t normally keep the boxes. He only ever had one pair of shoes for running, which he would wear until they were beyond useable and then throw them away and buy replacements. How long had he had this box, and where had it been hidden?

  Matt sat next to her so that their knees were touching. He took a deep breath and lifted the lid from the box. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to lean forwards and look in.

  ‘So.’ Matt put his hand inside the box, rested it there and took a deep breath. ‘I’m not showing you these to upset you. I just need you to understand.’

  ‘I understand. I know you would never hurt me.’ She spoke the truth, but her heart thumped. What was he about to show her?

  Matt’s hand came out of the box closed. He turned his fist over and opened it. In the middle of his palm was a tiny hospital identity bracelet. Aaron’s identity bracelet.

  There were other mementos. A Babygro, which had to be from the first pregnancy. A hand-knitted blanket that a stillbirth charity had given them at the hospital for Aaron. And, lastly, a photograph of their tiny, beautiful boy.

  Lara groaned again. It came from somewhere so deep within her chest that she could feel it. She could barely form the words she wanted to say. ‘I knew we hadn’t got rid of it but I didn’t know where it was. I was so scared that I’d thrown it away by accident that I couldn’t ask.’

  Matt nodded. ‘When you were… recovering, I hid it away. You couldn’t cope with it. I knew. I understood. It was too painful. So, I kept it safe. With the other things. I knew someday that you might want to see them.’

  Lara could barely speak. She stroked the photograph of her beautiful boy. Her Aaron. ‘I do.’ Her voice was barely a whisper. ‘I do want to see him.’

  Matt reached out for her other hand. ‘And I want to see this baby, Lara. Oh God, I want to see this baby so much. But I’m scared. And not just about losing the baby. I’m even more scared of what another loss would do to you. To us.’

  Lara nodded, tears dripped from her face. ‘I know, but we have to take that chance. We have to hope.’

  Matt breathed in deeply. ‘We have to accept what happened too. We can’t pretend this is a clean slate.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, we do. But we need to make way for this baby. We need to open ourselves up and hope that we get to keep this one.’

  Matt’s eyes filled again. ‘Okay. Yes. I can do that.’ He looked down at her stomach and gently placed his hand onto it. For a few moments, they sat in silence. Then Matt spoke.

  ‘Hey, baby.’ He gulped. ‘Daddy’s waiting to meet you.’

  33

  Shelley

  The Garden of Remembrance was empty. If you didn’t know better, you could imagine you were in a really well-kept park. Bright bedding plants and shrubs had been thoughtfully arranged to provide private areas for grieving relatives. Remembrance plaques were the only indication of the purpose of the place. That and the multitude of benches positioned at tactful intervals.

  It was strange being back here and taking it all in. The last time Shelley had been here, the surroundings had been a blur of hugs and handshakes and empty words of consolation. Not empty. That wasn
’t fair. The words were well meant; it was the hole inside of her that had been too cavernous to fill.

  She found a bench underneath a tree and sat, not even sure why she was here. All she knew was that, after opening up to Lara, the one thing she really needed to do was talk to Greg.

  She looked around again. Yes, she was still on her own. Would this have felt less strange if she had a headstone to talk to? A small plot to tend? She took a deep breath.

  ‘I’ve come to talk to you, Greg.’

  Why had she said his name? Surely if he could hear her, he would know that she was talking to him. And if he couldn’t, then she was wasting her time anyway. She took another deep breath. Stop overthinking it.

  ‘I’m sorry that I haven’t come before. It was difficult, I…’

  For God’s sake, this was stupid. Why had she thought that this was a good idea? She closed her eyes. What did she want to say?

  ‘I’m not doing this right.’ Her throat constricted again. She closed her eyes and let the tightness pass. ‘I don’t even know how to do it. How to be a… a widow. I don’t feel like a widow, I just don’t feel like anything.’

  She swallowed. It was painful over the lump in her throat. ‘The thing is… it was a shock. It was sudden. And I didn’t really take it in. That you were gone. Dee and your parents sorted everything out. The funeral, the paperwork for the bank, the endless forms that had to be filled in.’

  Dee had been amazing. Who knew how it would all have happened if she hadn’t been there? So why had Shelley been avoiding her ever since the funeral? Because it was painful?

  Another deep breath.