by Vivien Brown
what I feel. It has to be about you. What’s best for you. I just want you to be happy, and being with Josh isn’t making you happy, is it? So do something about it. Please. And when you need
me, for anything, as anything, I’ll be here. Okay?’
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CHAPTER 23
EVE
Starting at a new school a term after everybody else made me feel I was constantly playing
catch-up. Most members of staff already knew each other well, and even the two newest had
had the months since September to get acclimatised and make sure they had found a favourite
chair in the staff room and learned the others’ names. The children moved around the building
as if they were on wheels, whizzing round corners, dashing from class to class, creating a quiet but constant buzz that never quite reached deafening proportions. It was like a well-established ant colony, everyone knowing exactly where they were going and what their own place was in
the hierarchy. Except me.
At home, life was settling down at last. Dad had gone back to work, which I felt sure
would do him the world of good, and since Christmas Day I had seen very little of Sarah and
absolutely nothing of Josh. A new kind of after-Mum normality was imprinting itself on our
lives, and the start of a new year seemed to signal some sort of new beginning for all of us, one in which I had a sister and a brother-in-law, and a niece, and could finally live without the
pangs of guilt that had been growing stronger and stronger ever since I had left my Welsh
cocoon and come back into the family orbit. As New Year’s resolutions go, I only had one.
There would be no looking back, no more Josh and me, just the chance to build a life without
him. And work was the ideal way to achieve it.
Grange Heath School was nothing like my old one. After only three weeks in the job, I
could already see that the majority of pupils here actually wanted to learn, and had ambition
and career plans and drive. Those in my A level English Literature classes were there because
they had chosen to be, and really wanted to be, and there were a few potential Oxbridge
candidates among them, if they worked hard enough to get there. The problems of apathetic
kids and council-estate hopelessness were behind me and I was facing very different challenges
now, trying to get the very best out of students who would be working with me and not against
me.
‘Thank you, Miss Peters.’ Two girls who had stayed back after the last class of the day
to ask questions – when had that ever happened before? – filed out and left me to gather up my
books and papers. I was smiling, and actually humming quietly to myself, as I left the room,
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intending to head back along the now empty corridor towards the staff room. And that was when I saw him. Arnie O’Connor.
He was waiting on a chair outside the admin office, fiddling with a piece of paper,
tapping his shoes nervously against the floor tiles, and staring out through the big glass doors at the front of the school. He didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular, just gazing into the distance, which meant, luckily, that he hadn’t spotted me approaching from the side.
I stopped, trying not to let my shoes squeak, willing him not to turn round. My heart
was racing, pounding in my chest, and for a moment I held my breath, not wanting any slight
movement to catch his attention. It had been years since I’d last seen him, that morning he’d
been hurrying to the station as I walked the dog, but I was sure it was him. People change, and he certainly had – shorter hair, a fatter face, definite signs of a paunch protruding from his open jacket – but not so much that they can’t be recognised. It was him all right.
I suppose I’d expected, or hoped, that he’d be long gone by now, moved away
somewhere, never to be seen again. No such luck.
‘Mr O’Connor.’ Cheryl, the school secretary, emerged from her office, smiling and
holding out a hand to guide him. ‘Would you like to come through now?’
I pressed myself flat against the wall, trying to make myself invisible, but I needn’t
have bothered. He didn’t look my way, just stood and straightened his clothing before
disappearing off through a door that quickly closed behind him.
The last thing I wanted was to hang around and risk coming face to face with the man
who had single-handedly, and in one drunken violent encounter, ruined my life. If it wasn’t for him I would have been more open, more loving, towards Josh when we’d first met. I would
have discovered sex in the right way, slowly and warmly, with the man I loved, instead of
fighting off a red-faced lech with octopus hands. I might even be married and happy and—
I shook the thoughts away. This wasn’t the Arnie of the past. It was the Arnie of the
present. The now Arnie. And, assuming he was here because he had connections to the school,
quite possibly a child, or children, at the school, I was probably going to have to meet him, deal with him, even confront him, sooner or later. Not now though. For now, I would get out of the
building and as far away from him as I could, until I had let my pulse slow down and decided
what to do next. Because running away into the night and going into hiding miles away was
not an option this time. I wasn’t a scared teenager anymore. I was an adult, in a position of
authority, maybe even of power. And I could not let him put me down again.
***
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‘Not expecting anyone, are we?’ Dad said as we heard a car pull up outside. We had just finished our dinner and were enjoying our coffee in the living room, relishing the blissful
silence created by not automatically switching on the TV as soon as we sat down, something
Mum had always done, with a ‘Let’s just catch the News, shall we?’ that usually led to at least an hour of soaps.
I went over to close the curtains and shut out the cold and gloom of a dark January
evening, and peered out at the street. ‘Oh, it’s Sarah,’ I said, watching her stride purposefully up the path, which was lit only by the small lanterns on the wall to each side of the front door, and use her key.
‘That’s nice.’ Dad put his coffee down and started to get up from his armchair. ‘I’ll put
the kettle back on and make her a cup.’
But he’d only taken one pace forward when she came bursting into the room like a
whirlwind. ‘Right, you,’ she said, pointing a finger at me. She wasn’t shouting, but somehow
the controlled, determined way she spoke worried me a lot more than if she had been. ‘I want
answers. And none of your lies, because I am not stupid, much as you obviously think I am. I
do have eyes, you know.’
For a moment, I had no idea what she was talking about, what it was I had done. Dad
had sunk back into his chair, his mouth open in shock, and Sarah just stood and stared at me,
as if she was waiting for me to speak.
‘I don’t know what—’
‘Yes, you do. Of course you do. And don’t you even think of skulking out of the room.
What we have to say needs to be said. Right here, right now, so Dad can hear it too. Time he
realised what sort of a nasty, cheating, conniving person his precious Eve really is.’
And then I knew. Of course I did. It was written all over her tear-stained face. Sarah
had found us out. After we had kept our secret for so long, she had found out now, when it was
over, when I had thought we were safe, that she was safe, from ever having to know. Oh, God!
‘Sit do
wn, Sarah.’ Dad had found his voice. ‘I’m sure whatever this is we can resolve
it amicably. I don’t want any unpleasantness. Your mother never—’
‘Mum’s not here, Dad. But if she was, I’d want her to hear this too. All the
unpleasantness, as you call it. Every sordid little detail. Because your wonderful, caring
daughter here –’ She grabbed my wrist and clenched it so hard her fingernails made a mark,
and pushed me, roughly, down onto the sofa, ‘– has been sleeping with my husband.’
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I didn’t deny it. I didn’t say anything, just shook her off me and sat biting my lip, trying to breathe as normally as my inner panic allowed.
‘Sarah . . .’
‘Oh, don’t you Sarah me. As if butter wouldn’t melt. Good old Eve, giving up her job
and her flat and coming home to save the day, to look after Mum, and you too, Dad, and being
all responsible and capable, taking care of all the paperwork, nosing around sorting out Mum’s
things. Give her a bloody medal! But that’s not really why you came back, is it, Eve? You came
back for Josh. My Josh. So you could be near enough to carry on your grubby little affair right under my nose. The same affair that you’ve been having for years. Well, at least six years, to
my knowledge, and probably a whole lot longer. Ask her, Dad. Go on, ask her if it’s true.’
‘Sarah, I’m sure you’re wrong. There must be some mistake. Eve wouldn’t—’
‘Oh really? Wouldn’t she? Ask her then. And while you’re at it, ask her where she was
the night Mum died.’
We all fell silent. The thoughts churned through my mind so rapidly I hardly knew
where to begin. Was she guessing? Bluffing? Or had she got proof? And how about Josh? Had
she come to me first, desperate to get to the truth, or had she spoken to him already? Shoved
him down onto a chair with the scratches from her nails all over him too? Had he denied it all?
Confessed? Shouted, consoled, begged for forgiveness? I didn’t know what he had already
said, and I didn’t want to be the one to tell her everything, break her heart, bring her marriage to its knees. Not if I didn’t have to, and not in front of Dad.
‘Well? What have you got to say for yourself?’ Dad had that voice on now, the one he
had used when we were little, when one of us had broken a vase or been cheeky to Mum, or
come home with a bad school report. There was no anger in it, just disappointment, which was
a whole lot worse. ‘Is there something you want to tell me?’
‘You can’t deny it, Eve.’ Sarah was digging away at me again, her face just inches from
mine. ‘Josh has told me everything. How you chased after him, got your claws in and wouldn’t
let go.’
I rubbed my wrist, where she had drawn blood. If anyone had claws in this family, it
wasn’t me. Chased after him? Would he really have said that? Tried to blame it all on me? Or
was that just Sarah’s version, the only version she could allow herself to accept?
‘I know all about the hotel room you were shacked up in as Mum lay here dying. I
didn’t think you could ever sink so low, but then you always did get what you wanted, didn’t
you?’
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‘Okay, yes.’ I spoke slowly, letting the truth – or a watered-down take on it – drip out of me, word by painful word. ‘Yes, I have seen Josh, from time to time. We’re old friends. We
have a history. He came to visit me, in Wales, and I was pleased to see him. Surprised, but
pleased. He was at a conference somewhere nearby, or so he said, but I had no idea he was
going to turn up like that, on my doorstep. I didn’t invite him.’
‘You didn’t turn him away either though, did you? From your flat, or from your bed?
How long, Eve? How long has this been going on?’
‘It’s not going on. I didn’t see him often. It was never meant to be a . . . well, whatever
it was, it’s over. Finished. I finished it. Not Josh, but me. And I haven’t seen him at all since he was here with you at Christmas.’
‘Oh, bully for you. Did the honourable thing, did you? A shame you didn’t think of that,
or of me and Janey, a bit sooner, eh? Because you may think you’re calling the shots here, but
you’re not. Not anymore. He’s mine, and I am not letting him go, okay? Not to anyone, and
certainly not to you.’
‘I’m not asking you to.’
‘Good. And don’t pretend it was some great love affair. He would have left me long
ago if it was. No, it was just sex. Easy, on-a-plate sex. I know why you did it though. Revenge.
That’s why. Because of what we did to you, all those years ago. I took him from you and you
just couldn’t wait to pay me back, could you? Well, you’ve had your fun, and it’s over. And
don’t you even think of contacting him. He doesn’t want to see you, or talk to you. And don’t
you for one minute think he loves you, because he doesn’t, okay? We’re going to make a go of
our marriage, despite you and your bloody games. So stay away. From Josh, and from me. And
from Janey. Because from now on, you have no sister and you definitely have no niece. You
may teach at her school, but you make damn sure she’s never in one of your classes. If I hear
that she is, or that you’re trying to talk to her about anything not strictly school-related, I will come up to that school and tell the whole damn staffroom exactly what you’ve done. See how
that goes down with all your new colleagues. What that does to your precious career, which –
let’s be honest – is all you’ve ever cared about anyway.’
And then she was gone, the front door slamming hard behind her, and Dad and I sat
staring at each other, a huge gulf of hurt hanging between us like a cloud just waiting to burst.
‘Is it true, Eve?’ The pain in his voice was almost too hard to take.
‘I love him, Dad. I’ve always loved him.’
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‘And that’s a good enough reason is it? Where’s your self-restraint, your pride? She’s your sister. Your own sister.’ He stood up and fetched the whisky bottle, pouring himself a
large glass before tilting the bottle in my direction, his hand shaking.
‘No, thanks. I’m not going to find answers in booze, am I? Oblivion maybe, which is a
pretty attractive option right now, but . . .’
‘But what, Eve? I thought this family had hit rock bottom when we lost your mum, but
this is about as low as things can get. I’m just glad she’s not here to hear any of it, and me
wishing she wasn’t around is not something I ever thought would happen. Is it over? Between
you and him? Really? Or is that just what you told her?’
‘It’s been over for weeks, Dad. I had thought – hoped – nobody need ever know. And,
no, I’m not proud of myself, you’re right there. While I was so far away, I could tell myself I wasn’t hurting anyone, but coming back here made it feel very real all of a sudden. And sordid.
Not what I wanted anymore. Oh God, do you think she really has had it all out with him? Have
they really decided to stick together? Or is she just saying that to keep me away?’
‘So you’re calling your sister a liar now, are you? That’s a bit rich coming from you.
And as for how they decide to go on from here, that’s not your business, is it? Or mine, for that matter. I just hope, for our little Janey’s sake, that they can mend this, one way or another. But I’m not going to find it easy to forgive the damage you’ve done, Eve. And I’m damn sure Sarah
; isn’t either. I think perhaps the sooner you find yourself a place to live the better. The last thing I want is for Sarah to stay away from this house because you’re here. Or to keep Janey away. I
love that little girl, and right now I want to see her a damn sight more than I want to see you.’
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CHAPTER 24
SARAH
Josh and I moved through our lives like fish swimming side by side, usually in the same general direction but separated by invisible water and rarely touching. Sadly I was not blessed with the three-second memory they say fish have, and thoughts of what they had done, and more
importantly, what they might have felt, or continued to feel, for each other, kept me awake at
night.
Josh had no idea what I had discovered, no idea I had confronted Eve, or that I knew
all about their affair. Why hadn’t I told him? Yelled at him? Insisted he tell me everything and promise it was over? Partly fear of where it would all lead, I suppose, but also partly, I had to admit now, because I no longer really cared enough about what he did to risk losing everything
I had. This was not love, this was marriage, and the two did not necessarily go together like a horse and carriage, no matter what that old song might say. If what Eve had told me was true,
that she had been the one to develop a conscience and end things between them, then perhaps
he was still angry with her, or still hurting, or still hopeful of a reconciliation. I had no idea which way his thinking might go, no idea what he felt, but it was not the right time to rock the boat, in case it was me who fell overboard, so I was not going to ask.
I saw Eve as little as possible, and watched Josh like a hawk, checking his stories for
lies, his document case for suspicious bills, his phone for any evidence of contact. It was no
way to live.
***
When Eve moved out of Dad’s, I was pleased. I would be able to visit him whenever I liked
without the risk of bumping into her. Sticking to calling round in school hours, when I knew
she would be at work, was all very well, but it meant Janey got to see so little of her granddad and trying to make up excuses for why she hadn’t seen her auntie in ages was becoming
