Behind Closed Doors

by B. A. Paris

  ‘But, generally speaking, aren’t cases of abuse usually easy to prove?’ Rufus asks, while Diane tells Esther, in case she doesn’t already know, that Jack champions the underdog—more specifically, battered wives. ‘I don’t want to detract from the wonderful work you do, but there is often physical evidence, or witnesses, are there not?’

  ‘Jack’s forte is getting the victims to trust him enough to tell him what has been going on,’ Diane, who I suspect of being a little in love with Jack, explains. ‘Many women don’t have anybody to turn to and are scared they won’t be believed.’

  ‘He also makes sure that the perpetrators go down for a very long time,’ adds Adam.

  ‘I have nothing but contempt for men who are found to be violent towards their wives,’ Jack says firmly. ‘They deserve everything they get.’

  ‘I’ll drink to that.’ Rufus raises his glass again.

  ‘He’s never lost a case yet, have you, Jack?’ says Diane.

  ‘No, and I don’t intend to.’

  ‘An unbroken track record—that’s quite something,’ muses Rufus, impressed.

  Esther looks over at me. ‘Your sister—Millie—is quite a bit younger than you,’ she remarks, bringing the conversation back to where we left off.

  ‘Yes, there are seventeen years between us. Millie didn’t come along until my mother was forty-six. It didn’t occur to her she was pregnant at first so it was a bit of a shock to find she was going to be a mother again.’

  ‘Does Millie live with your parents?’

  ‘No, she boards at a wonderful school in North London. But she’ll be eighteen in April, so she’ll have to leave it this summer, which is a shame because she loves it there.’

  ‘So where will she go? To your parents’?’

  ‘No.’ I pause for a moment, because I know that what I am about to say will shock her. ‘They live in New Zealand.’

  Esther does a double take. ‘New Zealand?’

  ‘Yes. They retired there last year, just after our wedding.’

  ‘I see,’ she says. But I know she doesn’t.

  ‘Millie will be moving in with us,’ Jack explains. He smiles over at me. ‘I knew it would be a condition to Grace accepting to marry me and it was one that I was more than happy to comply with.’

  ‘That’s very generous of you,’ Esther says.

  ‘Not at all—I’m delighted that Millie will be living here. It will add another dimension to our lives, won’t it, darling?’

  I lift my glass and take a sip of my wine so that I don’t have to answer.

  ‘You obviously get on well with her,’ Esther remarks.

  ‘Well, I hope she’s as fond of me as I am of her—although it did take her a while once Grace and I were actually married.’

  ‘Why was that?’

  ‘I think the reality of our marriage was a shock to her,’ I tell her. ‘She had adored Jack from the beginning, but when we came back from our honeymoon and she realised that he was going to be with me the whole time, she became jealous. She’s fine now, though. Jack is once again her favourite person.’

  ‘Thankfully George Clooney has taken my place as Millie’s object of dislike,’ Jack laughs.

  ‘George Clooney?’ Esther queries.

  ‘Yes.’ I nod, glad that Jack has brought it up. ‘I had this thing about him …’

  ‘Don’t we all?’ murmurs Diane.

  ‘… and Millie was so jealous that when some friends gave me a George Clooney calendar for Christmas one year, she scrawled on it “I don’t like George Clooney”, except that she spelt it phonetically—J-O-R-J K-O-O-N-Y—she has a bit of trouble with the “L”,’ I explain. ‘It was so sweet.’

  Everyone laughs.

  ‘And now she never stops telling everyone that she likes me but she doesn’t like him. It’s become a bit of a mantra—“I like you, Jack, but I don’t like George Cooney”.’ Jack smiles. ‘I must admit that I’m quite flattered at being mentioned in the same breath,’ he adds modestly.

  Esther looks at him. ‘You know, you do look a bit like him.’

  ‘Except that Jack is much better looking.’ Adam grins. ‘You can’t believe how relieved we all were when he married Grace. At least it stopped the women in the office fantasising about him—and some of the men too,’ he adds laughingly.

  Jack sighs good-naturedly. ‘That’s enough, Adam.’

  ‘You don’t work, do you?’ Esther says, turning back to me. I detect in her voice the thinly veiled scorn that working women reserve for those who don’t, and feel compelled to defend myself.

  ‘I used to, but I gave up my job just before Jack and I got married.’

  ‘Really?’ Esther frowns. ‘Why?’

  ‘She didn’t want to,’ Jack intervenes. ‘But she had a high-powered job and I didn’t want to come home exhausted and find that Grace was just as exhausted as I was. It was perhaps selfish of me to ask her to give up her job but I wanted to be able to come home and offload the stress of my day rather than be offloaded onto. She also travelled quite a lot and I didn’t want to come home to an empty house, as I already had done for many years.’

  ‘What was your job?’ Esther asks, fixing me with her pale-blue eyes.

  ‘I was a buyer for Harrods.’

  The flicker in her eyes tells me she’s impressed. The fact that she doesn’t ask me to expand tells me that she’s not going to show it yet.

  ‘She used to travel all over the world first class,’ Diane says breathlessly.

  ‘Not all over the world,’ I correct. ‘Just to South America. I sourced their fruit, mainly from Chile and Argentina,’ I add, largely for Esther’s benefit.

  Rufus looks at me admiringly. ‘That must have been interesting.’

  ‘It was.’ I nod. ‘I loved every minute of it.’

  ‘You must miss it, then.’ Another statement from Esther.

  ‘No, not really,’ I lie. ‘I have plenty here to keep me occupied.’

  ‘And soon you’ll have Millie to look after.’

  ‘Millie is very independent and anyway, she’ll be working most of the time at Meadow Gate.’

  ‘The garden centre?’

  ‘Yes. She loves plants and flowers so she’s very lucky to have been offered the perfect job.’

  ‘So what will you do all day long?’

  ‘Much the same as I do now—you know, cooking, cleaning, gardening—when the weather permits.’

  ‘You’ll have to come for Sunday lunch next time and see the garden,’ says Jack. ‘Grace has green fingers.’

  ‘Goodness,’ says Esther lightly. ‘So many talents. I’m so glad I was offered a post at St Polycarp’s. I was getting quite bored being at home all day.’

  ‘When do you start?’

  ‘Next month. I’m replacing a teacher on maternity leave.’

  I turn to Rufus. ‘Jack tells me you have a huge garden,’ I prompt and, while I serve more of the beef Wellington, which, along with the vegetables, has been keeping warm on a hotplate, the conversation around the table revolves around landscaping rather than me. As everyone laughs and talks together, I find myself looking wistfully at the other women and wondering what it must be like to be Diane, or Esther, to not have someone like Millie to consider. I immediately feel guilty because I love Millie more than life itself and wouldn’t change her for the world. Just thinking about her gives me new resolve and I get purposefully to my feet.

  ‘Is everyone ready for dessert?’ I ask.

  Jack and I clear the table and he follows me through to the kitchen, where I place the plates neatly in the sink to be rinsed off later while he tidies the carving knife away. The dessert I’ve made is a masterpiece—a perfect un-cracked meringue nest three inches high, filled with whipped Devon cream. I fetch the fruit I prepared earlier and place slices of mango, pineapple, papaya and kiwi carefully onto the cream and then add strawberries, raspberries and blueberries.

  As I pick up a pomegranate, the feel of it in my hand transports me b
ack to another time, another place, where the warmth of the sun on my face and the chatter of excited voices were things I took for granted. I close my eyes briefly, remembering the life I used to have.

  Conscious of Jack waiting, his hand outstretched, I hand the fruit to him. He slices it in half and then I scoop out the seeds with a spoon and sprinkle them over the rest of the fruit. The dessert complete, I carry it through to the dining room, where the exclamations that greet its arrival confirm that Jack was right to choose it over the chestnut and chocolate gateau I would have preferred to make.

  ‘Would you believe that Grace has never done a cookery course?’ Diane says to Esther, picking up her spoon. ‘I’m in awe of such perfection, aren’t you? Although I’m never going to get into the bikini I bought,’ she adds, groaning and patting her stomach through her navy linen dress. ‘I shouldn’t really be eating this considering that we’ve just booked to go away this summer but it’s so delicious I can’t resist!’

  ‘Where are you going?’ Rufus asks.

  ‘Thailand,’ Adam tells him. ‘We were going to go to Vietnam but when we saw the photos of Jack and Grace’s latest holiday in Thailand, we decided to keep Vietnam for next year.’ He looks over at Diane and grins. ‘Once Diane had seen the hotel they stayed in, that was it.’

  ‘So are you going to the same hotel, then?’

  ‘No, it was fully booked. Unfortunately, we don’t have the luxury of being able to go on holiday out of term-time.’

  ‘Make the most of it while you can,’ Esther says, turning to me.

  ‘I intend to.’

  ‘Are you going back to Thailand this year?’ Adam asks.

  ‘Only if we can go before June, which isn’t likely with the Tomasin case coming up,’ says Jack. He looks meaningfully across the table at me. ‘After that, well, Millie will be with us.’

  I hold my breath, hoping no one will suggest that if we wait, we’ll be able to take Millie along too.

  ‘Tomasin?’ Rufus raises his eyebrows. ‘I heard something about that. Is his wife one of your clients?’

  ‘Yes, she is.’

  ‘Dena Anderson,’ he muses. ‘That must be an interesting case.’

  ‘It is,’ Jack agrees. He turns to me. ‘Darling, if everyone’s finished, why don’t you show Esther the photos of our last holiday in Thailand?’

  My heart sinks. ‘I’m sure she doesn’t want to see our holiday snaps,’ I say, keeping my voice purposefully light. But even that slight suggestion of discord between the two of us is enough for Esther.

  ‘I would love to see them!’ she exclaims.

  Jack pushes his chair back and stands up. He takes the photo album from the drawer and hands it to Esther. ‘Then Grace and I will make coffee while you look at the photographs. Why don’t you go through to the sitting room—you’ll be more comfortable there.’

  By the time we come back from the kitchen with a tray of coffee, Diane is exclaiming over the photos, although Esther doesn’t say much.

  I have to admit that the photos are stunning and, in those where I can be seen, I am shown to my advantage: beautifully tanned, as slim as I was in my twenties, and wearing one of my many bikinis. In most of the photos, I’m standing in front of a luxurious hotel, or lying on its private beach, or sitting in a bar or restaurant with a colourful cocktail and a plate of exotic food in front of me. In each one I am smiling up at the camera, the epitome of a relaxed and pampered woman very much in love with her husband. Jack is something of a perfectionist when it comes to taking photographs and takes the same shot over and over again until he is happy with the result, so I have learnt to get it right the first time. There are also some photographs of the two of us, taken by amenable strangers. It is Diane who points out teasingly that in those photographs, Jack and I are often gazing adoringly at each other rather than at the camera.

  Jack pours the coffee.

  ‘Would anyone like a chocolate?’ I ask, reaching as casually as I can for the box that Esther brought.

  ‘I’m sure we’ve all had quite enough to eat,’ Jack suggests, looking around at everyone for confirmation.

  ‘Definitely,’ says Rufus.

  ‘I couldn’t eat another thing,’ Adam groans.

  ‘Then I’ll put them away for another day.’ Jack holds his hand out for the box and I’m just resigning myself to never tasting them when Diane comes to the rescue.

  ‘Don’t you dare—I’m sure I can fit in a chocolate or two.’

  ‘I suppose there’s no point mentioning your bikini,’ Adam sighs, shaking his head in mock despair at his wife.

  ‘Absolutely no point at all,’ Diane agrees, taking a chocolate from the box Jack has handed her and passing it to me. I take one, pop it in my mouth and offer the box to Esther. When she declines to take one, I take another before passing the box back to Diane.

  ‘How do you do it?’ Diane asks, looking at me in wonder.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Eat so much and never put on weight.’

  ‘Luck,’ I say, reaching over and taking another chocolate. ‘And control.’

  It’s only when the clock strikes half-twelve that Esther suggests making a move. In the hall, Jack hands out the coats and, while he helps Diane and Esther on with theirs, I agree to meet them in town the following Friday at ‘Chez Louis’ for lunch at twelve-thirty. Diane hugs me goodbye and when I shake Esther’s hand I tell her that I’m looking forward to seeing her again at the lunch. The men kiss me goodbye and, as they leave, everybody thanks us for a perfect evening. In fact, there are so many ‘perfects’ ringing round the hall as Jack closes the door behind them that I know I’ve triumphed. But I need to make sure that Jack knows I have.

  ‘We need to leave at eleven tomorrow,’ I say, turning to him. ‘To get there in time to take Millie for lunch.’

  PAST

  My life became perfect eighteen months ago, the day Jack danced with Millie in the park. Some of what I told Esther was true—I’d seen Jack in the park the previous Sunday but hadn’t thought he’d be interested in someone like me. First of all, he was exceptionally good-looking and back then I didn’t look as good as I do now. And then there was Millie.

  Sometimes I told my boyfriends about her from the beginning, sometimes—if I liked them a lot—I said that I had a younger sister who was away at school but only mentioned that she had Down’s syndrome a few weeks into the relationship. Some, when I told them, didn’t know what to say and didn’t stay around long enough to say anything much at all. Others were interested, supportive even, until they met Millie and were unable to classify her spontaneity as wonderful, as Jack did. Two of the best were still there long after they met her, but even they had trouble accepting what a huge part of my life Millie was.

  The clincher was always the same; I’d told Millie from the beginning that when the time came for her to leave her wonderful but highly expensive school she would come and live with me, and I had no intention of letting her down. It meant that six months previously I’d had to let go of Alex, the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with, the man who I’d lived very happily with for two years. But when Millie had turned sixteen, the imminence of her arrival began to weigh heavily on him—which is why I found myself, at thirty-two years old, single once again and seriously doubting that I would ever find a man who would accept both Millie and me.

  In the park that day, I wasn’t the only one who noticed Jack, although I was probably the most discreet. Some—mainly the younger women—smiled at him openly, trying to catch his attention, while teenage girls giggled behind their hands and whispered excitedly that he had to be a film star. The older women looked at him appreciatively and then, more often than not, at the man walking beside them, as if they found him wanting. Even the men looked at Jack as he walked through the park, as there was a casual elegance about him that couldn’t be ignored. The only one who remained oblivious to him was Millie. Engrossed in the card game we were playing, there was only one thought in he
r mind—winning.

  Like many others that day in late August, we were picnicking on the grass not far from the bandstand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jack head for a nearby bench and, when he took a book from his pocket, I turned my attention back to Millie, determined not to let him see me looking at him. As Millie dealt the cards for yet another game, I decided he was probably a foreigner, an Italian perhaps, in London for the weekend with his wife and children who were visiting some monument or other and would join him later.

  As far as I was concerned, he didn’t even look my way that afternoon, unperturbed, it seemed, by Millie’s loud cries of ‘Snap!’ We left soon after because I had to get Millie back to her school by six o’clock, in time for dinner at seven. Even though I didn’t think I’d ever see him again, my mind returned again and again to the man I’d seen in the park and I found myself pretending that he wasn’t married, that he had noticed me and had fallen in love with me and planned to return to the park the following Sunday in the hope of seeing me again. I hadn’t fantasised about a man in such a way since I was a teenager and it made me realise how much I was beginning to despair of ever getting married and having a family. Although I was devoted to Millie, I had always imagined that by the time she came to live with me I would have children of my own, so she would become a part of my family rather than my sole family. I loved her dearly, but the thought of the two of us growing old together on our own filled me with dread.

  The following week, the day the band was playing in the park, I didn’t see Jack until he walked up to where Millie was dancing by herself in front of the bandstand, her arms around a partner only she could see. At such times, the emotions Millie provoked in me were often hard to deal with. While I was fiercely proud of her, that she had managed to master the steps she was performing, I was also fiercely protective, and when I heard someone laughing behind me I had to remind myself that their laughter was probably kind and that even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t affect Millie’s enjoyment of what she was doing. But the urge to stand up and bring her back to her seat was so strong that I hated myself for it, and for just about the first time I found myself wishing that Millie was ordinary. Images flashed through my mind of how our lives—my life—could have been and it was as I was quickly blinking away the tears of frustration which had filled my eyes that I saw Jack making his way towards Millie.