Hand On Heart: Sequel to Head Over Heels

by Downing, Sara

  ‘Just shut up James, will you?’ she snapped.

  It took until the first sighting of the chateau for everyone’s mood to lift. James sat in sulky silence, almost as tangible as his teenage daughter’s. He didn’t take too kindly to being told off by his wife, in front of his girls, but Evie was unrepentant and thought he deserved it.

  Immy was the first one out of the car. ‘Wow,’ she exclaimed, wide-eyed with excitement, before running off to greet the chateau owner and practise her GCSE French on him, much to the shock and surprise of her parents. Teenagers could be such changeable creatures.

  Evie sighed at her daughter’s sudden transformation, back to human being once more. Teenagers didn’t come with a manual – you had to make it up as you went along, and life was so unpredictable. Looking across at her now, it was a child that she saw again, no pretences, no attempting to keep up appearances or to look ‘cool’, just an uncomplicated child, excited to be arriving in a new place, with two whole weeks stretching ahead of her, full of all sorts of possibilities.

  May 2014

  ‘Whatever would you do without me?’ Evie joked.

  James had just emerged from the bathroom, wearing nothing but a distracted frown. He picked his clean boxers up off the bed and put them on, as Evie handed him the dress shirt she had just spent the last ten minutes ironing. Once again no partners were invited to the dinner he had to attend that evening, and she was surprised at how disappointed that left her feeling. Her social life seemed to have waned to almost non-existent lately, annoyingly just as they reached the stage in their life when babysitters were no longer necessary and it would have been easy to go out more often.

  There was a time when she’d been at James’ side at all these social functions, the glamorous wife who wasn’t just a plus-one, but was the real ‘first lady’ of the business, a significant shareholder and an asset for James to have by his side. She supposed that in this era of austerity, dropping partners from the invitation list must slash costs drastically for these companies, but then why throw a lavish dinner at all, if you really wanted to keep expenditure down? And so it looked like being another night home alone with the remote control for her, as both girls were sleeping over at friends’ houses.

  ‘Oh, thanks, hun,’ James said absentmindedly, picking up the shirt and shrugging it on, before heading to the mirror to have a first attempt at tying his bow tie.

  ‘Come here, do you want me to do it?’ Evie offered. Even after all the black tie do’s he had attended over the years, he still freaked out the moment the tie came out of the box, squinting at it as though it was some kind of complicated origami kit.

  ‘No, I’m fine. Let me do it.’ He gave her an unceremonious shove with his elbow. Unintentional, she hoped.

  ‘Ouch, what was that for? I’m only trying to help.’

  ‘Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to do that. It’s just… It’s just easier for me to do it myself.’ He still hadn’t made eye contact with her since coming out of the bathroom. Whatever was the matter with him this evening? He didn’t seem to want her there, wanted to just get ready and go out, without any input from her. Although wasn’t it funny how he was quite happy to let her do the tedious wifely bits like the ironing? Typical bloke. There was a time when she would have laid on the bed, watching him dress, they’d have had a glass of wine together, chatted and flirted and, had time permitted, he would have thrown caution to the wind and joined her on the bed, even if it meant crumpling his shirt.

  ‘What’s the matter James? You’re being really snappy. Have I done something to piss you off somehow? Because if I have, there’s nothing I can put my finger on. Tell me, come on. What’s eating you?’

  Well, that had turned into a bit of a rant. She hadn’t intended it to be, but she couldn’t help giving vent to her feelings. She could sense James’ defences rising.

  ‘Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Look, I’ve got to go, the car’s just pulled up.’ He glanced out of the window; Evie hadn’t heard a car. ‘Don’t wait up for me.’ He finished fiddling with the errant bow tie and grabbed his jacket from the hanger. About to leave the room, a sudden change of heart caused him to take a few steps back and kiss her quickly on the cheek.

  Don’t worry, I have absolutely no intention whatsoever of waiting up for you, Evie thought, especially if you’re in that kind of mood. What had happened to her husband? Whatever it was, she would make sure she was well asleep before he came home. She didn’t like going to bed with bad feelings between them, but she certainly wasn’t hanging around for him to come home either, a more drunken, and probably more cantankerous version of what he was now.

  James wasn’t himself at all. And this wasn’t the first time his behaviour had been uncharacteristic. But the opportunity to talk to him about it hadn’t really arisen, as they had spent so very little time alone together recently. It seemed that either the girls were always around, or when they were at home alone, James was busy in his study on some important call or other and couldn’t be interrupted. When was the last time they’d been out together, just the two of them, or sat down at home, alone, chatting over a late supper or a glass of wine? Suddenly she missed him desperately, missed those times when they’d been happy. Why weren’t they happy anymore? What had gone so wrong?

  A Few Weeks Later

  Evie was in bits. James had stormed out of the house in a foul temper and she didn’t know when he’d be back. Things had come to a head when he’d been unable to explain to her where he had been the previous night. A few years ago she wouldn’t even have thought to question him, but his recent behaviour had started to make her suspicious. She was terrified that her suspicions might be confirmed this evening.

  A hotel had called to tell him he’d left his credit card behind. He’d told Evie earlier that he had a business dinner with a potential new client in town, and he’d be late home, but he would be home. As far as she knew, no hotels were involved. He hadn’t stayed away, so why would they be? Her stomach churned with fear as the thought occurred to her that there was only one reason why someone would book a hotel room and then not stay there.

  ‘Come on, James, I’m not stupid. Are you seeing someone? Or do I need to be more graphic? Are you FUCKING someone? Because isn’t that what people do when they book a hotel, but don’t stay the night? Usually married men who need somewhere to screw their mistress before they go home to their unsuspecting wives? Isn’t that how it works? Hotel rooms by the hour? How seedy can you get? How can you be so stupid, and more importantly, how can you do that to me and the girls?’

  But James denied everything. He wasn’t seeing anyone, no one at all, so he said. He must have left his credit card there on another occasion. He was working hard to court new business and keep the company afloat as they had weathered the recession so well, he said, managing to twist things round and make Evie feel bad for accusing him in the first place. A couple of big clients now would sort them out for years to come, but it all took effort and, well, he was sorry if he’d been preoccupied recently, but that was all it was.

  She would have liked to believe him, but his excuses sounded hollow.

  August 2015

  The first full day of the holiday dawned bright and blue-skied, just like Henri said it had been for the entire summer so far, and would be for the full two weeks of their stay. ‘Wow, you own a place like this AND can guarantee the weather,’ James had joked with him in near-fluent French as the kindly owner showed them round their half of the chateau. ‘You have to be on to a winner there!’

  Evie grabbed her book and a towel and headed for the pool. Grace was already there, looking amazing in a blue and white bikini, even if she was a shade alabaster-white. That’ll soon change if the weather stays like this, Evie thought to herself.

  ‘Blimey, do I need to rush out at six am and bag a lounger with my towel?’ Evie joked with her friend as she parked herself on the seat next to Grace’s.

  ‘Couldn’t wait for the old man to drag himself out
of bed. I mean, just look at this place. Fabulous, isn’t it? Best time of the day.’ The warmth of the early sun held the promise of a scorcher of a day to come. Both women gazed from poolside to the deep valley beyond, which was filled with a dense forest. At this time of the morning the sun caught the tips of the trees, turning them a bluey green, so that it was almost like gazing out across an ocean.

  The peace of the moment was shattered by Lily and Jack, who came hurtling from the chateau like a pair of wind-up toys.

  ‘First one in the pool’s a loser!’ Jack shouted, making the ‘L’ sign above his head at his sister.

  ‘Where do they learn these delightful things from, so young?’ Evie joked. ‘Can’t believe they pick up stuff like that in that lovely little school of yours, Grace?’

  Grace laughed, then looked on in horror as Jack dive-bombed into the pool, without his armbands, which was a first. He didn’t seem to realise, but it didn’t hold him back. She jumped up quickly, expecting to have to fish a spluttery five-year-old from the pool, but Jack surfaced on his own, slicking back his hair and beaming from ear to ear, as surprised as she was at having done that for the first time, fearless and unaided.

  ‘Well done, darling, that was amazing!’ she exclaimed, quickly turning her shock into a positive reaction to her son’s antics. Not wanting to be outdone, Lily dived in behind him and surfaced confidently at the side of the pool as well. Both had been having swimming lessons since they were toddlers, and could doggy paddle easily across their local pool, but neither had yet been brave enough to leave the arm bands off. Those days were over, it would seem, another milestone reached. And this was only day one of their holiday. If the pair of them carried on like this, they’d have webbed feet by the time they went home. There was just something so much nicer about swimming out in the open, in a warm pool, with the sun beating down on you.

  Evie was amazed to see her girls emerging from the house, too. OK, so not at the same speed as the twins, and with a far more nonchalant air about them. But Evie was pleased to see they were smiling and shoulders were un-hunched; both were wearing suitable poolside attire, which, much to Evie’s relief, wasn’t accessorised by a mobile gadget of some description. Just a book, a towel and a bottle of sun cream, all you needed for a day by the pool. And the most astonishing thing of all was, it was only nine o’clock, which was several long hours earlier than Immy would normally surface on a non-school day, back at home. Miracles could happen on holidays, it seemed…

  ‘Muuuum, the Wi-Fi’s gone again,’ had been the constant moan from their eldest daughter during the first evening of their stay, then in sheer exasperation, she had switched off her phone, accepting that Instagram and Snapchat just weren’t really going to happen for her while they were there. Evie was glad to see the back of all that. It would do the girls good to have a break from the constant need to update their status and inform the world every time they sniffed.

  Both girls threw their things down at the side of the pool and the twins watched, utterly rapt, as they dived elegantly into the deep end. Grace smiled at the sheer, unadulterated hero-worship on her daughter’s face as she watched the ‘big girls’.

  ‘Immy, Immy, catch me,’ Jack called to Immy. Jack ran round to the side of the pool as Immy stretched out her arms.

  ‘Woohoo, look at me,’ he called, as his sister joined the queue to jump on Immy.

  Oh no, poor girls, they were going to be stuck doing this all day, or at least until the twins wore themselves out, Grace chuckled to herself.

  There was a shout from the chateau: ‘Anyone for rosé?’

  ‘At this time of the morning? You’re having a laugh!’ Evie called back to her husband. ‘Coffee, though, please?’

  ‘Stuff that, who wants coffee when you can have wine. Bring it on!’ Grace called back to him, and he emerged from the kitchen, bearing a bottle. Tom followed close on his heels with the glasses.

  ‘Start as you mean to go on, eh?’ Tom said, planting a kiss on his wife’s cheek as he put down the glasses.

  ‘Can I have some?’ asked Immy, climbing out of the water.

  ‘Not at this time of day, darling,’ was her mother’s reply. ‘A little drop at lunchtime, maybe.’ Like the French, Evie had a fairly relaxed attitude towards the girls trying alcohol, provided it was in moderation and under close parental supervision. Better that than it became a forbidden substance, and then they went off the rails at the earliest opportunity, like she’d seen so many of her friends do in their youth.

  Evie was glad that the tensions of the previous day had lifted. James had made no further mention of the incident at the service station, and had switched into full-on holiday mode. Despite everything, she was determined to enjoy this holiday, no matter what. Look at the girls, even they seemed to be relaxing, and they’d only been here a few hours. Her daughters were splashing around in the pool with the twins as though they were ten years younger; all the teen hang-ups seemingly gone. It was refreshing to think that they could still revert to being children, which, after all, was what they were.

  Evie relaxed back onto her lounger, in the sure and certain knowledge that all the children could be left to get on with it, whilst she got on with the serious business of relaxing and getting a tan. James and Tom were chatting amicably at the other end of the pool; she was pleased to see that Tom seemed happy in James’ company again. He had been so loyal to her when things had turned nasty last year and had had trouble forgiving James when it had all settled down again, which was understandable. He’d taken the same stance as his wife and put Evie first, which was lovely of him.

  She wondered what the next couple of weeks would hold, how she and James would get on, being under the same roof all the time. Ideally she’d like to leave for home with a deeper sense that her marriage was fixed, or at least in the knowledge that it was fixable. Although she and James had ticked along reasonably well for a while now, back to a near state of normalness, was there ever really a ‘normal’ again, when you’d been through what they had? She felt there was still a lot missing from their relationship.

  Too many deep thoughts for this early in the morning, she thought, reaching for her paperback with one hand and her glass of wine with the other. What wasn’t to like about a holiday like this? All she needed to do was get on and enjoy it.

  Seven - James

  August 2015

  James stretched out on his lounger with a strong sense of déjà vu. It probably had something to do with the fact that they’d barely left the chateau in the past few days, as all were happy to chill out poolside and enjoy the endless sunshine, the warm evenings, the constant – although seldom excessive – flow of alcohol, and the general sense of wonderful camaraderie that was forming between them all, adults and children alike.

  ‘Ahhh, this is the life!’ he exclaimed, as his eldest daughter filled his glass from the jug of Pimms she’d just made up. ‘Mum’s got you well trained, hasn’t she? But really, should I be worried that you know, at the ripe old age of sixteen, how to make up the perfect Pimms?’

  ‘Nahh, Dad, it’s all that waitressing I’ve had to do at your dinner parties. You know, the ones you never paid me for?’

  He was happy to see Immy smiling, and relieved at how quickly she’d shaken off her normal teenage angst and was relaxing into the holiday pace of life. Evie was convinced it was the lack of Wi-Fi – or actually the really rather rubbish, intermittent ‘Wee-Fee’, as Henri, the chateau owner, called it – which had propelled their daughter from her online world back into the real one. Sometimes he regretted the fact that his daughters’ childhoods were so blighted by the blind dependence on gadgetry which had taken over twenty-first century living. His own summer holidays had been carefree and wild, as had most of his peers’, he was sure, and he was heartened to see just how happy his girls were once the complications of the modern world were removed. It made everyone’s lives easier that Immy, in particular, had decided to go with the flow and join in with the holiday t
hrong, rather than trying to beat them the whole time. If only life was so simple at home, James thought, whilst recognising that it was usually his wife, not him, on the receiving end of Immy’s angst. He resolved to devote more time to his girls, talk to them more. After all, in a couple of years Immy could well have left home for university, and her childhood would be over.

  ‘Daddy, can you come in the pool with us?’ yelled Anastasia. Jack was balanced precariously on her shoulders, and she launched him, wailing with delight, into the air and then down with a splash. Much as she adored the twins, James could see that his daughter was tiring a little of being the focus of two five-year-olds’ constant attentions. She wanted a bit of Daddy-time for herself.

  ‘Again, again,’ yelled Jack, circling back on Ana as though she were a fairground attraction. Lily, happily paddling around at the opposite end of the pool and chatting away to herself, got wise to the entertainment going on at the other end and doggie-paddled across to join the queue to be thrown up in the air. Grace looked on, ever mindful of the fact that her babies were only five, despite their level of determination to join in with the older girls as much as they could. She was grateful to the two teens for the time they were happy to invest in Lily and Jack. They really seemed to be enjoying it too, and it was lovely that, despite the huge age difference, all four children could simply spend a whole day playing together.

  James stood up and stretched theatrically, glancing over at Evie to see if she was watching him. She surreptitiously raised her book a little higher so that, although she could see over the top, James couldn’t see that she could see. Her sunglasses were dark enough for him not to be able to work out the direction of her gaze.