‘Can I have a quick word with you in the hall, please?’ I ask, because I honestly have no idea how to tell if Henry is or isn’t listening.
‘Erm, yeah, sure,’ he says. ‘After you.’
‘I was just getting your dirty washing out of your bag and I found this receipt. I wasn’t snooping,’ I insist – why am I being defensive?
‘Just… wait there,’ he says as he hurries his shoes on.
Rich is only outside a matter of seconds – he doesn’t even close the front door behind him, he’s so fast – before he re-emerges with a huge bunch of flowers.
‘These are for you,’ he tells me. ‘To say thank you for last night.’
I narrow my eyes at him. He should know better than to think I was born yesterday – I have the same birthday as his wife, after all…
‘Really?’
‘Really, read the card,’ he says.
Sure enough, there’s an envelope on one of those little plastic sticks they shove into the bouquet. I open it and there’s a cute little card, covered with love hearts, that reads:
‘Emmylou. Beautiful flowers for my beautiful wife. Rich x’
‘Emmylou?’ I say out loud.
‘In case the kids see the card,’ he tells me. ‘Writing “thank you for last night” felt really weird, so I just wrote something generic.’
‘Aw, Rich, they’re beautiful,’ I reply. ‘God, I actually thought you were having an affair.’
‘Well, congratulations, then, you’ve got the wife thing down to a fine art,’ he jokes.
‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘This really is very sweet of you.’
‘You deserve them,’ he insists. ‘Right, I really am going back to work now. I’ll see you when I get in.’
‘OK,’ I reply. ‘Sorry again.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ He laughs.
As I stand at the door and wave Rich off, with my gorgeous flowers in my arms, I can’t help but laugh to myself. Rich, writing mushy cards to me, and me, getting personally offended at the idea of him having an affair. It’s hilarious really, I suppose, because I’ve been working so hard at being his wife, it just seems like a slap in the face, if he were to be going elsewhere. Although I am just cooking his tea and washing his dirty pants, and I doubt that’s what he would be going elsewhere for.
As for Rich’s card, I’m sure he is just trying to keep our secret, and not blow our cover by addressing something to me with my real name. Unless of course he meant what he said… but that wouldn’t be funny at all.
34
‘Can we talk?’ John asks me under his breath.
I dared to venture to the kitchen at work, alone, to make myself a cup of tea and he’s pounced on me – well, so to speak. He hasn’t literally pounced on me, not again.
‘There’s nothing to talk about,’ I tell him. ‘Let’s just forget it.’
‘But you told me you love your husband, but everyone is talking about you, and I’m starting to think you were just using me,’ he says, sounding a little hurt.
‘John, they’re just rumours, started by horrible, jealous women,’ I tell him. ‘What we did was wrong, and it was a mistake, and you should just focus on making things work with your wife – for your family’s sake.’
Ergh, this is horrible. I’m more than used to putting out my own fires – sometimes literally – but I begrudge taking the flak for other people’s mistakes.
More than anything, I can’t understand what Emma was thinking, kissing this guy. Her life seems perfect, and not just from the outside looking in – I am literally living her life and I’m really starting to love it.
‘Here she is,’ Marco says, physically pushing himself between us. ‘I thought you’d gone to China for that tea. Come on, back to work.’
I grab our drinks and head back to my office, with Marco close behind me, hurrying me along.
‘Well, you were right,’ I tell him, the second we’re back behind closed doors. ‘He was over before the kettle boiled.’
‘He’ll get bored if you just ignore him,’ Marco says.
‘Don’t they say absence makes the heart grow fonder?’ I reply.
‘Speaking of that…’ Marco pauses to sip his tea, which has to be way too hot to drink; It seems as if he’s stalling. ‘I got a call from Zoe today.’
‘Zoe?’
‘My ex,’ he says. ‘The one who gave me the boot when I lost my job.’
‘Ah,’ I reply.
‘She wants me to go for a drink with her tonight… apparently she wants to talk now.’
For some reason just hearing the words leaving Marco’s lips gives me this strange feeling in my stomach, as if my breakfast is trying to come back up, and now that I’m thinking about how I feel, my breathing doesn’t feel quite as it should. Oh my God, I’m jealous. I’m actually jealous.
‘So, er, are you going to go?’ I ask him.
‘I thought I might “Ask Alison”,’ he says with a laugh. ‘See what she says…’
Oh, God, no, please don’t ask me. How am I supposed to answer that? If Marco were just anyone, knowing what I know about their break-up, I would tell him to run a mile, because when the going gets tough, you need a partner who isn’t going to tell you to get going. She kicked him out on his arse when he was down, and I know what that feels like…
However, given how inexplicably jealous I’m feeling right now, am I just telling myself that I would tell him to do that, to stop him going?
I’ve always fancied Marco, from the second I embarrassed myself in front of him, but several factors – me pretending to be my sister, needing a friend, him having recently had his heart broken, the fact he’s so totally completely out of my league but also way too much like me and so on – made me realise that a crush was all it was ever going to be. But I’d already considered this and just shoved it to the back of my mind, happy to have him as a friend when I really needed one. Plus, I was so distracted by Christian, who seems perfect on paper, but now that Marco is talking about seeing his ex, it’s all coming back to the forefront…
‘Do you want to go?’ I ask him.
‘Kind of,’ he says. ‘I’d be interested to hear her out… she sounded like she thought she’d made a mistake.’
‘Well, you should go, then,’ I tell him. ‘Go and hear her out and then see how you feel.’
‘Do you really think so?’ he asks. He seems surprised by my reply, as if he was expecting me to say something different. This just makes me double down.
‘Yeah, absolutely,’ I say confidently. ‘We all make mistakes.’
‘We definitely do,’ he replies. ‘Me and you, that is.’
I laugh.
‘We certainly do,’ I say with a smile.
I think that might be why I’ve ruled out the idea of anything happening between us, because we really are so alike – too alike, probably. Whenever you have someone who is a natural disaster in a relationship, it needs to be with someone who can neutralise them. I’m a fire and Marco is petrol – what I need is water, or it will be absolute carnage.
‘Take the rest of the afternoon off, if you need to get ready,’ I tell him, trying to sound as OK with this as possible, and probably sounding the opposite.
‘Ella, she dumped me. She’ll be lucky if I brush my teeth,’ he jokes. ‘It’s fine, we’ve got work to do. You got any big plans for this evening?’
‘Hmm, let’s see,’ I wonder out loud. ‘Loads of washing – in both senses of the word – making dinner – and half the battle with dinner is thinking of what to have, day after day, figuring out what to cook, and making sure it’s something everyone will eat.’
Marco laughs.
‘Family life, eh?’
‘You can’t beat it,’ I reply. ‘You’ll just have to have enough fun for the both of us.’
Of course, I didn’t think that through before I said it, and it sounds completely weird, out loud. As if I just gave him the verbal equivalent of a packet of condoms, a Barry White CD and
an encouraging pat on the back.
I’m not going to sit here and feel down about it, I’m going to get on with my day and make the most of my situation. I might try and initiate some family time for the four of us tonight – perhaps we could get a takeaway and watch a movie? Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll focus on my family… while they’re still my family, at least.
35
I wonder what my niece, who is convinced she is fat, will be more likely to eat: Chinese or fish and chips. I imagine she’ll make a case for both being too unhealthy – but that’s if she’ll even speak to me, because it’s been radio silence since the last time. It’s funny – as much as I had my issues with my mum and her parenting techniques, I wouldn’t have dared ignore her if she spoke to me.
I call Rich, to see what he fancies, but he doesn’t pick up, which means he must be still working.
Henry is so engrossed in his game that his eyes have glazed over and his tongue is poking out of the side of his mouth, he’s concentrating so hard. With Millie not even home from school yet I allow myself to lie down on my bed, just for a few minutes.
I close my eyes and puff air from my cheeks as I wonder what Marco is doing right now. He might be getting ready – he might even be on his way there. I wonder if he’s nervous or excited and it irritates me that I care.
When I hear my phone ringing I jolt upright and snatch it up from the bed – it’s probably Rich returning my call but the idea it could be Marco…
Oh God, it’s Christian!
‘Hello,’ I say brightly, as though I’ve not been avoiding him – probably too brightly; I need to dial it back a little.
‘Hello, Emma, how are you?’ he asks me.
‘Yeah, doing great, thank you,’ I reply. ‘You?’
‘All good at this end,’ he replies. ‘Just a quick call about the fundraiser… the band have pulled out. They’ve been booked for a wedding the day before and they don’t think they’ll be able to make it back in time.’
‘Someone has booked The Sound of Musicals for a wedding?’ I reply with a laugh.
‘Apparently so, and it must be paying way better, if they’re cancelling on us,’ he replies.
‘Well, I can kind of sing, if you can play any instruments?’ I joke.
‘I have some experience playing the recorder – I hit it pretty hard, around the time I was six,’ he replies. I can hear him smiling down the phone and it makes me smile too.
‘There is a plan B though,’ he says. ‘There’s another band who do music covers – Anything Goes – who have said they can do it.’
‘That’s good,’ I reply.
‘Yeah, and they’re actually playing a gig at a pub in town tonight… I wondered if you wanted to go along, and check them out?’ he suggests.
‘Erm, yeah, I can do that, if we need someone to do that,’ I reply.
Well, it’s not like my fake family want to spend time with me, is it?
‘I thought we could go together,’ he says. ‘Just to make sure they’re the right band, and it feels like ages since I saw you last, so it would be good to catch up… and I never did get to buy you that drink.’
I smile to myself. I think Christian misses me. And it sounds to me as if he’s extending an olive branch, to get our friendship back on track. You know what? I’m going to take it. I’m not going to sit here pining after Marco. Christian is the kind of man I should be spending my time with, and I know it’s messy, but maybe we could figure all this out? Maybe I could come clean to him and admit who I really am? But will he be upset that I’ve lied to him all this time?
I think I should just go along tonight and see how I feel. And I should absolutely stop thinking about Marco. Easier said than done though, right?
It’s Friday night, I’m all dressed up, and I actually have somewhere to go.
I haven’t just made an effort to look good, I’ve made an effort to look like me, the real me, for the first time since I got here. A short black skirt and a shimmery silver vest top, topped off with an army of accessories, a leather jacket and pair of high-heeled black boots. Well, I’m going to a gig, so the rock-chick look feels appropriate. I’m also wearing way more make-up than Emma ever would, with smoky black eyes, and bright red lips.
As I look myself up and down in the full-length dressing-room mirror I genuinely feel like myself and it feels good.
I hear my phone ringing in my clutch bag so I scramble to get it out.
‘Hi, Rich, where are you?’ I ask.
‘I’m just in the office,’ he tells me. ‘I popped up to see you, when I got in, but I heard the shower running.’
That’s the problem with big houses – I had no idea he was in here too.
‘No worries,’ I tell him. ‘I was calling to see what you wanted for dinner, but Christian just called to say the band has pulled out of the fundraiser, but he’s found another one and he’s asked me to go see them live tonight to make sure they’re OK.’
‘Oh, lucky you,’ he replies. ‘Getting to go out and have fun and file it under charitable work for the school. Well, I might see if Henry wants to go bowling and for a pizza, perhaps, seeing as though Millie is sleeping at Fay’s again.’
‘Aww, he’ll love that,’ I tell him. ‘Well, if you’re definitely in the house, I’ll get going.’
‘OK, see you later,’ he replies.
I gather my things and head downstairs. I call out goodbye as I pass Rich’s office door, as well as ducking my head into the kitchen to say goodbye to Henry, who is so engrossed in his pond-building efforts that he doesn’t even form a proper ‘goodbye’, he just makes a nondescript sound.
I climb into the car, start the engine, and I’m just about to turn it off when something occurs to me. I switch the engine off again.
When Millie knows she’s going to be sleeping at Fay’s she takes an extra bag to school with her. When it’s more of a last-minute thing she comes home after school to grab her things before going back out. Perhaps she popped in while I was getting ready, but knowing that it’s the night that the party was supposed to be has me suspicious… I know she’s lied to me before, and snuck out to clubs, but she wouldn’t just lie to my face, about something so big, which I specifically told her not to do, would she?
I search through my phone until I find Fay’s mum’s number. I know that I should be trusting Millie to make the right choices, but I just need to check, so I can relax.
‘Hello, Emma,’ she says, answering after pretty much no time at all.
‘Hello, Julia, how are you?’ I ask.
‘I’m OK – is everything OK there?’ she asks quickly.
‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘All fine.’
‘Thank goodness,’ she replies. I hear her exhale with relief. ‘When I saw you calling, I was worried something might be wrong with Fay. Are you sure it’s OK, her staying the night again?’
Oh, that lying little bitch. No more Ms Nice Auntie, that’s it, I am going full Ella on her when I get my hands on her.
‘Yeah, of course,’ I reply.
‘It must feel like you have three kids, the amount of nights she’s there,’ she replies with a laugh.
‘Honestly, I don’t even notice she’s here,’ I insist. ‘OK, well, I’ll let you get back to your evening.’
‘What did you call for?’ Julia asks.
‘Oh, right, yeah… I just called to make sure you knew Fay was staying here tonight,’ I lie.
‘OK, thanks, Emma,’ she replies. ‘Thanks again, take care.’
I can’t believe Millie has gone to the party – all that ‘oh, thanks, Mum, it’s cancelled’ bullshit was to throw me off the scent, and it worked! No one likes having the wool pulled over their eyes, but I’m definitely not taking it from a fifteen-year-old.
Someone needs to teach her a lesson, and the best way I can think of to do that is to ruin her life with the strongest weapon I have: embarrassment. Nothing means more to a teen than their reputation, so if her mum turns up at the party
and kicks up a fuss, drags her out of there… ha! She won’t be invited to another party again until she’s at uni.
The only problem is, I don’t actually know where this party is, but I do know someone who can probably work it out.
‘Marco, I am so sorry to bother you on your date,’ I blurt the second he answers the phone.
‘So much to take issue with there,’ he says. ‘But you sound upset. What’s wrong?’
‘It’s Millie – she’s gone to that bloody party!’ I reply. ‘I need to work out where it is so I can go there and drag her out.’
‘Uh-oh,’ he replies. ‘I wouldn’t like to be in her shoes tonight. Tell you what, I was only just heading out – come and pick me up. I’ve got time to help you.’
‘Are you sure?’ I reply.
‘Of course,’ he insists. ‘See you in a minute.’
‘OK, I’m on my way.’
I feel terrible, calling on Marco, and I promise this isn’t just a way to sabotage his date with his ex, but if he can hack into Millie’s social media or something, I’m sure it will be easy to work out where she is.
I connect my phone to the car’s Bluetooth and tap the screen a few times before I set off.
‘Hello?’ Christian answers.
‘Hi, Christian, I’m really sorry, but I’m not going to be able to make it tonight,’ I say. ‘Are you OK to go without me?’
‘Of course,’ he replies, although he sounds disappointed. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Family emergency,’ I tell him. ‘You’re lucky you don’t have a daughter.’
‘I hope she’s OK,’ Christian replies.
Oh, I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll bet she’s having a lovely time. But she won’t be when I turn up…
36
‘Why have you dressed so sexy to crash a party full of teenagers?’ Marco asks me the second he gets in the car, before he even says hello.
‘I’m not dressing sexy to crash a party full of teenagers,’ I quickly insist. ‘I had plans to go to a gig, actually, but then my bloody fake daughter had to pull a stunt like this.’
Faking It Page 21
