Tom went quiet.
‘And today, some guy tried to pick me up when I was in the park with Melody.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I told him I wasn’t interested!’ I yelled. ‘What the fuck do you think I’d do?’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I had to be certain.’
I gave a sneering laugh. ‘How long have you been having me followed?’
‘A couple of weeks.’
I shook my head in disbelief.
‘I feel sick,’ I said. ‘I just can’t do this anymore. I’m walking on eggshells all the time anyway and now I’m even afraid to talk to someone innocently in case it’s misconstrued. I can’t live like this!’
Tom sank down into one of the breakfast bar stools.
‘What would you have done if I had fancied that guy? Were you setting me up because you wanted a divorce? Is that it?’ I jabbed a finger at him. ‘Because if that’s the case you only have to say …’
‘I’ve been through hell and back,’ he said. He dropped his face into his hands. ‘I was afraid. That you were just like …’ He stood up and walked to the window. The silence was oppressive. I held my breath as I waited for him to speak.
At last he said, ‘I was afraid you were like my mother.’
I breathed out, staring at him.
‘When I found out about Daniels, I think I lost my mind for a while. I went to see mother and she—’
Tom stopped. He shook his head, as though unable to go on for a moment, and my heart went out to him despite my anger.
‘I know. You told me you saw her. She said you were to blame.’
‘What I didn’t tell you was why we had a row. She had another man there. At the Manor. She always has men over. I guess these days they are paid for. He was a young guy. I found him naked in her bed …’
‘Christ!’ I said.
His hands were shaking. He reached for me but I folded my arms and stepped back. Tom’s dropped to his side. He blinked away tears. Then he shook his head again, dashing his fingers across his eyes. Looking away from me, he took a deep shuddering breath before continuing.
‘I saw it all the time growing up. Men came and went. She picked up total strangers and brought them home. One time she sent all the staff out for the day and I came home and found her with a man.’
‘I can’t imagine it,’ I said.
My anger deflated as Tom talked, telling me all about his wayward mother, and I gradually began to realize how much harm Isadora had caused him. Even so, he shouldn’t have spied on me. It was such an invasion.
‘I thought you’d never do that to me, Charlotte, and then … You told me you were leaving.’
A wave of guilt squashed down the final upsurge of anger. He was right. What I’d done was wrong. I’d hurt him just as Isadora had.
‘Can you forgive me?’ he said when he finished his story. He eyes pleaded for understanding.
Despite how I’d behaved what Tom had done was so intrusive. Acid burned the back of my throat as bile fought its way up even as my rage disappeared. I was still jittery, even though I knew the fire of our argument had been extinguished by his explanation.
‘I think, maybe, you need some help to deal with this,’ I said at last. ‘And to come to terms with Isadora’s behaviour. No child should have to see that. I’m sorry for what I did to you. But you have to trust me or we can’t go on. Forgiving you isn’t the issue for me, Tom. It’s believing that you have faith in me again. That’s what’s important.’
Tom let out a breath. ‘I’ll ring them and call them off,’ he said. ‘I promise I won’t do this again.’
‘And you’ll talk to someone? A counsellor?’
Tom nodded. ‘I promise.’
‘Can I hold you?’ Tom said.
I couldn’t refuse this time but my nerves still felt raw. I was relieved when the landline phone rang and Tom went to answer it. A few seconds later he came back into the living room.
Tom’s face was completely white. He wore the same harried expression as the night when I told him I was leaving him.
‘What’s happened?’ I said.
‘Isadora,’ he said. ‘She’s sick … It … It’s serious.’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‘She’s been ill for a while,’ the doctor explained. ‘Pancreatic cancer.’
‘Then we have to get her the best care,’ I said.
Tom was struck dumb by the doctor’s answer and so I took and held his hand. I knew this couldn’t be easy for him. We sat in the doctor’s office at a private medical clinic in Mayfair. It was difficult to take it in because we hadn’t seen Isadora yet.
After the phone call, I’d rung Tina and asked her to come back and stay with Melody while we went to the hospital.
‘She asked me not to call you, but I felt I had to,’ the doctor said. ‘The truth is, she hasn’t got long. Days, weeks if you’re lucky. Pancreatic is difficult to treat anyway, but it was left. She refused treatment and now it’s too late to even consider putting her through it.’
My stomach churned as the doctor revealed that Isadora had been diagnosed almost a year ago but had refused all help and insisted that her family didn’t know. She had carried on as though life was normal, telling us nothing, and she had hidden her illness so well. Was this because Tom and I were having our own troubles?
The doctor was called away to take a phone call and Tom and I were left alone in his sterile office.
‘I should have known,’ Tom said. ‘I had noticed the weight loss but thought she’d been dieting.’
‘I did too. We both should have realized. She was uncharacteristically distant.’
‘I’d put that down to the row we’d had,’ Tom said. ‘She has been weird with me since then, but I thought we’d both get over it. Especially after Melody was born.’
The doctor came back in then.
‘You can see your mother now. I’ve told her you’re here.’
***
We followed him to Isadora’s private room. An NHS bed was just not suitable for a Carlisle: it was five stars all the way, even to the end.
Isadora was lying in the bed. Without her make-up I could see the dark circles and tiredness around her eyes. But as soon as she saw us, she pulled herself up into a sitting position and rallied. I had to admire her strength.
I leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ I asked.
Isadora was so stubborn, even then.
‘I’m fine. The doctor shouldn’t have called you,’ she said.
‘Mother, of course he should! If anything had happened to you, I’d have sued him for not contacting me. Now look, we are going to fight this!’
Isadora shook her head. ‘He’s told you the prognosis. There’s nothing we can do. I want to continue for as normal as possible until …’
Tears filled my eyes and I blinked them away trying to be brave. In the face of Isadora’s courage I couldn’t let myself fall apart before her.
‘I’m just going to get some water,’ I said. ‘Do you want anything?’
‘No, dear. I’m fine.’ Isadora met my eyes and I couldn’t imagine this durable woman failing due to anything, especially illness. In all the years I’d known her she had never been sick. She still didn’t even look that ill and yet I knew she was dying. It was tempting to deny it, just as she was trying to do.
I left the room and went in search of a vending machine which was quite a way from the private rooms. When I returned I heard Tom and Isadora shouting at each other.
‘What happened to you?’ Isadora said. ‘I can’t believe my son is capable of—’
‘You know why I did it, Mother. She was going to leave me. I couldn’t allow that.’
‘But whose fault was it in the first place? What were you thinking? You brought this all on yourself.’
‘What’s done is done.’
‘I can’t believe I’ve covered for you …’ Isadora said
.
‘I appreciate what you did—’
‘I had no choice!’ Isadora said and her voice pitched up and carried out into the corridor.
‘Be quiet. Someone will hear you.’
‘If you ever …’ Isadora’s voice faded down and both voices dropped to a whisper. I stood by the door unseen, but couldn’t hear anything more. I didn’t know what to do.
‘What’s taking her so long?’ I heard Tom say and then his footsteps approached the door. I hurriedly walked away then turned around again and jogged to the door as he came through.
‘There you are.’
‘Vending machine was miles away!’ I said. ‘Now, Isadora. I’m not taking no for an answer. We have to try some form of treatment.’
I didn’t know what I’d overheard, and with Isadora’s illness, I couldn’t bring myself to broach the subject with either of them. I had to deal with my paranoia and stop worrying about every overheard fragment as Tom had to cope with the prospect of losing his mother. The only thing I could do right then was be as supportive to them both as possible. Our marital problems would have to be resolved at another time.
The next day Isadora came out of the hospital and returned to the Surrey house with a team of privately paid medical people. I travelled over to see her with Melody and we stayed overnight in Tom’s room.
‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ I asked her again when I took Melody into her room. ‘We should have been supporting you all this time.’
‘You have enough to deal with,’ Isadora said. ‘I’m sorry I won’t be around to watch Melody grow.’
‘Let’s not—’
‘I’ve made arrangements and everything’s taken care of. Promise me you’ll make sure my wishes are met?’
‘Yes of course, but—’
‘I know you don’t want to talk about it, but this is the thing. I have a few weeks left at most. I have to talk.’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I’m listening.’
I took her instructions and offered to stay permanently. I didn’t say ‘until the end’, though we both knew that was what I meant. But, stubborn as ever, Isadora wouldn’t let me.
After that I went back and forth alone, travelling over every few days. I saw Isadora deteriorate. Now that we knew, and she was accepting this was it, she just went downhill. It was as if she didn’t have the strength anymore to fight the inevitable.
‘Charlotte,’ she said to me on one of her last days, ‘I won’t let anything happen to you and Melody.’
‘Yes, Isadora, I know,’ I said indulging her. She was hooked up to a morphine drip and wasn’t always lucid.
I patted her hand then. ‘We’re all fine. Everyone is safe.’
‘I’ve taken care of everything …’ she said again.
‘I know. I promise I’ll do as you asked.’
Tom stayed away. I think it was because he didn’t want to see his mother fading but also it was guilt. He knew he’d been hard on her and didn’t know how to reconcile their issues.
‘You need to see her before it’s too late,’ I told him after a couple of weeks. ‘You have to say your goodbyes.’
Tom was as stubborn as his mother but I eventually made him agree.
‘We’ll go tomorrow,’ he said.
The landline phone rang and we both looked at each other. The last time the landline rang it had been the hospital. I had a knot in my stomach. Tom didn’t move from his seat. I got up and answered it.
‘Mrs Carlisle?’ asked the voice on the other end.
‘Yes.’
‘It’s Rosa Meldrew, I’m your mother-in-law’s nurse. I’m afraid I have sad news. Isadora is no longer with us.’
‘But, I only saw her yesterday,’ I said.
‘I’m sorry. It was very sudden. We weren’t expecting things to escalate quite yet. The doctor has been and confirmed the time of death. It was her wish that we didn’t try to revive her. Her body has been moved, per her instructions, to the appointed funeral directors.’
‘She appointed someone?’ I was surprised, because I’d taken her instructions and we were supposed to do it after she passed.
‘Yes. She had.’
When Rosa finished giving me all the details, I put the phone down and turned to Tom. He was sitting on the sofa looking at me, his face like stone. I didn’t have to tell him she was gone. Then I sat next to him and put my arms around him. He cried and so did I. Isadora was dead and there was nothing either of us could do.
It was the end of an era. I was now the only Mrs Carlisle.
Chapter Thirty
As Rosa had said, Isadora had made her own arrangements. It was her wish that she be cremated and she had insisted on a closed coffin.
Tom had an argument with the funeral director about this, but he wouldn’t budge on it. Isadora had been insistent that she didn’t want anyone to see her or remember her in that way.
‘She made me promise, Mr Carlisle,’ the man said. ‘And I can’t go back on a promise made to a dying woman.’
‘She was so vain,’ Tom said. ‘But it’s typically selfish of her too. I wanted to see her one last time.’
‘Maybe it’s for the best,’ I said. ‘Now you can remember her as you last saw her instead.’
‘That’s somehow worse,’ Tom said. ‘For weeks I couldn’t bring myself to see her. But I still thought I had time. And it was all so stupid. You see, in the hospital, we had another row when you went to get water …’
I tried to look surprised. ‘What about?’
‘You. She was blaming me for not being a good husband. She said I’m just like my father and that I only care about the company.’
‘I’m sorry. That’s awful, and untrue. You’re a wonderful husband and father.’
‘Thank God I have you, Char,’ he said.
He hugged me to him. I was glad then that I hadn’t questioned him about the argument before. It was so much better that he’d volunteered the information. I was still surprised that I had never picked up on how difficult a relationship Tom had had with Isadora until recently. He had always deferred to her and at times it had bothered me how much. She in her turn had been totally devoted to him. Or appeared to be. It had been the case that what Tom wanted always came before anything else. Family secrets were a terrible thing and I wanted to make sure that we never had any between us again.
The funeral was attended by many of Isadora’s friends and lots of Tom’s business associates. As Isadora wished, the coffin remained closed and after the tributes and tears and smiles as people remembered her quirks, Isadora’s coffin rolled away to its fiery destination.
The funeral wake took place at the Manor in Surrey, and I’d arranged caterers to feed the two hundred people who were invited to the house.
When we arrived back at the Manor, Tina was there with Melody and Mrs Tanner greeted us with tears in her eyes. It was the first time I’d ever seen the woman show any emotion. But she had worked for Isadora for a long time and it was sad for all of the housekeeping staff as well as friends and family that this formidable woman was dead.
‘You must join the guests at the wake, Mrs Tanner,’ I said. But she found it difficult to switch off, and I caught her giving instructions to the catering staff and making sure that everyone in the house was fed and happy. Like Isadora, Mrs Tanner was indeed a strong and unique personality. I liked her, I always had, even though she was difficult to get to know.
Tom and I had arranged to stay over at the Manor for a few days to put things in order, and so Tina had prepped Tom’s former nursery with Melody’s bedding and she slept in the adjoining nanny’s room to keep her eye on the baby through the night and give us both a rest after the funeral.
‘I don’t feel ready to wade through her personal things yet,’ said Tom after everyone had left and the housekeeping staff was clearing up. ‘Can we leave that for the time being?’
We sat in the lounge. The large fire wasn’t lit but had so much character that it was comforting being nea
r it.
‘Of course. She left the paperwork we’ll need in the office, and the solicitor comes tomorrow to read the will.’
‘The house is already mine,’ he reminded me. ‘We don’t need anything else.’
‘I know,’ I said.
‘Maybe this isn’t the right time to suggest it, but perhaps we need to move in here.’
‘Live here?’ I said.
‘Eventually.’
I looked around the lounge with its expensive furnishings, and old paintings. I couldn’t imagine using this much space all the time after our much smaller flat in London.
‘I know we discussed this once but, isn’t it a bit big for us,’ I said.
‘We’d grow into it. And it would be better for Melody.’
‘I’ll think on it. There’s no rush though, right?’
The Manor could be a fresh start for us. I wouldn’t miss the wives who did nothing but lunch and beauty appointments that much. It was quiet and I had been considering a move anyway when Melody had grown. Despite the sadness we experienced following the funeral, we had spent many happy hours there too. It was a lovely home, and it would be a wonderful place to bring Melody up. Even though I’d always known at some point Tom would own this place, I’d never given living here a serious thought. There was a lot to consider if we made this move. Tom would have to stay in London mid-week and we’d only see him at weekends. There was also the aspect of running and living in a home of this nature, where you had to have others living and working there too. You were never really alone. It was a way of living that I wasn’t used to.
Any decision to move in was forced the next day however, when Isadora’s solicitor came and read the will.
The house reverted, as Tom said, completely to him, and there was a substantial amount of money put in trust for Melody. Isadora had also given a large sum to Mrs Tanner, and, on hearing the news, the woman announced that she wished to retire.
‘It just won’t be the same for me without Mrs C,’ Mrs Tanner said.
‘We completely understand,’ Tom said. ‘Will you stay until we find a suitable replacement and help them learn the ropes?’
‘I can give you a month,’ Mrs Tanner said. ‘After that I’d like to be free to go.’
The Stranger in Our Bed Page 14
