by Sue Welfare
‘Fine. You want some coffee?’
‘Yes, that would be good.’ The relief in his voice was audible.
‘Go in and sit down then and I’ll make one,’ she said, waving him into the sitting room. ‘Do you take sugar, I can’t remember?’
‘No, just white and strong. Please.’
Chrissie left him there on his own while she filled the washing machine, cleared the draining board, waiting for the kettle to boil, all the while gathering her thoughts. When she finally came back in with his coffee, Bill was perched on the edge of one of the armchairs. Chrissie deliberately hadn’t made herself a drink – she didn’t want Bill to think this was a social occasion or that he had her permission to linger.
They had known each other since Bill had moved in to Windsor Street, back in the good old days when Chrissie still believed that happy ever after, if not probable, was still possible. Even so, she still felt uncomfortable with him and not just for the obvious reasons. Bill didn’t often come in to her house – Chrissie couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d been there. When they met it was usually at Kate and Joe’s or occasionally Bill’s for supper or a party or barbecue. It wasn’t that Chrissie was ashamed of her place exactly, more that she was aware that over the years what little spare money she’d had had gone into the kids not the house. Things looked a little tired, a little faded, and not in an arty, bohemian way but in a saggy, rough, rescued out a of skip kind of way. Seeing Bill perched there on the edge of the armchair, all dressed up in his trendy and quietly expensive casuals, made her feel even grubbier than if it had been Joe calling. Bill nodded his thanks for the coffee and smiled nervously. Chrissie resisted the temptation to smile back. They both knew that she fancied him and had done for years, and that for some reason it had just never happened, and yes it made for a little added frisson that even now hung in the air between them like a wisp of smoke.
‘So,’ she said, getting up to light a joss stick on the mantlepiece. ‘What brings you here then, Bill? Social call? Lecture? Moral outrage? I don’t see any tar and feathers. Leave them outside, did you?’
He shook his head. ‘I’ve just been talking to Kate; I was worried about you.’
She feigned shock to cover her genuine surprise. ‘Me? Well, I’m impressed and very touched, Bill. What about the wronged wife and the contrite tortured husband? Aren’t you meant to be on their side?’
Bill sighed. ‘For Christ’s sake, Chrissie. Stop pretending you’re a tough little cookie, all hard arse and attitude and that all this is just water off a duck’s back to you. You don’t fool me, I’ve known you way too long to be taken in by all that crap.’
Chrissie felt her bottom lip tremble but turned away, refusing to let Bill see, as he continued, ‘I feel such a prat; I’d got no idea about you and Joe – no bloody idea at all. I’m annoyed about not knowing. And Kate – at least you and Joe knew what was going on, she’d got no idea at all.’ He stared at Chrissie and shook his head. ‘Christ, you’ve got some balls, Blondie, it must have been like waiting for a time bomb to go off. You’ve got to be stark staring mad. I only hope he’s worth it.’
Chrissie stared back, some sort of knowing stirring in her belly. ‘And what about Joe? Aren’t you worried about Joe?’
Bill held her gaze without any hesitation. ‘If you ask me the man’s a complete fucking moron, who deserves everything he gets.’
Chrissie snorted. ‘Well, don’t hold back will you, Bill? Say what you think while you’ve got the chance.’
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘What? So, you’re telling me you’re glad Kate caught you pair together, are you? Glad that it’s all out in the open and that you and Joe plan to live happily ever after?’ Bill paused. The shadow strewn room filled up with silence. When it got uncomfortable, Bill said, ‘This is the bit where you’re meant to tell me that you’re madly in love with Joe.’ He took a sip on his coffee and mimed heavy duty waiting.
Chrissie reddened, wishing now that she had made herself a drink after all. Surreptitiously, she pushed the warped lasagne tray under the sofa with her heel.
‘It would be better if I was madly in love with him, wouldn’t it?’ she said, resignedly. ‘It would make more sense then. The stupid thing about it is that it isn’t anything special, it isn’t even a proper affair.’ Chrissie’s colour deepened further as something way down in her head struggled to define what it was that constituted a proper affair. ‘You know what I mean – we didn’t go anywhere, we didn’t do anything as a couple. We never had plans to run away and start over. When I look at it, it makes no sense at all. For what it’s worth I never had any intention of splitting Kate’s marriage up or her ever finding out, it wasn’t like that at all. Joe was just – just, I don’t know – convenient. There were never any promises, no pretending, no happy ever after, just a good old-fashioned uncomplicated screw. At least that was what we both convinced ourselves.’
Bill’s face wore a cynical expression, and who could blame him? ‘Often?’ he said. ‘You and Kate were so close I don’t understand how come you could do it at all.’
Chrissie shrugged. Her private life was none of Bill’s business, even so she was relieved to finally be able to lay some of the burden down by telling him.
‘When me and Joe first got together I didn’t know Kate. He told me – well you know what Joe’s like. He told me all kinds of crap. And it stuck. It was like there were two different people, the Kate Joe talked about and the woman I knew. And the sex thing kind of happened in bursts, and then one of us would get freaked out, you know, worried about getting caught or getting too involved and we’d agree that it had to finish and that we’d never do it again. Or I’d start dating someone. And then it would fizzle out.’
Chrissie didn’t have to add until the next time.
‘I didn’t want Kate to get hurt. And yes, I know how stupid that sounds now but I fancied Joe for a long time before I realised they were a couple. I’d seen him playing a few times in different pubs – Kate knew that, I told her once, said how good he was, and she laughed and told me not to say anything, Joe’s ego was big enough – and then I moved in here and there he was. Next door. I couldn’t believe my eyes or my luck when I first saw him. There are no excuses but it sort of happened in some other place, some place away from real life – at least that was the way it’s always felt.
‘After you’d gone home on Friday night I helped Joe to clear up and tidy away and one thing led to another. We were having a kiss and a cuddle and Joe suggested I stay for another drink. It must have been the first time in – I don’t know, a couple of years maybe. The boys had already come round here – Robbie was home, but you already know that, you were there.’
Bill’s gaze fixed her and then he nodded. ‘I know, trouble is I keep thinking I was at another supper party. I didn’t guess, not a bloody clue.’
Chrissie swallowed hard to try and choke down the tears that were blocking her throat. ‘Hardly my fault you weren’t wearing your X-ray specs, was it, Clark Kent? Oh, I don’t know, Bill. Looking at it from this side it was totally bloody stupid, but it has been going on for years. It was just another thing in my life and let’s face it my life has never exactly been plain sailing.’
‘And what are you planning to do now?’
Chrissie shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Move probably. I thought I’d drop into the estate agents on the way home from work tomorrow, see what they say. Get someone to come round and do a valuation.’
Bill nodded in agreement; Chrissie was shaken. He didn’t argue with her or say it was crazy or a bit drastic or suggest that maybe it might be better to see if things settled down before she did anything, he just nodded and looked around the room as if assessing the house’s saleability.
Bill grinned. ‘I think you’re mad, but if you need a hand, Blondie. Well, you know. The four of us have been friends a long time and friends should stick together.’
Aware of the irony, Chrissie daren’t say very much in case she cr
ied. It occurred to her that maybe Bill fancied her more than she thought, maybe he saw this as his way in or maybe he was just genuinely being nice, maybe he felt sorry for her. Chrissie didn’t trust her intuition, too confused and too upset to be able to pick the bones out of what she felt about him or sensed from him. So Chrissie smiled a funny wobbly smile and didn’t fight when Bill gave her a pointedly non-sexual hug, stood his half-empty mug down in amongst the tangle of stuff on the coffee table and made his way to the front door.
After Bill left, the house suddenly seemed very empty and very very quiet. After a couple of minutes Chrissie picked up the phone and dialled Kate’s mobile. She wasn’t altogether certain what it was she wanted to say or where she planned to begin but knew it was important to try.
She took a deep breath as the phone rang once, twice, and then a recorded and terribly efficient voice said, ‘You are through to the voice mail service for Kate Harvey. If you’d like to leave your name and number after the tone then I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks for calling.’ The anticlimax was almost more than Chrissie could cope with.
Joe stood in the alleyway, watching Chrissie’s house in a vague, increasingly abstract way until he began to feel cold. What it was that Bill and Chrissie were doing and saying in there? He was angry that Bill was with Chrissie when he wanted to talk to her, angry and frustrated and very slightly envious. Just when it got to the point when he felt he ought to do something and he was beginning to get wound up, the front door swung open and Bill reappeared, no post-orgasmic glow apparent, zipped up his leather jacket, and sauntered off down the road back towards his house.
Joe waited for a moment, feeling a bit nonplussed. In his imagination he’d just burst in through Chrissie’s front door, found the pair of them rolling round on the hall floor, all knickers and shirt-tails, fumbling frantically to cover their tracks and now, with Bill gone, there was nothing. He sighed, feeling cheated. Maybe he wouldn’t go and see Chrissie after all, it was getting late and he wasn’t altogether certain what it was he planned to say to her or where any conversation might lead.
What if she took him by the hand and led him upstairs, glowing with anticipation, relieved that they didn’t have to hide any more? What if she had plans for the two of them? What if she asked him to leave Kate? What if she didn’t?
Turning slowly, Joe wandered back up the alley and into the house. The boys were nowhere in sight and suddenly everywhere and everything seemed very empty. After a couple of minutes Joe picked up the phone and dialled Kate’s mobile. She had to be home by now. He wasn’t altogether certain what it was he wanted to say or where he planned to begin but he knew it was important to try.
He took a deep breath as the phone rang once, twice, and then a recorded and terribly efficient voice said, ‘You are through to the voice mail service for Kate Harvey. If you’d like to leave your name and number after the tone then I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks for calling.’ The anticlimax was almost more than Joe could cope with.
Chapter 8
‘It’s no good. I’ve got to pull over,’ said Kate desperately, flicking on the indicator and swinging the car into a lay-by. The A47 was still busy even though it was getting late.
Maggie looked anxiously across at Kate, her pallor accentuated by the halogen glare of oncoming headlights. ‘Are you all right?’ asked Maggie. ‘I did wonder about that curry. I think there’s a garage up here. On the right. It can’t be that far now. Or there are some bushes over there.’ She pointed across the road towards dense dark hedgerows picked out by the headlights of the passing cars. ‘I’ve got some tissues.’
Kate smiled. ‘No, no, it’s not that. I’m all right, I just need to listen to my messages.’
Maggie stared at her. ‘Your messages?’ she said flatly.
Kate nodded, reaching over into the back, dragging her handbag off the seat and switching on the interior light. After a few seconds she gave up rootling through the contents and tipped everything out into her lap.
‘It won’t take a minute. I should have picked them up while we were outside Liz’s but I wanted to get away and thought I could wait until we got back home, except that I can’t.’ Kate puffed out a long breath and dialled her voice mail.
Maggie’s gaze did not falter. ‘Right. Okay. Just tell me one thing, Kate, are you having an affair?’
‘No.’
‘Are one of the boys in trouble?’
‘No.’
‘Is anyone terminally ill?’
‘No.’
‘I suppose I ought to feel relieved but it’s very hard not to ask what the hell is going on, and believe me I am trying, I really am,’ said Maggie grumpily staring out of the windscreen.
Kate’s attention had already moved on, she had pressed the buttons to activate the voice mail service and was listening intently with a finger in her other ear to cut out the traffic noise – and Maggie.
‘Hi, it’s me,’ said Chrissie in a voice that sounded very far away and totally disconnected. ‘I’ve wanted to ring you for days. I need to talk, Kate. I don’t know any other way to say it. I feel terrible. I can’t sleep, I can’t think straight.’ There was a deep sigh and then Chrissie continued, ‘I was going to ask you to call me back when you get a minute, but I suppose it ought to be me who rings you, really, didn’t it? I’ll try again tomorrow.’ There was another weighty pause and then she said, ‘I miss you.’
Kate felt an odd pain in the middle of her chest, a hot unhappy pain, which if she dwelt on she knew would turn to tears.
It was a relief to press delete. Kate retrieved the next message. It was Joe, who in a brisk no nonsense tone said, ‘Hi, Kate, I must admit I wasn’t expecting to get your machine. I rang your mum’s as well but no one’s answering there either. So where the hell are you? I thought you were supposed to be looking after Maggie. You and I ought to talk. Try and sort this thing out. I’ll ring tomorrow unless you want to ring me in the meantime. I’m assuming you’ve had an early night, long drive and that – okay, well if you get this message and want to ring you know where I am. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’ It was brisk and controlled, skirting the edge of frustration and anger. He was annoyed that she wasn’t there to take his call.
And finally there was the message from Bill. ‘Hi Kate, I just wondered how you were. I’ll be up late if you want to talk.’ There was a pause and then he added, ‘Don’t think you’ve got to go through this on your own. I’m here if you need someone. We’ve been friends a long time, Kate. You may be in Norfolk but all you’ve got to do is pick up the phone, doesn’t matter what the time is.’
Kate shook her head, amazed that of the three of them it was only Bill who appeared to be the slightest bit concerned about her welfare.
From the passenger seat Maggie was watching her with interest. ‘Well?’
Kate smiled apologetically as she snapped the phone shut. ‘It’s all right,’ she said, easing the things in her lap back into her handbag. ‘Nothing important.’
‘Really.’ Maggie raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. It was her trademark gesture, one that Kate recognised from her childhood. ‘Nothing important?’
Kate switched off the car’s interior light and turned the key in the ignition. ‘That’s right,’ she said, with no conviction whatsoever. As they pulled back into the stream of traffic Kate, eager to change the subject, said, ‘I thought you told me that Liz had been on some sort of cookery course.’
‘She has,’ Maggie replied with a heavy sigh.
They drove the rest of the way home in silence, Kate trying hard to keep her mind on the road and not let it slip into overdrive. From the passenger seat she could almost feel Maggie trying to compose the one question that would give her all the answers she needed.
Kate just hoped Maggie didn’t find it, because she didn’t feel ready to say all those things out loud.
Back home, Kate helped her out of the car, across the gravel and inside and then made them both coff
ee.
‘You okay?’ asked Maggie as Kate finished comfying her up with cushions and folding the duvet over her.
‘Uhuh, I’m fine, I’m just going check my email and then I’m off to bed. Is there anything you want before I go?’
Maggie beaded her. ‘Well, you could start with an explanation. More clues. Some little piece of the puzzle that will stop me fretting.’
Kate managed a thin smile and blew her a kiss goodnight. ‘You’ve got enough to worry about just getting better. It’s nothing, honestly. I don’t want to talk about it.’
Maggie didn’t look convinced. ‘And I’m not convinced I want to listen but I’m worried about you. You look absolutely awful.’
‘It’s nothing.’
‘Then tell me.’
Kate bit her lip. ‘Not now, Mum.’
As she got to the door Maggie said, ‘Sweet dreams, darling.’
‘You too.’
In the dining room Kate switched on the computer and pulled up the last of the day’s email. It was a habit she’d had for years. In her office at home it was always the last thing she did before the day ended, whatever time that might be.
She glanced up at the clock on the sideboard, ticking away the minutes. It was coming up for midnight although it wasn’t unusual for her to be working late. It hadn’t mattered so much when Joe was gigging regularly. When they first got together he’d had a tour in a support band, and then he’d had a couple of summer seasons chasing the big break. Once they were married Joe had managed to work from home, although that often meant he’d be out half the night at some pub or a club or church hall, creeping home in the wee small hours, reeking of beer and fags.
When the boys were born Kate more or less stopped going with him, having long since got over the novelty of being married to a muso. While he had been packing the van, unpacking the gear, doing the sound checks, she’d be at home with the kids and then, once they were safely tucked in bed, would carry on with work.
