My Husband's Lie: A page turning and emotional family drama

by Emma Davies

  ‘I didn’t even think about this,’ she adds. ‘It’s normally just done. And I’m busy helping Rob, and manning the kitchen…’

  It’s the resignation in her voice which fires my anger. ‘Then we’ll do what we can,’ I reply. ‘And what we can’t do, won’t get done. You can’t do everything, Anna, they’re bloody lucky to have you and Rob at all.’ I link my arm through hers. ‘Let’s all have a cup of tea and a brainstorm. Some brilliant idea will come to us, you’ll see.’

  She smiles. ‘You’re such a shit liar,’ she says. ‘But thank you…’

  * * *

  Rach has made a list. In fact, Rach has made a list of lists and we’re all headed back to Pevensey with several bags of vegetables among other things. A takeaway is on the cards, as is a rather long night of food preparation but, before it gets dark, there’s one more thing I have to attend to.

  I have no idea whether my idea will actually work, and there’s really only one way to find out. So, armed with several carrier bags, I leave Drew to make some tea and take Gerry outside to collect as many leaves from our Virginia creeper as we can. They’re soaking wet but for what I have in mind they’ll be literally hung out to dry, so it hopefully won’t matter.

  ‘If all this works, your place as honorary members of the village will be pretty much guaranteed,’ I say to Gerry as he passes me another handful of the leaves. ‘But I’m very grateful to you and Rach, you’re supposed to be house-hunting…’

  Gerry grins. ‘Which we will be,’ he replies. ‘Come Monday. Nothing is open tomorrow anyway and besides…’ He stares at his hands, which are rapidly turning white with cold, just as mine are. ‘We wouldn’t be having half as much fun if we stayed at home.’

  ‘Yeah, right…’

  He stops and watches me for a second or two. ‘Actually, I mean it. I know things are… difficult just now. But this is the place you were made, Thea, you and Drew, the children, all of it. And it’s still so perfect for you all. I can see that now.’ He wipes away a droplet of water from his nose. ‘I worried at first that our coming here was too much of a shift from our lives in London, but now I can see that’s exactly why it could be right for us too. I don’t know whether it’s because we see it in you and Drew, or whether Rach and I have only just realised what’s been missing from our lives, but… it feels right to be doing it.’

  He breaks off, laughing. ‘God, listen to me. I don’t normally come over all philosophical but it’s like…’ He stares up at the creeper, his fingers tracing the outline of one of the stems. ‘How can you ever grow if you don’t have roots?’

  And all at once I’m taken back to the playground of St Hilda’s school on the last day of term, just before we moved. It was the day when Rach had told me that she couldn’t ever imagine having childhood memories like mine, her words echoing Gerry’s. I’d smiled and told her that two years from now she’d get her dream too – a farmhouse with roses around the door and her own baking empire – but it was just something I’d said, knowing that our paths were about to split in different directions. I didn’t really think for one moment that it would come true. Just as I never really believed that I would ever have the kind of life my childhood had led me to believe I could. But what’s the point of ever having dreams if you don’t believe in them?

  ‘Roots… and space and sunshine and a little rain…’ I say, smiling up at the sky and blinking as the raindrops hit my lashes. ‘Although, not too much rain, I’ve had enough of that just lately. It’s time for the sun to come out again.’

  ‘It will, Thea. This is… a storm. It will blow over, I’m sure of it.’ Gerry holds my look for longer than is necessary. ‘You and Drew will be okay.’

  I shiver. ‘Come on, let’s get back inside. My fingers are so cold I can’t feel them.’ I glance down at the full bags we’re carrying between us. ‘I reckon we have enough of these now anyway.’

  Twenty-Four

  I slip my fingers into Anna’s as she stares out across the village hall from the kitchen doorway. ‘You okay?’

  She gives a slight nod. ‘Terrified,’ she replies. ‘You?’

  ‘I feel sick.’ I turn to look at her and smile. ‘Just remember that in a few hours this will all be over,’ I say. Although we both know that’s a lie. Somehow I think it’s going to take a lot more than a good meal to convince the locals that our families don’t need to be chased from the village by an angry mob bearing pitchforks.

  I follow the line of her gaze to where Drew is busy laying out jugs of squash and water down the rows of trestle tables that all but fill the space.

  ‘How are things?’ she asks quietly.

  ‘He doesn’t want to be here any more than I do,’ I reply.

  ‘No… but he is,’ says Anna. ‘And you’re talking…’

  ‘Not about anything that matters though. It’s like we’re strangers making polite chit-chat.’

  She nods. ‘He’s incredibly proud of you. You do know that, don’t you?’

  I shrug. ‘Maybe, but…’

  ‘No, I mean it. He said as much to Rob, who, if he manages to curtail his anger today…’ She smiles. ‘He said you were always the strong one, the one who righted wrongs, even when you were children.’

  ‘I don’t think so, that was always Drew, he…’ And I trail off, lost in memories. Drew was always the one who brought out the best in me, who quashed my doubts with his steadfast love. I squeeze Anna’s fingers back. ‘I might just go and…’

  And she nods, waving me away.

  Drew has already laid out the crockery, glasses, cups and saucers alongside a line of greenery which I placed down the centre of each table earlier. It’s holly and ivy mainly, interspersed with the bright-coloured heads of as many dahlias as I could find in the garden. He looks up as I approach, the predictable tentative smile on his face.

  ‘It looks good,’ he says.

  Above our heads my leaf ‘bunting’ cascades like streamers from the central chandelier light fitting, fanning out like the spokes of a wheel with each end anchored to a point on the wall. Strung on the virtually invisible nylon thread that I use for my pictures, each leaf seems to hang as if by magic and, with the lights lit, the colours glow from the palest lemon to the deepest vermillion and every shade in between.

  ‘It’s something at least,’ I reply. ‘It seems mean not to have any decoration at all. Just because the committee want to make a point today, I don’t see why everyone else has to suffer. The Harvest Supper isn’t for them, or us, it’s for the villagers.’

  He nods. ‘And I’m sure they’ll be grateful for the lengths that have been gone to on their behalf. Today wouldn’t have happened at all if it weren’t for you, Anna and Rachel.’

  ‘I hope so. Although somehow I doubt it.’ I look around the room. ‘Sorry, Drew, I’m just not feeling hugely optimistic that today is going to change anything.’

  ‘You never know,’ he says quietly. ‘We can but try.’

  There’s a wistful note to his voice that catches at my heart. I’m about to reply when I hear my name being called. Rachel is waving at me frantically from the kitchen doorway.

  I turn, a rueful smile on my face. ‘I’d better…’

  ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘I’ll… people will be here soon. Gerry and I will need to man the teapots…’

  We smile at each other and it’s all we can do. For now.

  In all the time I’ve known her, I’ve never actually seen Rachel in action as a caterer, but she’s incredible and I can see why she’s always so busy. Calm and efficient, organised and methodical, she’s been a whirlwind of energy and enthusiasm since early morning, giving directions, making endless decisions and always keeping on top of everything that’s going on, never once allowing any of her metaphorical plates to stop spinning. The result is a kitchen full of the most amazing smells and a dinner almost ready to serve that I didn’t think would ever be possible. It won’t suit everyone, but maybe it’s a change for the better. Only time will tell.
<
br />   ‘How’s it going?’ I ask as I reach her.

  She hands me a wooden spoon. ‘Okay, everything’s almost ready, but can you come and stir for me? Otherwise we’re going to have a large amount of very lumpy custard…’

  Behind us the front door bangs as the first of the villagers begin to arrive and my eyes fly straight to Anna’s. Nothing will officially start until Rob has made his way here from the church but, as he’ll be one of the last to appear, we need to make sure that everyone gets settled in first with a hot drink, happy to be inside from the incessant rain once again. It’s time for Anna to take centre stage – not as the saviour of the Harvest Festival Supper, or as sous-chef, bottle-washer, mother, friend, or any of the other roles she has taken in her stride – but this time as the curate’s wife.

  Two hours later there is a happy hubbub of noise and the hall is filled with conversation and laughter. The children, set free from the confines of the dinner table, have sought out the empty spaces to play their games while their parents and the older villagers remain seated, nattering happily and enjoying the food.

  Rob and Drew have brought nothing but good comments back to the kitchen over the change to the menu this year. Gone are the dishes of coleslaw and pasta salads and, in their place, Rachel has provided bowls of piping-hot leek-and-potato soup with home-made croutons and spiced, toasted pumpkin seeds – perfect comfort food for such a wet and miserable day. A rich chickpea and roasted vegetable stew followed, fragrant with warming spices and piled over buttery couscous, and finished with apple crumble and custard. It was an eclectic mix, Rachel was the first to admit, but I’m so proud of her. And happy for her too. I can’t think of a nicer way for her to start off a new life and she might even end up with a queue of ready customers for her new business once they move.

  Given the success of the day so far, I could quite easily pretend that everything is okay were it not for Stacey, Jackie and the other committee members all sitting in a row with their families. I’m watching them now. How they even have the nerve to show their faces here is beyond me, and I don’t think it occurred to any of us that they actually would. I can’t imagine how Anna must have felt, having to serve Stacey and Jackie their food, but she did so, head held high.

  And now it’s my turn. I’m doing circuits of the hall, collecting empty glasses and cups and ferrying them back to the kitchen for washing. So far, I’ve managed to avoid their table but I can’t keep doing it, and I won’t. I can’t spend the rest of my life as if I’m apologising for something I haven’t done.

  A slight tug on my jumper distracts me for a moment. It’s Chloe, with a frown on her face. ‘Do you know where Lauren is?’ she asks.

  I look up, scanning the hall. ‘She was with Tilly in the kitchen a few minutes ago,’ I reply, not seeing her. ‘She’s probably still there.’

  But she shakes her head. ‘No, I’ve just been in there.’

  Stacey is laughing at something although I’m too far away to hear what.

  ‘Oh…’ I smile down at Chloe. ‘Then I don’t know, love. She’ll be with Tilly somewhere. Have you looked in the room at the back? I should try there.’

  ‘Okay.’

  I watch her make her way through the tables, then give Stacey one last look before scooping up a pile of empty cups from the nearest table and taking them through to wash. True to their word, Drew and Gerry are busy at the sink and my presence elicits a predictable groan.

  ‘I can’t believe there are still cups we haven’t washed,’ says Drew. He rolls his eyes and looks at Gerry, a pained expression on his face. ‘Did I volunteer us for this?’ he asks, nodding as he does so. ‘Yes, I thought I did…’

  ‘So, what happens now though?’ asks Gerry. ‘Do people just drift away or what?’

  I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s gone three and, although the rain has stopped, the view from the window is dark and gloomy.

  ‘It varies,’ answers Anna. ‘Rob will give a bit of a speech soon and that’s pretty much the signal for everyone to finish up, but some years, when the weather’s been better and the kids are playing outside, folks stay on for a bit. It’s all done and dusted by the time it’s dark though, and I think today people will just want to get home.’

  Drew nods. ‘No offence, but let’s hope so,’ he says.

  ‘Then I’ll go and chase up the last of the cups.’

  I slip back out the door just as two elderly ladies pass me on the way to the cloakroom. I smile automatically only to be greeted with a frown.

  ‘Course that kind of thing would never have happened back in my day,’ says the first, moving away. ‘I might be old, but I know what’s right, and buying someone in to do all this is just plain disgraceful. Whatever happened to everyone pitching in together?’

  I take a step backward, turning to follow the sound of the voice. It sounded very much as if the words were entirely for my benefit, the voice slightly raised above a normal speaking level. But they must be talking about something else. Surely not…

  The lady who had spoken stops for a moment to pull her cardigan around her. ‘Not sure I’ll bother coming next year if it’s going to be like this.’

  Her friend nods, looking back at me. ‘Me neither. Goes against the spirit of the whole thing.’

  I shoot a glance back out to the hall where people are still milling, chatting and finishing their drinks. It all looks just as it did half an hour ago. And then I look back. I can’t let this pass.

  ‘Um, excuse me…?’

  Two heads turn my way.

  ‘Sorry,’ I say, stepping forward. ‘I couldn’t help overhearing what you were saying… Were you talking about today? About the supper here?’

  The first lady pulls me in with a disapproving stare. ‘That’s right,’ she says. ‘Your friend, I think…’ I follow her line of sight to where Rachel is sitting talking to two other women. ‘The one that did all the cooking.’

  ‘Yes…?’

  ‘From some fancy catering company…’ Her eyebrows are raised. ‘You might have only just arrived in the village, but really, that’s not how we do things here.’ She breaks off, tutting. ‘This is supposed to be a community event, not an opportunity to line the pockets of your friends.’

  ‘What?’

  I look between the two of them, feeling my stomach flipping in shock. ‘Who told you that?’

  But I didn’t need to ask, it’s obvious. Colour races over my cheeks. ‘No, that’s not how it is,’ I continue. ‘My friend does run a catering company but she came here today to help, and only because everyone else pulled out!’

  I spin on my heels to face the room. ‘I don’t believe it,’ I say. ‘Is that really what people are saying?’

  The two women look at one another, now very aware that they’ve just started something they wished they hadn’t. My face must be puce.

  ‘I’ve bloody well had enough of this,’ I say, marching forwards, just as I catch sight of Anna’s anguished face through the kitchen door. Drew and Gerry are hot on her heels.

  ‘Thea, wait!’ Anna’s voice is distraught.

  But I’m done waiting. I will not let my friends be treated this way. I can see Anna moving across to Rob out of the corner of my eye. He’s standing talking with the head teacher and, if I’m not mistaken, about to make his speech any minute now. I have to be quick and I march across to Stacey’s table before I can change my mind.

  ‘What have you been saying about Rachel?’ I demand, looking from one to the other. ‘Well?’

  ‘Well, what?’ Stacey looks up, an idle sneer on her face. ‘You accusing us of something? Again…?’ She smirks at Jackie. ‘Almost seems like she can’t keep away, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Because it’s bad enough you trying to trash my family and Anna’s too, but to have a go at my friend when all she’s done is try to fix the mess you and your cronies have created…’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean?’ She frowns. ‘Do you understand what she’s talking about, Jackie?�
�

  ‘Maybe you’d like me to tell everyone?’ I threaten. ‘Explain how you and your friends deliberately pulled out of helping, knowing it would make today almost impossible. And not content with that, you’re now bad-mouthing the person who stepped in to help out of the goodness of her heart. Anyone would think you didn’t care about the people in this village at all…’

  I’ve forced my voice deliberately low but she can hear my fury and, even as I finish, I realise that the relaxed chat around me has stilled. And Stacey has noticed too. Her eyes flick nervously to one side. She looks to her friends for reassurance, but bit by bit the sound in the room drops away and eyes begin to turn on me. My heart pounds as I realise what I’ve done, staring out at the sea of faces, the breath catching in my throat… This is neither the time nor the place to air a very private grievance. There are children here for goodness’ sake.

  And I nearly bottle it, nearly run for cover to the safety of the kitchen and away from prying eyes, but Drew has come to stand by my side. And he smiles, a slow, warm smile that travels up from his boots to light his eyes, meant for no one else but me. He gives an almost imperceptible nod, never breaking eye contact. And then I see Rob take a step forward to stand beside Anna and Rachel too as Gerry touches her arm.

  ‘Hi… everyone… sorry, can I just have your attention for a minute…’

  There is an instant hush at the sound of Rob’s voice, and in the space it creates, all I can hear is my mum, urging me to make up my mind of what I believe in. Telling me to hold it close and never let it go. And I see now that I have. I know what I believe, and not just about my dad, but also, finally, what I believe about Drew.

  A memory comes rushing back. Of Drew standing on the driveway of Pevensey House, hands on hips as I’d accused him of fancying another girl, just because he’d given her apples from his parents’ garden. We must have been all of ten years of age.