My Husband's Lies

by Caroline England

  Dan sits on a bar stool, then shakes his head. ‘Sorry, Seb. I’ll go. I should have called or texted. This was stupid.’ He gestures towards the bathroom. ‘I just didn’t think.’

  Seb stares for a pulse of time. ‘It isn’t what you’re thinking.’

  It wasn’t what you thought. The words resonate, but he’s left it too late. ‘It’s fine; it’s none of my business.’

  ‘You’re here, so it is,’ Seb replies. He rubs past Dan and walks into the lounge. ‘Come here and look.’

  Dan doesn’t move. The exhaustion is back. If he had the energy, he’d feel ashamed.

  ‘Dan? Come and look for yourself.’

  Feeling lost and weary, Dan follows eventually. Seb is standing at the entrance to the second bedroom. A purple rucksack leans against the wall, women’s clothes are draped on the small sofa and there’s a neat pile of toiletries and make-up on the bedside table.

  ‘Lorna’s a pal. Pretty tidy for a model, I must say. A crowd of us were out last night for my birthday and she kipped here. She’s a student. Her digs are near the university.’

  Lorna emerges from the bathroom, a fresh smell of mint and lemon in her wake.

  ‘And anyway …’ Seb grins, nodding her way, ‘You don’t fancy me, do you, Lorna?’ He looks back at Dan. ‘I’m too old, apparently.’

  ‘Too right,’ Lorna replies. She turns to the glass dining table and points to a small pile of birthday cards with her bitten fingernail. ‘Now that you’re in your thirties, old man. Give me five minutes and I’ll be gone.’

  A sense of relief piercing the tiredness, Dan sips his tea. Then Lorna appears, her rucksack thrown over a shoulder. ‘See you,’ she says, and with a friendly wave she leaves.

  Dan follows Seb and sits heavily on the opposite sofa. Returning Seb’s gaze briefly, then looking back at his hands, he breaks the silence eventually. ‘Happy birthday. You’re thirty. I didn’t know.’

  ‘Thanks. You’ve shaved off your beard.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Dan feels his chin. ‘Stupid really. Now I have to shave each morning and it’s either shaving or breakfast. There’s no time for both.’ He smiles a small smile. ‘Including the shit and shower of course.’ Trying for humour, trying to be the Dan Maloney he used to be.

  Seb continues to stare; he doesn’t smile back. ‘Is it tough?’

  ‘You wouldn’t believe it. No bloody sleep. Not that I don’t love Teddy to bits.’

  ‘You look terrible.’

  A small smile again to cover the sudden urge to cry. ‘Cheers, Seb. Still, at least I have an excuse. What did Churchill say—’

  ‘Go to bed, Dan.’ Seb nods to his bedroom. ‘I mean it. Go to bed now, get some sleep.’

  High cream-coloured walls, a soft yielding mattress and the smell of bacon. It takes Dan several moments to work out where he is. He props himself on an elbow. Seb Taylor is sitting crossed-legged on the small sofa in the bedroom, holding a paperback and wearing thick-framed black glasses.

  ‘What’s the time?’

  ‘Nearly two o’clock. You hungry? Tea and a sandwich?’

  Dan pulls himself up and swings his bare legs from the bed. He’s wearing his work shirt like an old-fashioned nightdress. It’s surprisingly uncreased. He feels groggy and slightly nauseous, but mentally so much better after four hours of black sleep.

  Standing from the sofa, Seb holds out his palm. ‘Nah, you stay there. Hope you like a BLT.’ He turns at the door. ‘Ma would be proud; I’ve been super polite and waited.’ He grins. ‘To be strictly truthful, it’s actually a BT as I didn’t have lettuce in. Strong Yorkshire tea coming up.’

  Dan pees in the en suite toilet, throws cold water on his face and briskly rubs it with a towel. He looks like shit and his hair is still curly on one side from the rain. As he stares, his thoughts travel back to the A&E waiting room. That horrible clash of two lives he’d found himself living. Both foggy and clear, it feels like it happened a hundred years ago; it feels like yesterday.

  When he returns to the bedroom, Seb’s back on the sofa, mugs of tea and two large floury baps on a tray by his side. As though guessing Dan’s mirror thoughts, he flushes and speaks immediately. ‘We need to talk about the last time you were here.’

  He passes Dan a mug, puts the tray on the floor and the words tumble out.

  ‘It didn’t really occur to me what you might have been thinking at the time. You know, when I called you. I was too fucking panicked to be honest, too relieved when the ambulance came and I knew I wasn’t going to die. But then in the morning one of the nurses on the next shift came in and asked if I would like to talk to the psychiatrist on duty. I was like, what the fuck, but after crossed wires and confusion it turned out I was booked in as an overdose case.’ Boyish and embarrassed, he smiles. ‘Thank God they realised what had happened before they pumped my bloody stomach.’

  Dan is still standing, his hand around the mug. He looks blankly at Seb. ‘What are you talking about?’

  Leaning forward, Seb frowns. ‘I was having an anaphylactic shock, Dan. That’s what it was when I called you. It was an allergic reaction to something I ate when you’d gone. The nuts from the deli bread probably. I had a peanut allergy when I was a kid, but nothing serious, so this attack came out of nowhere and I had no idea what was happening. My fingers started tingling, then my lips and suddenly my throat swelled up. I could hardly swallow. I was really shit-scared.’ He stops, his sharp eyes on Dan’s face. ‘You thought I’d done something stupid, didn’t you?’

  Raking his hand through his hair, Dan drinks his tea without comment as random thoughts float by. Trust and honesty. Truth.

  ‘I didn’t and I won’t, Dan.’ Seb’s face is taut, he continues to stare. ‘I’m on the meds as I promised. It won’t be plain sailing, but if I need help I’m going to ask for it before the walls cave in.’ He abruptly drops his head before lifting it again with charged eyes. ‘I’ve spent a whole childhood watching Mum. Wanting to help, to make it better. Praying for a smile, even a whole conversation. Wanting to fucking shake her at times. Feeling impotent and frustrated. Fucking frightened too. Of turning into her.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘But I’m not going to; I’m not going to hide away like she does.’ He stands, walks towards Dan and puts a hand on his arm. ‘Yeah? Dan, are you listening?’

  Dan nods and takes Seb’s hand, turning it over to examine his palm. The razor scar is still there, like a lifeline. It’s a reminder, not of Seb’s despair that night, but of something else, something stuck in his chest or his heart or his head, that won’t be dislodged.

  Standing back, a deep blush floods Seb’s face as he doggedly continues. ‘Then the other stuff. The blow. I got that wrong. I know that’s not you. I knew it then, really. I just misjudged the whole situation.’ He shrugs his shoulders. ‘I was nervous.’

  Dan looks at his face and can’t help but smile. It’s open, apologetic and vulnerable. And heart-rendingly beautiful. ‘Your hair has grown longer,’ he says, feeling a surge of desire. ‘You have a quiff.’

  ‘Do you like it?’

  ‘I like your hair however you have it.’

  Seb drops his gaze. ‘And the lubricant. In a gift bag, for fuck’s sake! That is embarrassing.’ He sits down and shrugs again. ‘I wanted to please you.’

  ‘Fuck, Seb. You do.’

  He sits down next to Seb at the end of the bed. Shoulder to shoulder, they are silent for some time. Then he sighs.

  ‘When I was ten, something bad happened.’ He clears his throat. ‘Came home, confused, distraught, guilty. Told my mum. She said I was lying. She put a bar of soap in my mouth. To wash away the dirty lie. Dad was in the house but didn’t ask.’ He turns to Seb and smiles thinly. ‘But the next day he painted my bedroom blue. The whole house was white, so that was really special.’

  Seb is silent for a time. ‘This bad something?’

  ‘At church in the vestry. The local parish priest. Father Peter. Pretty old now.’ Dan smiles wryly. ‘Family friend. Mum
’s crutch. Still visits them to this day.’ He sighs again. ‘It was only the once, it was nothing. I don’t think about it; it’s forgotten. I just wanted to tell you.’

  Seb nods, takes Dan’s hand and puts it to his mouth. ‘Are you ready for your sandwich?’ He grins. ‘Looks tasty, don’t you think? Domestic goddess, that’s me.’

  Dan closes his eyes. No inquisition. No prodding nor prying. Just silent acceptance. Thank God for this man. When he opens them, he smiles. ‘It does. Maybe in a while.’ And then, turning to Seb. ‘Do you still have the gift bag?’ he asks.

  It’s dusky through the window when Dan wakes. He’s naked and warm and exhausted; he knows where he is. He looks across at Seb, back on the sofa with his book.

  Seb takes off his glasses. ‘It’s nearly five o’clock. I guess you need to get going.’

  Dan sits and shakes his head. ‘Not yet. Where’s my mobile? I’ll speak to Maya. She’ll sort me more time.’

  He feels inordinately sad; it wasn’t what he expected. Exciting and embarrassing, funny and painful and exquisite, yes, but he hadn’t expected to feel so intensely connected. And so guilty.

  He looks at Seb for a moment, the longing still sharp. ‘Seb. This can’t happen again,’ he says quietly.

  ‘Why not? What’s the difference?’

  ‘You know it’s different now. I mustn’t see you any more.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’ Seb kneels on the bed, his expression falling. ‘My heart was fucking breaking. I thought I’d messed everything up. Then a week or two later, Will mentioned you’d been at the hospital that night. That you seemed pissed and confused, that you were in the wrong place. Then I knew it wasn’t hopeless.’

  ‘But it is hopeless, Seb. I feel utterly hopeless. I love Teddy, I love Geri. I never want to leave them, but how can I be an honest father and partner if I’m … making love with you?’ He wipes away Seb’s tears with soft fingers. ‘And you, Seb. You have your life to live. You’re thirty. It’s marriage and kids now, stability. That’s what you need. This’ll just be a phase, like Claudia.’ Struggling to hold in the anguish, he pauses for a moment. ‘You’ll be much better without me holding you back.’

  Seb stares, his eyes blazing. ‘No, you’re wrong. I’ve fucking loved you since I was thirteen, I’m not going to stop now.’ He holds him by the shoulders. ‘Being with you is like coming up from the bottom of the ocean. I don’t want anybody else. I have a good life. I get out and about, go abroad for shoots. I meet people, go to parties. That won’t last forever, so I’ve spoken to Will about setting up my own agency. That’s fucking stability! Just you and me when we can, that’ll be enough for me.’ He clasps Dan’s face. ‘It’s more than enough, Dan. To feel this? You know it is. Yes, Dan? Say yes.’

  The curtains are closed through the leaded bay window when Dan arrives home. He finds Geri on the sofa, waiting in the dark.

  ‘Sorry I’m so late,’ he says. ‘Where’s Teddy?’

  ‘In bed,’ she replies, nodding to the baby monitor. ‘It’s past eight.’

  He sits next to her. ‘Shall I turn on the lamp?’

  She shakes her head and turns; her eyes glint in the dusk. ‘What’s going on, Dan? Maya called and gave me a mouthful about how hard you’re working, that you’re nearly asleep at your desk, that we should be asking for help, and perhaps she’s right. But it’s not just that, is it?’

  He hears the quaver in her voice, the deep breath of her resolve to push ahead with her speech.

  ‘I haven’t asked you before; I thought it didn’t matter. But …’ She straightens her back, folds her hands in her lap. ‘The night I went into hospital for Teddy’s birth, where were you then? I called and Jen called. We left messages. You didn’t reply. You were missing for hours. Then when you arrived, you smelled of strong alcohol. I put it down to nerves about the baby, but there’s more, isn’t there? I know you’re tired, we’re both tired. But what is it? It started before Teddy was born. I felt you slipping away.’ She takes a shuddery breath. ‘Have you stopped loving me?’

  ‘No, absolutely not.’ Taking both her hands in his, he registers how small they are, her soft woman’s hands. ‘Absolutely not. I love you and I love Teddy—’

  ‘But?’

  He feels a strange calm. There was a moment on the way back from Wilmslow when he thought about driving his car into the front of a speeding lorry, jumping off a bridge, hurling himself towards a racing train, whichever would be the most effective way of ending the conflict and the uncertainty he’s felt for weeks. He finally understood Penny’s and Seb’s urgent need for the internal pressure to just stop. But Geri has given him a gift, that of letting it out, an opportunity of finally being honest. Honest with her; with himself.

  ‘I love someone else too.’ He’s become accustomed to the dark. He can feel her sharp recoil, see the pain in her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It just happened. I don’t love you any less. I don’t want to leave you or Teddy. You’re my family. I love you. But I also love—’

  She quickly places the tips of her fingers on his mouth. ‘No. Stop. I don’t want to know.’

  Putting her hands over her ears, she bends her head to her knees, breathing deeply.

  Dan waits in the silence, listening to the sound of his sleeping son through the monitor, barely thinking, barely there.

  Then suddenly Geri screams, a long high-pitched howl. Pouncing towards him, she slaps his face once, then again and again. ‘You bastard, you bastard, you bastard,’ she shrieks. Her arms wildly flailing, she thrashes his chest, his face and his head until there’s nothing left. Finally falling to her knees, she curls in a ball.

  Knowing each blow is deserved, Dan stays frozen and waits.

  Geri’s voice is muffled when she eventually speaks. ‘Will you still see this person?’

  ‘No. I don’t know. I will try to stop. I have tried to stop—’

  She lifts her head and gazes through anguished eyes. ‘But still you will love them.’ Then quietly and thoughtfully, ‘Until you fall out of love.’

  As though glued there forever, Dan sits silently until roused by the pelt of heavy rainfall against the bay.

  ‘What do you want me to do?’ he asks, shaking himself.

  He feels numb and detached and unbelievably tired. Without Geri, solid and strong, he knows he’ll be lost, but right now he can’t feel it. But there’s a sense of release. Not only the palliation of the confessional, but that he doesn’t have to decide, that it’s out of his hands.

  Staring at the heap of black coals laid ready for the next cold snap, he finally speaks again. ‘I can move out, tonight, tomorrow, whenever. If that’s what you want. I’ll pay the bills, give you money, anything you need. Just tell me what you want.’

  Geri sits up and sighs. Studying his face, she lifts her hand and strokes his new growth of stubble. ‘We need you. I need you. I want you to stay.’

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Penny

  Debbie gazes for a moment before speaking.

  ‘Hi, Penny. You have a lovely glow in your cheeks. How’s life?’

  ‘Great, actually.’

  And she does feel great without those blasted pills. In fact high as a kite! Already a little slimmer and pooing every morning, thank God! Not that Will noticed her weight. He was glad just to be back to normal, relaxed in their bed, watching TV, sleeping and snoring. Not that they’ve done much dozing of late. She’s felt unbelievably horny for the past couple of weeks, not just because of the amazing surge of energy, but because Will finally said yes to Grand Cayman.

  Distracted for a moment, she stares at the hole in her tights. Watches for several seconds to check this one’s not growing.

  ‘Penny?’

  She comes back to Debbie’s inquisitive gaze. What were they talking about? Will, of course, her Will. What else matters? ‘Well, if I’m honest, I was a bit … a bit worried about Will. He was working so hard, not really talking, distracted. I knew something was on his mind but n
ot knowing was …’ She smiles brightly. ‘Work, of course, the demands of that job! So I encouraged him to apply for a different role. Less pressure and stress. Just what he needs. Abroad, actually.’ She pictures him gazing listlessly at his phone for bloody days before finally deciding. ‘But he needed time to think it through.’

  ‘Was he doubtful?’

  ‘Yes, and in fairness understandably so. For me it’s just perfect.’ She smiles wryly, feeling a little guilty about blaming her mum again. Still, only white lies. Or exaggeration, perhaps. Her mum is sort of narcissistic; the disapproval of her only daughter is there, she’s certain of it. ‘Getting away from my personal stress, an opportunity to delve into books and my writing, not to mention the prospect of sunshine and sea! But it’s a bigger wrench for Will because …’

  The A Team, of course. That weird paranoia about Holly. Then there’s Jen, always Jen. But she isn’t going to let that spoil her happiness. They are escaping. Escaping! Will was seriously wavering, she’s sure of it, but she got him back on track, upping the Mum stress before someone else applied for the job. It worked like a treat. Everything is panning out perfectly.

  ‘Penny? You were saying about Will …’

  She knows Debbie is speaking, but her mind can’t move on. It’s her imagination about Holly, it really is. Will would have told her; she trusts him implicitly, just like he trusts her.

  ‘Penny?’

  ‘Sorry.’ She catches the hole in her tights. Definitely growing. Pushing hard to come back, she lifts her gaze to Debbie’s soft eyes. What were they saying? Yes, Will, her lovely Will. ‘Sorry, yes, Will was hesitant, but he came home from work one day and said he’d given them a yes. Put in a demand for a swimming pool and enough bedrooms for visitors.’ She beams, she can’t help it. ‘A new start! In Grand Cayman of all places! I don’t know if you’ve seen the film The Firm? Well, in one scene there’s a red phone box just by the sea. Will’s office will be a stone’s throw from there. I’ve watched it ten times!’