No Turning Back

by Susan Lewis

  ‘If you don’t feel up to going into the shop tomorrow,’ Livvy said softly, ‘I mean, I know you work here on Saturday mornings anyway, but if you don’t want to come in later, we can easily manage.’

  Unable to think that far ahead, Eva picked up her wine again, but as she took a sip another rush of panic swept through her as she wondered what Don and Patty would be doing tomorrow. ‘I’m sorry,’ she gasped. ‘I’m not dealing with this very well …’

  ‘Nobody could,’ Livvy told her forcefully. ‘It’s just the worst.’

  Eva put her head back in an effort to stem the tears, but it didn’t work because they just kept coming. ‘So he went straight there,’ she said raggedly.

  ‘If it’s any consolation,’ Livvy said tenderly, ‘Mum’s in a terrible state too. I mean, OK, she deserves to be, but it’s not like she doesn’t care, because she really does.’

  ‘Knowing that just confirms how serious it is,’ Eva pointed out, and almost immediately wished she hadn’t, not only because of how much it hurt her, but because of the regret that shot to Livvy’s eyes. Then with a wry, shaky laugh, she said, ‘It’s odd, isn’t it, that they should be together down there, while I’m up here with you, their children. Can you make any sense of that?’

  Livvy and Jasmine exchanged glances as they shook their heads.

  ‘But we’re here for you all the way,’ Jasmine told her.

  ‘Jake will be too,’ Livvy assured her.

  Reaching for their hands, Eva held them tightly as she thanked them. There was no point in telling them that she’d rather be alone, because this wasn’t easy for them either. And actually, with so many demons already starting to rise up from her past, maybe it wasn’t a good idea for her to be on her own.

  Chapter Eleven

  Eva was surfacing from the depths of a dream, slowly becoming aware of early morning sunrays slanting through chinks in the curtains. She could hear a dog barking – was it Rosie? – and the seagulls crying. With her eyes still closed she rolled over to snuggle into Don, and gave a murmur of complaint when she found he wasn’t there.

  Then she remembered – and as her heart flooded with panic she sat bolt upright, almost crying out in denial. It couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t – but images of him and Patty waking up together were already taunting her with their cruel reality. She could see them moving into each other’s arms, their bodies joining, their limbs entwining. She knew how it was to feel him holding her, his thighs locked to hers. He was tender and rough, rocking with a gentle, sleepy rhythm. Patty’s eyes would close, her back would arch … Throwing aside the covers, she stumbled to the bathroom, already retching as the betrayal stifled and choked her. She had to get rid of the images, the torment, the jealousy, the fury …

  When there seemed no more left inside she sank to the floor, her heart thudding a punishing tattoo, her eyes wet with tears and strain. Her breath was ragged, shallow and fearful. She wrapped her arms round her head and pressed her knees to her chest. She couldn’t stand it, she just couldn’t, yet she knew from before that this was how it was going to be from now on, the pain, the longing and despair that would churn her up inside, ravage and destroy her and never go away. Already trying to get through the next minutes was causing her to panic, but what about the days, weeks, months, even years to come?

  Squeezing herself into an even tighter ball, as though to escape time and keep out the world, she fought back more nausea along with the pointless, pathetic hope of what else this early morning sickness could mean. She knew already it wasn’t possible, and anyway, it would be the wrong way to try and make Don stay with her.

  The longing for her son was suddenly so intense it was eclipsing everything else. She needed to know if he was all right, if the day was drawing close when she’d finally be able to look at him, speak to him, maybe even hold him. If she could do this, she’d have a reason to go on.

  Hearing a knock on the bedroom door reminded her that Livvy and Jasmine were there and would probably be worried about how she’d slept, and how she might be this morning. Even if she could put it into words she wouldn’t tell them, not only because of how self-pitying it would sound, but because she didn’t want to make them feel any worse about what their parents had done than they already did. What an irony that they should be here, looking out for her, Jasmine especially, when not much more than a week ago they’d had virtually no relationship at all. With a horrible twist in her heart she realised why Don and Patty hadn’t been keen for Jasmine to work at the shop: if she and Jasmine became close it would make it so much harder for them to be together.

  ‘Eva, are you awake?’ Livvy called out. ‘I’ve brought you some tea.’

  Not wanting Livvy to see her in such a state, Eva started to drag herself up, calling back, ‘Could you take it downstairs? I’ll come and join you in a minute.’

  After Livvy had gone Eva stood over the washbasin, splashing cold water on her face. As she looked at herself in the mirror she felt the terrible reality of what was happening starting to submerge her again. Her scars seemed so livid this morning, as though the pain inside was inflaming them, bringing them back to life as cruelly as the day they’d been inflicted. What she couldn’t see, but was able to feel far more deeply, were the scars across her heart, the ones that had been left by her mother, Nick, herself – and the fresh, terrible wounds from last night, so deep and raw that the pain was almost impossible to bear. She tried to take a breath, but her chest was too tight. She drenched her face again. Her eyes were puffy and red, reminding her of how she’d paced the room in the night, picking up the phone and putting it down again, all the time longing, hating, fearing, willing, plotting, and doing as she already had this morning, tormenting herself with devastatingly erotic images of them together.

  An hour later, after Livvy and Jasmine had left to go and open the shop, Eva was back in the bedroom staring down at the remnants of a white gauzy mist that was drifting like a whisper across the fields, and the playful sparkles of sunlight on the dew. She and Don had loved to take Elvis and Rosie for a walk on a morning like this, wrapped up warmly to keep out the wind, holding hands as they talked, or with arms around one another as they simply strolled and soaked up the splendour of their stretch of the Jurassic coast. She didn’t have it in her to take her beloved beasts on her own today, and she wouldn’t force herself, because of how it might end. But she would take them, when she was ready to deal with how alone she would feel without Don at her side, and was able to answer their neighbours’ queries as to where he was. Her eyes closed as the thought of admitting he’d left her brought more devastation to her heart. It wasn’t something she could ever imagine facing up to, she’d do anything to avoid it, but sooner or later she wouldn’t have a choice.

  Her eyes were stinging with more tears as they moved on around the garden, seeing many more happy memories than flowers and trees. They’d worked so hard on turning it into their own piece of paradise, laying out the lawns and pathways, planting vegetables, trees and flowers, and creating Elvis’s private little paddock. She recalled the endless discussions on where to put the summer house and how large to make the pond. They’d known straight away where to set up their private enclave – a place to dine by candlelight on balmy evenings, just the two of them under the stars. If it was warm enough they didn’t bother to come inside to be intimate, and now she could only wonder if they’d ever make love again.

  How was she going to carry on living here without him? Though in reality it was her house, he was everywhere; there was nothing that didn’t remind her of him, and make her want him so much that it was already eating her up. If only he was the kind of man who womanised and cheated, who had a history of leaving and coming back, maybe there would be a chance this wasn’t the end – but he wasn’t that kind of man. He was honest, decent, and scrupulous in every way. But how could she think that now? He was as capable as anyone of lying, cheating and betraying the woman who’d always trusted him without question and who
loved him with all her heart – and knowing that was, maybe, the worst part of all. It allowed her no hope, gave her nothing to hang on to …

  Feeling a jolt go through her as the telephone rang, she quickly reached for it, hoping, praying it would be him, even though she had no idea what she’d say.

  ‘Eva? Are you there?’

  Hearing Patty’s voice, she slammed the receiver down and covered her face with her hands. She couldn’t, wouldn’t speak to Patty, ever again. This was the end for them and knowing it, feeling it, was tearing through her with such force that it was shaking her from head to foot. Her sister was the woman who’d done this to her; who’d been sleeping with her husband, going behind her back and quietly, selfishly destroying her life. How could she have done that? What had happened to turn her into someone so deceitful and cruel? She could never have been in any doubt of how devastating her betrayal would be, how completely and utterly it would shatter her sister’s world, yet she’d done it anyway. Why? What had driven her? Where had her decency gone; her love and loyalty? How was she feeling now? Wretched? Triumphant? Happy to be with the man she loved?

  How could she love him when she had no right to?

  Recalling how afraid she and Livvy had been that Patty’s cancer had returned, she suddenly found herself wishing it had. Anything rather than this – except she surely couldn’t mean that? Or maybe she did. It was impossible to think straight when she was so torn apart with shock and fury and miserable confusion.

  Knowing she had to do something, anything, to try and stop things going any further, she picked up the phone again and pressed in Don’s mobile number. She’d want to die if he didn’t answer – it would mean he was avoiding her, letting her know in another way that it was over.

  When the ringing stopped she said, ‘Hello. It’s me.’

  ‘I know,’ he said softly. ‘Are you OK?’

  Pain and love mingled in her heart. She could barely speak. ‘No, not really,’ she admitted shakily. ‘I – I can’t …’ She tried again. ‘I want you to tell me that you didn’t mean … That you’ve changed your mind.’

  When he didn’t respond she imagined the sorrow in his eyes and sank to her knees, her mouth open in a silent, terrible scream.

  ‘What are you doing today?’ he asked gently.

  ‘I don’t know. I … Where are you?’

  ‘At the boat.’

  She clung to it like a lifeline. He wasn’t at Patty’s. Maybe they hadn’t spent the night together. ‘Is Patty with you?’ she asked cautiously.

  ‘No.’

  She almost came apart with relief, but what did it really mean? Nothing, because he could be lying, or maybe he’d only just got there. She wanted to ask if he’d made love to Patty since he’d left, but somehow she managed not to. ‘I want to see you,’ she said hoarsely. ‘I think we should talk.’

  ‘OK.’

  No hesitancy or reluctance, it was almost as though he wanted to see her too. Should she take heart from that? ‘I can come now if it’s convenient.’

  ‘I’m at the mooring in West Bay.’

  Half an hour later they were walking along the shingly stretch of East Beach with the warmth of the sun beating down on them, and a fresh, sporadic breeze wafting the scents of seaweed and wet sand. In the far distance the sweeping curve of Chesil Beach glittered in the sunlight, and the sea, gently swelling and soughing, was like a blue bed of brilliant floating stars. It felt strange to be without Rosie and Elvis, but it was good not to have the distraction when they needed this time for themselves.

  She’d realised, on arriving, that Don must have been watching out for her, because by the time she’d parked, in front of the Bridport Arms, he was there, opening the car door for her to get out. She hadn’t expected him to take her in his arms, so when he had a rush of confused emotions had stolen her words. She suspected the same had happened to him, because his voice was gruff and scratchy when he finally asked if she’d like to go for a walk. She’d wondered if it was because he didn’t want to be alone with her on the boat where they’d shared so many happy and intimate times, or maybe Patty was there, waiting for him to come back. She hadn’t asked, because she hadn’t wanted to know the answer.

  As they walked on and still neither of them spoke, she started to feel afraid that she’d acted too soon. Was it too early for them to be meeting like this? Maybe she should have allowed him some time to realise the full impact of what he’d done, to find out what it was like going home to Patty every evening, to discover, perhaps, that he was missing her far more than he’d expected. On the other hand, she’d felt so panicked and afraid of it all that standing there in her bedroom, certain they were together, she’d been unable to tolerate another hour, even another minute going by without doing something to try and save her marriage.

  ‘Did you manage to sleep last night?’ he asked finally, keeping his head down as they pressed their feet into the wet, shiny flats of the sand.

  ‘A little,’ she replied. ‘How about you?’

  ‘I guess the same.’

  She looked up at the golden cliffs soaring skywards beside them, and tried to count the seagulls perched on tiny ledges like ornaments in an old lady’s front room. As a distraction it didn’t work, but at least it bought her a moment or two. ‘You need to talk to Jasmine,’ she told him.

  His awkwardness was audible as he said, ‘I’m sorry, I’d forgotten she was coming. Did she …? Did you tell her?’

  ‘Yes, because I had to, but she needs to hear from you what’s going on.’

  ‘Of course.’ Then, ‘I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have fallen to you to tell her.’

  ‘No, it shouldn’t, but then it shouldn’t be happening at all.’

  When he didn’t respond she clenched her fists tightly in her pockets, willing herself to stay calm, but she couldn’t. He had to say something, show some sort of remorse, or guilt, anything at all. What she really wanted was something to hold on to, a few poignant words that would allow her to hope. ‘We don’t have to go through with this,’ she told him forcefully. ‘I’m willing to … I can forgive …’

  ‘Please don’t do this,’ he broke in gently.

  ‘For God’s sake, I have to try something,’ she cried. ‘I can’t just let you go because you’ve decided … Because you don’t …’ She caught her breath. ‘It doesn’t change anything for me. You’re still my husband and I still want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please tell me that’s going to happen. Let me hear you say you’re not going to leave me, that you still love me as much as I love you.’

  Turning her to him, he reached for her hands and held them tightly in his own as he said, ‘The last thing I want is to hurt you …’

  ‘But you don’t have to! I just told you, I can forgive what you’ve done …’

  ‘It’s not a question of forgiveness, it’s about how wrong it would be for me to go on deceiving you.’

  ‘But it doesn’t …’

  ‘Ssh, please listen. I really didn’t want to have to say this, but … I love Patty, I want to be with her and I’m afraid nothing we say here today is going to change that.’

  As the sincerity, the quiet force of his words seared through her heart, she felt as though he’d struck her.

  Drawing her to him he held her close, trying to comfort her as her heart continued to break, but she pulled away and turned to gaze out to sea. The wind was whipping her hair round her face, the sun was blinding her, but all she could feel was the terrible, shattering reality of her world, her life, falling slowly, inexorably apart.

  In the end, grasping practicality as though it were a weapon, she said, ‘Do you and Patty intend to stay in the area? If you do, I’ll put the house on the market.’

  He turned her back to him. ‘You don’t have to do that,’ he told her. ‘I admit it’s going to be difficult being around one another for a while …’

  ‘For a while?’ She almost laughed. ‘Do you really think this is going to be over in a few wee
ks, or months? That given the right amount of time I’ll be happy to know you’re making love to my sister …’

  ‘No, of course not,’ he answered quietly. ‘I just don’t want you to do anything hasty, or unnecessary, like selling the house when I know how much it means to you.’

  ‘I thought it did to you too.’

  ‘It does.’

  ‘However, it’s mine, not yours, so what do you really care? And anyway, whatever the situation, I suppose you’re going to say that Patty means more.’

  He fell silent, and she wanted to slap away the closed expression on his face. It was how he always looked when something was hurting him, and the fact that he was finding this so hard was making it a thousand times harder for her.

  She turned to walk on, taking long, determined strides as though they might somehow move her away from the sickening madness of it all.

  When he caught up with her he tried to take her hand, but she wouldn’t allow it.

  ‘I want you to know that I’ll be there for you whenever I can,’ he told her. ‘I’m not just walking away …’

  ‘But that’s exactly what you’re doing,’ she yelled, her eyes blazing with fury as she spun round to him. ‘You’ve told me it’s over, that you want to be with my sister and whatever that might do to me apparently doesn’t matter, just as long as you two get what you want.’

  ‘Of course it matters,’ he said sharply. ‘It’s why I’m here now, and why Patty wants to talk to you …’

  ‘Forget it.’

  ‘She’s your sister, you have to give her the chance …’

  ‘I don’t have to give her anything,’ she cut in savagely. ‘What she’s done … What you’re both doing …’ The words were being sucked away by rage and jealousy. She had to get them back, keep her anger going, because without it she’d collapse inside. ‘I have nothing to say to her,’ she spat furiously.

  ‘Yet you’ll talk to me.’

  ‘Because I want to save our marriage,’ she shouted. ‘How else am I going to do that if we don’t talk?’