‘We’ll be leaving in ten minutes so I’d say he’ll be at yours within the hour. And if he isn’t, I’ll want to know why.’
Julia had yet to voice her concerns to Phoebe, but even if Helen hadn’t told her, the playful comment couldn’t disguise the fact that her friend’s trust in her husband had been dented.
‘So what did you want anyway?’ Julia was asking.
‘Sorry?’
Julia laughed. ‘You phoned me, remember?’
‘Oh, erm, nothing really,’ Phoebe said, trying to remember the spurious excuse she had prepared. ‘It was only to see if you wanted me to pick up any last bits and pieces but it looks like you’ve got that covered.’
Phoebe was on the move even as she ended the call and she was still blow-drying her hair when she saw Paul’s car pulling up outside. Whatever the future held for them both, she had decided that she wouldn’t spend the next decade being as invisible as she had in the previous. She still felt that need for Paul to look at her, really look at her, and to want her, if not as much as Julia, then just a little. The torture of what might have been was no longer hers alone.
‘Do you want to go out?’ Paul asked with a sheepish look on his face as he stood on the doorstep. He hadn’t even ventured inside the porch. ‘I have over an hour to kill.’
The idea of a driving lesson took Phoebe by surprise. She had completely forgotten that was why he was coming over and looked down at the high heels she had just slipped on. They were patent leather and went perfectly with the turquoise bodycon dress she was wearing, the one she had bought with the intention of strutting around Manhattan. ‘I’d have to change into my boots first.’
Paul bit his lip as his gaze lingered over her curves before he could stop himself. ‘It wasn’t my idea to come over.’
She smiled at him. ‘I know. Come in.’
Without asking, Phoebe led Paul through to the kitchen where, in a repeat of their last meeting, she switched on the kettle. There was an outside chance they might actually have a drink this time.
‘Julia knows something’s going on,’ Paul said. ‘I swear the guilt must be written all over my face because in the last couple of days she hasn’t been able to look at me. I want to ask her what’s wrong but at the same time I’m scared she might just tell me.’
‘I can tell you,’ Phoebe said as she carried on making the drinks as if this were a normal conversation. ‘Julia’s told Helen she doesn’t think you were at the gym on Thursday. Apparently she’s taken to sniffing your clothes.’
‘Shit! I really would be rubbish at having an affair.’
‘Then it’s lucky that you’re not having one.’
Continuing to avoid making eye contact, Phoebe looked inside the fridge, which was almost bare, and took her time finding the milk.
‘I can’t believe what we’ve done,’ Paul said. ‘I hate myself. You have no idea how much.’
She turned back and said, ‘Oh, I think I do.’
‘It can’t happen again, Phoebe.’
‘Would you want it to?’ she asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.
Releasing a sigh, Paul looked around the kitchen as if the evidence of his infidelity were on display. When his eyes settled back on Phoebe they managed to hold each other’s gaze, but unlike Thursday evening there was no connection to be made with the past or the present, and certainly no more unfinished business.
‘You’re a beautiful woman, Phoebe, and I care about you, but I love Julia. You really do deserve better – and so does Julia. God knows what I’m going to do if she does find out. I suppose it’s something that she doesn’t suspect you’re involved.’
‘But someone does.’
Paul’s eyes widened in fear. ‘Helen? Have you told her?’
‘While I would like nothing better than to confront Helen about what she did to us, at the moment I don’t feel like I have the right to take the moral high ground.’
‘Then how does she know?’
Phoebe turned her attention back to making the drinks, giving herself a moment to think. She didn’t want to tell him that she had made a drunken confession about being in love with him. For one thing, she wasn’t sure that was how she felt any more. Where once she had felt sick with love, now she felt sick with self-loathing. ‘She just knew we were getting closer than we should, that’s all,’ she said.
‘You can’t tell her, Phoebe! We can’t tell anyone,’ Paul said. ‘I don’t know what I thought I was doing, and I’m not saying I don’t have regrets about what happened all those years ago, but …’
Phoebe picked up two mugs and offered one to Paul while he continued to grapple with his words.
‘Shall we go somewhere else?’ she asked, and when she saw the look of horror on his face she found herself smiling. ‘I meant to the living room. I wasn’t about to seduce you again.’
Paul took his drink and didn’t speak until they were both sitting down. ‘You didn’t seduce me, Phoebe. If anything, I was the one who made the first move.’
Shaking her head, Phoebe said, ‘We both have to take responsibility for our actions. It happened and there’s nothing we can do about it. It was a moment of madness, a really bad one, but it’s over now.’
Paul thought for a moment and then said, ‘I know we’re going to have to lie to other people, but can we at least be honest with ourselves? As moments of madness go, it was a pretty long and drawn out one. I’m not suggesting it goes right back through my entire marriage to Julia, but maybe since I started giving you driving lessons.’
‘We’d forgotten how easily we could talk to each other,’ Phoebe agreed. ‘And you reminded me I once had a spark. You made me want to get it back.’
Paul made sure he was looking at his feet when he said, ‘And you are getting it back. I just hope I haven’t done something to set you back. If I could split myself in two—’
‘Don’t,’ she interrupted, not because she didn’t want to hear it but because, finally, she didn’t have to. She had felt hollow and wretched for days, and her guilt had been the perfect antidote to her childish infatuation – or at least that was what she had to believe if she were going to move on from this. ‘I will get that spark back, Paul, but it’ll be through my own accomplishments, and not just a reflection in someone else’s eyes.’
Paul finally lifted his head and looked at her.
‘There is no us,’ she continued, ‘and if things had been allowed to run their course then we would have worked it out long before now. Let’s leave it at that, shall we? Agreed?’
‘Agreed.’
28
The Accident
Julia and Phoebe were briefly united in their stance. Despite their injuries, which should have slowed them down, they were both hell-bent on seeing Helen, and Anya didn’t doubt for a minute that they would follow through with their threats to discharge themselves. She had managed to keep Phoebe in bed for the time being, but Paul Richardson had been less successful in restraining his wife who had made good her threat and already ripped the cannula from her arm.
‘You don’t seem to realize how serious your condition is,’ Anya said to Julia. Turning to Phoebe, she added, ‘Or yours. You’ve both had surgery, and neither of you are fit enough to get out of bed, let alone be discharged. You risk internal bleeding, or further damage that might stop you from making a full recovery, and not to put too fine a point on it, that damage could be fatal.’
During the commotion Milly had been all but forgotten, having flown into her father’s arms while Anya and Paul fought to restrain the two unruly patients. It was the fragile child’s suppressed sob that brought the group to their senses.
‘I’m sorry!’ Milly cried. ‘I didn’t mean to get you into trouble. You can’t get out of bed. Please Julia, please Phoebe. I don’t want anyone to die!’
Julia threw open her arms. ‘Milly, it’s all right, honey, no one’s going to die, I promise.’ When Milly failed to accept the hug being offered, Julia looked puz
zled until she noticed everyone staring at her left arm where blood was streaming down her forearm.
‘I’ll get some gauze and call the registrar. He can talk to you about who’s fit enough to get out of bed and who isn’t,’ Anya said.
‘And in the meantime, you go back to your mum,’ Julia said to Milly. ‘Tell her we love her and that we’ll come and see her just as soon as we can.’
‘Tell her to hang on,’ Phoebe added.
When Anya returned with the gauze, Milly and her dad had disappeared and she hoped the immediate crisis was over. ‘This is just temporary,’ she said to Julia. ‘The registrar can decide if you need a new cannula inserted. He’s with another patient at the moment but shouldn’t be long.’
‘Tell him not to bother,’ Julia said. ‘I’m not staying.’
‘Julia,’ Paul said, ‘listen to what she’s saying. You can’t move.’
‘Don’t tell me what to do, Paul! Don’t ever tell me what to do again.’
‘Please, listen to your husband, Mrs Richardson,’ Anya added.
‘He’s not my husband,’ Julia said. ‘Not as far as I’m concerned.’
‘Please, Julia, I’m begging you,’ Paul said, his voice shaking with emotion. ‘I know you don’t want to hear this now, but I love you. I messed up and I’ll admit that for a while I lost sight of what we had because I was consumed by what we didn’t have and, I’m sorry, but so did you. If we’d had the chance to talk yesterday before the accident then, if I’m honest – and I swear I’m being more honest than I have been in a long time, with myself as much as you – I probably wouldn’t have been able to speak with as much certainty as I can now, but I still would have said the same thing. I know what I want, Julia, and it’s you. I need you to give me a second chance. I’ll do anything you ask.’
Paul was panting and his cheeks were flushed, but not as flushed as Phoebe’s, Anya noted. The nurse was beginning to make sense of what was happening, but their private lives were of little consequence at the moment. She was only concerned with their medical needs and concentrated on cleaning Julia’s wound.
‘If you want to help, Paul, then find me a wheelchair, something that will cope with this,’ Julia said, nodding towards her immobilized leg.
‘Any ideas?’ Paul asked Anya.
With a sigh, Anya said, ‘You’d better ask Sister. She might be able to suggest something,’ she said, knowing full well that he was more likely to receive a lecture rather than a wheelchair.
‘I love you, Julia,’ Paul said as he prepared to leave. ‘And I won’t rest until I’ve proved that to you. I won’t rest until I make you love me again.’
‘Don’t hold your breath,’ she muttered.
‘What about a wheelchair for me?’ Phoebe asked, but Paul had turned away and left it to his wife to answer.
‘Hasn’t he seen to your needs already?’
‘Please, Julia, you don’t know the whole story.’
Julia stared straight ahead, a snarl of contempt on her face as she watched Paul disappear out of the ward. ‘Oh, but I can imagine.’
‘No, you don’t understand. Back when we first met—’
‘I know, Phoebe,’ Julia interrupted.
Anya couldn’t help herself; she looked up and glanced from Julia’s hardened expression to Phoebe’s pained features.
‘You knew it went further than Paul just giving me a lift home?’
Bristling, Julia said, ‘You think Paul and I didn’t talk about it? I accepted it was something you didn’t want to tell me, but the thing is, Phoebe, you can’t keep secrets from your friends as easily as you think. You should have known that before you started fooling around with my husband. Or is that what you wanted? Did you want to be found out?’
Phoebe’s breathing had become rapid and Anya thought she might have another crisis on her hands.
‘You knew about us?’ Phoebe repeated.
‘Yes, I know everything.’
‘But that’s where you’re wrong,’ Phoebe said, not sounding the least bit smug about correcting her.
29
The alarm had been set to give Julia an hour to get ready, have breakfast, then throw the last bits and pieces into her suitcase. They were due to catch the ten o’clock train to London and Paul had booked the morning off to take her to the station, picking up Helen and Phoebe along the way. She was already awake when the alarm went off, but she didn’t move. With her back to her husband and her stomach in knots, she heard Paul begin to stir. He rolled towards her and when he kissed her shoulder, she tensed to such a degree that she wanted to be sick.
The warmth of Paul’s breath against her skin as he released a sigh sent a shiver down her spine. He had risen up on an elbow and placed his hand on her bare shoulder. She bit her lip as she felt his fingers trail down the length of her arm before sliding over her stomach, which had clenched to hold back another wave of nausea.
‘I love you,’ he whispered.
The reply that would once have come so easily caught in Julia’s throat. In the last few days she had developed quite a clear image of Paul in bed with another woman, one who wouldn’t remind him of his failings as a man. She wished she could resurrect the unshakeable trust she had once held, but all she could think about was that unused T-shirt.
‘This is where you’re supposed to say you love me back,’ Paul said.
They both held their breath as she rolled onto her back and looked up at him. ‘Are you seeing someone else?’ she asked.
Paul’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re about to gallivant around the world and you choose now to accuse me of having an affair?’
She regretted the question immediately. ‘I’m sorry, but something feels wrong, Paul, and it’s scaring me.’
‘Well, it doesn’t help that you freeze up every time I touch you. Do you want me to find someone else, Julia? Is that it? You once said you were prepared to leave me so I could have children with someone else. Are you hoping I’ll make the same kind of sacrifice?’
‘No!’ she cried. ‘I don’t care about those bloody fertility results. I care about us.’
Paul didn’t look convinced and when he made a move to turn away she grabbed him. ‘I love you,’ she said.
He put his hand over his face and pushed a thumb and forefinger against his eyes, which were glistening. She pulled his hand away and said again, ‘I love you.’
When he leaned down and kissed her, Julia kissed him back with more than a little desperation. She wanted so much to revive the passion she knew was buried deep inside but she remained fixated on the possibility that the hands that were gently caressing her body had been exploring another woman’s curves. She froze again as another wave of nausea hit her. She felt Paul’s body sag and when he pulled away he moved quickly and didn’t stop until he had climbed out of bed.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘I don’t blame you. I have nothing to offer you, Julia.’
‘Stop it!’ she cried, pulling herself up so she was kneeling on the bed. ‘Stop putting yourself down at every opportunity – that’s what’s wrong with us, that’s why I feel like I’m this constant ball of apology. I’m sorry that we ever went through all those tests and I’m even more sorry that it wasn’t me who had the fertility problems! Right now, I’m sorry for ever wanting a baby in the first place!’
‘I wanted it too!’ he yelled back, his eyes blazing with fear and pain. ‘I still do, Julia. You have no idea how much!’
‘Please, Paul,’ she said, reaching out to him.
He shook his head, taking a step nearer the door. ‘We both need some space,’ he said. ‘Maybe you going away is good timing.’
After he left Julia was tempted to hide back under the covers, but the mounting fear that her marriage might be over twisted her insides and sent her running to the bathroom. She stood with her hands on the white porcelain basin while her body quaked. She had never been so frightened in all her life. She had been racked with nerves on the morning they had been
due to see the consultant, but at least then she hadn’t felt so alone.
With time ticking by, Julia seriously considered calling off the holiday. Her marriage was more important and her friends would understand. If she went away there was a chance this other woman Paul was seeing – and he hadn’t denied it, she noted – would sink her claws deeper into him. Should she stay and fight? Could she forgive him if he had been unfaithful? What if he was deliberately pushing her away? And if they did manage to get through this then how would their marriage stand up to the stress of fertility treatment? They had been offered counselling and perhaps that was something to pursue, but not yet, not until she knew exactly what damage her marriage had already sustained. Julia’s body began to sway as her thoughts churned up her stomach. She wanted to trust her husband, even if at that moment it was only blind faith.
Retreating into the safety of routine, Julia began her morning ablutions. She was in a trance as she showered and it was only when she had wrapped herself in a towelling robe and opened the bathroom cabinet that she was pulled up short. The shelves were crammed with ovulation kits and pregnancy tests, along with the sanitary towels that had proven far more necessary. She had stopped tracking her menstrual cycle to the hour but she hadn’t ignored it completely and she knew she would need supplies to take away. Picking up a pack, her movements slowed as she visualized a calendar. She was only a day, late and where once she might have paced the floor excitedly as she tried one pregnancy test after another, convinced the last one was faulty, now she knew the fault lay elsewhere. Paul reminded her of it constantly.
Taking a deep breath, Julia kept hold of the sanitary towels while pocketing another item from the cupboard. It was ridiculous to even think of using it, but the warm sensation of hope trickling into her heart gave her the momentum she needed to finish packing and to form a superficial truce with her husband that would paper over the cracks in their marriage, if only for the duration of the drive to the station.
‘And relax!’ Helen said, as if she and her friends had just completed a strenuous workout. By the look on Phoebe and Julia’s faces, the task of dragging their suitcases onto the train had left them completely drained. They had reserved table seats and although that left one vacant space, their fellow passengers had chosen wisely to avoid it, leaving the three friends to enjoy the first leg of their transatlantic journey in relative peace.
The Goodbye Gift Page 29
