He turned away abruptly from her and he went down the stairs to his study where he stayed until she had done as he asked, and had gone up to their room by herself. Then he lay down just as he was in his clothes, pulled the blanket over him and closed his eyes. But he couldn’t sleep; how could he sleep with the picture of Jill in Ben Gardner’s arms continually playing and replaying like a film in his mind? His wife, his beloved Jill, their life together, their marriage was ruined, and as he lay in the darkness the tears ran, unchecked, down his face.
Upstairs alone in their bed, Jill couldn’t sleep either. She felt empty and wrung out. She had hurt Anthony, she had hurt Ben, the children could still be hurt, and she was hurting herself, hurting like hell. From now on, whatever happened, everything would be different, there could be no going back. She didn’t want to leave Anthony, to break up the family and its home, but how could she stay now, always assuming Anthony wanted her to stay? He would worry about the children as well. What would be best for them?
He’s right about one thing, she thought in anguish, it isn’t private between us. They all saw me with Ben, they’ll all know, or they’ll guess, and what they don’t know they’ll make up. If only I’d put the car in the garage, I’d have seen Anthony’s car. I’d have known he was home and I’d have come straight in.
But would she? She wasn’t sure. Her affair with Ben was all over now, but it might not have been. If she had simply come home to find Anthony there, she’d have come in, as from the pub and she knew she wouldn’t have ended it. But discovery had forced the end upon her.
She lay alone in the big bed and she wept too, for herself, for Anthony, for Ben. Whatever happened, she could never see him again. Finally, she fell into an uneasy sleep, but was awake again before the grey winter light began to filter between the curtains.
She heard Anthony come upstairs and use the bathroom. She heard the shower running and the familiar knocking in the hot water pipes, and she wondered how it could all sound so normal, now that their world had changed forever. She knew, of course, that it all had to appear normal for the sake of the children, to maintain the pretence for Isabelle, but she wondered how they would manage it.
When Anthony came softly into the bedroom to collect some clothes, Jill feigned sleep until he had gone out again, but it fooled neither of them, it just gave them a few more moments before they had to face each other and reality again.
When she had showered and dressed herself, she went down, and found the children already sitting at the breakfast table eating cereal. Isabelle was in the kitchen making coffee, and Anthony was sitting, hidden behind the Sunday paper. She glanced at him over the top of it, and saw how tired and haggard he looked. Obviously he hadn’t slept either.
As she had been getting dressed, Jill had come to a decision. She needed, they both needed, some time and space to come to terms with what had happened. She would go to her mother, she thought, and take the children with her. She could stay for a few days, and give them both the necessary breathing space, before they had to find some way to reassemble their lives. With this decision taken, before she came downstairs, she had phoned her mother and asked if she could bring the children to stay for a few days.
Nancy sounded surprised. “But isn’t Sylvia still at school? They surely haven’t broken up for Christmas this early, have they?”
“No, Mum, they haven’t, but I need a break, and it won’t hurt her to miss a few days at her age.”
“But isn’t she a shepherd or something in the nativity play? Won’t she miss the rehearsals?” Nancy wondered.
“Mum,” Jill almost shouted down the phone, “just answer me, can Icome or not?!”
“Of course you can come,” Nancy said at once. “When shall I expect you?”
“I’m not sure,” Jill said. “Sometime today. Just expect me when you see me, OK?”
Nancy could hear that Jill was almost at breaking point and so she simply said, “Fine, darling. You just come when you’re ready.” She didn’t ask if Anthony would be coming too, she didn’t need to. She knew that her daughter was running away from something, she just didn’t know what.
“Anthony,” Jill began, “I thought I’d take the children to visit Mum for a few days.”
He lowered his paper and looked at her impassively. “Whatever you think,” he said. “I shall be away all week.”
“Oh, I didn’t know.” Jill was surprised.
“Conference,” he said shortly. “I wasn’t going to go as I’d been away so much, but it would be better if I did.”
“Yes, all right.” Jill didn’t know what to say, but she did feel relief at their being apart for a while. “Well, I’ll pack after breakfast and we’ll get there in time for lunch.”
“Does Nancy know you’re coming?”
“Yes, I rang earlier to say I would. I didn’t speak to her for long.”
Anthony got the message, Nancy didn’t know yet.
At that moment, the phone rang and Jill went across to answer it. It was Ben. “Are you all right?” he asked.
Instinctively Jill lowered her voice and turned away from the room. “Yes, I’m fine, really.”
Anthony materialised at her side. “Is that Ben?” he asked. Jill nodded wordlessly, and he took the receiver from her hand.
“Ah Ben,” he said smoothly. “I’m glad you called. First of all I’d like to reassure you that Jill is fine, no cuts or bruises.” He spoke without pause, not allowing Ben the chance to speak. “And then about the work you’ve been doing for us, I’m afraid there isn’t any more, and as for what we still owe you, I think we may say that you’ve been paid in kind, don’t you? Don’t phone again, Ben. Goodbye.” Anthony cut the connection with his hand and gave the phone back to Jill. Colour had flooded through her face at his words, but it had drained away as quickly, leaving her white-faced beside him.
“I imagine that’s the last we shall hear of him,” Anthony said, and picking up his paper, went down to his study.
Jill replaced the receiver and then turned round to the children, who happily unaware of the atmosphere around them, were just finishing their breakfast.
“We’re going to see Granny today, and stay for a few days,” she told them. “You can choose some toys to take with us while I pack the case.” She called through to the kitchen, “Isabelle, please could you help the children pack some toys into a box?” She turned again to the children: “Run up and choose, Isabelle will be up in a minute, I just want a word with her first.” When they had disappeared upstairs, Jill said to Isabelle, “Mr Hammond is away all week at a conference, so I’ve decided to take the children to my mother’s for a few days. You’ll be here to look after the house while we’re away of course, and at Mrs Forrester’s when she wants you, but otherwise your time will be your own. You can do what you like. I’ll be back on Friday afternoon, so just be here then, OK?” Isabelle was delighted, and went happily upstairs to help the children get ready to leave.
When the car was packed and the children were ready, Jill called Anthony out of the study to say goodbye. He hugged each of the children tightly and told them to have a lovely time at Granny’s, and then he helped strap them into the car as he always did. When they were safely in and the doors were shut he turned to Jill.
“Drive carefully,” he said, and taking her hand, brushed her cheek with his lips before he stepped away from her.
Jill got into the driver’s seat and wound down the window. “I don’t know where you’ll be,” she said, “in case of emergency.”
“No,” said Anthony. “I’ll ring you tomorrow and tell you.”
Jill said, “All right,” and then as there seemed to be nothing more to say, she wound the window up again and started the engine.
“Daddy looks cross,” remarked Sylvia waving to him as they pulled away. “Is he cross, mummy?”
“No, darling,” Jill tried to sound reassuring, “I think he’s just very tired. Let’s hope he has a nice quiet time today.”
Jill had rung her mother again to say they’d be there for lunch, and when they arrived, Nancy was at the door as they stopped outside. She ran out to meet them, gathering her grandchildren into her arms and greeting them as excitedly as they did her. Over their heads she looked at Jill. One glance at her drawn, white face was enough to tell her something was badly wrong, and she bustled them inside into the warm, where the smell of Sunday lunch wafted from the kitchen.
“We’ll deal with the luggage after lunch,” she said. “I’ve put Granny’s toy box in the sitting room, you two. Why don’t you go and see what’s in it?”
Sylvia and Thomas needed no further bidding, they loved the box of toys that their grandmother kept at her house, and were soon pulling them all out and crying out in delight as they found their old favourites waiting for them.
Nancy poured Jill a glass of wine and picking up her own said, “Mummy and I will be in the kitchen, getting the lunch,” and led the way. Jill followed her, but the lunch was well under control, and they sat down at the table and looked at each other.
“Are you all right?” Nancy asked.
Jill managed a rueful smile: “Sort of.”
Nancy nodded. “Good. I’m not going to ask questions, but I’m here if you want to tell me.”
“Yes, I know. Thanks, Mum.”
They both sipped their wine and then Jill said, “I do want to talk, it’s just… well I suppose I don’t know where to begin.” She glanced through the door into the living room, “And I don’t want the children to know anything.”
“No, of course not. You can tell me later when they’re in bed.”
Jill shook her head. “I must tell you a bit now,” she said. “It’s burning me up inside.”
“Well, why don’t you give me brief outline now, and then we’ll talk properly tonight.” Nancy smiled encouragingly. Despite her apparent indifference, she was anxious to know what on earth had happened to cause her daughter to look so pale and unhappy.
Jill took a deep breath and said, “Anthony and I… well, I’m not sure we can go on as we are… things, well, things have happened.”
“Things,” echoed Nancy, “what things? He’s never having an affair, is he?”
“Anthony? No, no, he’s not having an affair… it’s me.” Jill had been wondering how to tell her mother what had happened, but it had slipped out as easily as that.
Nancy stared at her, unable to believe, for a moment, what she was hearing, and then said softly, “I see. You’re having an affair.” She put her wine glass carefully on the table and then said, “And does Anthony know?”
Jill nodded miserably. “Since last night.”
“And are you leaving him? Anthony I mean.”
“I don’t know, Mum,” Jill buried her face in her hands, “I just don’t know. I don’t want to.”
“Well, are you going on with it… this affair?”
“No. It’s over. I won’t see Ben again.”
“Does Anthony want you to stay?”
“I don’t know,” replied Jill flatly. “I don’t know anything.”
Nancy sighed heavily. “Oh Jill,” was all she said.
Sylvia appeared at the door. “Is it nearly lunchtime Granny? I’m hungry.”
“It’ll be ready in five minutes, darling,” Nancy said, getting to her feet. “Mummy and I were just having a glass of wine first. I’m just going to make the gravy, you can lay the table if you like, you know where the things are, don’t you? Where’s Thomas?”
And so the day passed, time crawling for Jill as they went for a walk to feed the geese, played with the toys in the Granny toy box, and at last had tea and bath and story and bed.
Finally ensconced in front of the fire with a large gin, Jill said, “Oh Mum, I don’t know what to do?”
Nancy gave her an encouraging smile and taking a sip from her own drink, said, “Suppose you tell me everything from the beginning, and then we can think about what you might do.”
So Jill told her about the students moving in, and meeting Ben at the barbecue. “He was very attractive, right from the first,” she said. “I can’t explain, it sounds too corny, but it was like electricity between us.” She went on to explain how he’d come to work for them, and of the chemistry between them and how she had succumbed. She told of the snatched times in the motel room, and finally about last night at the pub and afterwards in Ben’s room. “I don’t love him, Mum, even though he’s a lovely person. He is,” she insisted when she saw her mother purse her lips at this, “but I wasn’t in love with him.”
“Just in lust with him,” suggested Nancy.
Jill flinched. “If you say so. He was like a drug, I couldn’t get enough of him, and yet all the time… well, each time I swore it would be the last but then…” her voice trailed away. She looked across at her mother. “It was Anthony’s fault in a way.”
“No it wasn’t,” Nancy said gently but firmly. “It was yours.”
“But he’d been so busy and distant…” began Jill.
“Darling, when you got married, you promised you wouldn’t sleep with anyone but Anthony.”
“Oh for God’s sake, Mother,” snapped Jill, “it isn’t that simple…”
“Yes it is, to me anyway. I accept you may have been having difficulties,” Nancy said, “complications, but in the end, that is what it comes back to. You promised and you broke your promise, and now Anthony and you and possibly this Ben too, are hurt. The thing is, darling, that if you want to try and put things right and give your marriage another try, the first thing you have to do is be honest with yourself. You chose to have this affair. There was a point when you could have walked away from it, but you chose not to, and once it had started you were too involved to break it off.”
“Mum, I came to you for help,” Jill said angrily, “if you’re just going to moralise at me, I might as well go home.”
“I’m not moralising,” Nancy said, “at least that’s not the point of what I am saying. What I’m saying is, that if you want things to work out for you and Anthony and the children now, then you have to face up to what you’ve done. I’m not saying it was all your fault that things were going wrong, I’m sure it wasn’t, but you have to take the blame for having the affair.” She looked across at her daughter, longing to take her in her arms and cradle her and comfort her as she had as a child, but Jill was sitting stony-faced, stiff as a ramrod in her chair, and Nancy knew she would be rebuffed.
There was a long silence and then Nancy asked quietly, “If Anthony will have you, do you want to go back and try again?”
Jill nodded wordlessly.
Her mother smiled. “Good,” she said. “Then we must work towards that. Let’s sleep on it and see what we think we should do in the morning.”
Amazingly, Jill did sleep. Perhaps it was getting everything off her chest to her mother, but she felt more at peace now, less hopeless about the future, and more sure in her own mind as to what she wanted. As she drifted off to sleep, she was writing a letter to Anthony in her head, asking him if they could try again to make their marriage work.
Over the next few days she became more certain in her own mind that she wanted to save her marriage. When she thought about Ben, and he often entered her mind unbidden, the whole affair had a strange unreality about it, almost as if it had happened to someone else, but having faced up to it as her mother had said she must, she now felt deeply and desperately ashamed. She thought hard about what she could offer Anthony, about what he might want from her and what she wanted from him. If they were starting again, she felt the ground rules should be clear, though she was not at all sure she was the one who should be setting them.
Anthony had called on the Monday evening to tell her where he’d be staying in case of emergencies. In the course of their short conversation he told her that Madge Peters had been found dead in her chair on Sunday and that the funeral was on Friday, but apart from that and telling her that he’d see her on Friday when he got h
ome, they had no other conversation, and his voice was cold and hard. Jill decided that it would be best to write him a letter, and send it to his hotel, so that he could read it before they met on Friday evening.
“It’ll be easier to say everything I want to,” she explained to Nancy, “I won’t get side-tracked and I can chose my words carefully so I really say what I mean to say.”
“It’s up to you,” Nancy said, “but keep it simple, don’t make it too long and involved.”
“I’ll show it to you before I send it,” suggested Jill.
“No,” Nancy said, “I don’t want to see it. It must be entirely private between you and Anthony.”
So Jill wrote a simple letter, saying she was sorry for hurting him, and that she wanted to give their marriage another try, if he was willing to forgive her. “I know you’ll find it hard to believe,” she wrote, “but I never stopped loving you. I was stupid and selfish and allowed myself to get involved with Ben. I never loved him, but I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse. I shall be coming home in time for Madge’s funeral on Friday afternoon. Please can we talk this weekend, properly?” She didn’t quite know how to sign off, so she simply settled for her name.
When the letter was sent she tried to put it out of her mind, and enjoy the time with her mother and the children. She did some school work with Sylvia every day, which they both enjoyed, and they all fed the geese and went to the leisure centre to swim and generally behaved as if it were the school holidays. There was no Isabelle to make the children’s tea, or put them to bed, and Nancy left all that to Jill. She had always thought that part of Jill’s problem was having too much time on her hands, and if she wasn’t going to have a job, she could at least look after the two children more. Jill found that she did indeed enjoy looking after them herself, and wondered what Anthony would say if she suggested that they didn’t need Isabelle. By the end of the week, they were all ready to go home, and Nancy was ready to see them go. She’d enjoyed having them, but she did find the children a bit tiring, and she felt there was nothing more she could say to help Jill, from now on it was up to her.
The New Neighbours Page 38
