Marriage and Other Games

by Veronica Henry

  ‘The one who’s in prison?’ asked Penny, realising that sounded rather stupid. ‘What’s happened to him?’

  ‘Not to him. To his secretary.’ She gripped the steering wheel, shutting her eyes tight. ‘She’s pregnant.’ Tears were streaming down her face. ‘With his baby . . .’

  Penny stared at her in disbelief, taking in what she had said.

  ‘Oh, you poor sweetheart,’ she said. ‘You poor angel. Come here.’

  She took Charlotte in her arms and squeezed her tight. And as Charlotte cried her heart out, Penny began to cry too, at the bloody injustice of life, and how some people got what they wanted, and how others were just shoved to one side. Was it destiny? Luck? Or was it about the choices you made? Could you go from being a loser to a winner?

  Eventually Charlotte started to laugh through her tears.

  ‘Look at us,’ she said. ‘If the police came along now, they’d definitely arrest us.’

  The two of them sat in the front seat, sniffing, wiping away their tears, looking at each other and laughing at the absurdity of it all. Charlotte shoved her tissue into the side pocket and started up the engine.

  ‘I’d better get you home, or your kids will be worried.’

  Penny sat back in her seat, drained. Her head was pounding with the revenge of cheap wine. She needed a dose of painkillers, a litre of water and something to eat. Then she was going to sit down and decide what to do with her life.

  By the time she got home she felt quite sober, literally and metaphorically. Love. Who needed it? The only thing that really mattered, Penny decided, was the love of your own children. She was going to turn over a new leaf, concentrate on Tom and Megan while she still had them. Not that she neglected them. On the contrary, it was usually them that made it clear they didn’t want to fraternise with her. But she was going to put her foot down. Make sure they did things together. Walks, movies, meals out, trips away . . .

  It was the only antidote. She wasn’t going to spend her time pining and prodding her sores. She was going to be the perfect mother. So that when her time came, if she hadn’t found her soul mate, her kids would chose her final destination with care, and would visit her because they wanted to, not because they felt they had to.

  Megan was in the kitchen, her long dark hair tumbling to her waist. She had on a tiny flowery dress with a little cardigan, and footless tights. Her toenails sparkled with newly applied bright pink polish.

  ‘Hey, Mum,’ she said.

  Tom looked up from the table.

  ‘Where’ve you been, dude?’ he asked. ‘We were getting worried.’

  ‘I had a bit of a prang,’ admitted Penny. She went to the sink to get a glass of water.

  ‘No shit,’ said Tom. ‘Is it a write-off?’

  Penny shrugged. She didn’t want to think about it. It was going to be a pain whatever - endless phone calls to the insurance company, arguments over whether she was entitled to a replacement vehicle. And a paltry cheque if it was a write-off, which would mean she couldn’t afford a new car.

  Bollocks to it, she thought. She’d get a loan, do one of those low-interest deals. Get something a bit sexy. Maybe a soft-top. She earned a decent salary. Why didn’t she ever treat herself? She always put herself last, put herself down.

  Maybe if she lived like the person she wanted to be . . .

  ‘We made macaroni cheese,’ announced Megan. ‘But it looks like puke.’

  She proffered a bowl full of yellow, congealed pasta.

  ‘Yep,’ grinned Penny. ‘It sure does. Come on. Let’s go down to the pub.’

  Tom and Megan gawped at her.

  ‘What’s got into you?’ asked Megan.

  ‘It’s a school night,’ said Tom.

  ‘What the hell?’ replied Penny, grinning. ‘Let’s have some fun while we still can.’

  The driver had been frustratingly slow, the journey interminable because he had steadfastly refused to break the speed limit on the motorway. He didn’t want to lose his job. Which was, she supposed, fair enough, but nevertheless Catkin had found her foot pressing an imaginary accelerator all the way, as if she could make the car go faster.

  It had taken her big break to make her realise what it was she really wanted. Every time she had thought of her exciting news, something had prevented her from really relishing the fact. And when Sebastian had pulled his crazy prank, she realised what it was. Hearing his voice, she suddenly knew how much she had missed him. And how much she wanted to share her triumph with him. Success was bloody meaningless without someone you love to share it with.

  For the past few weeks, she had felt like half a person. Although she had tried to shut him out of her mind, he was always there, in the background. When she heard something funny, she wanted to tell him. When someone in the studio drove her nuts, she wanted to offload it onto him. And her future, her dazzling future, was nothing without him.

  Now, at last, they were turning into the drive of Withybrook Hall. The sun was just going down, slipping behind the house and bathing it in a red-gold-glow. And as they pulled up to the front, Sebastian came out of the door, standing at the top of the steps.

  He’d obviously been waiting, looking out for her.

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  Sebastian. Her Sebastian.

  She threw the car door open and jumped out, running up the steps to greet him.

  ‘Hey, Mrs Turner,’ he smiled, and she fell into his arms.

  Nineteen

  Trying to resuscitate a moribund marriage is incredibly hard work, as Fitch was finding out. He was doing his utmost to smooth Hayley’s path back into family life. He had avoided recriminations. He made sure she didn’t have to do too much around the house. He cooked wonderful food. But it didn’t seem to make any difference. She was miserable. She seemed permanently on the verge of tears. And listless.

  He supposed it was the shock. After all, being lamped by a bloke as big as Kirk would knock the stuffing out of most people. But even a week after her arrival back home, when her eye had gone down and she was able to go out in public, she showed no sign of recovery. She sank back into her usual diet of daytime television, soaps and lurid gossip magazines. She spent hours on her phone texting - God knows who. Fitch supposed he could have flicked through her messages but he didn’t have the energy to deal with what he might find.

  He knew he was pussyfooting round her. He didn’t want to antagonise her because of the girls. They were so happy that she was back, and that they were living at the cottage again.

  ‘Granny’s house smells,’ Jade confided to him. ‘And her food is horrid. And Grandad’s grumpy.’

  ‘And it’s cold,’ added Amber. ‘Freezing.’

  ‘It’s OK. You won’t have to go back there,’ promised Fitch.

  In the end, he decided he wasn’t going to take any more. The tension was intolerable.

  ‘Hayley, if you’re really depressed, maybe we should think about getting you some medication. It’s just not fair. On you, me, or the girls.’

  She looked up at him. Her eyes seemed dead. Her skin was pasty. Gone was the vitality of the girl he had married, the girl with the brightest eyes he’d ever seen, the girl with a sense of mischief, a sense of self. He wondered if she’d been taking drugs while she was with Kirk, and if she was suffering some sort of withdrawal. It could explain a lot.

  She looked as if she was about to say something. Maybe she was going to reveal what was troubling her. If only she would confide in him. He would do anything to help her and get their marriage back on track.

  ‘I suppose I’m just . . . ashamed,’ she said. ‘Of what I’ve done. Of what I could have lost.’

  He came to sit down beside her.

  ‘Moping about it isn’t going to help,’ he said. ‘If you carry on like this, you will lose us. Look,’ he went on, putting a fatherly hand on her arm, ‘go and see Penny Silver. Tell her how you’re feeling. There might be something she can do. And she won’t judge you. She’s had a
pretty tough time of it herself.’

  To his surprise, Hayley did as he suggested. Penny was incredibly understanding. She’d talked everything through with Hayley, right back before she’d even met Fitch. The two of them agreed that perhaps what Hayley needed was some antidepressants. Not long term, just while she sorted her head out. Something to help her see over the parapet.

  ‘I know what it’s like, when you can’t see the wood for the trees,’ Penny told her. ‘You’d have to be a pretty amazing person to pull yourself together without any help.’

  From that day on Hayley seemed to turn a corner. She got back her zest for life. Her skin began to glow and her eyes began to sparkle. She made an effort with her clothes. And she communicated with the girls. She wasn’t quite running round in a pinny making cup cakes, but she made an effort. She started taking them riding, even talked about getting them a pony they could keep at her parents.

  Encouraged by her blooming, Fitch suggested a party. Hayley had always been such a sociable creature. If they started to entertain, perhaps she would start to come out of her shell again.

  ‘Not a dinner party,’ he assured her. ‘Just a few mates round for supper. We can do a big chilli or something. Get some beers in.’

  To his surprise, she was enthusiastic, and threw herself into the preparations. They only asked a dozen people: a few of their old mates from the pub, Penny and Charlotte, Sebastian and Catkin. She seemed really excited about Catkin coming - a proper celebrity.

  The night of the party, Hayley came downstairs looking stunning, in a red sweater and jeans, her hair done in glossy curls that fell around her face. Fitch’s heart stopped as he looked at her. He thought maybe, just maybe, she was back. The girl he had fallen in love with. But he had to be cautious. She was still very fragile, given to bouts of weeping at the drop of a hat. And dark moods, when she withdrew, although she had got better and didn’t do it in front of Jade and Amber any more.

  His gamble paid off. The party was a huge success. Hayley and Catkin, in particular, hit it off, putting on music and getting everyone to dance once the food had been devoured. The only slight cloud was that Charlotte had seemed a little withdrawn and had left early, but she explained that she had been working hard and wasn’t feeling a hundred per cent.

  The hard core stayed until half past two. When everyone had gone, Fitch and Hayley stood in the living room, surrounded by the detritus of a good party - empty glasses and bottles, ashtrays, CDs all over the coffee table.

  ‘Let’s leave it till the morning,’ said Fitch.

  ‘Good idea,’ she replied, looking at him.

  He took a step closer. She smiled.

  They hadn’t made love in all the time she’d been back. He still didn’t feel able to, because that was the ultimate moment of forgiveness, and he couldn’t pretend that it hadn’t been a hard journey. Sometimes he felt that he was doing all the giving and she was just taking.

  But tonight, all his misgivings melted away. She looked as she had that first day he had met her, her dark eyes full of mischief and promise, her mouth so inviting. He couldn’t resist.

  Within an instant, they were on each other. Within seconds, their clothes were discarded. They made love with an intensity that purged them of everything that had happened over the past few months.

  And as Hayley came, she wept. He kissed her tears away.

  ‘Hey. Shush,’ he whispered. ‘It’s supposed to be nice. You’re not supposed to cry.’

  The next morning Fitch got up early, despite a bit of a hangover, and cleared up the party mess. He put the bottles out for recycling, opened the windows to disperse the smell of smoke, and loaded the dishwasher. It was a bright and sunny morning that matched his mood. When Jade and Amber came down, he made them bacon sandwiches. He settled them at the kitchen table, then made a sandwich and a cup of tea for Hayley.

  ‘Go and get your things ready when you’ve finished. I’m just going to take this upstairs for your mum,’ he told the girls.

  The two of them nodded, munching happily.

  Fitch ran up the stairs, careful not to spill the tea. He looked at the clock - fifteen minutes before he was supposed to take the girls swimming in Comberton. They were meeting some friends. He grinned to himself. There was a lot a man could do in fifteen minutes.

  As soon as he walked into the bedroom, he could tell something wasn’t right. Hayley was sitting on the bed, fully dressed and made up, staring dully into space.

  ‘Are you coming to the pool?’ he asked hopefully. ‘We could go for fish and chips afterwards?’

  She sighed in reply. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ said Fitch. ‘I’ll be back by two. We could—’

  ‘I’ve tried and tried,’ she interrupted him. ‘But I can’t get him out of my head.’

  Fitch put the cup and the plate down.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He wants me back.’

  Four deadly words.

  ‘Kirk.’ Fitch’s voice was flat. It was a statement, not a question.

  She nodded. ‘He’s sending a limo for me. It should be here any minute. ’

  ‘Kirk, the guy that gave you a black eye and a split lip and threatened to kill you?’

  ‘He didn’t mean it. He lost it because I thought he was unfaithful when he wasn’t. He didn’t know what he was doing. He’s promised to make it up to me.’

  Fitch clenched his fists. Was she insane?

  He looked out of the window where a long, low white limousine was pulling up outside the front door.

  ‘You get into that limo,’ he said, ‘and we’re finished. You don’t get a second chance.’

  She looked at him sadly.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated, and walked out of the door.

  Fitch stood for a moment in the bedroom, unable to believe what he had just heard. Had he dreamed last night? The fun they’d had? The incredible sex they had had? Did that count for nothing in Hayley’s world? Or had that been the catalyst for her decision? Had it made her realise that this was going to be as good as it got with Fitch, and it wasn’t good enough?

  He ran down the stairs, and out of the front door.

  ‘Hayley . . .’

  She was about to get into the back. He could smell the leather of the seats, hear the soft music playing, see the bottle of champagne that the creep had sent down for her. She was about to slip into another world, the world that she believed was so exciting and glamorous, but which he knew was just a façade. A façade that could fade away at any moment.

  ‘Please,’ he begged. ‘Don’t go. Surely we can work things out? Please. Not for me. But for Jade and Amber.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she replied. ‘I just can’t do it any more. I can’t pretend.’

  ‘What do I tell the girls?’

  ‘Tell the girls . . . that they’re lucky to have you. Because they are.’ She was in the back seat now, looking up at him. He could see her eyes were brimming with tears. He was surprised. It was the nearest she’d come to showing any real emotion.

  ‘You probably hate me, Fitch. But I hate myself even more. For being weak. For not being able to resist. But that’s just the way I am. And you’re better off without me.’

  She reached out and shut the door. He could no longer see her through the blacked-out windows. He watched in disbelief as the limousine glided off, insinuating its way up the street, totally out of place. He wondered what the village would make of that. It certainly made a change from the usual tractors and beaten-up hatchbacks.

  He turned back to go into the house. Jade and Amber came bounding out of the kitchen, clutching their swimming bags, and sat down in the hall to put on their shoes.

  ‘Are we ready to go?’

  ‘Is Mummy coming with us?’

  Two little faces looked up at him expectantly.

  ‘Um,’ said Fitch. ‘Mummy’s had to pop out. But I thought we could go out for fish and chips afterwards.’

  The two gir
ls high-fived each other in triumph.

  It was so easy to please them, Fitch thought with a heavy heart. It was just a pity it wasn’t so easy to please their mother.

  He wasn’t sure how he was going to get through the weekend, but he did. He didn’t have the bottle to sit down and tell the girls where Hayley had gone, or why. He couldn’t begin to make sense of it all himself, let alone come up with a rational explanation for a five- and seven-year-old. Why bring their little worlds crashing down? So he made sure the three of them had as much fun as they could, because deep down he was hoping that Hayley wouldn’t have such a fantastic time with Kirk as she seemed to think she would, and that she would come back with her tail between her legs and ask to start again. A leopard, after all, doesn’t change its spots. Kirk was a bona fide thug and the sooner Hayley realised that the better. He would just have to sit it out.