The Affair

by Hilary Boyd

  ‘Bloody hell, Con, you made hard work of that,’ Devan said, when they finally shut the door on Jared. ‘You were almost rude to the poor guy.’

  Connie, busy scrubbing the surface around the cooker, did not look up as she said, ‘Sorry. Not feeling my best.’

  But Devan was not to be brushed off so easily. He came over to her, carrying a handful of plates, which he placed on the side. ‘I get the feeling you really don’t like him.’

  She didn’t know what to say, but he was staring at her and she had to stop what she was doing and meet his gaze. He must see it in my eyes, she thought, miserably. She said, ‘I don’t really know him.’

  Devan was frowning. ‘It’s so not like you, being sulky with a guest.’ He was waiting for some sort of explanation, but she had none that was acceptable. ‘And he’s such a nice man. What have you got against him?’

  She shrugged, throwing the cloth into the sink. All evening she’d held on, tried to contain her fury, the dread that Jared might be about to blow her life wide open – her anxiety overlaid by burning guilt. What am I doing to Devan? Sobs burst through her body and she began to shake. Devan’s arms were instantly around her.

  ‘Hey, hey, it’s OK …’

  She leaned against him, feeling his warmth, his love, and the tears only flowed more strongly. He pulled away slightly and was looking down at her. ‘What on earth is it, Connie? What’s going on?’

  She raised her face to his. Tell him, a voice in her head whispered. Tell him now. Get this over with. But she simply wasn’t brave enough.

  ‘Don’t know,’ she mumbled, dropping her head to his chest again. ‘I love you,’ she added, squeezing him harder.

  ‘I love you too,’ Devan replied, although his tone was puzzled.

  ‘Let’s leave all this till the morning,’ she said. ‘I’m so tired.’

  Her husband obviously realized that that was all the clarification he was going to get tonight, and nodded his agreement, turning her gently around and heading her towards the stairs and their bed.

  23

  ‘Hello, sweetheart.’ Connie was so pleased to hear her daughter’s voice. Caitlin and family had been away for three weeks in Los Angeles, where Ash was in negotiations for a miniseries with an LA-based streaming service. Connie had received lots of WhatsApp photos of Bash in the pool, on the beach with Mickey Mouse, eating ice cream in the sunshine, but she was glad they were back home now.

  It was about ten days since Jared had been to supper. Since then, Connie had seen him once in the village shop, and rushed past him on a walk with Riley in the woods. Each time she’d barely acknowledged his presence. But she looked for him everywhere, twitched every time she left the house. And the vibrations of even these fleeting encounters haunted her for hours afterwards, reminding her of the speeding, out-of-control train that was about to derail her life. Their plans for getting away had fizzled out as Devan became more involved in the hospice project, so even that chance of a brief let-up in the pressure on her had been snatched away.

  Devan met up with Jared in the pub at the weekend, but she declined to join them – her husband still bewildered by how she had taken against his new friend. She stubbornly refused to comment.

  After a long catch-up, Connie said to her daughter, ‘Now, Christmas.’

  Caitlin chuckled. It was a fraught subject in their family. Connie loved Christmas and delighted in every aspect of the festivities. Caitlin was with her father in thinking it was a waste of time and money – although her attitude had softened since Bash was born. Ash’s family, who were Hindu, always had a secular celebration in Manchester, but this year it was Connie and Devan’s turn to host.

  ‘Well,’ her daughter said, ‘I’ve talked to Ash, and we thought we could do the honours this year.’

  ‘Really?’ Connie was secretly thrilled. She certainly didn’t have the headspace right now. Any excuse to leave the village and Jared’s clutches would be welcome, too. It would be just like Devan to ask the bloody man for Christmas ‘because he’s all on his own’.

  ‘We’ve never done it, Mum. It’s definitely our turn,’ Caitlin was saying. ‘I’m quite excited. You and Dad can stay a couple of nights. We’ll make a thing of it.’

  ‘Ha! Do I detect an uncharacteristic enthusiasm?’ Connie teased. ‘We’ll bring the turkey. They do delicious free-range ones at Sweeney’s.’

  ‘Great. I’m actually looking forward to staying put, for once. And you can help cook the bird – I haven’t the first clue.’

  Connie hung up in a better mood than she’d been in for a while. Her vision, since Jared had moved into the village, had become so restricted, she’d barely had another thought in her head. But Caitlin’s call reminded her that she had so many good things in her life. She had a sudden burst of hope. Jared would surely give up and leave, now she wasn’t giving their connection any oxygen. Or he wouldn’t. And maybe she could gradually come to terms with that. Get used to him being around and ignore the threat that he might let the cat out of the bag. What had happened between them had been so unrelated to any sort of reality. Maybe, she thought, it can stay in its own secret bubble for ever.

  She noticed she’d missed a WhatsApp from Neil. Coffee at Angie’s? 12? x

  See you there. DON’T ask Jed xxx she messaged back, remembering Neil’s suggestion at the bonfire party that they all get together to bond over Fiona Raven.

  ??? Wasn’t going to x Neil wrote.

  They were ensconced at their favourite table by the glass doors leading to the wide green expanse of the recreation ground, Angie’s delicious coffee hot and fragrant in their cups. There was a noisy table of hikers in the corner, but no one else. Connie always wondered how the place stayed open.

  Neil looked preoccupied, Connie thought, as she sipped the unfamiliar Ethiopian/Brazilian blend.

  ‘Why didn’t you want Jed to join us?’ he asked, after they’d caught up. He was looking at her closely and she began to squirm.

  ‘Preferred just us,’ she said.

  He nodded but raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘Right. It’s just …’ he hesitated, looking uneasy ‘… there’s something you should know, Con. Jed and Brooks got tanked on margaritas the other night. I was in Cardiff on a shoot, and Jed asked himself over.’

  Connie stifled a groan, keeping her face as neutral as she was able.

  Neil took a deep breath. She noticed the small frown of concern. ‘Thing is, darlin’, when Jed was half-cut, Brooks said he got all confidential … sort of implied he’d known you in the past, sort of implied it was a little bit more than just “knowing”.’

  The blood drained from Connie’s cheeks. The moment she had been dreading for what seemed like a lifetime had arrived. There was no way on this earth she could dissimulate. Not with Neil. ‘What exactly did he say?’

  Neil’s eyes were wide with amazement. ‘Seriously, Connie?’

  ‘Tell me.’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s all a bit unclear, because Brooks was pretty wasted too. But Jed apparently said something about an Italian tour and a hotel room in Warsaw? And …’ Neil seemed to wince ‘… he also implied he was really into you.’

  Connie closed her eyes.

  ‘So it’s true,’ she heard Neil say.

  She nodded.

  ‘Christ, Con. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?’

  She opened her eyes, letting out a long sigh. ‘Don’t know. Lots of reasons. It didn’t seem real …’

  The hikers were scraping their chairs back, calling goodbye and thanks to Angie, drifting in clumps out of the main door, leaving a trail of cold air. Connie told Neil everything. As she did so, she saw incredulity burgeoning in his eyes.

  ‘Wow,’ he said softly, when she’d finished relating a potted version of the last few months. ‘I told Brooks Jed must be crazy.’

  Connie felt, in the telling of her secret to Neil, that she’d been shamefully exposed, as if someone had suddenly stripped her naked in public. Her friend was staring at h
er across the small café table, but all she could do was shake, tears not far from spilling down her cheeks. She must have looked pale because Neil, without a word, got up and went over to the counter.

  ‘Can I have a glass of water, please, Angie?’

  Angie glanced across to Connie. ‘Everything all right?’

  Neil said, ‘Not really.’

  ‘Connie’s not ill, is she?’

  ‘No.’ He didn’t elucidate, and his expression must have warned her off asking more questions because she went quickly to get the water, which he set down in front of Connie. She grabbed it and drank the lot in a few gulps.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ he asked, after a silence.

  She shrugged. Although she was beginning to realize there was only one option. ‘Tell Devan, I suppose.’

  Neil sucked in his breath. ‘God … poor man.’

  ‘Don’t.’ She shook her head miserably. ‘I loathe the sight of Jared now – or Jed, as he likes to call himself. But when we first met, it was this crazy attraction, a really insane lust I couldn’t resist … or didn’t try to. I still know virtually nothing about him. He’d arrive unannounced, we’d have astonishing sex – at my age, Neil – then he’d leave till the next time.’ She paused. ‘All of which now just seems creepy and horrible.’ She gazed, bewildered, at her friend. ‘Has anything like that ever happened to you?’

  Neil nodded. ‘Sort of. An older guy who came and went in my life for a while when I was in my teens. It wasn’t great sex, though, he was just using me. I think I was flattered because he was famous.’

  ‘Who was that?’

  He waved dismissively in the air. ‘Another time.’ Reaching over to lay a comforting hand over hers, he said, ‘You know, it could very well be curtains for your marriage if you tell him, Con. I can’t see Devan taking too kindly to being cuckolded by the man he’s currently having a budding bromance with.’

  It was true: Devan was obviously loving his new friendship with Jared.

  ‘Brooks won’t tell a soul, I’ll make sure of that. He wouldn’t do that to you. So, it’s only us three who know. And Jed, of course … so far, that is. The guy’s obviously a loose cannon.’

  ‘And Lynne.’ It was already five people, she realized, with a shock. Four of whom could be trusted. But her secret seemed to have reached a tipping point. ‘We can’t be sure who else he might blab to.’

  Neil nodded slowly. ‘It would be so much worse if Devan found out from anyone but you.’

  Connie gave a harsh laugh. ‘I can’t think how this awful situation could be even the slightest bit worse. But I take your point.’

  ‘You never know, he might recall he was being a selfish pillock at the time.’ But her friend was neither convinced nor convincing. And, anyway, it was a poor defence.

  ‘Oh, Neil, how do I tell him?’

  He winced but didn’t reply.

  ‘What will he do?’ Now that she’d accepted she would have to confess, she was completely failing to imagine the scenario. Her mind was numb. All she could see was her husband’s dear face in front of her …

  ‘I’ll talk to Jed, if you like,’ Neil said.

  Connie gave him a wan smile. ‘Thanks, but it won’t do any good. You’ll just get the same old, same old – he’s not hurting me, he’s not causing trouble, he just wants to be near me …’

  He frowned. ‘Telling Devan … It’s a fucking huge thing, Con.’

  She nodded grimly. ‘I don’t think I have a choice. Jared, as you say, is a loose cannon. His whole life seems to be one big delusion. Take the Raven thing. Did he really work with her? He put up a credible story, but it seems like a stunning coincidence if he did.’

  Neil thought for a moment. ‘I saw him talking to Fiona … but I have no idea what he was saying.’ He frowned. ‘You think it was just part of the stalking?’

  ‘Don’t know … maybe. It would fit.’

  Connie drove home, her stomach in knots. What she faced was so distressing – the disintegration of her whole life – that her mind skittered away from it. Just one more normal day with Devan, she begged silently. And maybe there’d be some miracle, Jared, suddenly out of their lives for ever. But she knew she was fooling herself.

  By the time she parked the car by the house, she had determined to have the rest of the day with her husband. I’ll do a lovely supper, she told herself, sleep one more night with him. Tomorrow, she would tell him. She felt like a condemned woman facing the gallows in the morning.

  ‘There you are.’ Devan was warming a can of chicken soup on the stove. ‘Have you had lunch?’

  Connie nodded, although she and Neil had eaten nothing. She knew she couldn’t swallow even one mouthful of soup.

  ‘You OK? You look as if you’ve been crying,’ Devan put down the wooden spoon and came over to her, his face full of concern.

  ‘Do I?’ she said, with false brightness. ‘It’s just the wind. Bloody Arctic out there.’

  Devan put his arms around her. ‘You’re freezing,’ he said, rubbing his nose to her cheek. ‘Sit. I’ll make you a cup of tea.’

  She sat down gratefully. Accepting the tea her husband made, she tried not to think that this might be the last cup he ever made her. The last time she would sit with him like this, while he crunched his toast and sipped his soup, the room warm and still in the early-afternoon light.

  ‘I thought I’d do steak and Caesar salad tonight,’ she said, knowing it was one of Devan’s favourite meals.

  But he pulled a face. ‘That would have been great. But I’m meeting Jed. They’re showing Blade Runner, the Director’s Cut, at the film club and he got tickets. I know you hated it, so I told him not to get one for you.’

  Connie was engulfed by a wave of despair. ‘Don’t go, Devan. Please … don’t go out this evening.’

  Her husband looked taken aback. ‘I don’t understand. Why ever not?’

  She quickly blinked tears away.

  ‘Is this about Jed again? I wish you’d tell me why you have such a thing about him.’

  ‘I just felt like a cosy evening with you, that’s all,’ she said tiredly, aware of her promise to herself that she would tell Devan. I should do it right now, she told herself, her gut seizing with dread. Get it over with. But she was utterly unable to form the words.

  Devan was peering at her. ‘Am I missing something, Connie? You seem really upset. We can have steak and salad tomorrow, can’t we?’

  She found a smile from somewhere. ‘Yeah, of course. Sorry. Don’t know what’s the matter with me at the moment.’

  Still staring at her, Devan said, ‘I can cancel Jed if you want me to.’

  ‘No, no. I was just being silly. I know you love the film. It’ll be good to see it on the big screen again.’

  ‘If the projection works,’ he said. ‘Remember the last one we saw, when the whole thing was out of sync?’

  She laughed. ‘I think that was just the equipment objecting to having to run such an irritating film.’

  Jared knocked on the door at six that evening. Devan was still in the shower, so Connie was forced to let him in.

  ‘Hey,’ he said softly, reaching to kiss her cheek.

  But she stepped away, walked off into the kitchen. He followed.

  She listened out for her husband and, hearing nothing, moved closer to Jared, lowering her voice. ‘I saw Neil today. He says you told Brooks about us.’

  He frowned. ‘Of course I didn’t. I’d never do that.’

  She sighed wearily. ‘Well, how did he know about the Italian tour and Warsaw, then?’

  Jared looked bewildered and gave a defensive shrug. Connie watched his childishly handsome face, saw him sweeping back his over-long hair, recognized the navy cotton shirt he was wearing as the one he’d had on in Inverness … and felt no sexual attraction for him whatsoever. She wondered that she ever had. He seemed weak, lost, as he stood there gazing at her with the needy turquoise eyes she’d found so compelling in the past: the cuckoo in
the nest. Seeing him now, she felt only revulsion.

  ‘I’m telling Devan in the morning,’ she said, very quietly.

  He looked instantly alarmed. ‘Don’t, Connie. Please don’t. There’s really no need to do that. Things are OK, aren’t they? We’re OK. I was so drunk the other night. It won’t happen again, I promise. Please …’

  Listening to him, Connie realized with a shock that for Jared this was about much more than her. He had bought into a community, friendships, a lifestyle – maybe for the first time. She was what had propelled him to this village. But now it was clear that he desperately didn’t want the boat rocked. He wanted everything to stay exactly as it was.

  She turned away. ‘Devan will be down in a minute,’ she said, as she walked out of the room. In the hall, she didn’t know where to go. She needed to get away from them both, but Jared might follow her into the sitting room and Devan was in the bedroom … It was raining and bitter outside. She hesitated, then pulled on her heavy parka, grabbed her keys from the bowl on the side. She would drive.

  24

  Connie drove in the direction of the sea. It was about forty minutes, but she was unaware of the journey, only the destination. She wanted to stand on the edge of the land and look out into the blackness, the emptiness, feel the wind tear at her and the rain lash her cheeks, hear the thunder of surf on shingle and her own voice screaming to the blackened sky. She needed something violent and primeval to erase the image of Jared, who sat like an evil spirit, snug in her bright, cosy kitchen, in her home … with her husband … in the very heart of her marriage. It made her rigid with nausea.

  It had stopped raining by the time she’d woven round the one-way system and parked on the seafront. No one was out in this weather. The pier to the west, its two iconic towers lit up, like a disco, with red, green and yellow neon, flashed out over the dark sea. She leaned against the guard rail and allowed the biting wind to whip off the hood of her parka, her hands numb on the cold wet metal, and closed her eyes.