The Wife's Choice: An emotional and totally unputdownable family drama

by Emma Davies

  I don’t really know when my marriage first began to go wrong. How could I when I didn’t even see that it had? But now I wonder whether gratitude had just replaced love and I didn’t even notice. And if it wasn’t gratitude then it was guilt – for even daring to find fault with someone who had done so much for us. But now it would seem that my gratitude is no longer enough, nor my guilt, and so perhaps if I can cast both these things aside, Hugh and I can get back to where we need to be. And in order to do this, I have to lay some ghosts to rest.

  I’d suggested that Sam and I meet by the river again. I’m feeling hemmed in enough by my thoughts as it is, I don’t want to feel constrained by my surroundings too. Besides, the afternoon has brightened and out here in the open there’s less risk of us being overheard. I’d planned on getting here early so that I could sit quietly and let the flow of water soothe my nerves, but it seems as if Sam has had the same idea. I can already see him as I approach the bench, sitting in that slightly lopsided way of his which accommodates his bad leg. The sight of him ties my stomach into an even tighter knot.

  I join the path a little upriver so that I can walk towards him and not approach from behind. But even so he doesn’t see me until I’m almost upon him. I guess he’s lost in his own thoughts.

  ‘Hi, Sam.’

  His face lights up as he automatically moves his leg underneath him to stand.

  I put out a hand. ‘No, it’s okay, don’t get up. I’ll sit.’ And it’s as much because I know that he’ll kiss me if he stands as it is that I don’t want him to struggle. It makes me even more nervous when I see that he’s worked this out too, and I perch uncomfortably beside him on the edge of the bench.

  His look is candid and challenging, even though he smiles. ‘Afternoon, Alys,’ he says. ‘This is a surprise. I didn’t think I would hear from you again after the other night.’

  And I have absolutely no idea what to say. How to even begin this conversation. ‘I just wanted to say goodbye… Before you go.’

  ‘Okay…’ He frowns a little. ‘Except I think your husband did that for you. Right when he accused me of… well, I’m not sure exactly what, but fraternising at the very least.’

  ‘Sam, don’t. Please don’t make this any harder than it already is. I’m sorry, okay. Hugh was being a complete arse, and I still don’t understand why, but—’

  ‘Don’t you?’

  I stare at him. ‘No… Other than he’s always been the jealous type. There’s no excuse for his behaviour, but I’m not actually here to apologise for him.’

  ‘Good,’ replies Sam. ‘Because I think you’ll find that’s his responsibility.’

  His words catch at my heart. ‘Do you know that Nancy said something very similar to me almost the first time I met her?’

  ‘Did she? I’m not surprised. Nancy is a very good judge of character and we obviously share the same opinion of your husband.’

  I look away, staring out across the river. I should never have come.

  There’s a long sigh from beside me. ‘Alys, I’m sorry. Please, just ignore me. I’ve got far too good at being belligerent these last few years. I can see you’re really struggling with this and I’ve no desire to make it any harder for you. Neither am I particularly offended by what Hugh said the other night. I really didn’t expect anything better from him.’

  ‘You see, that’s just it,’ I groan. ‘Honestly, what is it with you two? And don’t give me some cock-and-bull story this time, I’ve already had that from Hugh.’

  ‘Why, what did he say?’ asks Sam, a cautious note creeping into his voice.

  ‘That he doesn’t like you because of what you did to me, which doesn’t really make any sense. I mean, it sort of does, but not really. It would make more sense if he was glad you behaved the way you did.’

  A flash of pain crosses Sam’s face for an instant, forcing his eyes shut. His jaw clenches.

  I put out a hand. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask, looking around, wondering if I might need to call on someone for assistance.

  There’s a brief nod. ‘Then if that’s what Hugh said, who am I to argue?’ he replies.

  ‘That doesn’t answer my question.’

  ‘No? Then I guess you’d better go back to your husband and ask him again.’ He holds my look for a second before dropping his head. ‘Sorry,’ he says for the second time.

  ‘For God’s sake, this is getting us nowhere, Sam. I didn’t come here today to talk about Hugh…’ I trail off, frustrated with myself. ‘Well in a way I did, but more my marriage than Hugh himself. I thought it might help you to understand if you knew how I felt.’

  I swallow. No, that doesn’t sound right either. I’m trying to get my thoughts in order but the more I try to think what to say to make it right, the more they skitter away from me. A sudden movement from my side pulls me back. Sam has pushed himself up from the bench so violently he’s almost overbalanced. He takes a couple of steps, leaning heavily on his stick, until his movements are under control.

  ‘Alys, I didn’t come here to listen to you talk about Hugh either… or your marriage. I’m leaving for home tomorrow and the last thing I want is to have you justify Hugh’s behaviour and then tell me that it’s okay because he loves you, and you love him. I know I messed up, Alys. I know I behaved badly and I’ve had enough years to think about the consequences, so please don’t make it any worse by—’

  ‘She’s yours, Sam…’ I blurt out, wanting to snatch back my words the moment they leave my mouth. This isn’t how I wanted to tell him. The news shouldn’t be borne on the back of Hugh’s name, like an afterthought, like a…

  For a moment I think Sam might be about to vomit. His hand is over his mouth, he’s hunching forward, the colour draining from his face.

  ‘Esme,’ I say. ‘She’s…’

  And he’s nodding, fumbling with his stick, stumbling to the bench where he sags like a half-empty bag of potatoes.

  ‘Esme…’ he repeats. ‘Esme… Oh my God… All these years. I couldn’t, but…’ He’s shaking his head, his body almost rocking with the motion. ‘I never knew…’ He looks at me then, eyes dark hollows against his pale skin, rimmed with red, a trace of spittle clinging to his open mouth. ‘I never knew…’

  I clutch at his hands. ‘Sam, I’m so sorry. So sorry… I couldn’t tell you. I wanted to. Dear God, I wanted to… When she was born, all I wanted was for you…’ I break off, the memory of those emotions assailing me. The anguish and pain of childbirth, the fear bringing an almost overwhelming grief for you. The desire to have you with me so strong that it was all I could do not to send Hugh away. I remember it now and the breath catches in my throat. It could have been yesterday, the feeling is so strong. My eyes fill with tears.

  Sam looks at me in horror. ‘What have I done to you?’ he says, raising a hand to lay it softly against my cheek. ‘Either way, a life sentence…’

  His fingers burn my skin, but I don’t want him to take his hand away; I’ve waited so long to feel his touch. And yet it’s wrong, I know that. Sam made his decision a long time ago and in doing so he made mine for me. I shake my head. No, I made my own decision. No one forced me to go with Hugh, to move away with him and start a new life. I went willingly and I have no one else to blame for that decision, least of all Sam.

  It’s killing me to move away, but I catch his fingers, gently pulling them so I can hold his hand in mine. I linger a second, two seconds, wanting more but still I release him. A tear spills down my cheek.

  Sam’s eyes search my face, his own a mixture of so many emotions. And then he suddenly smiles, sniffing. ‘I have a daughter… Esme. She’s beautiful.’

  ‘I know,’ I whisper.

  ‘Tell me,’ he urges. ‘What was she like?’

  ‘Hard work,’ I say, smiling wistfully. ‘Feisty, but always ready to laugh too. And bright-copper hair from the moment she was born. She’d get this look on her face sometimes and you knew there’d be no stopping her until she’d done what she set o
ut to. Walking, riding a bike, learning to read. Always the same expression on her face. And eating olives by the time she was four…’

  Hugh hated that of course, the fact that Esme would eat anything I put in front of her with gusto; always wanting to try new things. He used to say she was contrary, but I know he fought against loving that side of her because it was Sam all over and nothing he did could change it. Of course it’s why he tried so hard to stop her from training as a chef. And equally why I battled so hard to make it happen. Kidding ourselves that Sam had nothing to do with it.

  He grins at that. ‘And you still hate them?’

  ‘With a passion.’

  He turns slightly, leaning his weight against the back of the bench, his face turned upwards to the sun. His eyes close for second or two and then reopen, gazing out across the river.

  ‘I don’t know what to feel,’ he says. ‘I can’t take it all in. That she’s been here all this time and I never knew.’

  ‘I wanted to tell you. I tried, but…’

  ‘I’d made it impossible.’ He nods, knowing that his actions were to blame.

  ‘I didn’t even realise I was pregnant straight away. I put the tiredness and the nausea down to grief, I… But by the time I did know, you’d gone away. And I’d moved too.’

  I lick my lips, trying to draw some moisture back into my mouth. ‘When the divorce papers came through, I tried again, to see if I could find you through your solicitor but, of course, he wouldn’t tell me where you were. After that, well Esme was growing and Hugh forbade me. I had to stop looking, Sam. What could I do? Hugh had taken us in. He was my husband and now Esme’s father. I couldn’t do that to him, I just couldn’t.’

  ‘No, I gave you no choice, did I?’

  ‘You did what you thought was right, Sam. I understand that. It’s taken me a long time to realise it, but I know you did it with my best interests at heart. It hasn’t been easy for you either, I’m aware of that.’

  He doesn’t answer, but his expression lets me know that he’s thinking about the truth of my words. I take another deep breath, screwing up my courage, because there’s one thing I want to ask him, a question that has haunted me for years. And I almost can’t bear to ask it for fear of the answer. But I have to know, one way or the other.

  ‘Sam…? Would things have been different if you’d known about Esme? Would you still have sent me away?’

  His face looks agonised now and I realise that this is the first time he’s had to consider this question. ‘Alys, that’s not fair, I…’ But then he stops. ‘Yes,’ he says, decisively. ‘Yes, at the time I would have. If anything, that would have made me more determined. To make sure that you both could have a better life. That’s all I ever wanted.’

  I nod, a small smile touching my lips. However much it hurts, it was the best possible answer he could have given me, and I know without a shadow of a doubt how much Sam loved me. How much he wanted to set me free. But what now? Now that I’ve returned? We sit in silence for a few moments and I’m agonisingly aware of how close our hands are to touching. If I were to reach out with my fingers and curl them around his, what then? I push the thought away.

  ‘Who else knows about this?’ asks Sam, suddenly.

  ‘No one,’ I reply. ‘Well, Hugh, of course, but no one else.’

  Sam gives a bitter laugh. ‘Christ, I bet he’s loved this, hasn’t he? Properly got one over on me this time. Not content with simply having you.’ His eyes are wild, staring. ‘I can’t imagine him ever giving her up, not without a fight anyway. I don’t stand a chance, do I? I never did.’

  My eyes narrow in confusion and I sit up straight, facing him. ‘You have to tell me what happened, Sam. Please. I need to know.’

  But he shakes his head violently. ‘No, I can’t be the one who tells you, Alys. Hugh can hang himself, I want no part of it.’ His eyes are locked on mine and I can see he isn’t going to back down.

  I heave an exasperated sigh. ‘Sam, Hugh doesn’t even know I’m here. He forbade me to tell you about Esme, actually, but it isn’t his decision to make, not solely anyway. I couldn’t let you leave without telling you.’

  He pauses to wait for a young mother to walk past, pushing a pram. It seems to crystallise his thoughts. ‘So why are you telling me now? Because I’m just about to go and I can disappear and do the decent thing – stay out of your lives?’

  ‘No!’ My denial is quick. ‘I’m telling you because I think you have a right to know… And I didn’t want you to leave and risk never seeing you again… For Esme’s sake…’ I swallow. I’d give anything to add and mine…

  Sam nods, his face turned slightly away from me. He repositions himself on the bench, wincing slightly as he shifts his hip. ‘What do you want, Alys?’ he asks eventually. ‘Do you want me to be a part of Esme’s life?’

  I let out a breath. ‘That’s not my decision to make either,’ I say. ‘Esme doesn’t know about this yet, Sam. I wanted you to know first, but I will tell her, soon, I have to. She has just as much right to know. And when she does, then I guess how much you see one another, if at all, will be up to her. And you and your family. I haven’t forgotten how much this will impact on them either.’

  ‘But you won’t stop her?’

  ‘No, I won’t. But Hugh might. He’ll try, anyway.’

  Sam nods. ‘And where does this leave you?’ he asks gently.

  I brush lightly at a greenfly that has landed on my arm. ‘Well I would hope that Nancy and Theo will be understanding,’ I say, smiling bravely. ‘I think they will be from what I know of them and, although it might be a little… difficult to start with, maybe in time a different sort of relationship can be forged between you all. Different, but still good. I have high hopes of that happening. As for Hugh? He’ll just have to get used to it. And he will, he won’t have much choice. Life will go on.’

  ‘I hope so too, Alys. That’s a nice thought. But when I asked about you, that wasn’t really what I meant.’ His eyes are soft on mine.

  ‘No, I know…’ The last of my courage is failing, but I have to do the right thing. That’s what all this has always been about. ‘Sam, Hugh’s my husband. We’ve been together for twenty-three years. I can’t…’ My throat closes. I can’t even bring myself to finish the sentence.

  His fingers close over mine. ‘I understand,’ he says. ‘And thank you, Alys. For letting me know.’ Barely more than a whisper. His hand moves away, the warmth from his body gone. And there’s nothing else left to say.

  I get to my feet, managing one last smile before I turn away, tears already running down my cheeks as my heart breaks open.

  I can’t bring myself to say goodbye.

  18

  I take the last remaining pin from my mouth before standing back slightly to get a better look at the fit of Nancy’s jacket. I survey it critically, nodding in confirmation at what I see.

  ‘That ought to do it,’ I say. ‘How does that feel?’

  Nancy gives an experimental wriggle. ‘Plenty of room,’ she replies. ‘It feels great.’

  ‘Not too tight under the arms?’

  She raises them gently above her head, conscious of the pins down each side. ‘No… Perfect.’ She holds out a leg for inspection. ‘And the trousers feel great too.’

  ‘I think we’ve got the leg length right now. With the shoes you’re wearing they sit perfectly. Just got to bling it up now and we’re sorted, I think.’ I take another look. ‘Just stand up straight for me again.’

  She does as I ask, and I take a couple of steps backward, moving left to right to check the overall fit once more. It’s only when I check back to Nancy’s face that I realise she’s been watching me closely.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ she asks. ‘You’re not still worried about the other night, are you?’

  Nancy has this way of looking at you that instantly makes you want to divulge your deepest secrets. But I mustn’t, it really wouldn’t be fair on either Sam or Esme and I’m fee
ling guilty enough as it is. Sam left yesterday and I still haven’t found the right opportunity to speak to Esme and my parental skills, or rather the lack of them, are preying heavily on my mind. I should have told her long before now. I should have listened to my instinct and ignored Hugh’s instructions to leave things as they were. I do understand how he feels, but he’s an adult and that’s his problem to deal with; it shouldn’t have meant keeping the truth from Esme all these years.

  ‘I’ve never been so embarrassed, Nancy,’ I reply. ‘And you’re being very lovely about it, but Hugh ruined your evening, there’s no escaping that.’

  Nancy tuts. ‘He didn’t ruin it,’ she says. ‘He made it memorable certainly, but it was already that, and no one could spoil all the loveliness that had gone before. The opening was still everything I hoped it would be.’

  ‘I’m just grateful that Esme and Theo weren’t around to witness it. That would have been awful. Imagine how she would have felt? And Theo too.’

  Nancy steps out of her heels and sighs with relief at being back on level ground. ‘It wouldn’t have been an ideal way to find out about you and Sam but, in my experience, with stuff like that there really isn’t a right time. And if you wait for the perfect moment, it will never come. Sorry,’ she adds quickly, ‘that wasn’t a criticism.’

  ‘No, I know. But you’re right. I do need to tell Esme. I know Sam has gone back home now but the longer I leave it, the harder it’s going to get.’ And that’s not all, I think glumly, feeling a little overawed by the task ahead of me.

  Nancy holds her arms up so that I can ease the jacket from her shoulders and remove it. ‘Well, Sam will be at Saturday’s shindig so maybe sometime before then might be good, if you can manage it.’