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

by Emma Davies

  I’ve never been to an event like this before, and to say I feel out of my depth doesn’t even come close to describing my emotions. What I want to do is run. There is confidence oozing out of every pore of the women around me and perversely it’s having the opposite effect on me. If I could shrink and make myself small and unobtrusive, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’ve attended one or two residential training courses over the years with Harringtons and on every single occasion had to steel myself to even turn up. Enjoyment was not something I even considered. They were a trial to be got through, nothing more, and the excitement I can see on the faces around me would seem to belong to a different breed of women entirely.

  I’ve never found the lure of the limelight appealing, never craved the attention that success might bring. And, from what I know of Nancy, that’s not what motivates her either. And yet she’s up there, on the podium, about to give a speech to the hundred or so women who are here. And I’m finding it hard just being a part of the audience as Nancy’s guest. Maybe that’s why conservation appeals to me – a line of work that entails being closeted away with relics for hours on end. It’s quiet and studious and, if you do your job well, the end result is practically invisible.

  The conference is being held in a large hotel just outside the city centre. With its red-bricked exterior, mullioned windows, pointed gables and flanks of tall chimneys, it looks like something out of a fairy tale. The room we’re sitting in is large and airy with a high ceiling and gilded cornices and panelling. I’ve spent the last ten minutes looking at the chandeliers alone.

  This motivational session has been scheduled just before lunch on the first day, designed to give a rallying cry to all the delegates who are here. From this they’ll go on to a networking buffet lunch before the weekend sessions begin in earnest. It’s absolutely terrifying. And the pressure on Nancy to deliver must be enormous.

  Esme and Theo are seated beside me and, as I look around the rest of the audience, I spot two figures making their way along the edge of the seats. It’s Sam’s gait I notice first, as distinctive as a fingerprint. He’s doing what he always does, being unobtrusive, slipping in at the last minute when everyone’s attention is elsewhere and then sitting on the fringes. And I’m reminded yet again who made him so.

  As I watch, I realise that the figure following behind is not merely another latecomer, but someone who has clearly arrived with Sam. She’s taller than he is and extraordinarily pretty and slender, with tumbling brown hair halfway down her back. Beside me, Esme gives my hand a quick squeeze. Has she noticed my involuntary intake of breath?

  ‘Okay, Mum?’ she whispers.

  I nod, distracted. I’ve just spotted Sam’s hand on the woman’s arm. A solicitous touch, but a familiar one, and, as I watch, she says something to him. His head dips towards hers. They’re inches apart. And then she laughs, glossy hair tumbling over one shoulder. He looks at her as she pulls away, not a glance, but something longer, deeper and more meaningful. I can’t bear to watch any more and I turn back to Esme, squeezing her hand in reply. I know that seeing Sam again is hard on her too, but I hadn’t banked on how it would make me feel. Why didn’t I realise that Sam would likely have a new partner too? I’m not sure how I’m ever going to get through any of this.

  I fix my eyes straight ahead to where Nancy is giving her notes one final read through before she has to start speaking. She looks amazing. The tuxedo fits her like a glove. The fabric is soft enough to accentuate her curves, and with her white hair and diminutive figure, it sparkles gently under the lights. If she had a wand in her hand I wouldn’t think it odd.

  As I check the time the light focused on the podium brightens and an expectant excitement ripples through the audience. Nancy takes a step forward, the spotlighting catching the sequins and crystals of her jacket, magnifying them ten-fold. She looks like a shining star. Oh, Nancy, that’s clever…

  An awed hush falls.

  ‘Hello,’ she says simply. ‘I’m Nancy. And I’d like to tell you the story of my life.’

  Ten minutes later she has every person in the room under her spell.

  It isn’t that what she’s saying is remarkably different from what many people have said before. It’s a story of the highs and lows of starting up a business, of running that business and, when it becomes successful, the demands that places upon you. Except that Nancy’s delivery is so honest, so self-deprecating and shot through with her bubbly humour that she transforms an ordinary story into something that speaks to every person’s life in the room. Where Nancy has been, we’ve been too. What she’s felt, so have we, and it unites the audience. Heads are nodding all around me. Faces are smiling in recognition of what she’s saying.

  But then Nancy stops speaking and stands quietly for a moment. The seconds roll past and still she’s silent. I’m beginning to wonder if something’s wrong, if perhaps she’s feeling unwell, when she suddenly steps forward again, coming out from behind the podium to stand in front of it, where she adopts a far more relaxed pose.

  ‘Now I’ve told you all about me and what I do, does anyone want to know the truth?’ she asks, lifting up her head and tilting it as if she’s listening. A little frisson of something approaching fear shivers through me. What on earth is she going to say?

  But then she laughs, throwing up her hands. ‘Oh, that got you, didn’t it?’ she says, turning this way and that, setting off little fireworks of light from her jacket. She waits until the noise from the audience dies down.

  ‘But seriously though, that is a really good question. What is the truth? And is my truth even the same as yours? Because while everything I’ve just told you is one hundred per cent accurate, it’s just my view of it; someone else could have an entirely different one. So I wanted to ask you how you see me… standing up here, talking to you about running a successful restaurant. Would you see me as confident? Ambitious? Hard-working? Talented even…?’

  She grins, bowing slightly as if to accept a compliment graciously. ‘And if you think any of those things apply, what would you think if I actually told you who I am?’ She pauses for a moment. ‘The answer to that question, of course, is that I’m exactly the same as you… I am the woman who is terrified of making a fool of herself, scared she won’t know where the toilets are, feeling foolish when everyone else seems to be able to find them but her. I am the woman who’s scared she’s wearing the wrong thing… scared that she’s a vegetarian and there’ll be nothing to eat… scared that she’s too tall, too short, too fat, too skinny, too loud, too quiet, too confident, not confident enough…’

  There’s a ripple of amused laughter running around the room.

  ‘You want more…? I’m worried that my roots are showing, that my lipstick doesn’t really match my outfit, that the spot on my forehead is standing out like Belisha beacon, that…’ She holds up her arms. ‘You see, what I’m getting at is that I am literally every person who’s ever walked the planet. Yet there have been times in my life when I really thought this wasn’t good enough and that to be successful I had to be someone else. But then in a moment of lucidity I asked myself, what if none of these things mattered? What if I could stand in a room and not think these things? What if I could live my life free from the shackles of all these endless questions and judgements, and instead simply accept them? Wouldn’t that be the biggest empowerment of them all?’

  I can see heads nodding all around me, excitement growing. You could hear a pin drop.

  ‘And in turn that got me thinking about the roles I’ve played in my life. About how many of them were real and how many were pretend – fake projections of myself that I held in front of me like a shield – either because I felt I needed to, or because I felt that others expected it of me. But given the choice… would I hold it there at all? Because what I realised then is that not only was it a shield but a barrier too, blocking from sight everything that lay beyond. And until I had lowered that shield there would be no moving past it, and I really, really wa
nted to discover what was on the other side. And importantly, who I could be without it.

  ‘But taking down that shield was scary, after all it had been there a long time. But gradually, as I lowered it bit by bit, I accepted that what I had originally thought of as a weakness – my vulnerability – was actually my biggest strength. It allowed me to be truly open with myself and other people and discover who I was, and who I am. And, of course, once I knew that, then everything else became so much easier.’ She pauses, her eyes roving the audience, another smile lighting up her face.

  ‘So to summarise, I guess I just want you all to know that you can run a successful business, whoever you are, and whatever you believe in… as long as that thing you believe in is yourself. So don’t let anyone tell you you have to be a certain way, or do a certain thing. Don’t let people tell you that you can’t run a business because you are a wife and a mother, run them because you’re a wife and a mother.’

  She points to each of her fingers in turn as if ticking off items on a list. ‘Just know who you are – know what you want to do – love yourself for being and wanting those things – and use that knowledge to drive all your interactions, your relationships, and everything you undertake. Because it’s only when you are one hundred per cent true to yourself that you can really put your energy behind things, unencumbered from constraint. And that’s how you nail it.’ She drops her hands. ‘I hope in the course of this weekend you can all find a little time to ask yourselves those same questions… and maybe find the answers too.’

  A spontaneous round of applause breaks out, but Nancy isn’t finished yet. She holds up her hand, waiting a few more moments.

  ‘And just one last thing… Believe me, it is okay to be the person who’s terrified they won’t find the loo and end up walking around looking lost. So, if that does ever happen to you, just find the person who does know – you never can tell what might happen. For me, it was the start of a beautiful friendship.’ She looks across then, staring straight over at Sam, as she dips her head to acknowledge the tumultuous burst of clapping.

  There’s almost too much to take in. I have no idea what to think, what to say even. Nancy could well have written that speech just for me, and I’m sure everyone else in the room feels the same way. And yet that last part was obviously directed at Sam, but why now? In fact, I don’t even want to think about it. I turn to Esme, her mouth slack in open astonishment.

  ‘Wow,’ she says. ‘Just… wow.’

  She slumps back in her chair, trying to assimilate everything she’s just heard and, as she does so, it gives me a clear line of sight to where Sam and his girlfriend are sitting. I hadn’t intended to look in their direction, but now that I am what I’m seeing is not what I’d expected at all. The woman beside Sam is on her feet, clapping as if her life depended on it, her hands held high, almost level with her face. Beside her Sam claps too, but not towards Nancy, towards his companion instead as if he’s applauding something she’s done. And then I see it, the direction of the woman’s eyes, looking not at Sam, but locked instead on someone else’s gaze. I follow the line of it. To Nancy.

  An elbow nudges me gently in the arm and I see Esme grinning at me, before glancing back to where I had been looking. ‘Do you get it now, Mum?’ she says.

  And I do. The move up here, the opening of the new restaurant, Sam… their break-up. Suddenly, it all makes sense. And relief floods through me.

  ‘Oh my God, you were just brilliant!’ I squeal, throwing my arms around Nancy when we’re finally able to get to her. ‘And you look amazing.’

  She hugs me back, pulling away as she laughs to give us a twirl. ‘Don’t I just? Someone made me this gorgeous suit…’ She holds out her arms to hug Theo and Esme in turn and then she stops, looking beyond them, at the two people making their way towards us.

  I knew it would happen of course. That at some point during the day Sam and I would meet again, it’s one of the things I’ve been most nervous about. Whether Esme knew he’d be here I don’t know but, as I flick a glance at her, I can see that she’s still smiling, looking just as relaxed and happy as she has all day. Even so, I feel for her. This isn’t easy for her either and I should have thought about it, checked with Nancy at the very least. I don’t even know whether Sam is aware that I’ve told Esme about him yet and I can’t begin to imagine how she must be feeling.

  But, as I take a step backward to accommodate the two people joining us, I see Nancy catch Sam’s eye and give a slight nod, and yet again I’m reminded just how special these two people are. I needn’t have worried at all. Sam leans forward to kiss Nancy and then simply stands back and waits. It’s Esme who moves to him, placing a hand lightly on each shoulder, mindful of his balance, and then kissing him on the cheek.

  ‘Hi Sam,’ she says. And it’s as simple as that. The first meeting is over. I know it’s only the start of whatever comes next for both of them, but it is a start and I’m inordinately proud of Esme. For her understanding, her maturity and her compassion.

  I’m so busy thinking about Esme, however, that as Sam steps towards me, I realise I’m as equally unprepared for meeting him as she is. The slow smile that I loved so much spreads over his face until it reaches his eyes, setting alight the gold flecks within them. He moves to kiss me but then, just at the last moment, he turns his cheek so that it rests against mine and it’s somehow far more intimate a gesture. I can feel his warm breath on my ear, the slight scratch from his stubble and the arm not holding his stick sliding around my waist, his fingers spread wide.

  ‘Thank you,’ he whispers, and I feel the soft pressure from his lips, only a split second but the imprint of them burns into my skin. And the thought of him sheer takes my breath away.

  It feels as if everyone will have noticed what just happened – the intensity of emotion, rising around us like smoke – but, as I pull away, I realise of course that no one has. No one except Sam and me.

  ‘Alys?’ The sound of my name startles me and I look up to see the woman who arrived with Sam now standing by Nancy’s side. ‘Can I introduce you to someone very special,’ she says. ‘This is Ruth.’

  It seems the most natural thing in the world to hug her too and as we move apart I can see that she’s perfectly relaxed. She’s been a part of this family for a while, I realise.

  ‘It’s so lovely to finally meet you, Alys,’ she says. ‘I’ve heard so much about you that it seems a little unfair we haven’t met until now. But I’ve been away for several weeks and it just wasn’t possible.’ She grins at Nancy. ‘Are you ever going to stop telling people that we met because you couldn’t find the loo? I never quite know how to introduce myself!’

  Nancy beams at me. ‘Ruth’s an estate agent,’ she says, giving me a meaningful look.

  ‘Of course…’ I reply, laughing, suddenly understanding how Nancy had managed to obtain the keys for the cottages we viewed. ‘That makes perfect sense.’

  ‘Although she’s also a valuer and auctioneer, so you two are going to get along like a house on fire. She loves anything with a bit of history to it as well.’

  ‘Which might explain why she fell for Nancy in the first place,’ adds Sam, grinning.

  And I look at him, laughing and embracing his wife’s new relationship, fully and without any ill-feeling or bitterness. It makes me see just how wonderful a man he really is. The difference between him and Hugh stands out in stark relief, and I know there’s no way that Hugh would be here supporting me in this way if the shoe were on the other foot. It’s an incredibly sad thought. Not for me, but for Hugh, who always wanted to be the best, who thought he could be the best, but who, in the end, just couldn’t quite find it within himself. I really hope that one day he does.

  ‘Come on,’ says Nancy. ‘Let’s go and get something to eat. I’m dying to see what the catering is like here.’ She winks. ‘I’ve heard it’s quite good.’

  Lunch isn’t a drawn-out affair. The delegates are on a schedule, and so after only half an
hour or so people are beginning to move, heading for the next part of their conference. I can’t help but wonder how many of them, if any, have noticed how momentous today has been. It feels as if there should be fireworks exploding, or dramatic music playing at the very least. But who knows, maybe I won’t be the only one who looks back on this unremarkable Saturday in the middle of August and remembers it as the day when their life changed.

  Theo and Esme will head back to the restaurant soon; their working day is just beginning, and for Nancy too, I guess. As for Sam, I have no idea what he’ll be doing next, or where he’ll be going, and I know I have no right to ask.

  The room has almost emptied and I can see that the staff are anxious to get the lunch things cleared away. I get to my feet, saying my goodbyes and fishing in my handbag for my car keys. I’m almost at the door when I feel a touch on my arm. I turn to find Nancy and Ruth behind me.

  ‘Thank you for coming today, Alys,’ says Nancy. ‘And for this absolutely amazing suit. It’s been just perfect.’

  I look over her shoulder to where Theo and Esme are standing, getting back into work mode, ready for the afternoon and evening ahead. With them is Sam, chatting easily, all three of them laughing and smiling.

  ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’ I say. ‘And you’re right. It has been perfect.’ I give both her and Ruth an impulsive hug. ‘And it’s been so lovely meeting you too,’ I add, meaning every word. If Nancy has anything to do with it, I know I’ve just found another friend.

  Nancy looks at me then. ‘What are you going to do?’ she asks.

  I take in a deep breath. ‘Well, I have a massive pile of ironing, the bathroom to clean and tea to make.’

  ‘That wasn’t what I meant,’ she chastises gently.

  ‘No, I know… And for the moment I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but the future is mine to make. There are going to be some hard things to face, some tough decisions to be made, but I also have hope that things will turn out the right way. One day at a time, that’s all I can do.’