by Lucy Dawson
I scoop up a large cup full of powder and frown at the front of the machine: do I put it in the drum? Or is there a little drawer it goes in?
I very much regret that we had hostile words and Ham was so distressed just before he died, of course I do. Had he told me how frightened he was about Michelle, I would have tried to help him. I understand now why he was panicked – all of that nonsense about going to the hotel and pretending he couldn’t find Alex, just to make it seem as if it had been even more of an ordeal for him. He didn’t need to do that. Knowing what I know now, I get why it was such a big ask. It was brave and kind of him to go at all.
Which is also why I don’t believe he really would have betrayed me with the files and the knife. He was just very badly shaken indeed by the police proximity to him, maybe even having some sort of breakdown, but for God’s sake, if he hadn’t gone for me like that, I wouldn’t have pushed him! He wouldn’t have fallen. He would still be here!
My hand jerks involuntarily, scattering some washing powder over my feet like snow. I have to place the cup on the shelf and lean both hands either side of the utility room sink, taking a few deep breaths as I stare at the plug. I miss him. I feel very alone.
At least Julia herself has emerged unscathed by all of this. Whatever whispers there might still be about her incredible ‘letters in patients’ theory will fade away with time, before becoming nothing of consequence – everyone is too busy talking about Hamish to remember what accusations a desperate mother cried in the middle of the night. Her reputation won’t suffer. Alex is fine, too. I wish to God I could convince Julia that he was never in any danger… but she doesn’t believe me. I understand why she wants me gone, but it’s important that I’m here to help support Hamish’s family through this difficult time. I can’t move to America and leave them now. I can’t just run away. It wouldn’t be right.
I bend to look at the bewildering array of buttons. Twenty-minute wash? That’ll do, but as I straighten up, cramp kicks into my left calf. I went too hard at the gym, agitated after Julia’s left-field visit yesterday morning, pushing myself until I nearly dropped.
I can’t possibly give up my career either, however much Julia wants me to. It’s a ludicrous suggestion. Financially I’m in very good shape, but I’m only fifty-one! Surgery is all I know how to do; it’s who I am. It’s enough that the slate has been wiped clean, surely? I really think that I can make a proper go of things professionally this time; do some good.
I wander back through to the warmth of the kitchen to make some coffee. Storm is sat at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea. Not reading or on her phone, just sipping, and waiting… which knowing her as I do, makes me instantly wary.
‘You all right?’ I ask. ‘Where’s Ben?’
‘He’s upstairs.’
I look around and see an absence of evidence of Sunday lunch. ‘Want me to make a start on peeling some potatoes?’ I offer, hungry and determined to make an effort.
‘Can you just sit down for a moment, please?’
I knew it. Something’s afoot. I do as I’m asked. Has she been crying? I think she might have been.
‘Since your recent arrest things have been… challenging.’ She holds onto her mug with both hands. ‘I discover you’ve been having an affair; we decide to make a fresh start in the States. Then Hamish dies and suddenly you can’t go and leave the Wilsons and the department in the lurch after all. You want to stay. It’s all been very confusing and unsettling for me, and Ben, but then I heard what you said to Julia on the doorstep yesterday, about you and I being done. How we are nothing but imported Italian baths, and your motivation for a lot of things became crystal clear for me pretty quickly… I was standing right behind you. You didn’t see me.’ She takes a mouthful of tea.
The bath thing is too specific a reference to be anything but the truth. I don’t react, however. I just wait to see which way she is going to play this.
‘You told her she’s the love of your life. I told you very recently that love was my red line. While you were at the gym,’ she continues, her tone flat, ‘I told Ben you’re not going to be living with us anymore, and he started crying. He wanted to know if it was because of what he saw on your computer a little while ago when he came back early after swimming was cancelled; a film of you having sex with someone in your office at work and I quote: “laughing over his shoulder at me and winking”. Ben told me it was Stefanie. He saw other images of women too. It made him feel confused, and angry. We discussed how it’s really hard to talk to your parent about something like that, and you sometimes end up trying to forget about it instead.’
An unpleasant cold shiver ripples through me. ‘I’ll speak to him…’ I begin and she laughs.
‘Like you did when you told him you knew something that would cheer him up? He would be the “hero” when you went back to get Alex from Fowles?’
Shit. He told her about that too? I shift in my seat, starting to feel a little agitated.
‘He didn’t know what to think when he woke up and you weren’t here because you’d been arrested.’ She looks at me steadily. ‘He still lied to the police for you, though – only now he thinks he’s going to go to prison for that and you are too.’
‘OK, let’s cut to the chase.’ I return her gaze. ‘What do you want from me, Storm?’
‘Go to America, but without us.’
‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘I can’t do that. I’m sorry. You want to leave me, you go.’
‘I had a feeling you might respond this way.’ She sips her tea again. ‘Ben took a screenshot of you and Stefanie in action. He gave it to me, and unless you’re gone by tonight, I’m going to give it to Julia Blythe. I imagine she’ll give it to the police.’
I look at her, astonished. The knife has gone in but I can’t feel the pain yet. I have not cleaned everything up as well as I thought. ‘Can I see it, please?’
She raises her eyebrows. ‘You’re calling your son a liar? That’s a bit rich, isn’t it? You might have a job convincing people you really knew nothing about the filming, given you’re winking at the camera over your shoulder – you disgusting, arrogant bastard.’ She speaks calmly but her hands tighten around the mug.
I breathe out deeply. ‘Please don’t show it to her. That’s not who I am now. I don’t want her to see me being that person.’
Storm closes her eyes briefly. ‘Then go. Or I will ruin you.’ She stands up. ‘I’m going to take Ben out. I think it would be better if you’re gone when we get back. My solicitors will be in touch.’
She turns and starts to walk out of the kitchen. I watch her retreating back and am momentarily furious.
‘I’ve never loved you,’ I find myself calling after her, ‘to tell the truth.’
Forty-Nine
Julia
Looking through NHS jobs with a cup of tea, rather than the papers, is not an especially relaxing way to spend a Sunday morning, but needs must. Cass is laughing at something on her phone, and Al wanders into the kitchen in his pjs, with Dom on FaceTime, to ask if it’s OK for the two of them to do a Dartmoor walk the following Saturday. ‘Dad is going to book a hotel but wants to know if that’s OK with you first. We haven’t got plans already?’
‘That’s fine. Thanks for checking though, Dom.’ I wave briefly and return to my laptop. One ‘Locum Consultant Plastic Surgeon’ position in central London with a specialist interest in ‘Breast Reconstruction and Microsurgery’. Something similar but permanent in Newcastle: ‘a team of fifteen consultants, on-call commitment…’ but Newcastle. Miles away. Two posts in Birmingham: ‘a twenty-six strong team; special interests Orthoplastic Trauma’. At the other end of the scale, there’s a small team in north Tyneside. I’d be expected to be predominantly involved in the skin cancer and microvascular breast reconstruction services, plus assisting in the general plastic surgery emergency and trauma service.
Could I maybe commute to Birmingham from here? But that wouldn’t solve the kids seeing Nathan at
school. And I don’t want to be away from them during the week. They need me. I need them. Wearily, I rub my temples with my fingers. I don’t want any of these jobs. None of them excite me at all… and yet I cannot work with him. I just can’t.
‘How about I book us lunch out somewhere?’
I glance up to see Ewan looking at me worriedly. I try to smile. ‘That sounds nice.’
‘And a quick walk on the beach afterwards before a movie back here?’ He is already picking up his phone.
‘Lovely.’ And it is. I don’t want us to leave.
The doorbell rings. Ewan briefly covers the phone’s mouthpiece. ‘That’s probably my Amazon delivery. Would you mind getting it… Oh hi. Yes, I wonder if you’ve got a table for Sunday lunch?’
I get up automatically and head down the passage, still deep in thought. I fling it open expecting only to have to sign for something, to discover Storm and Ben standing on the doorstep. They have very obviously both been crying.
‘Thanks for this.’ Storm shivers as she holds the cup of tea and looks around the room, her eyes alighting on the piano. ‘Do you play?’
‘I used to.’
‘Is there anything you can’t do?’
I’m not sure what to say to that, so I just look down at the floor.
‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘That was unnecessary. It’s a nice space.’
‘Thank you. I haven’t got around to sorting it properly yet.’
‘You need an interior designer,’ she remarks drily. ‘Listen,’ she continues before I have to answer that, ‘can I talk to you?’ She looks at the door. ‘In confidence?’
‘Yes, of course. They can’t hear us when they’re in the sitting room,’ I assure her. ‘The walls are too thick.’
She takes a deep breath, sets her tea down carefully and clears her throat. ‘After I heard what Nate said to you yesterday, I had a think. I slept on it – I didn’t say anything to Nathan himself, just waited. Once he’d gone to the gym first thing this morning, I told Ben that very sadly, Daddy wasn’t going to live with us anymore.’ She begins to absently twist her wedding and engagement rings. ‘Ben started to cry and asked me if it was because of the film of his father having sex with Stefanie in his office at work – you’ll remember her from that charming dinner we all shared – on Nathan’s computer? He went into Nate’s study at home to borrow his laptop charger and told me, “Dad was on the screen, looking right into the camera and smiling”.’
‘Shit!’ I swear aloud before I can stop myself. No wonder Stefanie was so hostile to me! She must have been terrified when I told her about Nathan filming his patients… although she was sleeping with him and he operated on her? Urgh!
‘I know. It wasn’t Hamish doing the filming – at least, certainly not alone. My husband is not a very nice man.’ Storm picks up her tea again. ‘I’ve changed since I married him too.’ She takes a tiny sip, as if it’s too hot. ‘The first time a nurse friend told me about the rumours he was having an affair with one of his patients, I thought it was because she was jealous that Nathan Sloan fancied me. I’d started seeing him on the quiet by then and only she knew. When I got pregnant, she said he’d end it, but Nate left his wife. That’s how much he loves me… I can actually remember thinking that. I can also remember listening to Nate on the phone to his daughters when we were newly living together, telling them he hadn’t made a promise he was going to see them that weekend, it was only ever a maybe, and I didn’t think anything of it. I should have run as fast as I could, but I loved him. That’s my mistake. It’s not Ben’s. He doesn’t deserve any of what has happened.’ Her eyes shine fiercely and she puts her mug down on the table. ‘I’ve told Nathan he’s to go to America without us. The further away the better. Anyway there’s a reason you need to know this.’
‘Storm, whatever Nathan says he feels for me is not—’ I begin, but she holds up a hand.
‘I told Nathan that Ben took a screenshot of him having sex with Stefanie and looking at the camera, and that I have that picture now. If he isn’t gone by tonight, I’m going to give it to you. He’s desperate for you not to see the image…’ She exhales deeply.
‘It’s the police that you should give it to, not me!’
‘I would if I had it, but I don’t. Nathan just thinks I do.’
My eyes widen. ‘Oh, Storm!’
‘I know!’ she says, raking her fingers back through her hair, resting her elbows on her knees. ‘That’s why I was wondering… if he calls my bluff – would you maybe be prepared to lie and tell him you’ve seen it?’
‘Except the trouble is he knows I would take that to the police. I can’t do that if it doesn’t exist. He’d realise very quickly that you’d lied to him. Your best shot is threatening to show it to me, but I wouldn’t say I’ve already seen it. I’m sorry.’
She bites her lip and gets to her feet. ‘No, you’re right. I didn’t think of that.’ She points at the window. ‘A heavy velvet would be nice. Nothing ever did happen between the two of you, did it?’ She turns to face me again.
I look her in the eye. ‘No. It didn’t. He tried to kiss me on the beach at that rugby weekend. Someone took a photo of us.’ I wait to see if she’s going to admit it was her, but she turns away.
‘Wow. So I’m the only woman in my husband’s life he didn’t want on film.’ Her voice is light with the sharpness of pain.
Instinctively, I reach out and put my hand on her arm. ‘Why don’t you leave Ben here with us? Come back for him later?’
She clears her throat. ‘It might be better if he doesn’t have to see Nathan angry. If you’re sure?’
I take my hand back. ‘Of course, but are you OK going back there on your own? You don’t want Ewan to come with you, just in case?’
‘Thank you, but I’ll be fine.’ She wipes her eyes and gives me a grim smile. ‘That said, if I don’t turn up later, you know who to suspect.’
She’s joking – at least I think she is – but all through lunch, as the three children happily chatter away and mess around on their phones, I’m quiet, remembering how it felt to watch Dom leave, knowing there was no going back… being sure it was the right thing, but feeling like I’d failed Alex very badly. Storm is angry and hurt enough at the moment for that to carry her through this first bit, but what about Nathan? He will be feeling cornered by Storm right now. And what will happen then? Tan’s voice urging me not to challenge Nathan myself echoes in my head.
By the time we get home, I’m starting to panic that I let her go back there on her own. Nathan’s behaviour has been indulged for such a long time and been allowed to become so extreme, I don’t think he even knows how to stop anymore. Sitting at the kitchen table, I try to concentrate on reading the more detailed job spec for the London post, but all I can think about is: what if Nathan turns up at our house and says he’s come to collect Ben. Do I let him go? Do I call the police? When the doorbell goes, my chair scrapes the floor I get up so fast.
I actually laugh with relief when it’s Storm I find standing on the step. Alive. Safe. I lean on the door frame, weakly.
‘I did message Ben,’ she looks at me warily, ‘but he didn’t reply? Sorry – have I interrupted something?’
‘No, not at all. They’re all upstairs. Do you want to come in?’
She shakes her head. ‘I won’t, thank you. We probably should get back. It’s done. He’s gone. He flies to America tomorrow. I’ve no idea where he’ll be tonight, but…’ Her eyes fill with tears and she wipes them away quickly. ‘Sorry! He kept asking to see the picture and I kept refusing. In the end he just – accepted it. He said he hoped one day I’d forgive him, and he didn’t blame me for what I was doing, I was right to protect Ben. That was one of the reasons he married me, apparently, because I’m so strong and determined.’
I can hear the sadness in her voice and that’s the power of someone like Nathan: gently stroking the side of your face with one hand while slicing the scalpel with the other.
Joan is
in our office in tears the following morning. ‘It’s so sad!’ She sniffs into a tissue. ‘He’s such a beautiful man! He called me himself last night to explain because he knew I’d be worried about him when I heard the news that he’d resigned. Isn’t that kind? Thinking of others even at a time like this! He just can’t be in the hospital anymore. It’s too painful for him to think about working here without Hamish, and I can see that. They were like brothers, they really were. So they’re letting him go on gardening leave, and he’s going to work in America now. I said to him not to make any rash decisions and that grief is a funny thing, but he said it’s made him reconsider a lot and you only get one life – which is true enough, I suppose.’
Tan listens without a word, arms crossed, then walks over to the kettle and puts it on. ‘Well, good luck to him,’ he says shortly. ‘Can I make you a tea, Joan? It’s obviously been a shock for you.’
‘No, thank you, my love!’ Joan lifts her glasses to dab under her eyes. ‘I need to go and tell the other team now; they won’t have heard yet, I shouldn’t think.’
‘That’s him now!’ Michelle says suddenly, looking out of the window, and we all get up to look. Sure enough, I catch my breath. There’s Nathan walking across the car park in bright sunshine, against a brilliant, blue sky. He has his back to us, but that relaxed, confident swagger could only belong to him.
