Single (ARC)

by K. L. Slater

  ‘Totally understandable, I’d say.’ He thinks for a moment. ‘Neither of you knew about the other? He deceived you both?’

  ‘She claimed she didn’t know, but I’m sure she’d have done anything to keep him.’ I feel heat rising through my neck and into my face. ‘We had children together; she was nothing more than a distraction for him.’

  ‘Do you know when he started the affair with her? How long had you two been married?’

  I feel sick at the mere thought of it now. ‘There’s still a lot I don’t know, but he wasn’t having an affair; it was far more serious than that. He was living with us both, sharing his life completely. There’s a hell of a difference.’

  George nods. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says.

  ‘I just thought you needed to know,’ I say. ‘It’s important we’re honest with each other.’

  ‘Agreed,’ he says. ‘And I appreciate it.’

  ‘Then you won’t mind returning the favour?’

  He visibly tenses. ‘In what way?’

  ‘I want to see a photograph of Opal, George. I want to know what my enemy looks like, if she comes near me or my children.’

  ‘I’ve told you, she’s not dangerous or—’

  ‘I know what you’ve told me, but I still want to see a photograph of her.’ I put down my glass with a thud. ‘Right now.’

  A shadow passes over his face, but I’m adamant. I’m sick of looking out of the window and feeling vulnerable, seeking out anyone who might be acting suspicious.

  He picks up his phone, his jaw set and eyes hooded. I’m forcing him to face something he absolutely wants to ignore, and I know how that feels. But I have to think of my sons’ safety here.

  He seems to spend ages scrolling through photos. Finally he turns the screen to face me.

  ‘There she is. Satisfied?’

  The room seems to swirl for a moment and I’m glad to be sitting down. I gasp as I take in the face he’s showing me. Then I sit back and stare into those slightly vacant eyes again, and shiver as the realisation dawns on me. I’ve definitely met Opal Vardy before.

  The same shoulder-length brown hair, dark eyes, pale skin… She’s smiling here, looks bright and lively, but there’s no mistaking it’s her.

  ‘I’ve met this woman, George,’ I whisper. ‘She was at the hospital, outside the urology ward, the day I dropped off your thank-you card.’ He looks aghast. ‘She was acting weird, pacing around and staring at me. When I came out, she asked if I was visiting someone.’

  ‘Did she threaten you?’

  I shake my head. ‘No, but it was all very odd. I felt uncomfortable being alone with her.’

  ‘You should have told me this before,’ he says grimly. ‘I’ll have a word with the ward manager, Sherry. She’ll keep an eye out in future.’

  I’m dumbfounded for a moment, waiting for his outrage, his concern for my safety. But it doesn’t come.

  ‘This proves we need to go to the police,’ I state simply. ‘She’s obviously obsessed with you.’

  The words seem to wobble there, at the end of my tongue. But George doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t say anything at all.

  ‘It’s gone too far now, you must see that. I’m scared what she might do next.’

  ‘Look, let’s not jump to conclusions. We don’t know for certain it was Opal in the woods; it could’ve been Joel’s other—’ He catches himself. ‘Sorry. I’ll speak to the ward manager when I get back to work. She’ll soon stop to anybody hanging around outside.’

  ‘But we can explain to the police that I’ve seen her at the hospital and that she’s probably here too.’ I glance outside again, get up and draw the curtains. ‘I think you should alert your bosses at the hospital.’

  ‘I’d need to be sure. This could damage my career… it would never recover.’ He reaches for my hand. ‘I will sort this out, but it’s Christmas Eve and I refuse to ruin it with a visit from the police. The kids would be so alarmed.’

  I don’t answer him and I don’t pull my hand away, but I can’t shake the feeling that something about his attitude feels odd. It also stings that he’s so ready to trivialise my assertion that I have seen Opal before.

  George is extremely ambitious; he’s in line for a very big promotion and he’s nervous that Opal could cause problems for him at work. That I can accept.

  What I can’t accept is that he would willingly put his career before our children’s safety. He’s such a caring, logical guy, but he simply will not acknowledge that Opal could be a risk to them. I shudder when I think what might have happened to Romy out there if Harrison hadn’t thought on his feet and rushed in to alert us.

  He needs to get something legal in place, a restraining order or similar.

  Despite everything George has told me, the whole situation feels like a jigsaw that has a bunch of key pieces missing right in the middle. It’s making me feel increasingly uncomfortable that I can’t get a handle on the whole picture.

  Could there be there something he isn’t telling me?

  In the interests of us enjoying our Christmas break, I decide to keep that concern to myself… for now.

  Thirty-Five

  Harrison, Kane and Romy troop through from the television room.

  ‘The Simpsons has just finished,’ Harrison says. ‘Can we go outside?’

  ‘Perfect timing!’ George claps his hands. ‘Who’s up for going in the hot tub?’

  ‘Me!’ three excited voices chorus.

  It’s a bit of an ordeal getting ready for the hot tub. The strap on Romy’s one-piece snaps, but I easily remedy that with a safety pin. Kane, possibly still a bit nervous, decides he doesn’t want to go outside after all and has to be persuaded by the rest of us.

  I slip my own swimsuit on and look critically at myself in the full-length mirror in the bedroom. I wish I’d invested in a new one with better support and a flattering cut instead of recycling this old one. I bought it about ten years ago, when I was considerably younger and leaner around the hips; now, the high-cut legs aren’t doing me any favours.

  George, however, raises an appreciative eyebrow as I lower myself self-consciously into the tub. The kids are bubbling with excitement, but I feel stiff and uptight as I scan the trees in front of us. The light is already starting to fade.

  ‘Hey.’

  I look over at George.

  ‘Relax,’ he says. ‘Everything is fine.’

  I nod and make a big effort to focus on the children instead of the awful possibility that someone is still out there. I’m yet to see a security officer patrolling around our lodge but I know George will object if I suggest he pays another visit to reception.

  There’s an outdoor speaker on the patio, and George has set a jolly Christmas playlist going. ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’ and ‘Santa Baby’ have us all singing along in no time.

  The hot tub does what it says on the box. It’s relaxing, fun and lovely and warm. The kids gasp as all around us tiny fairy lights suddenly spring to life, illuminating the trees and patio. The fake snow glitters on the ground, and the scene is instantly transformed from slightly eerie to wonderfully festive.

  George reaches down behind the tub and hands me a glass of mulled wine. As I sink lower in my seat and allow the jets to massage my tense neck and shoulders, I actually start to feel like this might not turn out to be such a bad Christmas after all.

  * * *

  Christmas morning has to rank as one of the best the boys and I have ever had.

  The kids are all up at 6 a.m., and although George tries in vain to get them back in bed for another hour, he’s outvoted and we open presents.

  Romy is delighted with her Disney princess outfit from me, and Kane and Harry jump up and down with glee when they unwrap the latest Nottingham Forest football strip from George and Romy.

  I’ve also brought a few presents for the boys, and George has done the same for Romy. The rest of them they’ll get when we return home.

  We enjoy watchin
g the children open their gifts, and then George and I exchange presents.

  He seems genuinely pleased with the Paul Smith shirt and Trent Bridge cricket membership I’ve got him.

  He hands me a small, exquisitely wrapped flat box. All eyes are on me as, with bated breath, I pull open the scarlet velvet double bow and peel off the expensive silver paper to reveal the pale gold box inside.

  I have butterflies in my stomach when I remove the box lid to reveal the most beautiful diamond tennis bracelet I’ve ever seen.

  ‘It’s… sublime. Truly, George, I’ve never owned anything so stunning.’

  The children all gasp in admiration and George laughs as I continue to stare, open-mouthed. He reaches over and takes out the bracelet, slipping it around my wrist before fastening it.

  He sits back to admire it glinting on my arm. ‘Truly elegant and graceful, like its new owner.’

  I lean forward and kiss him on the lips. ‘Thank you. I love you.’

  ‘Love you too,’ he whispers.

  ‘Yuck!’ Harrison exclaims. ‘Get a room.’

  ‘Hey, cheeky!’ I playfully scold him. We both burst out laughing and Harrison grins, but there’s a tinge of sadness playing around his eyes. Sometimes he really surprises me; shows me he’s growing up.

  At 10 a.m., after breakfast, the staff, dressed as elves and reindeer, visit all the lodges, bringing warm cranberry juice for the kids and Buck’s Fizz for the adults.

  Romy and Kane in particular were mesmerised late last night when we heard jingling bells and ran outside to see real reindeer pulling Santa Claus in a gloriously authentic sleigh through the park. All the kids at the neighbouring lodges were out in their pyjamas, and everyone waved and said hello to each other. I glanced at the trees I’d been so wary of earlier in the day, and felt reassured that we were safe here now that George had taken the necessary steps.

  There has been no sign at all of anything or anyone untoward and earlier, I did spot an official in uniform walking close to the lodge which could indicated the security presence the manager promised is now in place.

  Now I glance over at George and see he looks a little mesmerised himself at the young blonde elf we met on reception when we first arrived, but I push it out of my mind. She’s very lovely and he’s only sneaking a crafty glimpse.

  Besides, she’s accompanied by a couple of strapping Santa’s helpers, and now I don’t feel too bad checking out the biceps on show.

  Before long, it’s time to get dressed and go out for lunch, and we enjoy a superb meal, great quality and traditional in every way, surpassing all our expectations.

  Later in the afternoon, the kids are all fast asleep in the TV room and George and I finally get a little time alone.

  We kiss and snuggle together, watching the flames flicker in the log burner. I’m beginning to doze myself when George speaks up.

  ‘Darcy, there’s something I want to ask you. But I’m worried you might not appreciate it.’

  I smile, eyes closed as I listen to the smooth tones of Michael Bublé emanating discreetly from the sound system. Reaching up, I touch George’s cheek, feel the bristles under the softness of my fingertips.

  ‘Just say it,’ I whisper, my heart beating harder. When I open my eyes, I see he looks troubled and I’m not sure if it’s a good or a bad thing he’s about to say.

  ‘I wondered if… Would you and the boys like to move in with us? I mean, it doesn’t have to be right now, but soon… that’s if you don’t feel we’re rushing things.’

  In a flash, the long years of struggling as a single parent whoosh through my mind. Our small cramped house; crying myself to sleep when I’d put the boys to bed at night; finding out Joel wasn’t the man I thought I knew, but protecting his memory for the boys’ sake.

  And now George is giving me the chance to start again, living as a family in his lovely house and garden, playing games with the kids, cooking meals together. I think about how the boys are already comfortable in George’s company and treat Romy like the sister they never had.

  It’s the perfect solution to scupper any plans Daniela might have to evict us on her terms, too. It couldn’t be better timing.

  But what will Joel’s family say? They’re bound to have an opinion on how quickly our relationship is developing.

  ‘Darcy? Say something… even if it’s no.’

  It’s definitely rushing things, there are no two ways about that. And they’ll be sure to make their feelings known.

  But then so what? I suddenly feel a certainty that dispels my doubts.

  We’re not love-struck teenagers; we’ve seen a lot of life, both of us surviving tragedy. We know what we like and what we don’t like.

  No matter what people might say – what other people might think – do I really want to pass up this chance of happiness for the sake of appearances and some dated idea of how long people ought to get to know each other before making a serious commitment?

  I look at George, register his guarded expression as he seems to steel himself for a knock-back.

  ‘The answer is yes,’ I say, my words breaking with emotion. ‘Me and the boys would love to move in with you and Romy.’

  He grabs me, holds me tightly.

  ‘I love you so much,’ he whispers, grasping my hair and kissing my lips, cheeks, eyelids.

  I’ve got this bubbly, hopeful feeling in my chest that I hope lasts forever. And it’s all I want to focus on right now.

  I push the other, shadowy stuff to the back of my mind. I refuse to let anything spoil our happiness.

  Thirty-Six

  When we arrive back home after our wonderful Christmas break, I feel rejuvenated and so positive for our future together as a new family.

  Steph calls me the day we return and invites herself over.

  ‘I’ll bring a bottle of wine over tomorrow night. I want to hear all about your break and see the pics. It’ll do us good to have a catch-up and get back on track after our disagreement.’

  There was no disagreement about it. I told her I was dating again and she couldn’t handle it!

  ‘We’ll catch up soon, I promise,’ I say, thinking on my feet. ‘I’ve got a ton to do and really want to see you but the next few days are swallowed up with chasing up jobs after the Christmas break.’ As I expected, she greets this news with a frosty silence. ‘Let me look at the diary and we’ll sort something out, I promise.’

  I feel bad when she ends the call abruptly but my news about moving in with George has to be given properly. I owe Brenda and Leonard the courtesy of telling them face to face and Steph knows me too well. I’d never be able to conceal the news if we meet up. Sensing I was holding back, she’d hound me until I cracked.

  The following week, it’s back to business as usual: shopping for bits of school uniform, updating my new year yoga classes on the website. We’re already spending lots more time at George’s house and I’ve started clandestinely packing boxes upstairs.

  ‘It’s better for the boys to get used to the house gradually over the next few weeks,’ George sensibly suggested. ‘Bring them over as often as you like.’

  I nod, appearing to take it all in my stride but privately, I crumble a bit when I think of telling Joel’s family about my decision to move in with George. Still, I arrange with Brenda we’ll go over for a family tea on Sunday.

  Saturday morning, I drop the boys off with Brenda and Leonard, and drive over to George’s. He’s suggested we speak to Maria today about me and the boys moving in.

  ‘She’s not working today but I’ve asked her to pop in for half an hour and she’s offered to take Romy to the park. You don’t have to tell her today but I’m guessing you might want to reduce her working hours once you get into the swing of things here.’

  I gulp a bit at that. I hadn’t thought about the practical measures of moving in with George and part of me feels guilty for having a negative impact on Maria’s position.

  I’ve made an effort to look a bit smarter th
an I usually would at the weekend, wearing a fitted top and black trousers instead of my preferred jeans. I want to feel I match up to Lucy in Maria’s eyes, when we tell her of our plans.

  Typically, George and Romy are upstairs, getting her stuff together, when Maria arrives. I call up to George but Romy has the television on in her bedroom and he doesn’t hear. I steel myself and open the door.

  ‘Maria, hello again!’ I offer her a big smile when I open the door to save her using her key.

  She looks slightly taken aback to see me but nods and gives me a small smile. She’s a tall woman with well-preserved skin. But there’s a faded air about her, diluted, almost. I find myself wondering if she has her own family.

  I take a few steps back so she can come inside, but she hovers around in the porch, seemingly a bit nervous in my company.

  ‘Would you like to come through, Maria? I can make us some tea while Romy’s getting ready, and there’s an artisan mince pie from the lodge park hamper going spare if you fancy it.’

  ‘No!’ she says quickly, and then seems to catch herself. ‘Thank you, Darcy, but I’ve eaten quite enough recently to last me through the next month at least.’ She pats her tummy and I laugh.

  ‘I know how that feels!’

  I’m hoping we’ve broken the ice, but she falls silent again. Shifts her weight from one foot to the other. She spends so much time in this house and yet she’s acting like a stranger in my presence.

  ‘Romy!’ I call up the stairs, over my shoulder. ‘Maria’s here.’

  ‘Did you… did you all have a nice time at the lodge?’ She watches me intently.

  ‘We did. It was really wonderful.’ Our conversation is so stilted, I find myself grasping for something interesting to say. ‘George bought me this; it was a lovely surprise.’

  I hold up my wrist, and the diamond bracelet sparkles under the crystal chandelier in the hallway.

  Maria lets out a little gasp, and her hand flies to her throat.