by Mary Grand
Alex sat forward and surprised her by saying, ‘I would love to read it when you finish it. It sounds fascinating. I love poetry, all kind of reading actually. Imogen and I swap novels, usually crime.’
‘Imogen said you discovered you both loved to read.’
‘Yes. Her and William came to stay with me after Christmas. They wanted to see some of London. I needed company. I was in a very dark place then, having only just lost Amy. Imogen and I discovered we both liked reading and she helped me get back into books. It was a real help, an escape I guess.’
‘I can understand that. Sami, on the other hand, only reads medical books. So, what are you reading now?’
Beth wasn’t sure if it was the wine, but Alex seemed genuinely interested and they carried on chatting about books. Sami, she noticed, was very quiet.
They ordered pudding and then left the pub as soon as they had finished.
As they walked up the street Beth was burning with questions. To think Sami had lied to her was so shocking: he never lied. But then he’d explained it all, hadn’t he? Was she over-reacting? She had to say something, but she and Sami didn’t do rows. She’d joked they could easily ignore a whole room full of elephants if necessary.
When they got in, Sami and Beth started to go through the usual night-time routines, both knowing their roles but also knowing they were avoiding talking. Sami let Ollie out in the back garden. Beth tidied the kitchen. Ollie came back in and sat on his bed waiting for his treat before he was left for the night.
Sami was pouring himself a large glass of water, and Beth knew they could easily go to bed with nothing sorted, but she’d never be able to sleep. So she coughed, and started awkwardly. ‘I think you should have told me about Kathleen being in hospital. When you said she was emotional, was it something to do with that?’
‘Kathleen went in for observations after a panic attack. That’s all. Her heart had been racing most of the day. They wanted to monitor it.’
‘But why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Kathleen didn’t want anyone to know she’d stayed in hospital. You know how people over-react.’
‘So, I am just “people”, am I?’
‘Of course not, but she asked me not to say anything to anyone, not even Patrick, so please don’t mention it to him.’
Sami opened the cake tin and nibbled at a Welsh cake.
Beth pursed her lips. ‘I’ve asked you where you were last Tuesday evening. You let me believe you’d stayed at King’s, and now I find out you were at the hospital with Kathleen. You lied to me. You told me you came back early because the students had an exam.’
‘Look, I admit I didn’t tell you the truth, but I was protecting Kathleen. If you like it was a lie for the greater good, a white lie.’
Beth understood his reasoning more than he realised. It was how she often justified keeping her own secret to herself, telling the lies she did to Sami. But deep down she knew it was not all about others: it was to protect herself, to avoid being looked down on, rejected, even by Sami.
Beth looked at her husband. The problem was working out if he had been lying purely to protect Kathleen or if there was some other, darker reason. That was what was really tearing at her, but she didn’t have the courage to go there. Instead she took a different path.
‘I can just about accept you were trying to protect Kathleen, but in the light of what’s happened, I think you should have told me. I mean, why did she have this massive panic attack?’
‘It was just one of those things, the move and everything getting on top of her. It was nothing to do with her death; it was personal. She had her reasons for wanting things kept private and I respected that.’
‘But for God’s sake, Sami, she’s dead now and none of us know why she died.’
‘The police will find out what happened. It was most likely an accident.’
‘But all those things she told me on Sunday, I can’t just click my fingers and magic them away. I don’t want to. I’ve already started to find out things about Kathleen I never knew. They may not be important as to why she died, but I’ve a feeling they may be. Gemma understood why I’ve been asking questions; she doesn’t think I should stop.’
Sami’s eyes widened in alarm. ‘What have you been saying to Gemma?’
‘I only told her what Kathleen had said to me on Sunday evening.’
‘For goodness sake, of all the people to tell it to! It’ll be all over the island by tomorrow.’
‘No. You underestimate Gemma. She has a lot of insight, and I needed to talk to someone who wasn’t going to dismiss everything I say like you and Imogen do.’
‘You talked to Imogen about it as well?’
‘Well—’
‘For goodness sake, Beth!’
Beth stood upright, crossed her arms. ‘I only said what had happened. That is all. And you know – I’m not sorry. I know it involves our friends, but I am trying to be brave and face it.’
Sami came close to her. ‘You can’t go around casting aspersions about our friends. The police pick up on these things. Look at them questioning me and Alex about what we’d been doing on Monday morning. They probably did that because you said Kathleen thought she’d upset one of us. It’s dangerous to go spreading gossip. You have to be careful when police are involved.’
‘I was very careful, but I have a right to talk to my friends about what I’m worried about, and I am still very anxious about Kathleen.’
‘This is not about what you think you need. It’s about not offending our friends and, even more importantly, Patrick and Conor. They need protecting from rumours and speculation that will hurt them.’
Beth clenched her fists in frustration. ‘You talk as if I am enjoying all this, but I hate the whole thing. I want to ignore it all, but how can I? I believe Kathleen was being intimidated by one of our friends. I don’t want that to be the case, but it is. Gemma made me realise nothing is as simple as I want it to be.’
‘What did she say?’
Beth swallowed hard. ‘She told me that Kathleen had an affair.’
Sami coughed, as if choking on his biscuit, grabbed his glass of water and sipped it, before asking, ‘Where the hell did she get that idea?’
‘Gemma told me she’d found Kathleen crying in the toilet one evening. Kathleen was going on about some man and how it had all been a terrible mistake.’
‘A combination of Kathleen drunk and Gemma’s gossip: that’s a very reliable basis for a story!’
‘Gemma was sure Kathleen was serious.’
‘That’s ridiculous. I don’t know where she got that from. You mustn’t go around saying this to anyone.’
Beth held her fist in the air. She never thumped or hit things, but she was desperate to do so. ‘You keep telling me what to do, what not to do. If you would trust me, talk to me, it would stop my mind running away with me.’
Sami shook his head. ‘You need to control yourself, stop playing games. I need to go to bed. My head is thumping.’
He stormed off and Beth stood very still, staring at the table. Why was Sami so angry with her? Why wouldn’t he talk to her?
She went over to the window, and she allowed the dark thoughts out into the light. People joked about it; she had laughed it off, but it never went away. Sami and Kathleen. No, Kathleen’s affair had been with someone on her course. But the thought boomeranged back. Gemma had only been guessing. It could be someone much closer to home. ‘Innocent’, Imogen called her. What if Kathleen had never been in hospital, and they’d been in some fancy hotel room? Beth felt her throat constrict; her heart was pounding. It couldn’t be, could it? Sami wasn’t the type. She stopped. How many women had thought that before they’d found out their husband was being unfaithful?
Alex had returned to his flat. Coming back after a night with people was always the time he felt most alone. He had taken his key out of the old filing cabinet drawer on the landing and let himself in. The flat was very tidy. He had hung up pictu
res, but still it felt cold and lonely. Alex went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of whisky: one more drink wouldn’t hurt.
Slumping into his armchair, he thought about Beth. He could see Kathleen’s death was playing on her mind. When he’d met her that day at the ford and again tonight, he’d seen the intensity with which she talked about Kathleen. What exactly had Kathleen been saying the night before she died?
Alex picked up his wedding photograph that always stood on the table next to his chair. That had been an incredible day, one that made him fully realise the new world he had entered. He’d not grown up in a wealthy family. Concepts like ‘money is no object’, and ‘only the best will do’, were foreign to him. And it wasn’t just money: it was taste. Fortunately, when it came to the wedding, all he’d had to do was turn up, wear the clothes picked out for him, read the speech that had been gone through by Amy and the family. He’d wondered if it was like that for royalty when they attended something as a guest of honour. The one thing he had done was buy that butterfly necklace and earrings for Amy. He had used his savings, had had to sell some of the most valuable coins his father had left, to afford them. He had been shocked when Amy gave the necklace away. He tried to tell himself it was Amy’s way of thanking Kathleen, but at the very least it had been an uncharacteristically insensitive thing to do.
Kathleen had come into both their lives as something warm, something soft in a hard world during a hard, dark time. Amy had been slowly, physically and mentally, crumbling. She became more and more dependent, and he had been exhausted, never able to relax. When he went to work, despite having carers in for Amy, he felt he should be home. Giving up his practice had been devastating, but he had made his reputation and had made sure he was doing locum work in the right places. However, he couldn’t go on courses, attend lectures, be seen in the right places. Wherever he was, he was always waiting, watching, checking his phone. There were all the near misses, the accidents, forgetting to turn off taps, ovens, to lock doors. He’d tried everything to make Amy’s life accident proof: he organised her clothes, her medication, everything. His escape each week had been coming here to the island to cover for Sami, his Tuesday night here in the flat an oasis. His one night off when someone else cared for Amy, once a month, that person being Kathleen. He’d been so grateful, but it was more than that. He knew he looked forward to the times Kathleen worked with him too much.
However, like he had said to Beth, Kathleen was complicated. There had been a side to her he could never have imagined. He saw it too late. He felt the anger bubble up inside him, burning his stomach, his throat. He stumbled to the kitchen, and refilled his glass.
11
Beth was woken by Sami, already dressed in running gear.
‘I’m off.’ He paused, then sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Look, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Everything has got on top of me lately.’
‘You’re out early?’ she said, not smiling.
‘Lots to do. Adam is coming into work today, by the way. If he was awake, I’d have taken him up to the Hendersons’. The grass is so long, I need to mow it.’
It was a relief when Sami left. Beth opened the curtains, let the light in, but it didn’t let anything even close to happiness in with it. She had slept badly, throwing around the questions about Sami. She would allow anger and despair to take turns as she allowed for the possibility of her husband having an affair with her best friend, but before she could go over that edge a voice would hold her back. What if she was wrong? Then she felt guilty for even contemplating such a thing.
Some women she knew would have already confronted their husband, demanded the truth, but that wasn’t Beth’s way. In any case, even to question someone’s fidelity was a massive step. Even if they could prove they’d done nothing, surely your relationship would never be quite the same again?
Beth was greeted as always downstairs by Ollie wagging his tail and asking for fuss. Leaning down she stroked him, trying to catch his enthusiasm for a new day. ‘At least you’re pleased to see me,’ she said, and smiled at him.
She checked her phone. There was a message from Patrick.
Would you be able to come over some time to help sort out some of Kathleen’s clothes?
She groaned. Not today. Of all the things to do. Then she stopped: that wasn’t fair. Patrick was suffering heartbreak. If this is what he needed help with today, what right had she to say no? She replied that she was free later that day, and it was arranged that she would go in the afternoon.
Layla came into the kitchen.
‘We’ll leave about half eight?’ said Beth.
Layla didn’t answer. They were back into the row about Layla not being allowed out the night before to see Conor’s band. Elsa had probably been texting Layla about it, winding her up.
‘I could make pancakes or something.’
‘Don’t bother,’ said Layla as she stormed out.
Beth knew some people thought you could let these rebuffs float past you, that you could rationalise that ‘this is the way teenagers are’, but just because she didn’t shout back didn’t mean she didn’t feel angry and hurt.
Beth went out and fed the guinea pigs, mumbling, ‘Remember the day you came home, Layla said “Mum, I promise you, you will never ever have to clean or feed them.” Great, eh? It’s a good job I never believed her. Maybe even a crap mother has her uses.’
Beth could see Ollie waiting for his walk. ‘You have a treat this morning. We’ll take Layla to her exam and then me and you will go up Mottistone Down.’
She had breakfast and showered, then knocked on Adam’s bedroom door.
‘I’m taking Layla to her exams soon. Have a good day at the pharmacy. Don’t forget it’s the St Patrick’s meal tonight.’
‘That again?’
‘You don’t have to come, but—’
‘It’s all right. I’ll probably come.’
They were about to leave when Sami returned. He’d bought a copy of the local paper but put it on the table still folded. They both ignored it.
‘I’m taking Layla in a minute. Patrick has asked me to go and help sort out Kathleen’s things.’
‘OK. Good luck with that.’
Sami disappeared upstairs. Anxiously, Beth looked at the time. Layla stomped down the stairs.
They drove in silence to Freshwater and reached the end of the road where Layla’s flute teacher lived and where the flute and singing exams would take place.
‘Drop me here,’ said Layla.
Beth pulled in and Layla got out. ‘Good luck,’ she called, but Layla turned and said, ‘Don’t wait. I’ll get the bus back,’ and walked away.
Beth gripped the steering wheel in irritation. Fine, Layla could get the bus. There was only one every hour or so, so she would have to wait.
‘Come on, Ollie. Let’s go. Hopefully, she will be in a better mood later.’
Beth took Ollie up on to Mottistone Down. She hadn’t been up there for a while. The fresh air and wonderful views welcomed her like a warm blanket. It was a bright spring day. In the distance the sea was dark blue, the sky clear above it. Opposite, she could see the woods, and even from here she could hear the woodpeckers, the pheasants. There was no one else up there and so she let Ollie off the lead. Nose down, he dashed around, gathering the smells. Beth stopped and watched a kestrel, hovering, wondering how it stayed so still in the winds, then saw it dive, arrow shaped, into the long grass.
Up here she could breathe. Her mother’s house had been on the outskirts of Swansea, well inland from the sea, but at the same time it never felt as if the sea was far away. The house had originally been the farmhouse of her mother’s parents. Beth’s early years had been idyllic. As she walked, she realised it was a time of her life she often forgot. It was hard to get past things that happened in her teens, but up here on the downs she sometimes felt in touch with it again.
However, today nothing could push away her anxieties about Sam
i. He was such a straightforward person. In a world of nuance and greys he had always been her rock. Or so she had thought.
Was sleeping with Sami Kathleen’s ‘big mistake’? Had Sami loved Kathleen? Had he slept with her because she was prettier, thinner, more seductive, than Beth? But Kathleen said she’d regretted the fling: that would mean she hadn’t wanted to leave Patrick. Sami may have loved her, but he’d have discovered that she didn’t feel the same.
Now, of course, if Kathleen had said she was going to confess all to Patrick, if Sami’s infidelity had been made public, that confession could mean the end of her marriage, of Sami’s reputation in the village, his parents’ approval. He would lose everything and not even have Kathleen. How far would he go to prevent Kathleen ruining his life? Had Sami been playing the part of a happily married man all these years?
The brash bleating of lambs in a distant field temporarily distracted Beth, and as her mind was dragged back to her thoughts about Sami, she frantically tried to find a sense of perspective. She had to remind herself of the Sami she knew. He was not a violent, cruel man. Surely, whatever Kathleen said, it was impossible to live with someone for eighteen years and have them completely wrong?
Beth looked around for Ollie. ‘Come on. Enough of this. Let’s get on.’ She attached his lead, returned to the car and then took Ollie home. The house was still: no sign of Layla. Beth tried ringing her but there was no answer, so she sent a text.
Hope the exams went well. I am going over to help Patrick this afternoon. See you later. Mum x
As she sent it, she thought again of the effect of Sami having had an affair on the children, her home. She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat. No. She couldn’t go there: not again, not now.
The rest of the morning flittered away, questions still rushing around in her head, each shouting for attention.
Later that day Beth drove over to Patrick’s. She rang the bell but no one answered. Beth didn’t know what to do. It was very isolated out there, and different to the rural quiet Beth had grown up in. In the daytime there had been the sounds of farm animals, tractors; somewhere someone could be seen in the distance, working, walking their dog; but this was different. There was no one, and the only sounds were a few small birds high in the trees.
