‘Perhaps she wants to apologize for not making it back for Nina’s funeral?’
‘Who knows? Deborah provided the contact list. It was all a bit of a blur. Still is, if I’m honest.’
I need to pry with a different approach. Stuart genuinely seems as surprised as me at Camilla’s return.
‘Nina’s admin is in a bit of a mess.’
‘I didn’t realize, otherwise I’d have done it myself. Sounds stressful, send anything that’s a pain my way.’
I’m not stressed, I’m seething, but there are no words, no decent ways of breaking the news to him that his perfect wife seems to have had secrets. It’s not the right time – not yet – though temptation to blurt it out is festering. I can’t give Stuart any reason to dislike me.
‘No, it’s fine, it’s nothing I can’t manage. I like a challenge and the children need as much of your attention as you can give them right now.’
I invent a call I need to make as the urge to be alone for a few minutes, to try to grasp at memories, takes an overwhelming hold.
Stuart barely acknowledges my excuse; he, too, seems lost in thought. Our dinner, later than planned, is a struggle. We both make an effort, but are careful with our words, flitting from one light, meaningless conversational topic to another, as though each of us is afraid to drop our guard.
Grateful when I can finally slide beneath my duvet, I reach for my usual saviour – books, but after attempting two new, very different ones, I admit defeat. The words won’t stick as I reread the opening sentences.
Long after midnight, I take up Christian’s suggestion of journaling. I vent until gone 2:00 a.m. I hide the notebook beneath my pillow – for now – but it’s an uncomfortable feeling having evidence of my thoughts and mixed feelings about Nina in a physical form. I tear out some of the pages and rewrite them in a more cryptic fashion. I hope this isn’t homework, that Christian doesn’t expect me to take my private ramblings along to our sessions. He and I won’t last long if that’s the case.
However, the exercise turns out to be useful because something becomes clear: the downside of loyalty is that it holds you back. Now that I’m free from some of its grip, I’m no longer restrained.
Chapter Nine
‘When did you find out about Nina?’
We are strolling through our garden en masse. A walk seemed like the best way to ease the tension of the forced chit-chat, not just among us three adults either. Stuart, in particular, seems slightly ill at ease and I assumed that the children would just get on and play but it seems shyness and age differences play a factor, too.
I’ve lent Camilla my wellies because she pitched up in high-heeled suede boots. Actually, the wellies were Nina’s, but they’re black and indistinguishable, so it’s not as if it’s obvious. They were new, she’d hardly worn them, and she’s only one size bigger than me. I didn’t mean to wear them, it felt weird at first, but I discovered – too late – that one of mine had a hole in the bottom before the school run one day. It was pouring, I had no choice but to borrow hers which had been abandoned in the garage. By the time I’d trudged to school and back I realized that there was nothing wrong in doing so. A boot is a boot; any weirdness relating to previous ownership is all in the mind.
‘Not that long ago,’ Camilla replies.
I’m gently herding everyone towards the fence at the back which is easy to climb over so we can wander through the forest. I’ve promised Louise (I refuse to call her Lulu) that we’ll probably see ponies. Stuart is slightly ahead of us with the children. Felix is waving a big stick in the air and every now and then Em screeches in fear of being whacked.
‘Em, darling, just try to keep out of his way.’
I’m a little frustrated that she hasn’t figured this out for herself yet.
‘Roughly how long ago?’ I say, turning my attention back to Camilla.
I’m not letting her get away with such blatant evasiveness. The timing of her unexpected reappearance means she’s going to have to put up with the inevitable curiosity.
‘Maybe a few months or so. It was such a shock. I don’t like to think about it.’
‘Why didn’t you come to the funeral?’
‘I didn’t know then.’
Liar. The on-and-off emails between her and Nina were written in the five months leading to her passing away.
‘Really? No one told you? How did you find out?’
‘Maybe it was a bit before. Like I say, I don’t like to think about it. It all seemed to happen so quickly and it was . . . devastating.’
‘I see. No, I don’t actually. I think it’s odd.’
‘I’m sorry you find it odd. How is Stuart?’
‘Coping,’ I say.
‘And what’s with you and him?’
‘Nothing. I promised Nina I’d stick around, help ease them through the worst parts.’
She stops.
‘Marie, I know we didn’t always see eye to eye but . . . is it a good idea? I must admit seeing you in the same house as him, in Nina’s world, it’s uncomfortable.’
I focus ahead. Louise is a mini-Camilla, strikingly so. Long blonde hair almost flows behind her as the younger two follow her, Pied Piper-like.
‘I know what I’m doing.’ Her turn for an inquisition now. ‘Where’s Louise’s father?’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘Things usually are,’ I say. ‘That’s why it’s best not to judge others’ situations, in my opinion.’
‘You haven’t changed, Marie,’ she says. ‘I suspect Nina knew you’d be amazing with the children, but she clearly didn’t fully appreciate just how much you’d try to take over. It’s about balance, surely? Stuart always was and still appears to be capable. What does Deborah think about the situation?’
‘She’s very happy with it,’ I lie.
Deborah said something very similar to Camilla. It’s deeply insulting and disconcerting, like they’re all conspiring against me. I think back to the conversations Nina and I had as we reach the edge of the forest. We talked a lot about Ben and how he’d make a good father. I wonder now, was Nina testing me to make sure that I really did love Ben before she made me promise to look out for her family? She had nothing to worry about at the time; I never used to think of Stuart in that way. He’s . . . well, he’s just Stuart. Admittedly, I didn’t tell Nina about all the relationship cracks Ben and I experienced because I wanted our relationship to be more like hers. Sometimes, when I used to photograph weddings, I’d compare them to Nina and Stuart. They were my relationship barometer.
‘I didn’t know that you were the book group host or that it was Nina’s old house. I was so grateful that Tamsin was friendly. I’d been worried about Lulu making friends, finding all the changes a struggle. I was going to get in touch with you eventually. I was waiting for the right time. I wasn’t sure how you’d react towards me.’
I don’t believe her.
‘Well, what a coincidence,’ I say. ‘You couldn’t make it up.’
Camilla freezes as a dog runs up to us, sniffing our feet.
‘She’s scared of them,’ I say, giving the owner an apologetic smile.
I wish I hadn’t said that because by showing Camilla that I remember little details about her, it reinforces the facade that we are great buddies with a rich and warm shared history.
As the Jack Russell is called away, Camilla takes the opportunity to break away from me and catch up with Stuart. No matter, I fall into step alongside Louise, hoping she’ll be a better source of information. But no, she is a closed book, just like her mother.
‘Is your dad coming over any time soon?’ I ask.
She shrugs.
‘He must miss you.’
She doesn’t bite.
We walk for longer than I’d intended and get caught in heavy rain, mud making the journey back in the dying light tricky. We coax the younger children into bed after hot chocolates, another pizza dinner for them and a warm bath. While Louise is occupied
watching a movie, Stuart, Camilla and I thaw properly over glasses of red wine.
‘So, you became an architect . . .’ says Stuart to Camilla.
The tone in which he says it is annoying because he sounds just a little too impressed. I don’t understand it. Anyone can be an expert in their chosen field, it’s how the world is. Designing houses and offices can’t be that difficult once you’ve mastered the art.
‘Has the transfer from Canada to here been plain sailing?’ he continues.
I don’t listen to her reply because dormant envy is worming its way into my consciousness. Two’s company, three’s a crowd. Stuart’s fascination with Camilla not only irks, it feels disloyal now that he’s aware of what she did. Old philosophies are usually the best, and right now, the whole ‘friends close, enemies closer’ approach makes perfect sense.
‘How about we meet up at the Christmas market and grab some lunch?’ I say to Camilla. ‘I can invite some of my friends; it will help break the ice within a wider circle, give you a chance to meet others?’
Camilla looks as uninspired as I feel. She hesitates. ‘I’ll check my diary and let you know, thank you.’
‘Shall we order in a curry?’ says Stuart. ‘I’m starving!’
‘I’d better get Lulu home, thanks,’ says Camilla. ‘I’d love for us to keep in touch. I need some tax advice. Do you work solely from home or are you office-based, too?’
‘Both,’ says Stuart. ‘I’ll give you my card.’
Great. Now, I need to keep an eye on Stuart’s work calendar, too. Camilla is desperate to get Stuart on her own and I need to know why. It can’t be anything favourable when it comes to me, or she’d be more upfront.
‘Lulu!’ Camilla calls out. ‘Come and say goodbye and thank you.’
I let Stuart show them out, holding back so as not to appear possessive. It’s hard, especially when I overhear Camilla telling Louise on the way out to ‘wait in the car please, darling’.
I clear up the glasses and open the menu of Stuart’s favourite takeaway place on my phone. I order his usual – Madras – and an aubergine curry for me. While waiting for him to return (how long can it take to say goodbye, it’s taking all of my self-control not to eavesdrop), it dawns on me that I really only have one choice.
Through therapy, I’ve learned to control the things I can and try to accept the things I can’t. (Well, kind of, it’s not always that easy or simple, if I’m honest.) I’ve plenty of places left to dig. I’m in the perfect position to find out what Camilla is trying to hide from me, and in doing so, I’ll find out exactly what Nina’s emails really meant. If I’m to integrate into my new life, I need to be aware of all the facts. Something about the way Camilla is behaving is off-kilter, and I will get to the bottom of it.
I rummage through my purse and pull out a coffee-chain loyalty card. It’s the best I can come up with. I head for the front door.
Stuart and Camilla stop talking as soon they see me approach them.
‘Did you drop this?’ I say to Camilla, handing her the card.
She barely glances at it. ‘No.’
The three of us stand still.
‘Perhaps we can all go boating come spring?’ says Stuart.
‘Definitely,’ I say. ‘The kids would love it.’
I smile my enthusiasm, too, even though it seems odd to be making spring plans before we’ve even celebrated Christmas. I’ve been missing an opportunity here, I realize. I love being out on the water. It’s a hobby of Stuart’s I can embrace. It will do us all good.
‘Not for us, thanks,’ says Camilla.
‘Oh?’ says Stuart.
‘Seasickness,’ she adds.
‘You or Lulu?’ he says.
‘Both.’
Times change. Some of our happiest moments in Ibiza were on Stuart’s friend’s speedboat.
‘I’ll call you,’ Camilla says to Stuart, touching his arm. ‘So nice to see you again. Nina would be proud of the way you’re dealing with things.’
Like she would know!
‘Poor Louise must be absolutely freezing in the car!’ I say.
There’s something I’m not quite grasping. Some of what Nina confided to me towards the end didn’t make total sense. I thought it did while I was emotionally caught up in the moment, but later – once it was too late – I realized that I hadn’t really understood what she meant. (Kind of like being introduced to someone at a party, who tells you what they do for a living, which makes perfect sense at the time, but when you next meet them, it dawns that you really have no idea.) Perhaps Nina had known that Camilla was planning to move back and feared her intentions around Stuart? Leopards, spots and all that.
My mind shoots off in multiple directions. What did Nina say? Something about sometimes being friends with people through necessity rather than personal choice. Perhaps Camilla and Stuart had a history, too? Unlikely. Stuart wasn’t Camilla’s type. Then again, no one thought he was Nina’s. Fresh determination bubbles. Camilla stole from me once in front of my very eyes; this time they’re wide open and watching, crocodile-like.
As Camilla’s blurring red tail lights fade into the darkness, I realize something important. Being here, it no longer feels solely about survival and loyalty; it’s about entitlement.
Chapter Ten
Stuart’s parents are not how I recall at all. If I had to describe Stuart in one word, the overriding one that springs to mind is serious. Kevin and Suzanne are friendly, fun and have such a brilliant sense of humour, I feel at immediate ease. The relief is immense. I realize that I’ve subconsciously been bracing myself to defend my role (yet again) and it’s a luxury to relax and not watch every word, to not continually walk the tightrope between genuine grief and allowing life to move on with Nina still very much cemented in our collective memories.
Kevin and Suzanne naturally have questions, but – and this is the bit I’ve found the most surprising, although it’s blindingly obvious – they didn’t truly know Nina. Of course they didn’t. The first time they met her was around the same time they met me at the wedding party Stuart and Nina held on a Brisbane beach. They flew out once for a few weeks after the births of both Felix and Em, but I wasn’t invited to the house at the time. Other than that, Nina was almost a stranger to them.
The joyous possibility that this is an area that I can excel in, that I don’t have to try to be as good or better than Nina, that I can actually be myself – on my own terms – is exhilarating. It opens my mind to fresh perspectives and possibilities.
From the outside looking in at Nina’s life, everything was near-enough perfect. In my mind, even her relationship with her mother-in-law was sickly sweet. I pictured long Skype calls every Sunday evening, thoughtful, beautifully wrapped parcels travelling halfway across the world every Christmas and birthday. We mistakenly, I realize now, forced Nina to defend her decision to marry Stuart (everyone thought she was too young to get tied down, especially to someone dull and older), so maybe she rigidly stuck to the script of an idealized version of her own life.
Cracks I never imagined existed criss-cross through my mental version of Nina. Maybe she realized that she wasn’t as wonderful as she liked to portray and knew, deep down, that I was the person who could protect her family from any mistakes she’d made. I’ve never really got the true meaning of schadenfreude. Until now. By experiencing a delicious sliver of it, it forces painful acknowledgement that I’m flawed. It’s not pleasant.
‘Stuart and Nina’s wedding day was everything I’d ever dreamed of,’ I say to Christian. I wonder how he can bear listening to all the random rubbish that people like me come out with: Stuart’s parents’ visit, my insecurities – all the while I try to hide my true feelings from him as I don’t want to appear like some sort of monster. If I had the choice, of course I’d rather that Nina was alive, that Felix and Emily had their mother, that I was with Ben and we had our own baby. I couldn’t have tried harder at times to make my relationship with him work; my consci
ence is clear on that one. But that’s not how things have worked out, and I’ve been forced to be adaptable and open-minded. Life moves on whether any of us like it or not.
However, I will continue to ramble about the wedding because I feel embarrassed by my dramatic revelation at the end of our last session. It was unnecessary. If I’m not ready to talk about my feelings surrounding Charlie’s tragic death and my shattered dreams, then I should leave well alone. I know this. I used to check in on social media for all my hospital and medical appointments, even if I was only having a blood test to check my hormone levels. At the time, I welcomed and enjoyed the attention and speculation. But some (OK, most) people got fed up after a while. Be open about the fact you’d like some sympathy, an online ‘friend’ had messaged, or keep quiet.
‘Nina and Stuart went all out with their arrangements. Stuart had lived in England for many years so there were friends and family to include on opposite sides of the world. They had a church ceremony followed by a hotel meal in London. Afterwards, a group of us flew to Brisbane for a two-day celebration.’
I describe everything to Christian: the beach (holiday-brochure perfect), the music (jazz – Stuart’s choice), the food (lobster, oysters and giant prawns served in huge bowls of crushed ice). ‘Nina wanted everyone to be as happy as her.’
‘And were you?’
‘What?’ I say, slightly irritated at the interruption.
‘Happy?’
I shrug. ‘I guess. I was happy for her. Perhaps not so much for me, but I suppose the benefit of Stuart being the type of person he is, I’d already sussed out that he wouldn’t try to come between us.’ I pause. ‘That did make things easier because I was single at the time. I didn’t meet Ben until a few years later on a dating site. I was very upfront about the kind of steady, reliable man I was looking for.’
I smile to show that I’m only half joking and Christian gives a weak one back. Awkward silence threatens to invade what, until now, has been a bearable session, so I talk about what I want to, which is still the wedding.
The Last Wife: The addictive and unforgettable new thriller from the Sunday Times bestseller Page 7