The Man I Fell in Love With

by Kate Field

‘This isn’t what I had in mind when I suggested we should have a drink together,’ Owen said, handing over my wine. ‘We’re under scrutiny.’

  ‘Are we?’ I looked around, expecting to see Daisy watching, but instead found Leo gazing our way.

  ‘Your ex-husband?’ Owen indicated Leo, and I nodded, unable to say the word that would acknowledge that ‘ex’. ‘You’re still on good terms?’

  ‘Yes. We’ll always be friends.’

  ‘Friends?’ I frowned, unable to read Owen’s tone, and wary of making a wrong assumption about what he was asking. This was a whole new world to me: men had only ever been men, not potential boyfriends or partners. I didn’t know the rules of this game, or understand the language in which it was played. Owen helped me out. ‘I’m a simple soul, Mary. I like you. I don’t like complications. If it may prove to be a temporary split …’

  ‘It won’t.’ No one could see Clark and Leo together and have any doubts about that.

  ‘And that other man?’

  I turned to where Owen indicated, assuming he was referring to Clark. My stomach heaved, and not in reaction to the hotpot. It was Ethan. Ethan was here, tonight, in Stoneybrook, not in New York. So that reaction earlier had been to Ethan … I applied my mental blinkers, shutting out that thought.

  ‘Ethan. Leo’s brother.’

  ‘I suppose it will take time for them to accept you have separate lives now.’ Not just them. I smiled, an automatic rather than meaningful gesture, but Owen leant forward. ‘Are you still up for that drink? Perhaps without the minders?’

  Even I couldn’t misunderstand that. I hesitated, feeling as if the room had fallen silent, and every pair of eyes and ears were waiting for my response – including mine. My gaze wandered over Owen’s face, past honest brown eyes, a straightforward smile, and on to a delightfully ordinary neck.

  ‘Yes. What about Tuesday?’

  ‘Are you trying to get squiffy, Mary Black? The music isn’t that bad.’

  Warm breath blew against my ear, and I turned to face Ethan. He still wore the smile of the thirteen-year-old boy I had first met: confident, cheeky, effortless.

  ‘I love the music. The arrangements are amazing.’

  A trio of young men were playing jazzed-up versions of old Lancashire songs with extraordinary energy and vigour. It was a mesmerising performance, and had drawn in most of the people who had remained outside after supper. I had been queuing at the bar when they started, and had been too entranced to move away.

  ‘The arrangements? Or the handsome young men in dinner jackets?’ Ethan laughed. ‘You always were much more cultural than me.’

  ‘Surely not even you can have lived in New York for so long without some culture rubbing off. You have Broadway, the Met, the MOMA …’

  ‘And the New York Yankees. Much more my thing. There’s more drama in a baseball game than in any Broadway play.’

  ‘Have you ever been to a Broadway play?’

  ‘Yes. Don’t look so surprised. I made it all the way through The Phantom of the Opera, and I’d only had two beers. I needed more than two to recover afterwards.’

  He laughed, and it was impossible not to join him. This was good; this was normal. I hadn’t looked at or thought about his neck once.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Mum gave me her ticket. She thought one of the family should support Leo.’

  ‘Did you hear him?’

  ‘I arrived just in time and lurked at the side.’

  ‘I didn’t notice you.’

  ‘No. You never did notice anyone else when Leo was around.’

  That was true; or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I had chosen not to look. Except once … but I mustn’t think about that.

  ‘I actually meant what are you doing here, in England. Audrey said you were coming over in the summer.’

  ‘I brought it forward. I wanted to see how she was.’

  ‘And how is she?’ I asked, poised to be offended if he suggested in any way that I wasn’t looking after her properly.

  ‘She’s great.’ He smiled, reading me far too well, even after all this time. ‘I knew you’d care for her. But you shouldn’t have to. She’s our responsibility.’

  Briefly he rested his hand on my arm, softening the rejection that his words might have given.

  ‘I don’t give a stuff about whose responsibility it is,’ I said. ‘I do it out of love. You won’t stop me.’

  ‘Then we’ll do it together. I’ll be your humble servant, Mary Black.’

  He clicked his heels together, and bent over in a deep bow, flicking a glance full of mischief at me as he did. Then his face and body straightened as he looked over my shoulder. ‘Hello, Leo.’

  ‘Ethan.’

  ‘Great performance earlier.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  I swivelled from one to the other. They weren’t close – they were too different for that – but this clipped formality was new. Had something happened between them? Leo clearly wasn’t surprised to see Ethan here, although he hadn’t told me that he was coming home.

  ‘Mary, I’ve spoken to Clark, and we wondered about next Friday,’ Leo said.

  ‘Friday? Do you want to do something with the children? Because Ava has maths clinic after school …’

  ‘No, not for the children. For the dinner party.’ I had forgotten all about it. Leo had mentioned the dinner party at his book launch a few weeks ago, but hadn’t raised the subject since then. ‘You’ll be free, on a Friday night, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Of course I was. When did I ever do anything? Tuesday, I remembered with a jolt. I was going out on Tuesday too, on my date with Owen. Where might that lead? I brushed my hair off my face, conscious that Leo and Ethan were watching me. A memory raced into my head, only a snatch but so clear that I shivered, feeling again the cold night air, the soft rain tickling my cheeks, the heat of a bonfire on my skin, and the gentle touch of a hand brushing aside my hair …

  ‘Friday,’ I repeated, fixing my gaze on Leo. ‘That would be lovely.’

  Chapter 8

  ‘Come on, Daisy, you read the glossy magazines. What’s the dress code for a dinner party with your husband and his gay lover?’

  ‘It’s never come up in a magazine I’ve read.’ Daisy stared into my wardrobe. She’d been doing this for the last five minutes, as if by the power of her stare she could replace all the clothes with new ones. ‘When did you last buy anything new?’

  ‘1998.’ For a moment, I thought she believed me. Were my clothes that bad? ‘Stop pulling that face. You’re acting scarily like my mother.’

  ‘Not even Irene would wear this.’ Daisy pulled out a paisley print dress, which I had probably last worn in the difficult months after Ava’s birth, when I still thought the tummy and droopy breasts were temporary afflictions. ‘Do you have a wardrobe full of fashionable clothes in another room?’

  ‘What about the grey?’ I pulled out the usual jersey dress. Daisy wrinkled her nose.

  ‘To say it’s on its last legs would be a compliment.’ She rifled through the rail, which took about five seconds. ‘You do realise, don’t you, that one of the advantages of divorce is that you have an extra half of a wardrobe to fill with new clothes?’

  ‘I bought a new dress for Christmas. But Clark has already seen that. I don’t want him to think I only have one decent thing. And why do I need new clothes? I never go anywhere.’

  ‘This is your second night out in a week.’ Daisy settled down on the bed, making herself comfortable in a way that didn’t bode well. Sure enough, she began an interrogation. ‘Talking of nights out, are you going to tell me how it went with Owen on Tuesday?’

  ‘It was fine. Nice.’ Terrifying, if she wanted the entire truth.

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘We went to the Inn at Whitewell and had a couple of drinks.’

  ‘That was a long way to go. Good choice though. Very romantic.’

 
‘Very private. He wanted to avoid any students or parents.’ Or any husbands or brothers-in-law.

  ‘And you had fun? It was a success?’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  I removed my jeans and T-shirt, and took the grey dress off the hanger, ready to put it on. Daisy looked me up and down, and went over to the chest of drawers.

  ‘Have you no decent lingerie?’ she asked, rooting around my underwear. ‘Leo must have bought you some for Christmas or birthday presents.’

  ‘No. He generally bought books.’

  Daisy held up a saggy bra and granny knickers.

  ‘Fond of grey, aren’t you? Please don’t tell me you still wear these monstrosities. Although those things you have on now aren’t much better. See how different it could look …’

  She heaved up my bra straps, fighting gravity. As she did, the bedroom door opened and Jonas walked in.

  ‘Mum …’ He stared at the sight in front of him – and what a sight it must have been for an innocent young boy. ‘Not you as well,’ he muttered and backed out. Daisy laughed.

  ‘You need a lock on that door. What if you’d been in here with Owen?’

  ‘We’ve only had one drink!’ I pulled on the grey dress, ignoring Daisy’s disapproving tut.

  ‘Two drinks,’ she corrected. ‘And surely a kiss?’

  ‘No! Well,’ I conceded, ‘a kiss on the cheek.’ It wasn’t where Owen had aimed for, at the end of the evening, but I had chickened out and turned my head at the last moment.

  ‘Oh, Mary, you’re hopeless. You’ve devoted so much time to studying Alice Hornby that you’re acting like a Victorian virgin. You’re allowed to have sex with a man who isn’t your husband.’

  ‘Being allowed to do something doesn’t mean I want to. Anyway,’ I continued, turning away from Daisy’s sympathetic expression, ‘whether Alice Hornby died a virgin is one of her greatest mysteries. There’s a letter …’

  ‘Spare me the lecture. You didn’t go on about her to Owen, did you? You’ve spent so long in a bubble with Leo that you’ve forgotten not everyone is nuts about the Hornby woman.’

  ‘I can’t not mention her. It’s my job.’ I opened my jewellery box, took out the green pendant necklace that Leo had given me for Christmas, and fastened it round my neck.

  ‘Colour! At last!’ Daisy said, nodding in approval. She probably wouldn’t have approved if she had known where it came from, or that I was wearing it as a gesture of loyalty to Leo. ‘We’re going shopping before your next date. There will be another, won’t there? You haven’t scared him off with your prudery?’

  ‘As you’ve seen, removing my clothes would have scared him off far more effectively than keeping them on. We’re meeting to walk the dogs tomorrow, if the weather’s fine.’ I spritzed perfume, brushed my hair and dug out my smart pair of heels. ‘I can’t put it off any longer. Will I do?’

  ‘Even in that dress, you look gorgeous.’ Daisy hugged me. ‘Remember – you’re a single woman, not an abandoned wife. Go dazzle.’

  Leo met me at his new front door, looking smart in chinos that I had bought him and a shirt that I hadn’t. We kissed cheeks politely – such a versatile gesture, capable of bookending the start and end of a relationship. His cheek was soft under my lips, so soft that I suspected it must be the effect of moisturiser. I had to hand it to Clark – he had smartened Leo up in a way that I had never managed.

  ‘This is nice,’ I said brightly, following Leo into a large space that served as living and dining room. Huge floor-to-ceiling doors opened onto a balcony overlooking the Bridgewater Canal. Inside, the room was pale, shiny, and minimal, all blond wood, white furniture, chrome, and glass. I couldn’t imagine Jonas and Ava staying here. Did they have to shower and put on one of those boiler suits that TV detectives wear, so they didn’t contaminate the place? I cringed at what Clark must have thought of our house at Christmas; but still, I wouldn’t swap my cosy chaos for this place. Six months ago I would never have dreamt that Leo would either.

  Clark came in from the balcony, where he had been talking to two men and a woman I didn’t recognise.

  ‘Hello, Mary. We’re glad you could come.’ Only I seemed to feel any awkwardness over that ‘we’. ‘Come and meet the others while Leo gets you a drink.’

  He led me out to the balcony and introduced his colleague, Pete, and wife Liz, and Andrew, an old friend from university. A few minutes later the final guests arrived, another married couple who had once been guests at my house, and who clearly had no idea what to make of me now being a guest like them.

  As Leo and Clark had work connections with the two couples, it was inevitable that I would fall into conversation with Andrew.

  ‘Incredible view, isn’t it?’ he said, leaning against the balcony rail. I nodded, while making a mental note to tell Jonas and Ava never to do that. In fact, perhaps I should sweep the whole flat for potential hazards. ‘I assume you’re a friend of Leo’s as we’ve never met before. Do you work with him at the university?’

  ‘No, I …’ Why had this not occurred to me, that I might need to explain my presence? I had been too vain, supposing that everyone would know who I was – that my reputation would have gone before me. How demoralising, to discover that Leo hadn’t thought me worth mentioning. And how aggravating, a rebellious part of me argued, that he hadn’t thought to smooth the evening for me by pre-warning the other guests. Caught on the hop, I had nothing to offer but the truth. ‘I’m his wife.’

  ‘Leo’s wife?’ Andrew stared at me as if he’d just noticed that I had green scales and a horn. ‘You’re the last person I’d have expected to see here. Lower down the list than Elvis.’ He laughed. ‘Good for you. Not many wives would have been so tolerant. Mine certainly wasn’t.’

  ‘You mean you’re …’ I trailed off, not sure what the PC word to use was.

  ‘No, absolutely not. My ex-wife was intolerant about much more minor things than that. Leo’s had it easy.’

  We both glanced over at Leo. He and Clark were watching us, but swiftly looked away and started talking.

  ‘That wasn’t suspicious, was it?’ Andrew said. ‘Do you think we might have been set up?’

  ‘Set up?’

  ‘Hadn’t you noticed that all the other guests are couples?’

  ‘No.’ Or rather, I had, but I hadn’t attached any significance to it – certainly not the type that Andrew was suggesting. The idea that Leo might have tried to set me up with a blind date was preposterous. Wasn’t it? I gazed over at Leo again, and he smiled and gave me a nod – the sort of encouraging nod I had seen him give the children a thousand times.

  ‘No such thing as a free dinner,’ Andrew said. ‘Shall we get it out of the way and then we can enjoy the rest of the evening? No offence, Mary, but I didn’t come here looking for a partner, and I don’t think I’ve found one.’

  It was hard not to take some offence at being rejected after I’d spoken less than a dozen words. Perhaps Daisy had been right about the dress. But that was besides the point – the point being, what was Leo doing, trying to pair me off with this stranger? Before I could go and tackle him, Clark called us in for dinner. It wasn’t a surprise when I was ushered to a seat next to Andrew.

  ‘Fancy seeing you here,’ he said with a grin.

  Andrew had been right: removing the awkwardness from the start meant we could talk about what interested us with no pressure about how we were being perceived. Of course I ended up talking about Alice Hornby, and my plans to visit as many bookshops as I could in Lancashire to plug Leo’s book and arrange publicity events.

  ‘My cousin owns a bookshop in Bickton,’ Andrew said. ‘Wilsher Books. Is it on your list?’

  ‘Near the bottom. I’m starting with the closer ones first, and don’t they specialise in children’s books?’

  ‘Yes, but not exclusively. I’ll give you Janey’s number. Tell her I insist she meet you.’

  I handed over my phone, and Andrew tapped in the details. Leo watched
from the other end of the table. I waited until he went into the kitchen at the end of the meal, then followed and closed the door.

  ‘Is this a blind date?’ I demanded. ‘Are you trying to fob me off with Andrew?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say fob you off,’ Leo said. He smiled, but that charming, innocent smile wasn’t going to work this time. ‘We thought you might get along. He’s a good man.’

  ‘I don’t care if he’s an amazing man, or even Superman. Why would you think that I’m looking for a date?’

  ‘I don’t want you to be on your own.’ He took my hand and stroked across my tense knuckles. He had probably touched me more since becoming gay than in the last year of our marriage. ‘I’m well aware that it’s my fault you are on your own. If I can help change that, I will.’

  ‘By finding me someone else.’ Not by coming back himself. ‘You’re not my pimp. Don’t demean yourself by acting like one.’

  ‘Mary!’ I pulled back my hand and turned my head away so that I didn’t have to see the hurt expression on his face. He had hurt me more. How could it mean so little to him, to imagine me with another man?

  ‘Doesn’t it bother you?’ I snapped, unable to let the point drop. I might as well show him my true nature. What use was pretence now? ‘Would you not care if I went home with Andrew tonight, let him kiss me in all those places that only your lips have ever touched, let his bare skin glide over mine, let him put his …’

  ‘Don’t.’ His voice wavered; tears glittered in his eyes. ‘Yes, it would bother me. It wrenches my heart to think about it. But so does the alternative – that you would never know companionship or happiness again.’

  I hugged him, slotting into my space as if I had never been away, and that’s how Clark found us. He put his hand on Leo’s shoulder, and the simple affection in the gesture made me pull away.

  ‘Shall I go?’ Clark asked.

  ‘No.’ For a moment Leo leant in towards Clark so their shoulders brushed. He managed a smile. ‘I haven’t progressed far with the coffee.’

  ‘I’ll do it. Mary, will you help?’

  Laughter drifted in as Leo returned to the guests. I waited, watching Clark fill a tray with smart coffee cups, wondering why he wanted me to stay behind. We had never been alone before.