The Man I Fell in Love With

by Kate Field

  Jonas and Ava greeted the arrival of a long-lost grandfather with curiosity swiftly followed by indifference when they realised he didn’t have any scars, tattoos or other stereotypical attributes of a gangster. They seemed more baffled by the change in Mum: they were used to one laughing and one serious gran, but to find that they had practically swapped roles overnight took some getting used to. Mum wasn’t quite at the stage of calling everything marvellous, but it was surely only a matter of time.

  I had no idea whether I thought it was marvellous. Life had banged me over the head with so many surprises this year that I was struggling to come to terms with another. Of course I was thrilled that my dad was alive, and that he had never truly abandoned me. But the irony was inescapable: because I believed I’d been abandoned, I chose Leo; and because I chose Leo, my dad had stayed away. It felt as if I had spent my whole life being pushed along a road in a direction chosen by other people, stopping and turning only when they dictated I should. When was I going to choose my own path?

  I had never felt so alone as I did during those first days of my dad’s return. I wanted someone to talk to about it all, to explain how I was feeling and try to make sense of my muddled thoughts. I wanted someone to hug me and tell me that it would be okay. I wanted someone to sit with me and say nothing. And though Leo had filled that role for twenty-five years, it wasn’t him I wanted now. I needed Ethan.

  The days crawled by, and every day I read his email, and every day I closed it without replying. I had turned him down once, emphatically and agonisingly so, and what had changed since then? Nothing, I argued to myself: he was still exactly who he had always been. But then I thought of Alice Hornby, who had given up her chance of happiness because of fear of public opinion, and regretted it throughout her life. I thought of Mum and Dad, and how in trying to do the right thing they had made so many people unhappy. So perhaps my attitude on that had changed; but my fear hadn’t. It made no difference that now I knew Dad hadn’t deliberately left me; by his own admission, Ethan had. The memory stilled my fingers every time I started a reply.

  Two days before the flight was due to leave for New York, Audrey marched into the kitchen with what I could only call a determined air. I was relieved to see it. She hadn’t been herself lately – quiet and serious, more Leo than her usual Ethan.

  ‘Sit down, Mary,’ she said, pulling out a chair and steering me into it. ‘We need to talk about half term.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said, baffled but going along with it, as Audrey was displaying her rare steely side. ‘Do you want to do something?’

  ‘Why aren’t you going to New York?’

  I hadn’t expected that.

  ‘You know about New York?’

  ‘Of course I know. Ethan rings me several times a day to ask if there’s any sign of you packing.’

  ‘Does he?’ My heart did an unauthorised little somersault. ‘So … you know …’

  ‘Everything.’

  ‘Everything?’ I repeated, hoping it was a typical Audrey sweeping statement.

  ‘Everything,’ she said firmly, meeting my gaze. ‘Including the kiss at the bonfire on Ethan’s birthday, the kiss at Leo’s wedding, and all that went before and after.’

  That was a pretty comprehensive everything.

  ‘How long have you known?’

  ‘Since the beginning. Mary, my darling, I spent hours with all three of you, watching you grow up. How could I not know?’

  I leant my elbow on the kitchen table, and rested my head on my hand. This was not a conversation I would ever have chosen to have with Audrey. What must she think of me – have thought of me for all these years?

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I never meant to betray Leo. It was …’

  Audrey took my free hand and held it between hers.

  ‘You loved them both, in different ways. I understand that. And you chose the one you needed at the time. I understand that too. But what I don’t understand, having spent the summer watching you bloom as I always knew you could, is why you haven’t shown any signs of catching that flight in two days’ time.’

  She made it sound so simple – so simple that it was clear she didn’t know everything after all.

  ‘I’m not going to New York.’

  ‘Oh Mary, whatever can be stopping you?’

  ‘The children …’

  ‘Can stay with Leo.’

  ‘Dotty …’

  ‘Can stay with me, or Irene.’

  ‘The school bonfire …’

  ‘Daisy can take charge of that. Really, if those are your only objections, what are you waiting for? He won’t let us make any fuss about his birthday, because all he wants is to see you. He’s loved you for years.’

  ‘But he didn’t love me enough. You don’t know everything. You don’t know what they did. They discussed me like I was a piece of furniture, and agreed which of them I should be with. And Ethan was happy to walk away.’

  Audrey’s grip on my hand tightened.

  ‘He wasn’t happy, my darling, far from it. And he didn’t walk away.’ She squeezed my hand again and then let go. ‘I sent him away.’

  Slowly I sat back in my chair, and looked across the table. Audrey was sitting there – my lovely Audrey, the mother I had wished for, the friend I had counted on for so long. Her thick silver-blonde hair was piled into the usual messy bun, loose strands caressing her neck; watery blue eyes, a paler version of Ethan’s, gazed into mine. She looked the same – so how could she be saying something so odd?

  I didn’t speak, and waited for her to explain.

  ‘What could I do?’ she asked, twisting her wedding ring round her finger. ‘You were all so young. I loved you all equally, and how could I choose between you? Either two of you could be happy, or none at all. I did my best. I picked the two that I thought needed each other most. I adored my fragile little Mary from the first moment that Leo brought you here, so desperate to find security and stability. You needed Leo, and he needed you too, especially after his wobble in Oxford when he was so confused about who he was. So my poor sweet Ethan, the strongest of you all, was the one to lose out.’ Tears rolled down Audrey’s cheeks, leaving lines etched in her face powder. ‘He wanted to fight for you, Mary, and I wouldn’t let him. I arranged for him to have a home and a job with a friend of mine in New York, and bought him a one-way ticket. He didn’t choose to leave you, my darling. He chose to be loyal to his brother and to me.’

  She really did know everything – even, it seemed, Leo’s liaison in Oxford. And perhaps I should have been furious: the one person who I thought was innocent of secrets and manipulation had in fact played the major part. But all that trailed in the footnotes beyond the headline news: Ethan hadn’t chosen to leave me. Loyalty wasn’t a clear cut, black-and-white thing: it came in all forms and shades, sometimes solid, sometimes shifting, and sometimes conflicting. Perhaps I could trust him, after all …

  ‘It’s too late,’ I said, jumping up and sending my chair crashing to the floor. ‘My passport is probably years out of date. I don’t even know where it is.’

  ‘I do!’ Audrey opened the middle drawer of the dresser and held up my passport. I stared at her. She smiled. ‘We needed the details for your flight and for the visa waiver. All you need to do is pack, and go to the airport.’

  She waved my passport at me, tempting me. But before I could take a step towards it – or away – Jonas and Ava burst through the kitchen door.

  ‘Hi, Gran.’ Jonas let his bag fall to the floor where he stood, and grabbed an apple from the fridge. ‘What’s for tea?’

  ‘What’s going on?’ Ava, always the more astute when it came to atmosphere, looked between me and Audrey.

  ‘I need to speak to Uncle Ethan.’

  ‘Cool,’ Jonas said. ‘Is he back?’

  ‘No. He’s in New York.’

  Ava glared at me.

  ‘You said you wouldn’t go to New York.’

  ‘I said I wasn’t moving there, and I�
�m not. It would be a visit, nothing more.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘Promise.’ I kissed the top of her head, and took it as a good sign when she didn’t jerk away.

  ‘Is Uncle Ethan coming back with you?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I looked round at three of the people I loved most in the world. I couldn’t help myself: their opinion mattered. ‘What would you think if he did?’

  ‘I think it would be the most marvellous news,’ Audrey said, and she hugged me, thrusting my passport into my hand as she withdrew. ‘But you will always be a daughter to me, my darling, whatever happens.’

  ‘Jonas? Ava? You don’t think it would be too weird?’

  Jonas tossed his apple core into the bin.

  ‘Dad is married to a man. Gran is married to an ex-con. Nothing that happens round here can surprise us anymore.’ He grinned at me. ‘Go for it.’

  I looked at Ava, my heart fluttering with hope and fear. If she objected …

  ‘Fine,’ she said, and shrugged. ‘But I want a present from Tiffanys. And a Little Brown Bag from Bloomingdale’s. And …’

  The rest of her list was lost in a blur. I was going to New York …

  Chapter 28

  It was years since I’d visited Leo at work, but the classic Georgian mansion at the heart of the university, surrounded by ugly concrete tower blocks, had hardly changed since I’d been a student here myself. Students swarmed past me, anorak hoods up to ward off the rain, backpacks bulging with books, and the sight whisked me back twenty years; it was almost a shock to see a middle-aged Leo approaching, not the ambitious young fellow I was remembering.

  ‘Mary!’ he said, noticing me at last as I stood in his path. He bent to kiss my cheek and our umbrellas collided. ‘What are you doing here? Is something wrong?’

  ‘No, I just need to talk to you.’

  I could have phoned him last night – Audrey, with her typical zeal, urged me to ring him so the plans were final and I couldn’t back out – but it wasn’t a conversation I could imagine having over the telephone. It needed to be face to face. He deserved it.

  He led me round to a squat grey building, and up in the lift to the top floor, where his corner office provided views of traffic in Manchester city centre and of a busy railway line. It was a stark contrast from the mellow stone and spires of Oxford that he had once hoped for. For a long time, I had felt guilty that marrying me, and my refusal to move away from Stoneybrook, had held him back, and denied him his dream; but not anymore. He had lived exactly the life he had chosen. Now it was my turn.

  I prowled round his office while he made us coffee, soaking in the familiar touches: books we had bought together; books we had written together; numerous little pieces of junk that the children had made him for various Fathers’ Days and birthdays. I could draw a dot-to-dot around the room, tracing the progress of our life together through the objects on display. The trail ended on his desk, where a photograph of me and the children, on our last holiday as a family in St Ives, stood side by side with a picture of Leo and Clark on their wedding day.

  ‘Happy times,’ Leo said, coming up behind me as I studied the family photographs. He handed me his Emma Bridgewater ‘Dad’ mug, keeping a tatty plain one for himself. The instinctive gesture prodded at my heart, reminding me of a lifetime of kindness he had shown me: so many kindnesses, that I knew, without any further thought, that if placed in the balance they would outweigh even the heaviest mistakes of his youth. He had done me wrong; but he had done me right a million times over to make up for it.

  ‘Are you busy over half term?’

  ‘Not especially. Clark has no more holiday allowance left until Christmas, so I expect I’ll carry on with the book about Victorian writers. Your notes are invaluable, as always.’ Leo smiled. ‘You didn’t come here to discuss holiday plans.’

  ‘Actually I did. I need you to have the children to stay with you, from tomorrow.’

  ‘Of course. Are you …’ He hesitated, drank some of his coffee. ‘Am I allowed to ask? Are you going away?’

  ‘I am.’ He pushed his glasses up his nose. He knew what I was going to say; I could see the truth dawning over his face, frown lines spreading out like the sun’s rays. ‘I’m going to New York.’

  ‘Ah.’ Leo wandered over to the window and leant against the glass, his head turned to the street below. The wet road amplified the sound of the traffic, and car horns blared as impatient commuters tried to get ahead. ‘I suppose you’re here to ask for my blessing.’

  ‘No.’ He turned back to me. ‘I don’t need your blessing, or anyone else’s.’

  ‘But you are going to Ethan?’

  ‘Yes. I’m going to talk to Ethan, and then I’m going to decide what happens next. But if the what happens next involves Ethan coming home – involves me having a relationship with Ethan – then I know you won’t like it, but you have to accept it, just like I accepted Clark. No squabbles from the past are going to harm this family.’

  ‘It isn’t a question of not liking it. It never has been. He’s my brother. Of course I love him, and want him to be happy. You too.’ Leo took hold of my hand and led me over to the squashy red velvet sofa we had chosen together more years ago than I could remember. ‘The truth is, that the idea of you being with Ethan is terrifying.’

  ‘Why? Do you not think we would be happy?’

  ‘On the contrary, I fear you would be too happy.’ He traced the space on my finger where my wedding ring had once been. He had a new ring now, a thick platinum band, shining evidence of his love for Clark. ‘Because seeing you happy together would make me wonder what life you might have had if I hadn’t stood in your way: where you would have gone, what you might have achieved. And it would make me wonder whether you regretted the life you shared with me. You gave me everything, Mary, made me everything I am. I couldn’t bear it if you regretted a moment of it.’

  I remembered thinking at Leo’s wedding to Clark that he had never cried over me. Now he did, and the sight of it filled my heart with so much affection for him that it washed away the stain left by the recent revelations. I didn’t care that he had betrayed me in Oxford; I didn’t care that he had lied to Ethan by telling him I was pregnant. It didn’t matter – because I didn’t regret my marriage to Leo, and I never would. I couldn’t regret anything that had brought me Jonas and Ava; and I couldn’t regret it for my own sake either. I had been a lost, discontented teenager when Leo arrived in my life, and he had given me a purpose, a family, stability, and contentment. He had given me everything I needed back then. Audrey had made the right judgement: Leo and I had been meant for each other at the time. But that time was over.

  ‘No regrets. You saved me, Leo. You were my anchor when I needed one. I wouldn’t be me without you.’

  I leant forward and hugged him; the last time, perhaps, that it would be appropriate to do that. I rested my head on his shoulder, soaking it with tears, and tried to convey in that embrace all the gratitude, forgiveness, and love that I felt for him.

  ‘But it’s time to sail away now,’ Leo said.

  I nodded.

  ‘It’s time to try.’

  He kissed the top of my head in farewell.

  ‘Safe journey, my darling Mary.’

  Could I say that New York was one of my favourite places in the world, when I had never previously travelled further than France? My heart was lost at the first sight of a yellow cab and never properly settled down. It was all so gloriously, overwhelmingly mad: everything was twice as bright, twice as noisy, and a hundred times more vibrant than I had expected. I had never been anywhere so alien – in contrast with my quiet village life – and yet so familiar. So many times I turned a corner and recognised a place and then had to do a double-take, because this wasn’t a film or a photograph. It was real. I was actually here, in New York. And I was here in New York to see Ethan. And then …

  But I couldn’t think about that. He might not even be there. It only occurred to me as
I sat in Central Park, watching the tourists, joggers, and horse-drawn carriages pass by, that in all the last-minute rush to come here, I had forgotten the most important thing. I hadn’t replied to Ethan’s email, and hadn’t told him I was coming. What if he assumed my silence was a rejection and didn’t turn up? I toyed with my phone, considering sending a reply now, but decided against it. If he was as loyal as he claimed, he would be there. And if not … I blocked that alternative from my head.

  It was ten to seven when my cab dropped me off at City Hall, and the driver pointed the way to the pedestrian access to Brooklyn Bridge. I stared at it for a few minutes, legs too paralysed by fear to move. Swarms of people headed on and off. I’d had no idea that it would be so vast, or so busy. It looked like it stretched half a mile across the river … How did I know where he would be? What if I missed him in the crowd? What if he hadn’t arrived yet? I pushed my legs forward, one anxious step after another, onto the wooden boards that formed the pedestrian walkway. What if he wasn’t coming at all? And then, as I hesitated again, wondering if I had the nerve to do this after all, the family group I had been shuffling behind moved to one side to take a photograph, and there he was, leaning on the railing, gazing over the traffic below and down into the water, and my heart pummelled my chest so strongly that it felt as if it might escape and literally, as well as metaphorically, go to rest in his hands.

  The breeze ruffled his hair and he straightened up and turned so he was looking right at me. The lights on the bridge shone down on his face, and it was like watching a child see Father Christmas for the first time: the wonder and delight were instinctive and consumed every part of him. He hadn’t known I was coming, and I was glad. I wouldn’t have missed this moment for all the world. It told me everything I needed to know, and dismissed every doubt.

  ‘You’re here,’ he said. ‘You actually came.’

  ‘Of course I did. I was sent a free ticket to New York. I’d be a chump not to take it.’ I smiled. ‘I can go if you like …’