‘Oh don’t mind me, I’m just feeling a bit emotional,’ Kate said before changing the subject. ‘Karen, thanks so much for coming. The girls have loved seeing you.’
‘I’ve loved seeing them. And you have a lovely house, Kate, just lovely. Thanks for inviting me, I’ve really enjoyed myself. And if you ever want to talk, I’m here. Now how about we gather up those two lovely girls of yours and play a game?’
After Karen had left and the girls had gone to bed, Kate sat down on the sofa and reflected on the day. They had hugged when she left, with promises to keep in touch and see each other again. It had been such a surreal experience, sharing so much about herself with a woman she had barely met before. How funny that she should bond with Pete’s mum now, after all these years, when he wasn’t around to see it. Would he be furious with her, she wondered, if he knew what had happened? Or would he be able to forgive his mum after all these years? Karen had acknowledged that she’d made mistakes and she wanted to make amends. She was a different person to the one she’d been all those years ago, abandoned, alone and afraid in her early twenties.
Kate had no idea if there was a place for Karen in their lives, it all felt horribly complicated. But she had enjoyed the afternoon and so had the girls.
To distract herself, she logged on to her website. She’d built it herself a few years ago when she’d decided to start freelancing but she hadn’t touched it since, except to renew the domains every year, promising herself that when the time was right, she’d have another attempt at starting up her business. Right now the time couldn’t be worse – Rachel had left, her husband was AWOL and she was struggling to keep control, proactive and positive one minute and bereft the next. Yet she had to be realistic about her future and the fact that she couldn’t rely on Pete anymore. She needed to start earning an income again. Did she have it in her to go back into PR? She had no idea but she couldn’t think of anything else she was qualified to do and she had absolutely loved her job for years. She thought about the things she’d enjoyed about it – the writing, the pitching ideas, the hit of adrenaline when a story she’d worked on appeared in a prominent newspaper. She couldn’t go back to the cut-throat nature of a large PR agency but perhaps she could start small, offering her services to local organisations, charging a lower fee to get her confidence back and build her portfolio. Right now, she just needed to get back on the horse.
She scanned the website – it actually looked pretty good. She’d worked hard on it. Logging in, she started tweaking bits of the site, updating information and content. Pouring herself another glass of wine, she became so absorbed in it that she was shocked when she looked at the time and saw that it was gone eleven o’clock. She’d been working on it for over two hours. Closing her laptop, she headed upstairs and climbed into bed, suddenly feeling so exhausted that she didn’t even have the energy to brush her teeth. She was asleep within minutes and slept for six hours straight for the first time in weeks.
14
Pete
‘Same time next week?’ Pete asked Claire as he got dressed and prepared to leave.
‘I can’t do next week, I’m going away,’ Claire replied.
‘Going away where?’
‘To France, to my dad’s house.’
It was the first time she’d mentioned it and his heart started to pound. It had been a few weeks since she’d brought up the idea of moving to France and they hadn’t discussed it since. He’d begun to relax again, assuming she’d realised that the idea was absurd and let it go. He still knew there was no way that he would ever move to France but he hated the idea of her going without him.
‘You never mentioned it before. Is it just for a holiday? Who are you going with?’
Claire looked at him with sleepy eyes and smiled. She was clearly enjoying the fact that he was getting a little riled. ‘I’m going with my friend Michael. He’s an architect and he’s going to look at the house and the outbuildings and see what the potential is to do them up in exchange for a free holiday and lots of cheese and wine.’
Pete knew from what Claire had told him about her friends that Michael was gay so he wasn’t threatened by him but the fact that she was thinking seriously about sprucing up the place surprised him. ‘How long will you be gone for?’ he asked.
‘About a week,’ she replied. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve already booked the time off at work.’
He didn’t give one shit about her bloody annual leave allocation. But he suddenly had a sinking feeling that this new life he had become accustomed to, no matter how precarious and dangerous it was, was about to change again and he didn’t like it. ‘So you’re seriously thinking about this whole move to France, then?’
‘Yes, Pete, I told you so a few weeks ago.’
‘Well, you mentioned it in passing but you haven’t said anything since. I didn’t realise it was still on your mind.’
‘Well, it is.’
He felt himself getting cross. This was the closest they’d come to an argument since they’d been seeing each other. ‘It would have been nice if you’d kept me in the loop.’
Claire unfurled her legs and sat up, looking at him square on. ‘Look, Pete, your situation is complicated, I get it. But mine isn’t complicated. I’m fed up of London, of temping, of living in a rented flat. I fancy a change. Nothing is set in stone yet but I’m going with Michael to do a recce and I’ll take it from there. I don’t even know how I’ll feel about it all because I haven’t been to my dad’s house in years. I might go and decide it’s a terrible idea but there’s only one way to find out.’
Looking at the anguish on his face, Claire softened a bit. ‘Pete, I adore you. You know I do. There is nothing I would love more in the world than for you to be going on this journey with me but that’s up to you. I know you would have to make a lot of sacrifices but I still think it could work for you, for your family and for us. In fact, I think it could be amazing. But as I said, that’s your decision, not mine.’
On the way home, he replayed the conversation over again in his head. He’d assumed that if he wasn’t up for the whole idea that she wouldn’t be either. Clearly he’d been wrong. But he didn’t want her to go: the thought of losing her absolutely terrified him. Once again he realised how far he’d let this go – she’d gone from being the other woman to potentially the love of his life. Because that’s honestly how he felt about her now, that she was the only person in the world who truly understood him.
But there was no way he could move to France. He knew that his marriage was in trouble and he had known all along that he would have to do something about that – either fix it or end it – but his whole life was in London, his children, his job, his friends. He couldn’t give all that up and she shouldn’t expect him to.
Perhaps if he pretended to toe the line a bit she might ease up on the whole idea, he thought. He could act like he was actually considering the idea, pretend to do a bit of research and then tell her that it just wasn’t possible but that he adored her and didn’t want her to go without him. And she might relent because she knew that he had done his best to try and make it work. Yes, that’s what he’d do. Reaching for his phone, he sent her a quick message.
Tell me again how you think the whole France thing could work for us.
Her reply came as he was waiting to get the bus home from the Tube station.
You’d start by applying for new jobs that offered remote working. Then once that was secured you could look for a nice two-bed flat to rent, near the girls, so you had a London base. We’d start work on the house and could move by autumn xxx
He was still humouring her but he typed out a quick reply.
OK, I’ll look into it.
Then he opened up his BBC app and turned to the sports headlines.
That weekend, he was in a bit of a funk. Claire was going to be away all of next week and he was already annoyed at the prospect of not seeing her. He was standing in the playground with Kate while the girls hurtled down the sl
ide, sipping a coffee and stewing in his own bad mood when she said: ‘I’ve been thinking about the summer holidays. We haven’t booked anything yet. How about France?’
He almost spat out his coffee. Taking a minute to compose himself, he said: ‘I don’t fancy France, actually.’
‘Why not?’
‘Can’t guarantee the weather. Why not somewhere like Greece or Italy?’
‘Okay, I suppose,’ she said. ‘Shall I go ahead and look into it?’
‘Sure.’ It felt weird talking about booking a holiday with her. But trying to dissuade her from doing so would certainly arouse suspicion. Better to act normally, he thought. He had an image of them sitting by a poolside, sipping gin and tonics and watching the sun go down. Perhaps this could be a make-or-break holiday? The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Maybe what they needed was some time away together, away from the everyday stress and strain of life and they’d either come back stronger than ever or he’d know for sure that their marriage was over. Either way, it put off the decision for a couple of months.
‘Tell you what, why don’t we have a look together tonight?’ he said.
Her eyes lit up. He normally left that kind of thing to her, telling her to just put the dates in their shared diary.
‘I’d like that,’ she said, smiling at him.
He felt a pang of guilt that she was so pleased by the prospect of them doing something together, even though it only involved staring at a computer screen. For the first time he considered the thought that it wasn’t just her who had stopped making an effort. ‘And do you know what?’ he said. ‘Let’s really push the boat out, book something amazing. I think we all need a good holiday.’
That night she cooked his favourite dinner, steak and chips, and they sat down together, scrolling through the endless holiday options before deciding on a five-star hotel in mainland Greece. Paying the deposit and booking the flights, she turned to him and grinned excitedly. ‘I can already feel the sunshine on my skin,’ she said. He grinned back. ‘I’m already there drinking a gin and tonic in the pool bar.’
‘I’ll order us a guidebook to Greece,’ she said, ‘so we can go on a few day trips. Teach the girls a bit of history that doesn’t involve a water park.’
‘Not too much history,’ he groaned.
She laughed – it was just like the old days when they used to go away together in their twenties. She was always looking for a museum or art gallery to visit while he just wanted to sit in a piazza somewhere soaking in the atmosphere and drinking a cold beer. ‘You don’t need to stare at a piece of art to understand the culture of a place,’ he would tell her. ‘You just need to sit in the right place, with a local tipple in hand, and watch the world go by.’
That night when they went to bed, he’d thought she was asleep so when she spoke, it startled him. ‘I know things have been a bit tough lately, Pete. But maybe this holiday is just what we need.’
She reached for his hand and he squeezed hers back. ‘Maybe it is,’ he replied.
The conversation seemed to break a barrier between them in the days that followed. They were a little bit kinder to each other, more considerate. With Claire being away and no client engagements that week he had no reason to stay out late and so he was home in time for the girls’ bedtime every night. For the first time in a long time they did the routine together, smiling as Lily and Maggie giggled and splashed each other in the bath. He felt a little better about himself then.
If he was being honest a part of him was still annoyed with Claire for pursuing this whole France idea, and for going off on holiday without giving him much notice too, and perhaps his revenge was to be a bit more attentive to his wife. Either way, it felt nice. He didn’t message Claire once during the week and she didn’t message him either. Whether it was an unspoken agreement between them or one was just waiting for the other to initiate contact he didn’t know. He tried not to think about it. The girls seemed to sense the harmony in the house and were absolute delights all week. And Kate didn’t even have a go when he forgot to buy milk on the way home, despite not being able to have her evening cup of tea. By the following weekend, he was almost feeling good about family life.
‘Why don’t I take the girls to the park this morning?’ he told Kate when they woke up on Saturday. ‘You could have a nice long bath or go and get your nails done, and then we can meet at the usual café for brunch together.’
‘That would be lovely,’ she said. ‘Thanks, Pete.’
In the playground he watched as the two girls ran around together, racing over the equipment and flying down the slides on their bellies. He looked around at all the other dads who were on Saturday morning parent duty while their wives did chores, worked or met with friends. He was one of them too, he realised, and it really wasn’t that bad. So, he didn’t have sex with his wife anymore, but all couples struggled with that after kids. They just needed to start making an effort again and this week had proven that they could still get along and enjoy each other’s company with a bit of effort. It had to stop now, he decided, he’d had his fun and now it was time to concentrate on his marriage. He had too much to lose.
As he was pushing Lily and Maggie on the swings, his phone beeped. He pulled it out of his pocket and read the WhatsApp message.
Bonjour stranger. I’m back from France and I can’t wait to see you. Wednesday? Xx
He quickly pocketed the phone and concentrated on pushing the girls. But already he was imagining being in Claire’s flat and the need to see her was instant. Feeling all his resolve from just minutes ago dissolving he tried to ignore the urge to reply.
‘Come on, girls,’ he said. ‘Time to go and meet Mummy for brunch.’
That evening, as he was reading a bedtime story to Maggie, he heard his phone beep again in his pocket. Kissing his daughter goodnight, he stepped out of the room and scanned the message.
You okay? Xx
Once again he put the phone back in his pocket and went downstairs to help Kate make dinner. He could feel it burning a hole in his jeans and he desperately tried to forget about it. ‘Shall we watch a film on Netflix tonight?’ he asked Kate.
‘Sounds good,’ she replied.
‘And maybe an early night?’ he ventured, raising his eyebrows at her suggestively.
‘Not tonight, Pete,’ she said without hesitation. Then looking at him she added: ‘Wrong time of the month.’
‘Fair enough,’ he replied. ‘Netflix it is.’
By Monday he still hadn’t replied to Claire. She had sent him one more message on Sunday.
Pete, I’m worried now, is everything okay?
He knew he couldn’t ignore her forever, he would have to face up to it sooner or later and it should probably be sooner in case she did something stupid like try to call him when Kate was around. On his way into work he typed out a quick message to her.
Sorry, Claire, busy weekend. Are you free this evening? We need to talk.
Her reply came quickly.
Sounds ominous. Okay, see you later.
The day dragged on and on and he struggled to concentrate on anything else. By the time he was ready to leave for Claire’s flat he was feeling nervous but resigned. He knew what he had to do. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door of her flat. She answered in a silk dressing gown, despite only having been home for twenty minutes herself. ‘Hi, Pete, I was just about to take a bath, fancy joining me?’
She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. ‘No thanks, Claire, can we go and sit down?’
‘Sure,’ she replied. She curled up on the sofa, wrapping her long legs underneath her and looked at him expectantly.
‘How was France?’ he asked, putting off the inevitable for a few more minutes.
‘Oh it was glorious,’ she said, her face lighting up. ‘I was nervous about going to my dad’s house but with Michael with me it gave me the strength I needed to rip off the plaster and open that front door. And when I was in there I felt…
I don’t know… sad of course but also excited. Michael was excited too, he said the place had so much potential. And of course we spent lots of time drinking wine, eating far too much bread and cheese and coming up with ideas for the house. It was lovely.’
‘Great,’ he said, feeling anything but great.
‘How about you? Good week?’ she asked.
‘Yes, fine thanks. Look, Claire, I’ve been thinking. What I’m doing… it’s wrong and it’s unfair to my family. Clearly Kate and I have our issues – this whole thing wouldn’t have started if we didn’t – but I’ve had time to think while you’ve been away and we need to stop this. I adore you, you know I do, you’re an amazing woman and if I’d met you in another lifetime, things would be different. I’m sorry.’
‘Okay.’ She shrugged.
He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting but it wasn’t this. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
‘Sure, Pete, I’m fine,’ she said and smiled at him. Why wasn’t she more pissed off? Shouldn’t she be crying or raging at him? She seemed so cool with it.
‘So, I’ll see you at work?’ he asked.
‘Yep, see you at work. I’m off for my bath, you can let yourself out.’
And with that she stood up, gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind her and leaving him alone on the sofa wondering what the hell had just happened.
The Missing Husband: a tense psychological suspense full of twists Page 12