by Imogen Clark
‘Starts on Monday?’ I added doubtfully.
Another silence. Oh God, I thought. I really had misread this. For all Clio’s talk about being envious of my life and feeling pointless and all that stuff, when push came to shove it seemed that she was perfectly content to stay part of the idle rich and not sully her hands with an honest day’s work. I could feel my hackles starting to rise. Was I just a plaything to Clio after all? I suddenly had visions of her entertaining her friends with hilarious stories of her adventures with the working class by the seaside. I felt like such an idiot. How could I have been so stupid? Obviously, someone like Clio wouldn’t want anything to do with someone like me. And all that crap with Marlon. I’d fallen for it hook, line and sinker. I’d just been a puppet to them, a stupid toy . . .
‘I think that’s a wonderful idea,’ said Clio down the phone, and I had to reverse my thinking so fast that it made me feel dizzy. ‘And the landlord knows that I know nothing, right? I mean that I have precisely no experience at all.’
Relief flooded over me. ‘Yes, but I told him you were smart and happy to learn and so he said he’d give it a go. He’s a nice bloke, Eddie. You’ll like him.’
‘Wait till I tell Mummy,’ said Clio. ‘She’ll be delighted. She’s always telling me to get out there and try new things. Hector will probably have a heart attack on the spot.’ I could hear her tinkly little giggle. ‘Actually,’ she added, ‘maybe I won’t tell them just yet. It can be our little secret.’
‘It’s just for a couple of lunchtimes to start with,’ I explained. ‘You need to be there at ten on Monday and Eddie will show you round, explain how the till works, that kind of thing. Is that okay?’
‘Yes! That’s totally fine. I mean, it’s not like I have anything else to do,’ said Clio.
She sounded so excited and I couldn’t help but smile down the phone. It was bonkers really, to get so buzzy about a crappy little bar job, but I was thrilled.
38
GRACE – THEN
In the end, something had stopped Grace from telling Charles about her adventure to the house in Whitley Bay, although she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was. She certainly hadn’t intended to keep the whole episode a secret and it wasn’t as if she’d done anything wrong. She had taken herself there without mishap, which was a tale in itself; the house that Charles had bought was delightful and she had got along famously with Melissa, or at least the friendship had great potential. No, there really wasn’t any downside to the story and yet Grace felt a reluctance to share her news.
The timing had to be just right, she decided. If the four of them were going to be firm friends, as she hoped, then she needed to take things one step at a time. Yes, she and Melissa might be able to strike up a relationship easily enough, but what about Charles and Ray? Things there were a little different. There was more at stake, for a start. They might share blood but they hadn’t shared anything else and there might be some unwelcome awkwardness between them. After all, even though they were brothers, they were also strangers. On top of that, Ray could be harbouring some resentment because Charles’s life had turned out so well when his had been less successful.
Yes, thought Grace, a friendship there might be trickier to forge.
That said, there must be some kind of bond between the two men, Grace reasoned. Charles had bought the house for Ray and you didn’t do that kind of thing for someone you had no feelings for. What Grace didn’t want to do, though, was to push too hard and spoil things before their relationship had had a chance to be rekindled. Softly, softly – that was the way.
With this in mind, Grace decided that the best approach would be to work on her friendship with Melissa first, then the two of them could mount a pincer movement on their men, each woman working on her own husband until they came round to the idea. She would call round at the house again. She could repeat the trip whilst the children were at school and pretend that she was just passing. Melissa wouldn’t know any different, as Grace hadn’t told her where she lived. Maybe she could take a small gift for Leah? No. That didn’t sit with her ‘just passing’ story. There would be plenty of time for presents once their relationship was on a firmer footing. And Grace knew that it would be, in time. She could tell.
It was a much warmer day when she set out for Whitley Bay the second time. The winter had stepped aside and now spring was in charge, fully robed in her showy finery. Skittish lambs chased each other in the fields and the roadside banks were dotted with daffodils rather than snow.
It felt wrong to turn up empty-handed, Grace decided as she drove along. She could take some flowers, at least. That didn’t display too much forward planning – just thoughtfulness. But where to get some? She had no idea if there even was a florist in Whitley Bay, and sad carnations from a garage were not what she had in mind. How about some food? That was it. She could take a packet of digestive biscuits to replace the ones they’d eaten last time. That was good. Not too showy, just the kind of thing that female friends do for one another. Perhaps bringing biscuits to each other’s houses would become a tradition between the two families? Grace liked this idea, and she let the little fantasy play out in her mind as she drove along.
She seemed to arrive more quickly the second time she made the journey, her nerves no longer making one mile feel like three. There wouldn’t be any need for sneaking about this time, either. She could park right outside the house without worrying who might see her. She was a legitimate visitor. Melissa had invited her to call again and now here she was, doing just that.
As she pulled into the road where Melissa and Ray lived, Grace felt buoyant about her whole scheme. The speedwell sky above her head was speckled with fish-scale clouds and the sun was casting smudgy shadows on the tarmac. It really was a beautiful day.
She slowed the Volvo and searched for somewhere to park. The spaces directly in front of the house were taken. In fact, a man was just getting out of a car in what would be the prime spot. Grace cursed. If she’d been slightly quicker buying the digestives then she could have had that space. Not that it mattered. There were plenty of others.
She reversed into a gap outside number 11 and then checked her make-up in the rear-view mirror. Something caught her eye and she refocused to look at the scene in the street behind her. The man outside number 5 had got out of his car and was just examining it, checking each door was locked in turn as if he were worried that it might come to some harm parked here. She couldn’t see his face but the shape of him was familiar – something about his outline, the way he held his head, the set of his shoulders. For one confused moment, Grace thought it was Charles, but then she realised that of course, this must be Ray. He looked very smart for an ex-convict, she thought, and then reprimanded herself for making generalisations. Wasn’t he in security or something? That was what Melissa had told her and it would explain the smart clothes. It was lovely to see that he appeared to be doing well. Who knew what kind of a boost having a house had given him? Enough to kick for the surface, at least. The kind of warm glow that you get from being kind to others burned in Grace’s heart on Charles’s behalf.
But now she faced a dilemma. She hadn’t expected Ray to be here. Her plan had just been to strengthen her friendship with Melissa and it was definitely too soon to start working on the men. So, what should she do? Maybe she’d just turn around and go home, come back another day? But she had come all this way. It seemed silly to leave without even saying hello. And there was no need for her to go in. She could just knock on the door, introduce herself to Ray and then go. Where was the harm in that?
Grace picked up the packet of biscuits and slipped them into her bag, then hesitated. Rather than getting out of the car, she stayed where she was to watch how things played out. The man, Ray, was standing on the doorstep of number 5, searching in his pocket for something – his keys, no doubt, thought Grace.
She sat still, watching. She didn’t want to fluster him by having to introduce herself in the street
. Melissa might not even have mentioned her yet and so it could be really awkward. Better to wait until he was inside and then Melissa could do the introductions for her.
Ray found his key and was just about to slip it into the lock when a siren sounded on the road behind her. He turned his head to see what was happening and for the first time Grace saw his face.
The man didn’t just look like Charles. It was Charles. No wonder she’d thought he and Ray looked so alike. Grace smiled to herself and rolled her eyes heavenwards. What kind of idiot couldn’t recognise their own husband?! Honestly! Charles would laugh at her when they got home and she told him how she’d mistaken him for Ray.
But what was Charles doing here? He was supposed to be in Newcastle rehearsing today. They must have finished early, Grace reasoned, or maybe it was their lunch break. It was less than a half-hour drive from the city. Easy enough to pop over and then pop back. But why was he making clandestine visits to the couple, just as she was? How funny that would be – both of them independently building a relationship with the family in secret. This was going to be such a great dinner party story when they finally all came clean and the whole tale was revealed.
However, stumbling into Charles’s secret meeting left Grace in a tricky spot. If she knocked on the door now, he would find out that she had been here on her own and not told him. Whilst she was certain Charles would see the funny side in time, she wasn’t sure she wanted to risk a row here in front of Melissa and potentially Ray, if he was in the house, too. Charles had made it clear that he didn’t want them to have anything to do with Ray when he’d first told her about the house (although it appeared to be one rule for him and another for her on this matter, which was a little vexing and something to raise with him at a later date) so maybe it would be better if she just kept quiet for the time being. She could ask him some strategic questions, test the water a little bit before she revealed the truth about her secret trips.
Grace tutted to herself. She felt slightly cheated out of spending some time with Melissa, but leaving was probably the best thing to do in the circumstances. She would just have to come back again another day.
Still, would it hurt to just walk past the house and have a sneaky peep through the lounge window? No one would recognise her if she kept her head down, and they probably wouldn’t be looking out on to the street anyway. The opportunity was too tempting for Grace to resist.
Charles had let himself into the house and shut the front door behind him. He had a key, then, Grace thought as she climbed out of the car and locked the door. She was starting to feel a little annoyed with Charles. He had made all that fuss about her keeping away from Ray and Melissa, and now here he was spending time with the pair of them in secret. On top of that, he clearly did it often enough to let himself into the house. Grace was going to have to talk to him about this. It would mean confessing that she too had been to the house, but at least then everything would be out in the open.
Feeling that the coast was probably clear now that Charles was inside, Grace started to walk the few yards towards the house, pulling her scarf up around her head tightly. She wished she had a hood or a hat. Maybe some dark glasses? She was enjoying herself again now. She was wasted as a baroness! She should have been a spy.
As she approached number 5, Grace risked a sneaky look through the window. Then she stopped short, all thoughts of passing incognito forgotten. Charles, her Charles, was standing with little Leah on his hip. He had one arm around her to keep her steady and the other was pulling Melissa in towards him until her mouth touched his.
Grace stared, waiting for her brain to make sense of what her eyes were seeing. It was suddenly horribly apparent exactly what Charles was doing in Whitley Bay and why he had let himself into this stranger’s house.
Grace found that her feet wouldn’t move. She just stood and watched – there was no danger of either of them spotting her standing there now. Their kiss was far too passionate to allow for distractions.
39
GRACE – THEN
Grace just stood there watching as her husband embraced his brother’s wife. Bile rose in her throat and she put a shaking hand to her mouth as she tried to process what she saw. There must be an explanation that was different to the one that was screaming in her brain, demanding to be heard. But Grace knew that there wasn’t. It was totally apparent to her what was going on here. Her husband was having an affair.
Her heart was racing and her breathing so ragged that she had to open her mouth just to get enough oxygen. For a moment, she thought she might be sick right there in the street, but a few deep breaths pushed her nausea back down. Unanswered questions flooded her mind. How long had it been going on? Was it serious? Where was Ray? Did he know? Grace could bang on the door, demand to be let in and given a feasible explanation for what she had witnessed, but what she really needed now was to think, to clear her head. There would be time for questions later when she felt more able to listen to the answers calmly. She pulled at her scarf with trembling fingers, feebly attempting to cover more of her face, then turned and ran back to her car and locked herself in.
Once she could no longer actually see Charles’s betrayal playing out in front of her eyes, Grace began to feel more rational, the shock making her feel strangely calm and more detached from reality. Was there some other interpretation, something different to the obvious? Perhaps she had simply got the wrong end of the stick. But Grace knew that she hadn’t. Nobody kissed like that unless . . . Tears were smarting in her eyes and her throat began to close.
Grace swallowed hard and took a deep breath through her nose, steeling herself to go on. Falling apart here would solve nothing. She needed to keep a clear head. Apart from anything else she had to drive home and collect her children – their children – from school.
However, still she sat there, her hand on the ignition key but the engine silent. From the look of things, it appeared that the affair had been going on for a while. Charles had a key to the house, for a start, and little Leah looked totally at ease with him. Wasn’t that a bit strange, that Melissa let her child form a relationship with her lover, even if he was the child’s uncle? Leah was only small. How could they be sure that she wouldn’t tell her father what she had seen when nice Uncle Charles popped round? Of course, they couldn’t. So, either they didn’t care what she said or . . .
That must be it. Ray must have gone. Melissa, not knowing what to do, had contacted Charles, who had ridden in on his valiant steed to save the day, and then he had fallen straight into her arms himself.
But it had only been a couple of months since Grace was last here, and Melissa had seemed totally devoted to Ray. Could she have fallen out of love so fast? Maybe Ray had been unfaithful and Melissa had found solace in Grace’s husband? There were so many questions chasing each other around Grace’s head, but one thing was certain. Her husband was having an affair.
Grace knew all about affairs. Her own father had struggled with fidelity. His marriage to her mother had been punctuated by a litany of lovers. Of course, when Grace had been a girl she hadn’t been aware of how things were in her parents’ relationship, but as she had started to grow up the pattern of her father’s behaviour had become harder to ignore. First there were the rows with her mother. Grace would listen to them argue, their raised voices ricocheting around the corridors of the Hall like gunfire. Then he would be gone – not entirely, but regularly enough for his absence at meal times and family occasions to be obvious. And then the affair would end and suddenly he would be back, his affection for them all fresh like a newly painted fence. There would be presents and trips to the zoo, and life at the Hall would return to its usual timbre until the cycle began again.
Grace’s mother had just accepted her husband’s behaviour with dignity. She knew, or so it seemed to Grace, that he would always come back. The pull of her gravity was too strong for him to ignore. Her mother just had to be patient. Indeed, Grace was pretty sure that her mother had sometimes t
aken lovers of her own to fill the time whilst her father’s attention was distracted, but the pair of them had remained married, shared their golden wedding anniversary with a lavish party and all those other women had just fallen away like so many autumn leaves.
Could Grace do the same? Could she turn a blind eye to Charles’s infidelity and just bide her time until he saw the error of his ways and came back? Because he would come back to her eventually, of that she was certain. Charles loved her. She knew that he did, but also, he wasn’t about to turn his back on the Hall and all it stood for. And there were his children to consider.
The sudden thought of Hector and Clio being caught up in all this brought the nausea back, and Grace closed her eyes and bit her lip hard, forcing it to pass. Her beautiful, innocent babies. They must never know about any of it, she decided there and then. It had been hard for her, growing up in the shadow of her father’s lies, but if she was careful she could protect her own children from Charles’s. Hector was going away to school soon, so he would be safely out of harm’s way. Grace would just have to be vigilant with Clio and make sure that she didn’t stumble over any clues. Clio adored her fun-filled, larger-than-life father. It would break her heart to discover how he had betrayed them all.
By the time Grace started the engine to drive back to the Hall, she felt more in control of her emotions and she had a plan of sorts. She would simply bide her time and let the affair fizzle out, like her mother used to do. That was the best way to go about things. She would try to be more attentive to Charles, too – although the idea made her feel sick to her stomach – woo him away from Melissa and back to her. If she was honest, Grace knew she had inadvertently allowed her husband to float away since the birth of the children, edging his needs from the top of her own list of priorities little by little. Not that that was an excuse for what he had done in return, but it was something that she could remedy with a little effort. She would make him remember what they had built together, what he was gambling with by seeing Melissa. Maybe a few well-chosen stories about the rocky marriages of some of her friends might give him food for thought about his own?