Forgotten

by Susan Lewis

  Wondering how he could ask that when this first week had gone so badly, she decided it was best not to remind him, so simply said, ‘I guess, if you are.’

  ‘Don’t I look it?’ he asked, apparently meaning it.

  She hardly knew what to say when actually he did right now, but how long would it last? ‘We haven’t got off to a great start, have we?’ she said.

  He seemed surprised, then concerned. ‘So you’re not happy to be here?’

  Since it would achieve nothing to hurt him, or point out how difficult he’d been, she put a hand to his face as she said, ‘I’m fine.’ Then turning as her iPhone started to ring, she said, ‘It’ll probably be Amy wondering if you’re back. Why don’t you get into the bath and I’ll order you a brandy?’

  Catching her hands to delay her, he said, ‘Next week will be better, I promise. When we go to Windermere …’

  ‘We’re at Windermere, you mean Ullswater.’

  ‘Of course. We’ll start again, as though it’s the beginning.’

  A few minutes later, after assuring Amy that everything was fine, she sat down on the edge of the bed to wait for someone from room service to deliver their drinks. There was something about his unwillingness to go into any detail about why he’d been gone for so long, and the way he’d brushed over his bouts of ill temper as though they’d never happened, that wasn’t feeling right at all. It was as though he was in some kind of denial … Or that he was hiding something from her. Perhaps he was hiding it from himself, because he surely had to know how difficult he’d been since they got here. He seemed to think that if he pretended something hadn’t happened she would too, which was bizarre and un settling, and starting to make her worried about how naive she’d been to assume they knew one another inside out simply because they’d been close twenty years ago.

  They were different people now, with histories, temperaments and even secrets that neither of them knew anything about. It felt suddenly daunting to realise that. But he was still David, she told herself. He was a good man, kind and generous and unfailingly supportive. But there seemed to be another side to him that she either hadn’t noticed before, or he’d managed to suppress, and she was fairly sure it was a side she wasn’t going to like very much.

  However, no one was perfect, she reminded herself, only too aware of how critical and contrary she herself could be at times, and since he’d promised that next week at Ullswater would be better, she was ready to trust that he’d be as good as his word.

  Rosalind could count on the fingers of one hand how many times she saw Lawrence laugh in a week, perhaps even a month. His amusement was often expressed in loud staccato bursts that rang as hollow and dry as the spaces between them, yet it still warmed her to hear it. He was laughing now as he sat in the TV room replaying the DVD Jerry had made of him throwing sticks for the dog at the wedding. Realising that Jerry must have edited the recording to make sure it contained nothing of the actual event, simply Lawrence and the dog, had surprised her when she’d first seen it. It conveyed a sensitivity to her feelings that she hadn’t expected when she knew how strongly he disapproved of her decision to stay away, and how angered he’d been by the text she’d sent. So in spite of it all, on some level he seemed to understand that for her, watching her father committing to his new life surrounded by people she didn’t know, in a place she would never visit, would have been like standing alone on a platform watching everything she treasured leaving on a train that had no room for her.

  The loneliness she’d felt since that Saturday was only surpassed by the remorse that smothered her in shame every time she thought about that text. Her intention had been to rob Lisa Martin of the smugness of her victory and ruin her day – what she’d succeeded in doing was scaring her father and diminishing herself even further in the woman’s eyes. Knowing that she must now view her with contempt was driving Rosalind’s humiliation to even greater depths, which in turn was making her hate Lisa Martin all the more.

  However, right now the woman was only in her thoughts because of her connection to the dog Lawrence was so passionate about. Having long guessed that the animal was going to be used to try and bridge the gap between her father’s two families, she was already working on how to avoid that cunning little trap. She hadn’t discussed it with Jerry yet, but she felt sure he’d approve of her decision to get a dog of their own once she told him, and she would as soon as he came home. He was due back later today, and she was eager to make his homecoming as special as she did in happier days.

  From now on, she’d decided, she was going to put all her efforts into rebuilding their marriage, which meant she must force herself to let go of the fear that he would hurt her again. There was a time when she’d considered him her best friend, as well as her life partner, and she felt sure he was as keen to recapture that closeness as she was. In fact, she probably felt ready now to start trying for another baby.

  ‘Again,’ Lawrence stated, as the video ended on a full shot of his and Lucy’s faces staring into the camera, and snatching up the remote he reset to the beginning.

  ‘I was wondering,’ Rosalind said, going to sit on an adjacent chair so she could see him without crowding him, ‘if you’d like to have a dog of your own.’

  Lawrence looked at her and blinked.

  She smiled. ‘That would be nice, wouldn’t it?’ she prompted.

  ‘I want Lucy,’ he said.

  ‘But you know she belongs to somebody else.’

  ‘I want Lucy.’

  ‘You can still visit her, or she can come here, but think how lovely it would be to have your own dog here all the time.’

  His expression was starting to darken. ‘I want Lucy.’

  ‘Stop that now,’ she snapped as he began banging his feet into the sofa.

  ‘I want Lucy.’

  With a sigh she got up to go and answer the phone.

  ‘I want Lucy.’

  Closing the door behind her, she scooped up the cordless she’d left on the hall table and clicked on as she carried it into the kitchen.

  ‘Hi, it’s me,’ Jerry said.

  Though she’d expected it to be him, she experienced a fluttering of nerves that wasn’t unlike the excitement she used to feel when they were dating. ‘Hi,’ she said, opening the fridge to take out some wine. ‘I guess you’ve landed.’

  ‘Mm, yeah, you could say that,’ he replied.

  She smiled. ‘A bumpy one?’

  His half-hearted laugh told her she was probably right and he was still cross with himself for not achieving perfection. ‘What are you doing?’ he asked.

  Deciding not to mention the wine as she filled a glass, she said, ‘Not much at the moment, but now I know you’re on your way home I’ll get cooking. Actually, I’ve already prepared quite a bit, because I’m making an Indian with all the trimmings, spicy poppadums, bhajis, chicken rezzala, pilau rice.’ They were all his favourites, so he’d know without her having to say so that she had romantic plans for the evening.

  There was a moment before he said, ‘Actually, I’m not coming home. It’s why I’m calling. I’m … Well, I’m not coming home.’

  Her heart seemed to stop as his words rang with a meaning she didn’t want to understand. She tried to laugh. ‘I thought you’d landed,’ she said. ‘Has there been a delay? Oh no, don’t tell me there’s a problem with the same …’

  ‘There’s not a problem,’ he interrupted. ‘Not of that sort, anyway. What I’m saying is … Well, I think you know what I’m saying.’

  No she didn’t. She didn’t want to, so she told him she didn’t.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve tried, I swear I have, but you know as well as I do that we can’t go on the way we are, so I think it’s best all round now if we call it a day.’

  A wrecking ball was coming at her so fast that there was no way she could avoid it. Any moment now it was going to smash her apart. ‘But that’s not what I want,’ she said shakily.

  ‘It’s
not what I wanted either, but we both know you can’t let go of the past, and I can’t go on trying to make it up to you.’

  Grasping at what felt like a last straw, she said, ‘I understand that, truly I do, but I’ve been thinking and I realise now how difficult I’ve been, always going on about what happened, never allowing myself to trust you, but I can change. In fact, I’ve already made up my mind that I will. I want us to start again. I’m cooking dinner tonight to show you …’

  ‘Please don’t do this,’ he broke in gently. ‘It’s too late, Rosalind.’

  ‘No! Don’t say that. It’s because I love you that I’ve found everything so difficult. If I didn’t care it would make no difference to me who you slept with or how often, but I do care, Jerry. I care more than I know how to put into words. You must know that. I’m just so afraid of it happening again …’

  ‘No, what you’re afraid of now is being on your own. Your father has chosen Lisa in spite of all your efforts to stand in his way …’

  ‘This isn’t about him,’ she cried. ‘It’s about us and how I feel about you. And it’s about Lawrence, your son. He’s been watching the DVD you made, over and over. He loves it. I told him we’d get him a dog of his own. Jerry,’ she choked, desperately, ‘if you won’t think about me then please think of him. You’re his father. He needs you too. I know he can’t show his feelings, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have them. Please come home. I’ve got bhajis and masala and poppadums and …’

  ‘I’m not in England,’ he told her quietly.

  As the words he didn’t say started to register she became very still. ‘So where are you?’ she asked hoarsely.

  He didn’t answer, but the silence was answer enough.

  ‘Oh my God, you’re with her,’ she sobbed. ‘You’ve gone back to her …’

  ‘Rosalind!’

  ‘No! I don’t want to hear any more. I always knew I was right …’

  ‘Please don’t hang up.’

  ‘You know what’s really sad about this?’ she shouted. ‘It’s that you didn’t have the guts to come and tell me in person. You’re a coward, Jerry,’ and with a slam that could have broken the handset she ended the call.

  ‘I want Lucy. I want Lucy,’ Lawrence yelled from the doorway.

  ‘Shut up! Go away!’ she sobbed, and grabbing her mobile she pressed in her father’s number.

  ‘Daddy! Oh God! Jerry’s left me. He’s in South Africa with his mistress and he’s not coming back.’

  ‘Just a moment,’ a woman’s voice said at the other end, ‘I’ll put you on to him.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  THERE HAD BEEN no point in arguing, so Lisa hadn’t even attempted it. Rosalind needed her daddy, so Rosalind’s daddy was abandoning his honeymoon along with his promise of a better second week at Ullswater to speed back down the motorway to rescue his little princess’s troubled marriage. Never mind about his own, all that mattered was that Rosalind shouldn’t be alone at such a difficult time.

  It was the middle of the afternoon now and they were already on the M5, south of Birmingham, so they should be home in less than an hour. Lisa could only hope that he remembered to drop her off before charging on to the rescue, because she was certainly in no mood to deal with his daughter the way things were.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, casting her a quick glance, ‘but you have to understand …’

  ‘Will you please stop saying that?’ she cut in angrily. ‘I heard you the first time and the second and the third. I understand perfectly, thank you, so you don’t have to explain it again.’

  Appearing contrite, he said, ‘I didn’t realise I was repeating myself. How very annoying.’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ she confirmed, ‘but not nearly as annoying as the fact that I’ll probably be spending tonight on my own, and for all I know the entire second week of our honeymoon.’

  She noticed his hands tighten on the wheel. ‘Lisa, please try to have some compassion. Her husband’s left her …’

  ‘It’s not that I don’t feel sorry for her,’ she cried, ‘because actually I do, but tell me this, what consideration is she showing anyone else? Does she care that you’re on your honeymoon? Did she stop to think that she might be spoiling a wonderful time for you? Not for a second. In fact, she probably hopes she is, because God forbid that you should enjoy yourself with anyone but her, or her mother, and especially not me, your new wife of one week and two days who she’s decided to turn into her own personal bête noire without even meeting me.’

  For a moment it seemed as though he might respond, but in the end he evidently decided not to and kept his eyes on the road as he continued to drive.

  ‘What’s the matter with you?’ she suddenly snapped.

  He frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean why are you allowing this to happen, and why aren’t you arguing back? This past week you’ve hardly stopped biting my head off or getting worked up over nothing, and now I can barely get a word out of you. So, what’s the matter with you?’

  ‘There’s nothing the matter with me,’ he said quietly.

  Stifling the urge to scream, she turned to stare out of the window, resolved to pass the rest of the journey in silence unless he spoke first. It lasted until they were rapidly approaching their turn-off.

  ‘Where are you going?’ she shouted. ‘Start indicating to pull over or we’ll miss the exit.’

  Seeming to come to, he quickly signalled and made a hasty swerve across the slow lane on to the slip road. ‘Lucky nothing was in the way,’ he said, glancing sheepishly into the rear-view mirror.

  ‘Too right,’ she muttered, still holding on to the edge of her seat.

  He looked at her, and when she looked back she finally felt herself beginning to thaw. She really didn’t have to be making this so difficult for him when it was clearly difficult enough already. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, reaching for his hand. ‘In fact, it’s a bit perverse of me, isn’t it, to be making such a fuss when we weren’t having a particularly good time anyway. Will it make you feel better if I say I’ll be glad to get home?’

  ‘Would you mind if I said me too?’ he replied with a smile. ‘It’s just a shame I have to go straight out again.’

  Though she was tempted to remind him that Rosalind didn’t actually know they were back yet so he could at least come in for a cup of tea, she realised it would only make him feel more torn than he already did, and since nothing she said was likely to change his mind, she might as well let it go.

  ‘Honestly,’ she said to Amy when she was finally back in the house and on her own, ‘I’m beginning to wonder who he thinks he’s married to, me or her? And if it ever came to choosing between us, I’m pretty sure she’d win … What am I saying? It just happened and she did. He had the choice of staying in the Lake District with me, or coming home to her, and look where we are.’

  ‘Well, at least he didn’t leave you there,’ Amy commented drily.

  Not being in the mood to laugh, Lisa said, ‘I’ve a good mind to call a cab and come over to you for the night. Let him see what it’s like to feel dumped on his honeymoon.’

  ‘You know you’re always welcome, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.’

  Sighing, Lisa replied, ‘No, I suppose not. It would just serve him right, that’s all. I wonder what time he’ll be back.’

  ‘I never imagined myself defending Rosalind,’ Amy said, ‘but try to remember how you felt every time you thought Tony had left you. You were pretty devastated and then, when it really did come to an end … Well, you don’t need me to remind you how hard you found it to get over. That’s what she’s going through now.’

  ‘OK, you don’t have to make me feel any worse than I already do. It’s tough for her, I know that, horrible, one of the worst things that can happen. I just wish David weren’t so … I don’t know what he is … Yes I do, he’s weak with her and I don’t think I’m ever going to find that very easy to deal with.’

  ‘Mo
st fathers are jelly when it comes to their daughters, you know that, and I see it every day. So I’m afraid one way or another you’ll have to get used to it, because he’s not Tony who comes with no ties or responsibilities, and who was free to make you the centre of his world …’

  ‘Let’s not talk about Tony,’ Lisa muttered, ‘because right now he’s starting to seem like the better option. At least he never used to pull Jekyll and Hyde stunts on me the way David has this past week. Tell me, was he moody before the wedding, and I was too busy to notice, or does being married do something to a man that I was never aware of?’

  Sighing, Amy said, ‘He’s still the wonderful man you married, but now all the fuss and hoopla has died down reality’s starting to kick in, and part of that is facing up to the fact that he has other commitments. So, let him deal with Rosalind, and while you’re at it support him all you can, because it’s the only way he’s ever going to feel comfortable about getting the two of you together, and that’s what needs to happen. Once she gets to know you she’ll be as mad about you as I am.’

  ‘But will I be mad about her, has anyone given a thought to that? No, of course not, because it’s always about her. Well, I’m damned if I’m going to let my life revolve around someone who’s spoiled rotten and way too cosy in her role as Daddy’s girl.’

  ‘Lisa …’

  ‘No, I mean it. She did her best to ruin my wedding, she’s managed to break up my honeymoon, now I’m starting to wonder what the hell she’s going to pull off next.’

  * * *

  Rosalind was laughing as she dabbed tears from her eyes and settled in more comfortably against her father’s shoulder. They’d been sitting together on the sofa for over an hour now, talking a little about Jerry and what had happened, but mainly they’d been reminiscing about her mother, which was something she’d so desperately needed to do with someone – and who better than him? Next week it would be a year since her mother had gone, but Rosalind hadn’t got round to asking him yet if he was going to spend the anniversary with her. She would when she was feeling strong enough to deal with the rejection when it came, as she felt sure it would.