The Single Wife : 'Liane Moriarty meets Elin Hilderbrand in an addictive summer read'

by Ella Grey

  She glanced away from the road briefly, a question in her eyes.

  Matt looked worried. “Well, did you call the doctor? What did he say? Good, well, look, I’ll be back in say, fifteen minutes or so, OK? And try not to worry, I’m sure it’ll be fine but … Tell him I’m on my way, won’t you? Right, right, see you soon.”

  “What’s happened?” For a split second, Olivia wondered if she’d been wrong about Catherine coming to terms with their relationship, but by the anxious look on Matt’s face she knew the woman wasn’t being dramatic just to try and ruin yet another night out.

  His voice was fraught. “It’s Adam, he has a fever and she thinks it might be meningitis.”

  “Oh, no.” Olivia had a similar scare with Ellie one time and it was horrific. “Is there a rash? Did she try the glass test?”

  “I don’t know, it was hard to make out what she was saying, she sounded so distraught.”

  “I know it’s impossible, but try not to worry – we’ll be there soon.” Instantly she increased the pressure on the accelerator. “Matt, it could be well be something small.”

  “I know, I know, but I just want to be there now.” He turned away and looked quickly out the window, but as he did, Olivia thought she saw the glistening of tears in his eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him too, Olivia,” he said in a broken voice, and her heart went out to him. “I really don’t know what I’d do.”

  She didn’t know what to say. All she knew was that her own situation would have to take a backseat for a while.

  Right then, there were far more important things to worry about.

  50

  Andrew Clarke sat in the arrivals area at Dublin airport, bored out of his tree. This had almost been as bad as the wait outside the delivery room last night.

  Although at least he was outside, and not inside with all the screaming and thrashing around and stuff. He really wasn’t the kind of fella who could deal with all that sort of thing.

  But Amanda had done well and apparently eighteen hours labour was a common enough thing. Andrew grimaced and once again thanked his lucky stars that he’d been born a man.

  How did women do it? All that pushing and shoving and blood and goo – surely it wasn’t natural? Surely, the human species had advanced far enough along the evolutionary chain to come up with some better way of reproduction than that sort of primal carry-on? Although, he thought, grinning to himself, the reproduction part being primal wasn’t really all that much of a problem, it was trying to get the finished product out that caused all the hassle.

  But, after it all, he was now the proud father of a tiny little girl who as yet had no name. She’d arrived at 4am that morning and Amanda was still dithering over names. He dreaded the final decision. Yesterday, before her waters broke, she’d been talking about naming the child, ‘Manchester’.

  “It’s original and classy and the great thing is it would suit either a girl or a boy, wouldn’t it?” she’d said, full of enthusiasm. All Andrew could think about was the hiding the child – male or female – would get all its life from football fans.

  Amanda was thrilled it had turned out to be a girl though. She thought she was ‘beautiful’. Andrew thought she was nice enough but, in all honesty, right after the birth she just looked like a small, shrivelled sausage with arms and legs.

  He checked his watch. Hell, were Amanda’s parents ever going to emerge? The eleven thirty Aer Lingus flight from London had landed a good half an hour ago and still there was no sign.

  Amanda’s mother was probably fussing over her luggage and no doubt redoing herself up to the nines in the Ladies’. Amanda’s vanity was nothing compared to Mummy Langan’s. Although, Andrew thought chuckling, these days the woman needed as much Polyfilla as she could get.

  His stomach growled with the hunger, and he was just about to pop down to the Sandwich Bar near the bookshop, when a glut of passengers with Aer Lingus tags on their bags came through arrivals. There must have been some delay with the luggage then, Andrew thought, deciding that he’d better be here when Mummy and Daddy Langan did come through or there’d be Holy War.

  He could always grab something on the way back to the hospital anyway. Luckily, he was one of those people who couldn’t hear much when his jaws were moving, so he’d be spared the worst of Mummy L’s annoying high-pitched rants about how the flight was delayed, and the luggage was lost, and how the air-hostesses had some cheek because they didn’t kiss her fat feckin’ arse.

  He began scanning the faces of the passengers, just in case his in-laws had changed at all since the last time he’d seen them, which in Andrew’s opinion wasn’t long enough ago. Just then, he stiffened as he thought he caught sight of a familiar face. It couldn’t be, could it? Andrew blinked and looked again like they always did in the movies. He almost went to wave but then, he thought, no, he was wrong it couldn’t possibly be …it feckin was!

  Should he go over and say hello and … no, there was no time because here were the Langan’s waving condescendingly and pointing to their bags. As if he was some thick hotel porter or something, Andrew thought, irritated, as he approached them.

  “Hello there! Did you have a good flight?” he asked, kissing Mummy L on the cheek and almost retching at the whiff of her probably expensive, but definitely manky perfume.

  “Don’t talk to me,” Amanda’s mother waved a dismissive arm. “Don’t talk to me about that flight. People just don’t know a thing about customer service these days. Can you believe that they actually tried to charge me for a glass of Perrier? How tacky.”

  Andrew decided there was no point in asking if the two stingy feckers had anything to eat – no doubt Mummy would have gone apoplectic at the thoughts of paying five or six euro for a chicken sandwich. Good, that meant they’d have to get something on the way to the hospital. His stomach growled approvingly.

  “Well, you’re here now and you’ll be glad to know that Amanda’s doing fine and really looking forward to seeing you,” he said, slightly annoyed that they hadn’t even bothered to ask.

  “Honestly the only thing I’ll be glad to know is that the car is parked close by and ready to take us away from this poor excuse for a cowshed.”

  Andrew picked up the bags and followed them out to the carpark. He sighed deeply. It was going to be a long journey back to the hospital.

  Olivia sat in her kitchen, waiting impatiently for news of Adam. She hadn’t heard a thing from Matt since he and Catherine had gone to the hospital the night before, so she had no idea if Adam was still in danger.

  She was reluctant to call – the phone would probably be switched off anyway if he were in the hospital – and she was even more reluctant to call Catherine at her house. She had phoned Crumlin Children’s Hospital earlier that morning, but because she wasn’t family they wouldn’t give her any information about his condition.

  At around midday, she got a call from Leah. The poor thing was dreadfully upset and embarrassed about her behaviour the night before. “I made such an idiot of myself,” she wailed, mortified. “Matt must think I’m a lunatic.”

  “Don’t be silly, of course he doesn’t think that,” Olivia said, and went on to explain that Leah’s behaviour was the last thing on Matt’s mind at the moment.

  “Give him my best regards when you hear from him, won’t you?” Leah said. “Oh, and while I think of it, I got a call from Andrew first thing. He’s the reason I’m up out of bed, actually. Amanda had a baby girl early this morning.”

  “Oh, that’s great news.” Despite her own concerns, she felt pleased for Amanda.

  “Yeah, apparently it wasn’t pretty, and she threatened the midwife with litigation if she kept forcing her to push, but it all worked out in the end.”

  Olivia forced a smile at the image of princess-like Amanda going through hard labour. That would have been some sight. Then she thought of something.

  “Is Robin still with you?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

 
; “No, I made her go back to the hotel this morning. I felt awful about her having to sleep on my lumpy couch when she should have been in sumptuous luxury. She knew me and my hangover wouldn’t be great company today, but I’m meeting her again before she heads off to London.” She paused slightly, and Olivia knew what was coming. “Can you ever forgive me? I just wasn’t thinking straight. I really didn’t mean to drag everything up. It must have been hard enough for you as it was, seeing her again.”

  “Don’t be silly – we were bound to come face to face at some stage,” she replied, trying to keep her voice light. “Anyway, you should go back to bed and try and sleep that hangover off.”

  “I think I’ll have to,” Leah moaned. “At the moment I feel like my head is about to split in two. But let me know what happens with little Adam, will you? And try not to worry.”

  “I will – and I won’t.” She went to say something else but hesitated. “Talk to you soon.”

  “You too, bye.”

  Olivia hung up, realising that just then she’d been about to ask something else. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about it, as she’d thought about it many times before.

  After all these years, surely they had more to say to one another. Didn’t Robin have any questions, didn’t she wonder? Had it been that easy for her to shut it all out of her life?

  Or was it that Robin simply didn’t give a damn?

  51

  Robin sat in her hotel room, trying to decide what to do until her mum arrived that evening.

  She had nothing on today, and there had been no point in staying any longer at Leah’s. The poor thing was in bits, and not just with her hangover. She’d apologised over and over again, trying to convince Robin that Kate simply didn’t know better and that she’d always been unnecessarily harsh on her.

  Robin didn’t care what Kate thought. But why was it so easy for Olivia to forgive her? Why had she always made excuses for her? Why hadn’t she gone beserk when Robin had let her down? Many times over the years she had tried to imagine what she would have done in Olivia’s situation. She didn’t think she could forgive and go on as if nothing had happened, like Olivia had.

  Olivia had been so calm, so friendly last night at dinner that it was almost unreal.

  She checked the time – it was just after one pm – just after eight New York time. She should catch Ben before he left for his morning jog. Ben religiously went for a jog every morning, even on Sundays.

  “Hey. How’s it all going over there?” His friendly voice cheered her up instantly, but at the same time made her miss him even more.

  “It’s OK, a bit tiring. The journalists just ask the same questions over and over again. They don’t really need to talk to me – all they need to do is copy everything directly from the press release.”

  “Get out of that – I’ll bet you’re loving all the attention,” he laughed.

  She raised a smile. “Well, I’ll admit I did enjoy the first TV one, apart from the dreadful make-up.”

  “I hope you kept me a recording – I’m dying to find out if you come across like you have an American twang.”

  “No – that would be you,” Robin teased him.

  “So what else is going on over there? Did you get a chance to see your mum or your friends? What about Leah?”

  “I’m meeting Mum this evening, and I was out with Leah last night for her birthday.”

  “Great – I’m glad you got the chance to meet up, although I hope you didn’t bump into any old flames or anything?”

  Robin smiled sadly. If only he knew.

  “No.”

  Then she heard their apartment intercom ringing in the background.

  “That’s probably Dave. He’s tagging along this morning. The poor guy is desperate to get rid of his love-handles.”

  “I’d better go too. I’m on the hotel phone, so I’m sure it’s costing me a fortune.”

  “Bill it to the publishers,” he said with a laugh. “Look, give me a call when you get to London. I wish I could have gone with you, Robin – I think I’m more excited about this than you are.”

  She smiled. “I’ll be home soon and I promise I’ll tell you all about it. In the meantime, you’d better let poor Dave in before those love-handles get any worse.”

  “OK, I’m going, I’m going. Love ya lots and tell your mum I said hello, OK? Bye.” With that, Ben hung up.

  Robin replaced the receiver feeling bereft. He seemed so far away and in all honesty she felt a bit lost.

  She missed him desperately, much more than she’d expected. He really was the most important person in her life now, the only one who trusted her and loved her for what she was.

  And yet she’d always been so unwilling to yield fully to that, to accept his love for her at face value. She supposed it was because she’d never been really able to convince herself that she was worth loving. After the mistakes she’d made, why should she deserve it?

  Coming home had been hard, and although Robin had always known deep down that she’d have to do it eventually, visiting the graveyard the other day had been even harder. But still she had to do it.

  She’d felt like an interloper standing there, reading the headstone inscription. It was all so surreal. She noticed how well Olivia was taking care of the grave; it was obviously regularly attended, and she’d recently left some fresh flowers.

  She saw too what must have been little Ellie’s contribution of some childish paintings. At this, a lump came to Robin’s throat as she realised that she really didn’t belong there; she had no right to be there, just as she had no right to be at the funeral all those years ago.

  Not a single day had gone by without a sense of aching regret, regret for not being there and regret for what had gone before. Kate thought she knew it all, but in fact she had no idea.

  No idea how desperately difficult it was for Robin to come home and say goodbye to someone she too had loved, but never had any right to.

  52

  Catherine sat in her favourite spot by the front window, unable to concentrate on anything other than Matt and Adam at the hospital.

  He’d sent her away earlier, telling her to go home and get some sleep.

  But Catherine couldn’t sleep, not when the most important people in her life were in trouble. She didn’t know what she would do if anything happened to Adam. And she knew Matt wouldn’t be able to cope with losing him either, after all he’d suffered after Natasha.

  Catherine sighed. She’d been a fool to think that she could keep Matt all to herself. He didn’t love her. He never had. He was in love with Olivia now, and there was nothing she could do to change that. And now, with all that had happened in the last twelve hours, she didn’t know if she wanted to any more.

  Matt didn’t love her, at least not in the way she wanted him to. Take away the jealousy and she supposed Olivia was a nice enough woman, although she had nothing on Natasha. But Catherine knew that no one would ever replace Natasha in Matt’s eyes – not Olivia, and certainly not her.

  Maybe she should just let them get on with it and she should get on with her own life. She’d get over Matt, eventually – she had no other choice.

  And Conor wasn’t the worst either. What had started out as a little fling had gradually become something more, and only recently, Conor had said something about taking their relationship ‘to the next level’, whatever that meant.

  He was crazy about her, and although she had convinced herself she was only using him to get to Matt, deep down she did enjoy his company. And in all honesty, he was a pretty decent prospect for a girl like her; he had more than a few quid in the bank, and a very nice house by the lake. So, Catherine decided, catching sight of a car rounding the corner at the entrance to the green, maybe she should just forget about Matt once and for all, and concentrate her energies on nabbing Conor before he went in search of someone else.

  The car stopped outside Olivia’s house and a tall, dark and – from what she could mak
e out – attractive guy, got out. He paused outside the house for a moment, as if unsure whether or not he had the right place.

  But no, Catherine decided, shifting her position to get a better view, it wasn’t that, it was more like he was hesitating, pausing for breath.

  Then, feeling more than a little silly, she shook her head. Her imagination really did run away with her sometimes. The poor guy was probably just another handyman, looking to price a job.

  But by the look of utter dismay on Olivia’s face when she opened the door, Catherine knew for sure that this guy was no handyman.

  53

  “What are you doing here?” she gasped, her face white with shock.

  He looked nervously back, his features soft and his expression grave. “I wanted to see you. ’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t but –” he ran a hand through his hair, through those locks that even now she ached to touch. “I … I needed to see you.”

  Why now – today? When she was feeling terrible and even worse, she thought, looking terrible. Her hair was unwashed and still matted from the night before, and she knew she hadn’t bothered removing her make-up. She’d barely dressed herself this morning – her mind had been completely elsewhere, and she just didn’t have the energy.

  “Can we talk? Please?”

  He looked tired and drained, devoid of spirit. He looked … vulnerable. And he was obviously suffering too. “Can I come in at least? Just for a minute or two, and I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but …”

  He looked into her eyes then, and her stomach leapt with the old familiar sense of longing. “I miss you so much, Leah.”

  She knew she shouldn’t, she had to be strong, but it was so hard. “We’ve been through this before. There’s nothing more to say.” Her voice sounded strange and alien, even to her.

  “I know that, and I know you’re probably still very angry with me, but … I just can’t explain how sorry I am.” His voice was thick with emotion. “I made the biggest mistake of my life, I know that. But I also know that I love you.”