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

by Ella Grey

  “One of the other mothers, Deirdre – she was a newcomer to the estate we were in – and she offered to take him home and keep an eye. The crèche would have normally phoned to ask, but there was a part-timer on that day who thought what the harm. So she let him off with the other mother, thinking she was doing us a favour. Like the neighbour too thought she was doing us a favour. She brought both kids back, and gave them both something to eat. But she didn’t know about…” She stopped, unable to keep going, the pain of it all just too much.

  “He choked on food…?” Matt supplied gently. “Olivia, something like that was an accident, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “He didn’t choke, Matt. He had a serious food allergy and needed medication, specialist medication that only someone with experience could administer. Poor Deirdre didn’t know what to do – she rang her doctor but it was too late.” Olivia looked at him. “My next door neighbour tried to ring me, but stupidly, I had forgotten to bring my mobile, so instead she phoned my mother. But it was too late by then anyway.” She paused again to try and steady herself. “Jake died because I wasn’t there to collect him, Matt, and when it all went wrong, I wasn’t there to help either.”

  Peter had been inconsolable, wanting to blame her, the crèche, poor Deirdre anyone. But ultimately Olivia knew it had been all her fault. She paused for a moment and Matt let her, giving her the chance to collect herself.

  “Within a few minutes of eating the sandwich Deirdre gave him he went into shock and then into a coma. He died before the ambulance came.”

  “I’m so sorry, Olivia.”

  “Afterwards Peter blamed me, even more than I blamed myself. He accused me of being resentful towards Jake, and of the fact that he wasn’t mine, that he was a reminder of what Peter had done. That wasn’t the case – I loved him just as much as if he had been mine. It was terrifying living with the peanut allergy, but …”

  “Peanut allergy?” Matt repeated. “Like your friend Robin’s from last night? I didn’t realise it was so common. Before that I didn’t know anyone else who had …”

  Olivia said nothing more – she just sat there, waiting as Matt’s words trailed off as the realisation hit him.

  “The mother, the friend Peter was with… oh.”

  She nodded, grateful for her own sake, that she didn’t need to explain much more.

  58

  She’d never meant for it to happen, but it did.

  She’d never meant to betray her friend, never meant to fall head over heels for Peter but she did. From the very first moment Robin laid eyes on him.

  He’d known it too way back then, that night Olivia asked her round for dinner, not long after the episode in the cafeteria.

  She remembered the way he watched her, the way he followed her with his eyes, and yet all the time continued to be nothing other than charming and gracious. How he made light of ‘saving her life’.

  “But you did, Peter,” Olivia had insisted. “If you hadn’t helped with that shot, she might have died.”

  “Ah, sure it’s all in a day’s work,” he’d said, laughing it off, but still those watchful eyes were focused on her every movement. It was disconcerting, but strangely exciting too.

  At least it was for a while, until Robin began spending more and more time with Olivia and her diverse group of friends, some of whom like Leah welcomed her into the fold like she’d been around forever, and others like Amanda, who viewed Robin’s unobtrusive persona with suspicion. And she’d never been one hundred per cent sure how Kate felt about her.

  Not to mention the fact that they all seemed to find her condition freakishly bewildering.

  When they were all together, Peter’s behaviour was even more disconcerting, as Robin watched him play devoted boyfriend to Olivia and often wondered if she’d been imagining it all. Feeling an absolute heel for even thinking for a second that her new friend’s man was giving her the eye, Robin resolved to cop on to herself and stop imagining things.

  But one night after a couple of drinks, Peter confirmed her suspicions. “You know there’s something between us, don’t you?” he’d said, slurring slightly. “Something special – a connection.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” she said, precarious exhilaration stirring inside her.

  But it was wrong, and she’d been naïve. In retrospect, she should have confided in Olivia, but she hadn’t known her all that long, and Robin didn’t want her to think badly of her boyfriend, or indeed of her.

  Still, she couldn’t help but be even more aware of Peter after that, disconcertingly aware. Worse, she really liked Olivia and had come to like her even more as time went on. Still, she was like a moth drawn to Peter’s flame; she knew he could be dangerous, yet she couldn’t resist moving closer.

  Then that last summer the gang were all together, for some reason he and Olivia broke up, and Robin finally had a chance.

  They had already begun to go their separate ways, Kate to an accountancy firm, Leah to France to continue her chef’s training, Andrew to work on his new data-provider software, while Amanda, well … she went to work on getting Andrew to propose.

  But Robin made sure she was there for Peter. Although she tried to convince herself she was just being a friend, a shoulder to cry on, she knew deep down it was more than that. She was hoping that he would eventually realise that Olivia didn’t need him, that he’d be better off without her, that there was someone else for him, right in front of his eyes.

  When they finally started sleeping together, Robin felt she had no choice but to raise the thorny subject of Olivia.

  “I’d hate her to find out from anyone else, or worse, horrified for her to think we were carrying on behind her back.”

  “She won’t. But let’s take wait a while before saying anything all the same.”

  Which is why it came as a major shock when, before she realised it, Olivia and Peter were back together and engaged.

  Robin was devastated. By then she’d fallen heavily for him, believing their passionate nights were the start of something special - certain that by her own choice, Olivia was fully out of the picture.

  She tried her best to smile and say all the right things when her friend proudly displayed her stunning engagement ring, and asked her opinion on wedding dresses. Ironically, she and Robin had become even closer by then, since Leah had gone abroad.

  So she had to come to terms with what she’d thought was an blossoming relationship was nothing other than a stop-gap – something to keep Peter occupied until Olivia changed her mind.

  And when later, Robin began throwing up in the mornings and feeling tired and listless at work, she realised that their fling was about to have devastating consequences – for everyone.

  “You have to tell him,” Leah tried to convince her over the phone from France, when Robin, wracked with fear and loneliness broke down and confided in her. “You can’t do this alone.”

  “What else can I do? I’ve just started a job – a junior position with terrible pay and even worse prospects. How can I possibly bring a child up on my own? Olivia is bound to suspect something too – she knows I haven’t been seeing anyone, and the timing is too obvious. Not to mention that I’ve been avoiding her since I found out they were back together.”

  It had all been so bleak, so desperate, that it seemed there was only one way out.

  At college, she and Olivia had always signed up for pro-life demonstrations and rallies. It was easy to be idealistic or moralistic about ‘choice’ when it wasn’t yours to make. Things seemed so much simpler in college, a cosy cocoon where you and your little student societies could all play at politics and at real life. But outside the walls of university - outside that structured framework of right and reason, it was all very different.

  “You don’t have to resort to that,” Leah advised. “You should tell Peter – it’s his responsibility too and I know he’d support you.”

  “But Olivia would hate me.”

 
And Olivia did for a while, Robin knew that. Unbeknownst to her, and ostensibly for her own good, Leah approached Peter and let him know the truth.

  All too soon, the newly reunited couple were there for Robin, and made it known in no uncertain terms they would support her.

  The two, Olivia especially, had been wonderful and helped her through the remainder of her pregnancy. Which made Robin feel ever guiltier for messing up her own and her friend’s life so spectacularly, but which also helped her with her next decision.

  Once they had persuaded her to keep the baby, and not long before her due due, she knew exactly what she had to do.

  “I don’t want the baby, you know that,” she said one day when she and Olivia were alone in her tiny bedsit. “I never wanted it.” Her heart hammered guiltily as she lied. Of course she wanted the baby. Granted not in these circumstances, but still this little life inside her was precious – and hers.

  “Don’t say that, you’re just nervous about the birth,” Olivia said, dismissing her.

  “I mean it,” she persisted. “I don’t want it. If you and Peter hadn’t persuaded me to keep it … I’m not a maternal person, you know that.” Robin grasped at this and tried to convince herself that she really wasn’t maternal, but with each passing day as she felt new life growing inside her, she came to love it more and more. It would be torture, but she knew she had caused enough misery.

  And she also knew she had to try and make amends.

  “You’ll be grand,” Olivia said, but every time Robin looked at her, she could see the sadness and betrayal reflected in her friend’s eyes.

  “I was thinking that maybe you and Peter might take it …?” she went on, trying to make her voice sound casual, as if she was talking about a second-hand TV set, although once she’d uttered that simple remark, Robin felt as though she’d already lost a part of herself.

  “What?”

  “The baby. I was hoping that you two might take it? That’s if you’d like to,” she said, watching Olivia’s face. “I know it’s not ideal, but you’ve always said you’d love a big family.” She tried to shrug off-handedly. “I know it’s not be how you imagined but … chances are I’ll be giving the baby up anyway.”

  For a long moment, Olivia was silent. “Let me talk to Peter …” she said.

  And that was that. Decision made. Robin tried not to think too much about it after that, although inside her heart ached. She made herself imagine that it was Peter and Olivia’s baby from then on in. And by rights it should be theirs. She had made a stupid mistake but at least this could be a way of making up for it somewhat.

  So, by the time the baby was born a little prematurely, Robin had almost convinced herself that she didn’t feel anything for the tiny little thing in the incubator, baby Jake Gallagher. Olivia had picked the name, at Robin’s insistence.

  When she returned from the maternity hospital – lonely and bereft – and found that a job she’d applied for before the summer was hers, and the New York-based firm would sponsor her visa, she resolved to move on altogether. She’d be better off away from Ireland, away from everyone and everything – away from all the trouble she’d caused.

  And Olivia, Peter and little Jake would be much better off without her.

  59

  The following morning, Robin gave another interview about her children’s books on breakfast television.

  The bubbly blonde presenter was doing her best to relax her, but she just couldn’t feel relaxed. The last few days had been torturous and she just didn’t feel like gabbing on and promoting her stupid book.

  It all seemed so shallow and inconsequential.

  There hadn’t been a single day in her life since giving him up that she hadn’t thought of Jake, but especially after meeting Olivia the other night, Robin could think of little else, and the pain was all-consuming.

  Now, she just wanted to go home, back to New York, to Ben and away from all the hurt and regret that being back in Ireland was causing.

  The presenter asked her another question. “These stories won’t just entertain, but will really help the children and the parents of allergy sufferers,” she began. “Do you feel that your own experience helps you understand better than most the issue associated with such conditions?”

  Robin sat forward, deciding she’d better just get it over and done with. “Yes, and it can be tough as an adult living with the condition, but at least I’m old enough to be able to take responsibility for myself.” She paused. “I do know it’s a lot harder for parents. The reason the book came about in the first place was because I saw how hard my partner’s sister found it with her little girl, who suffers from asthma and hayfever. In a city like New York, especially in summertime, it’s very difficult. And of course, she’s now school-going age, so it’s even more worrying for her mother.”

  “I can imagine,” the presenter nodded sympathetically. “So the book did have an effect on this girl?”

  “Yes, it did, but I think it had even more of an effect on her mother – but you have to remember this was all unintentional. I have no idea what it’s like to look after a child with such a condition. I don’t know how it must feel to exist permanently in a state of potential emergency.” She stopped then, her heart thudding against her chest as she realised what she had just admitted. She did have no idea, no idea at all of what Sarah really had to go through.

  Nor Olivia.

  “So, your sister-in-law brought the book to the attention of the publishers?” The presenter glanced almost imperceptibly at Robin’s left hand.

  “No –” Robin went on to explain how she and Ben had provided their own crude booklets for the school and that one of the parents worked on the production team for Bubblegum Press.

  “And then Nickelodeon got in on the act. It’s such an amazing story,” the presenter was shaking her head in awe. “And you never even wanted to be a writer?”

  “Not really. To be honest, I feel a little guilty about that. I’m sure there are thousands of people out there who could have done a better job on these books than I did.”

  “Yes, but you’re the one who had the experience. You knew how to put the message across.”

  “Perhaps,” Robin shrugged self-consciously.

  “So, as a result of your series, hundreds, if not thousands of parents around the world could be helped. Congratulations, Robin. I’m sure every parent watching who has a child suffering from such a condition will be very grateful.” The presenter smiled then, as if to wrap up the slot, but Robin shook her head.

  “I don’t know about that,” she continued, her voice softer and less assured. “I had a friend … a wonderful friend, who sacrificed a lot to look after a nut-allergic child like me. It didn’t just affect her life, it affected her marriage.”

  “Oh, so more experiences to draw from then.” The presenter tried to keep the tone light.

  “The thing is,” Robin went on, the reunion with Olivia, the visit to the graveyard, all of it, really hitting her, “I never really understood how much it had affected her. To be honest, I didn’t want to understand.”

  And that was true, she admitted. She had been so intent on getting over her own pain, her own loss, that she hadn’t really thought about what Olivia had sacrificed. Raising Jake wouldn’t have been easy, plus the fact that he was a constant reminder of Peter and Robin’s betrayal.

  She looked away and her eyes shone with tears. “That’s why I feel there should be more help for parents in general. People seem to think that keeping children away from the food in question is the answer. But it isn’t. The family’s entire way of life has to change and the pressure is enormous. I didn’t really understand that.”

  She didn’t want to understand it, she thought. She was too wrapped up in her own problems, in her own regrets.

  “I see, well, thank you –” Again the presenter tried to wrap things up.

  “But she’s the most kind-hearted, unselfish person I’ve ever known, and I know she did h
er very best for that child.”

  “Did?”

  Robin’s head snapped up then, almost as if remembering where she was. “Yes,” she said sadly. “My friend’s son died actually.” Robin’s eyes sparkled under the bright studio lights, and just then the presenter realised that this bit wasn’t on the press release.

  “Oh, dear – I didn’t know it could get that serious …” Her gaze flickered fearfully to the production crew. Now she was concerned, not for Robin, but for the fact that this slot was running way over time.

  But at this stage Robin was in full flow, as everything seemed to overwhelm her all at once, grief for Jake, for Peter and for the friendship that she had lost.

  “But I think – I mean, I know my friend always blamed herself for that, and she shouldn’t have. She was a fantastic mother and she did her best, more than her best for him. It was a tragedy, but one that was always possible until he learned to look after himself. But in the meantime, there was no one better than Ol – than my friend – to take care of him. No one could have done any better.”

  And that was true too. Despite the fact that Jake was lost to them both, Robin knew deep down that Olivia had done her best for that child, something that she herself could never claim.

  “But you wish you could have helped more?” the presenter prompted.

  She paused, unsure how to word this. “Yes, I should have helped more, and I hope she can forgive me for that.”

  The presenter nodded again. “I’m sure your friend is thrilled you decided to write a book about it.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” she answered sadly.

  “Robin, thank you so much for sharing that with us, and thank you for coming on the show,” she interjected while she had the chance. “Robin’s first book is called Atchoo the Allergic Alligator and will be in bookshops next month.” She turned to Robin. “Best of luck with it all.”