by Jane Fallon
He reaches out a hand to her. ‘Mich … don’t … please.’
‘I’ll be in touch. I just need to take it all in.’
She walks out and Adam and I follow. Patrick mutters something to me as I go but I don’t catch what he says.
I wonder if I’ve got away with it, but I know it’s just a rain check. I can only assume that Patrick isn’t blurting out what happened between me and him now because he’s still hoping he might be able to win her round. Once she knows the whole truth there would be no chance. But he will. When it becomes clear Michelle has no intention of taking him back – and I don’t think she will. The lying as much as the affair will leave her unable to trust him again – then he’ll throw it in her face. If he can’t have her, then neither can I.
I don’t think she’ll believe him now, though. Whatever he says.
64
Tamsin
Adam and I travel up to Highgate with Michelle. I tell her I’ll stay the night and he says he will, too, even though I try to persuade him he doesn’t need to. She’s quiet on the journey home. Overwhelmed by the reality of what’s just happened.
We sit up in the living room long after Michelle has gone to bed. I doubt she’ll sleep but I think she wants some time on her own to process everything.
‘Do you think I’ve done the right thing?’ I ask, once I hear her shut the bedroom door.
‘No idea. I don’t see what else you could have done really. She needed to know.’
‘I wish I was blameless in all this, though. I feel like a shit. And a hypocrite.’
He leans over and pats my knee. ‘You can’t change any of it. You’re still going to have Michelle. The rest’ll be ancient history soon.’
‘I don’t think I’ve ever lied to her before about anything. Now I can’t stop.’
He reaches for the bottle of wine we’ve pilfered from Michelle’s fridge, and I hold out my glass.
‘You need to stop beating yourself up.’
I look at Adam. He’s so kind. Such a good person. He’s been attentive to Michelle all evening, anxious to make sure the whole experience was as painfree as it could be. I feel a lump in my throat.
‘Thank you for being here. I’m not sure either of us could have got through it without you.’
‘Oh no. Let’s not start getting maudlin or I’m taking your glass away.’
‘I mean it, though.’
He holds up his hand. ‘Stop it.’
For a split second I wonder what he’d do if I kissed him. I want to. In fact, I suddenly realize I want to do more than just kiss him. I want to launch myself at him and give him a good seeing to on Michelle’s sofa. Mind you, the last time I got into a clinch with someone on a sofa it didn’t turn out so well. And what if I did and he was horrified? What if he said we couldn’t be friends any more because it would be too awkward now I’d made my true feelings clear?
Or what if I did and he went for it, and then I woke up tomorrow morning and thought, What the hell have I done? After Patrick I swore I would never have drunk sex again. With anyone.
I force myself to stand up. ‘OK, bed.’
‘I thought you’d never ask,’ he says with a wry smile on his face.
‘Ha ha.’
I head towards the door. Wave one hand as I go. ‘Night.’
‘Night night,’ he calls after me. ‘And, Tamsin, don’t lie awake worrying about it.’
In the morning at breakfast – made by Adam at his insistence – Michelle says, ‘I want to speak to Bea. I want to hear her side of it.’
‘They will have got their stories straight by now. Whatever she said to you would be whatever they’ve agreed to say.’ I need to keep reinforcing the fact that neither of them can be trusted to tell the truth.
‘Do you think they met up after we left last night?’ she asks sadly. Adam puts a rack of toast on the table.
‘I don’t know. But they definitely will have spoken.’
‘That stuff he said last night about the honey trap. Did he just make that up? I mean, why would you even think of something like that?’
I pause, just long enough to compose myself, not so long that it looks as if I don’t know what to say.
‘God knows. I think he blames me for you finding out and he just wanted to try to hurt me, too.’
She shakes her head. ‘I feel as if I don’t know him at all.’
‘Are you sure you should be going in to work today?’ Adam says, sitting down at the table with us.
‘Oh God, yes. I’ll go crazy if I just sit here.’
‘Well eat then.’ He passes her the toast, then the butter. I half expect him to cut it up into soldiers and feed it to her. ‘You need to keep your strength up.’
‘You can tell he’s a teacher,’ I say and he pulls a face at me.
‘Thank you both,’ Michelle says and a tear drops onto the piece of toast she’s halfway through buttering.
‘You’ll be OK,’ I say. ‘I promise.’
65
Bea
Obviously I will be phoning in sick today, hiding in my flat, head down, tail between my legs. Trying to think about damage control.
As I walked home from Angel tube last night – having hung around discreetly outside the hotel for about fifteen minutes in the rain, I then lost my bottle and headed to the tube station before anyone caught me – I got a call from Patrick. An almost unprecedented actual real-life phone call. When I heard my secret mobile ring this time, though, there was no flurry of excitement. Only dread. I knew he wasn’t calling me to indulge in a bit of phone sex.
‘Fuck!’ he said when I answered. ‘She’s gone home with Tamsin. She’s told me to stay away. What am I going to do?’
‘Do you want to come over?’
‘No! I need to stay here in case she decides to come back. I couldn’t have her think I was with you.’
Ah. Right. ‘Do you think she might?’
‘I don’t know. I doubt Tamsin would let her. How did they know, that’s what I don’t understand.’
There’s a tiny hint of accusation in his voice, as if he thinks I might have told someone our secret.
‘No idea. Adam says he saw us together, but we never are together outside of hotel rooms, so that can’t be true.’
‘Fucking Tamsin,’ Patrick spits. ‘We should have been more careful.’
‘Why don’t I come back down to the hotel? We can try and work out what to do.’
‘Are you crazy? What if Michelle does decide to come back here?’
I have no desire to bump into Michelle again. Ever. But it’s getting on my nerves that his only concern seems to be where he stands with her.
‘I can’t go in to work tomorrow,’ I say. I’ve stopped on the corner of my road. Any closer to home and my signal will disappear before I can make it up to Sarah’s room.
‘If she tells her dad, then I’m done for,’ Patrick says, ignoring what I’ve just said. ‘He’ll never give me the Truth Channel job. And he’ll find a reason to oust me from Home Improvement. Shit!’
‘At least you’ve got the experience to get something else.’
He laughs. It’s more of a snort actually. Dismissive. ‘Yes, if my own father-in-law – the man who promoted me years prematurely according to half the industry – thinks I’m not capable, then I’m sure they’ll be forming a queue to employ me.’
‘So set up on your own.’ His self-pity is starting to get on my nerves.
‘It’s not that easy, Bea.’
‘We
ll, let’s hope Michelle sees sense and takes you back then, eh? After all, we couldn’t have you actually needing to make your own way in the world.’
He ignores the sarcasm.
‘Don’t tell her about me and Tamsin. She might contact you …’
So this is the reason he’s called me.
‘Why not? I thought that was the whole point, you wanted to pull her under the moving train with you.’
‘Not yet. Not until I know it’s definitely over with Michelle. If she finds out about that she’ll never change her mind.’
Enough.
‘I have to go. I’ll talk to you soon, OK.’
‘Promise me,’ he says.
‘Funnily enough I’m not likely to be speaking to her. But if I do I’ll be sure to protect your best interests.’
‘Are you pissed at me or something?’
‘Night, Patrick,’ I say and end the call. Let him sweat.
66
Tamsin
‘Any word from Bea?’ I say to Ashley once it gets to twenty to ten and she’s still not in. Of course I never thought she would be, but I need to keep up appearances.
‘No. Shall I try her?’
‘Give it ten minutes. She might just be stuck on the tube.’
‘Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?’ Ashley says, smiling.
I hesitate. ‘I’d love a coffee.’
‘Of course,’ she stands up. ‘Skinny wet latte, no sugar?’
‘Perfect.’
I am still in a state of shock. Last night seems surreal. A bad dream. There’s no turning back now. I have made a lifelong enemy of Patrick Mitchell, Bea’s and my relationship is doomed. My friendship with Michelle could be about to take a serious blow to the stern. It’s all a bit frightening, to be honest. A bit too much.
Concentration is out of the question, so I shut the door to my office and sit there staring into space, waiting for the shit storm to arrive.
There’s a tap on my door and Ashley pokes her head round nervously.
‘I just spoke to her,’ she says. ‘She’s not feeling well so she’s staying at home. She’s been at the doctor’s, that’s why she didn’t call. Apparently he’s told her she needs a couple of days off.’
I almost laugh. So that’s how Bea is going to handle being found out. She’s going to hide.
‘Oh dear. Well … thanks …’
‘I can cover anything you need.’
‘Thank you. I’m sure Lucy will manage.’
Ashley stands there. Clears her throat. ‘Actually, Tamsin, I really would like the chance to do more if that were possible. I have time while I’m on reception and it seems mad for you not to utilize me when you need the help.’
It’s probably the longest sentence I’ve ever heard her say. I think about it for a moment. What’s the worst that can happen? She’ll mess up and I’ll ask Lucy to take over.
‘OK. Let me have a think about what needs doing.’
‘Thank you,’ she says, and I notice that her eyes light up when she smiles.
Ian, Anne Marie and I are sitting in Ian’s office. On a plate on the low table in front of us are a selection of lethal-looking brownies. Packed full of chilli and sea salt, Ann Marie tells us.
‘You have to experiment with bold flavours,’ she says with conviction, like it’s one of the ten commandments.
After a lot of thought I’ve decided that I need to tell them what’s going on – that I have just found out Bea is having an affair with Patrick Mitchell and, given that he’s my best mate’s husband, our working relationship is going to be a little challenged from now on.
‘Bea?’ Ann Marie looks incredulous, and well she might. All I have done for the past year is sing Bea’s praises.
Ian just looks uncomfortable. He’s the kind of person who likes to believe everything is all right with the world and he never wants to hear anything to the contrary.
‘I know. Shocker.’
‘I don’t think it’s grounds to sack her, though.’
‘I’m hoping she’ll have the decency to resign. It’s going to be pretty impossible otherwise.’
‘We can’t have an atmosphere,’ Ian pipes up.
‘I’ll do my best,’ I say. ‘Maybe she won’t even come back.’
‘If she does, perhaps she could work for Ian and Lucy could work for you?’ Anne Marie, ever the diplomat, offers up.
‘No,’ Ian and I say in unison. I’d actually rather take my chances with Bea than try to negotiate Lucy’s self-importance. I imagine Ian is thinking he wants to stay as far away from the drama as possible.
‘How’s your friend taking it?’ Anne Marie says.
‘She’s devastated. Obviously. She had absolutely no idea.’
She dunks a brownie in her coffee, losing a chunk in the process. ‘I have to be honest, I’d always heard he was a bit of a womanizer.’
Unbelievable. ‘Why did everybody apparently know this except me?’
Anne Marie shrugs. ‘Would you tell me if you thought Ian was cheating?’
‘Yes!’
‘Hang on a minute, leave me out of this,’ Ian says.
‘OK, well, not Ian then. Someone you knew I was friends with?’
She has a point. ‘I know, I know. It just makes me feel like an idiot.’
‘Well, it looks like we’re all idiots where Bea’s concerned.’
I sigh. ‘Are you sure I can’t sack her, because it would make me really really happy.’
‘Definitely not.’ Anne Marie is a stickler for the rules. Personally, I hardly think Bea would take me to a tribunal if I slung her out but promised her a reference. Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Surely it’s OK to put this to her: leave now = good reference; stay = bad reference. But what if she then just decides to stay forever? Maybe not.
‘Let’s see if she even comes back,’ I say. ‘I can’t believe she’s going to want to be anywhere near me.’
The next couple of days go by in a haze. Bea stays away, telling Ashley – who I ask to call her again – that the doctor has told her to stay in bed till the weekend. Ashley keeps on top of my filing and alphabetizes the DVDs on my shelves.
In the evenings I go straight round to Michelle’s after work. The first afternoon I find her in tears because Patrick has been in – as she requested – while she was out and has taken some of his clothes. He’s been bombarding her with calls, she tells me, none of which she has answered. He’s left messages saying that he’s staying in a hotel, that it’s all over between him and Bea, that he’ll do anything it takes to get Michelle back.
‘Do you really think there were others before her?’ she asks me as we share a bottle of wine.
‘I do. And I think it had been going on with Bea for far longer than he’s admitting.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I don’t. But that’s what the grapevine is saying.’
‘I should at least talk to him. Give him the chance to tell me the whole truth.’
‘I don’t think that’s going to happen. I mean, talk to him, obviously, but don’t believe everything he says.’
‘Oh God,’ she says, tearing up. ‘I don’t think I can stand it.’
I reach out and rub her arm. ‘It’ll be OK in the end. You’ll feel better.’
‘I’m never going to have a baby now,’ she says. I’ve been wondering whether Patrick might use the baby thing as leverage. I know Michelle will be calculating in her head. Working out that by the time she
’s met someone new – assuming she eventually does – and they decide to settle down and have kids it might be too late for her.
‘Thank goodness you’re not already pregnant, though. I mean, imagine being tied to him forever now you know what he’s capable of.’
‘I don’t know. Maybe a baby would make him change—’
I cut her off. ‘No! No, no, no. You know that’s not the way it works. You’d be left looking after a kid while he ran round and did whatever he wanted.’
I think I take her by surprise with the forcefulness of my reply. I can’t stop there, though.
‘Think what it would be like for the baby. Would you really want to bring a child into an unhappy marriage?’
‘We weren’t unhappy, though, that’s the thing. Or at least I didn’t think we were.’
‘But now you know …’
‘You’re right. I know you are. Shit.’
Her phones jumps into life. Patrick again.
‘I’m going to ignore it,’ she says, turning the ringer off.
I head back to my own place at about ten, asking the cab driver to stop by the dog walker’s so we can retrieve Ron on the way. He greets me as if it’s been fourteen weeks not fourteen hours since he saw me last, and my guilt ramps up a notch. I pay Sharon the extra, check she’s OK to do the same the following night and head home.
I know that Adam is on date number three with Mel this evening. I’ve been checking the time nervously ever since I left Michelle’s. It’s already later than it was when they said goodnight last week. I don’t know why I assume he’ll automatically phone me the second it’s over, but the fact that I haven’t heard makes me fear the worst. I’m tempted to phone him. Do a bit of ‘Oh, sorry! Are you with Mel? I forgot!’ and then casually ask how it’s going, but I know I’m being ridiculous. He says she’s nice. I should just be happy for him. I’m not, though.