by Jane Fallon
The following evening when I get to Highgate, Patrick is there. Standing in their living room glowering at me as Michelle lets me in. My first instinct is to turn and run. My second is to call Adam – who is meant to be joining us later with a takeaway curry – to tell him to hide outside until the coast is clear. I know Patrick hates me, but he’d never physically harm me. Adam, on the other hand, might be fair game. Not that I’ve ever known Patrick to be violent. But then a couple of months ago there were all sorts of things I didn’t know about him that I’ve found out since.
‘What are you doing here?’ he says.
‘I could ask you the same thing.’
‘Yes, but then you’d sound like an idiot because this is my house.’
‘Michelle asked me to come round. I doubt you can say the same thing.’
He turns to Michelle. ‘Mich, we need to talk. Can we just have a bit of time without her around?’
‘I’m not sure there’s anything to talk about any more,’ she says. ‘Unless you want to tell me why you’ve apparently had a reputation at work for years.’
He looks stung. ‘I suppose she told you that?’
‘It’s not true then?’
‘Of course not! This … Bea … is the first time, I promise.’
I make a scoffing noise.
‘Pad, just stop lying to me,’ Michelle says. And while I know what she means, there’s still obviously one lie – or at least one omission – I wouldn’t mind him making.
‘I’m not.’ He can’t even look at me now. Or won’t.
‘There’s no point in you being here,’ Michelle says, her voice wobbling. ‘I think you should go.’
Patrick reaches out a hand towards her and she steps back to avoid his touch. ‘Michelle, please …’
‘If you don’t want to talk in front of Tam then I don’t want to talk at all. You’ll only try to bamboozle me.’
He glares in my direction. ‘Is that what she’s told you? You do know she’s only concerned about herself, right?’
‘I can think for myself, you know.’
‘Don’t listen to her. Don’t believe anything she says.’
Michelle steadies herself on the little side table where, for as long as they’ve lived here, they have both kept their keys. ‘Why would Tamsin lie to me? She’s my best friend. I’ve known her a lot longer than I’ve known you …’
‘You think you know her? You’ve got no idea.’ He flashes me another filthy look and I will myself to stare back defiantly.
‘How did you manage to make this about Tamsin?’ Michelle says, with a strength in her voice that makes me feel both proud and even more ashamed at the same time. ‘Is that all you care about? Some stupid little vendetta? You think Tam’s responsible for our marriage failing because she told me what you’re really like? You don’t think it’s about what you’ve done, not the fact that you’ve got caught?’
‘You want to tell her or shall I?’ Patrick spits at me. I feel my stomach turn over. Here goes.
I fake a disbelieving laugh. ‘Tell her what?’
‘You know what. Do you really want me to go there or do you want to leave so I can talk to my wife in private?’
I level my gaze at him. Will myself to stop shaking. ‘I have no idea what you’re on about.’
‘Fine. Michelle, when I tell you this you’re going to know I’m being truthful because you’ll never take me back once you know. But I need you to see Tamsin for who she really is.’
Michelle looks confused. Looks from Patrick to me.
‘I can’t wait to hear this,’ I say. My heart is pounding through my ears. Remember to act surprised by what he says, I tell myself. Remember to find it laughable.
‘Tamsin and I had sex.’
He looks at Michelle as if to say, What do you think of that?
I guffaw loudly. ‘OK, that is brilliant.’
‘She’s obviously going to deny it, but it’s true.’
‘And when exactly is this supposed to have happened?’ I say. ‘Did we have a threesome with Bea?’
‘Your flat. About four months ago.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Michelle says.
‘It’s true,’ Patrick says. ‘She even sent me a text saying we should keep quiet about it afterwards, but she deleted it that morning she turned up really early. Remember?’
‘How convenient,’ I say.
‘Ask Bea. She even told Bea about it.’
‘That’s enough,’ Michelle says in a strident tone I have never heard her use before. ‘You can leave now.’
‘She knew about me and Bea for ages, but she covered up for me because she was scared of what I’d tell you if she didn’t.’
‘Don’t even mention that woman’s name to me. You think I give a damn about what lies you and … she … have concocted?’
‘How could I have known about it for ages?’ I say. ‘You keep saying you’ve only seen her a couple of times. And did this supposedly happen before or after I sent Bea to honey trap you? Get your story straight.’
‘How long has it been going on? You and Bea?’ Michelle looks at him intently.
Patrick looks at the floor. ‘About four months.’
‘So you were still lying to me even after I found out? How do you expect me to believe anything that comes out of your mouth?’
‘It’s true,’ he says. ‘I swear.’
‘If you slept with me,’ I butt in, ‘how come you were so adamant that Bea was the only one. Or was that another lie?’
He ignores me. Looks at Michelle.
‘Do you really think there’s any chance for us?’ she says. ‘Either you cheated on me with my best friend—’
‘It’s a total lie,’ I say quickly.
‘I know that. Or you made up a story about cheating on me with my best friend just to try and destroy our friendship? Either way, you’re sick.’
He says nothing, turns on his heels to leave. He’s played his full hand and it’s failed.
‘Don’t come round again,’ Michelle calls after him. ‘Don’t call me. Nothing.’
I hear him open the door and then, ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’
‘Bringing takeaway,’ Adam’s voice says. Nervous.
The door slams. Adam appears in the doorway, plastic bags in hand. ‘God, what have I missed?’
I unpack the curry in the kitchen, although I’m not sure either Michelle or myself feel much like eating. I can hardly hold the plastic containers, my hands are shaking so much. I can hear Michelle telling Adam about Patrick’s claims and Adam doing a great job of finding them ridiculous.
‘I imagine he’ll say anything at this point. He’s pretty desperate.’
‘That’s decided me,’ I hear her say. ‘It’s over. There’s no point even thinking about giving him another chance. That he would make up something like that … no, I could never trust him again.’
‘I’m so sorry, Michelle. I wish it could have worked out differently.’
I hover in the doorway.
‘Food’s ready if either of you wants any.’
‘I never refuse food,’ Adam says. ‘And you need to eat something, Michelle, otherwise I’ll be offended.’
‘I’ll come in and sit with you. I’m not sure I can eat, though.’
In the end she does, because Adam keeps offering her tasty titbits and she hasn’t got the strength to keep refusing.
‘Have you never wanted children, Adam?’ she says when he’s practically doing a version of ‘here comes
the train, open wide’ at her with an onion bhaji.
‘God, yes. Been desperate for years.’
‘Are you?’ I say, incredulous. ‘You’ve never mentioned that.’
‘You’ve never asked.’
Michelle persists. ‘Did your wife not want them?’
‘It just didn’t happen, and then we realized we’d made a bit of a mistake getting married in the first place.’
‘So if it worked out with Mel you’d have a ready-made family.’
‘God. Please don’t let me have to take responsibility for that little shit. He’s a monster.’
‘Oh,’ I say, as if I’ve only just remembered. ‘How was your date last night?’
He pulls a face. ‘We went to the cinema. I let her choose.’
He raises his eyebrows expectantly and I laugh. ‘And …?’
‘Dumb and Dumber To.’
‘Ha!’
‘I fear we may not be a match made in heaven.’
‘You can’t just dump her because she chose a rubbish film!’ Michelle says, and she laughs for what seems like the first time in ages. I think how glad I am to have Adam there. It’s like having a walking, talking comfort blanket in the room. He’s such easy company.
‘It’s indicative of more fundamental things. A crap sense of humour. No understanding of narrative. A lack of empathy. Plus I decided I didn’t really fancy her. And I don’t think she fancied me either, to be fair. It wasn’t so much me dumping her as us both finding excuses not to have to meet up again.’
I struggle to keep the smile off my face.
‘He’s such a nice bloke,’ Michelle says later when he’s in the loo. ‘It’s a shame you don’t like him that way.’
I roll my eyes. As if.
‘I’ve made a decision.’ We’re a couple of glasses of wine down. Michelle has been bearing up remarkably well. Buoyed up, no doubt, by Adam’s attempts at cheering her up. I wonder if hearing Patrick say what he said about me was actually a relief. It made it black and white. The grey area of ‘maybe we could try again if he promised to behave’ was gone. The irony of the fact that the one truth he told was the one thing that made her believe he was a liar does not pass me by unnoticed. I don’t feel good about it. How could I? But the end result is what counts.
‘I’m going to move out,’ she says. ‘Let him have the house.’
‘What? No, Michelle, you love this house.’
‘I don’t think I do any more. And this way we won’t have to have a long, tortuous battle. I’ll just take my stuff and rent somewhere. He can take over the mortgage on his own.’
‘This place must be worth twice as much as when you moved in. You can’t just hand all that profit over to him.’
‘I don’t care. If he wants to do the decent thing and buy me out he can, but I’m not going to fight him for it. It’s money I never had in the first place and property prices could plummet again next week and wipe it all out anyway. Will you help me pack my stuff up?’
‘Of course,’ I say. ‘If you’re really sure. Think about it for a couple of days, though.’
‘I will. But I don’t think I’ll change my mind.’
‘You know you can stay with me for as long as you like.’
She reaches over and puts her hand over mine. ‘Thank you.’
‘Good for you,’ Adam says. ‘Move on and don’t look back.’
‘Who said that? Was it S Club 7?’ I say and he rewards me with a smirk.
‘Oh God, I’m going to have to tell my parents.’
‘For God’s sake do it quick, before Julian offers him the Truth Channel. I don’t think I could bear it.’
‘Will you come with me at the weekend?’ she says and I say yes, of course. Whatever she needs me to do.
67
Bea
When the doorbell rings at about half seven I assume it’s someone for one of the others. I’m not expecting anyone. Sad little Cinderella sitting at home on her own, nursing her wounds. So when Ali appears at the door of my room with Patrick in tow, it’s a shock to put it mildly.
My first thought is, Shit, I’m in my PJs, which I’ve been wearing for forty-eight hours straight, with no make-up on and a large comfort sandwich on the go. Cheese and mayo with butter a centimetre thick. I almost certainly have lettuce in my teeth.
I’ve fantasized about him showing up here unexpectedly so many times. Telling me he’s left her. That he can’t live without me. I wait for the high, the nervous euphoria to kick in, but I feel nothing.
‘Sorry, I should have called first,’ he says when he sees the state of me. Ali is hovering in the hallway. Hoping to see some drama.
‘That’s OK,’ I say, shoving the sandwich away.
‘Can I come in?’
‘Sure.’
He shuts the door in Ali’s face. I’m sure the room must stink of old food, stale air and God knows what else, so I open the window a little and flinch when the cold breeze floods in.
Patrick comes up behind me, snakes his arms round my waist, nuzzles into my neck. I’m torn for a second and then I move away, out of his reach.
‘So, what’s happening?’ I say.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know what I mean. Last time we spoke you were desperate to get your wife back. I assume the fact that you’re here means it hasn’t worked.’
He does that thing where he puts his head on one side and narrows his eyes. I used to find it sexy. Still do if I’m being honest. But I will myself to resist. Time to get some self-respect back.
‘I was just panicking. The thought of losing all that familiarity, I suppose. Heading into the unknown.’
‘So you’re saying it was your decision? I thought she’d kicked you out.’
‘She did at first. But then she invited me over this evening and it was obvious she was coming round. That’s when I realized it wasn’t what I wanted.’
God, this man can lie.
‘Does she know about you and Tamsin?’
He nods. ‘I told her. Once I knew I had to end it I thought I should come clean. And give Tamsin what she deserves, obviously.’
‘And does she believe you?’
‘Tamsin will convince her it’s not true. I don’t care any more.’
Right.
‘So, just like that, your marriage is over? And it’s what you want?’
‘We could move in together,’ he says.
‘What about your father-in-law? What about your job?’ There’s no way in a thousand millennia that Patrick would voluntarily throw away the chance to run the new flagship channel. No way.
He shrugs. ‘Like you said, I could set up on my own.’
He reaches an arm out, pulls me towards him.
I look right into his eyes.
‘Do you swear this is your decision? This isn’t just a rebound thing because you know it’s definitely over with Michelle?’
‘Of course not. I love you, Bea. That’s it, I’ve said it.’
‘You are such a fucking liar,’ I say and push him away. ‘You can’t treat me like some kind of booby prize. You were desperate to mend your marriage and you couldn’t give a shit about me until Michelle clearly wasn’t having it.’
‘I was confused …’
‘No. I’m done with being second best.’
‘You won’t be second best. I’m trying to tell you … God, Bea, why are you making this so hard?’
‘Sorry. I know it would be much easier for you if I just went along with everyth
ing you’re saying, but that’s not going to happen.’
‘For fuck’s sake, I’ve lost my wife because of you.’
‘And I’ve lost my job because of you. I can hardly go back now. Plus, for the record, you’ve lost your wife because of you. You’re the one who made promises to her, not me.’
‘This is stupid,’ he says with all the maturity of a toddler who’s been denied a chocolate. ‘If I leave now, that’s it. There’ll be no second chances.’
‘I don’t want a second chance. I don’t want to be someone whose boyfriend is only with her because his wife wouldn’t take him back. It’s humiliating, can’t you see that?’
‘What can I do to convince you that’s not how it is?’
‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘It’s too late for that.’
‘So what am I meant to do now?’
‘I don’t know. Go back to wherever you’re staying. Try being single for a while. Look for another job. Join the priesthood. I don’t care.’
‘I should never have got into this,’ he says, angry.
‘No, you probably shouldn’t. Me neither.’
He stands there for a second, as if he doesn’t know what to do, and then he walks out, slamming the door behind him.
I’d like to say I feel relieved, proud of myself for the stand I’ve taken. I don’t. I get back into bed and I cry into my pillow until Ali brings up two huge glasses of wine and we decide we might as well get drunk.
I’m sitting in my office. No one else is in yet and I’ve had to stop myself from grabbing my stuff and making a run for it several times already. I have no idea what to expect. None.
At first I wasn’t intending to come back at all. It’s clearly not an option for me to carry on working for Tamsin. But then I thought about it for a couple of days and I changed my mind. Why should I be the one to lose everything? She can’t sack me on the spot, I know that much. So my intention is to hand in my notice today (which is one month), book any remaining holiday I have in hand (eight days) and just spend the rest of the time keeping my head down and looking for another job. If Tamsin won’t give me a reference I’m sure I can ask Ian or Anne Marie. It might look a bit odd to a potential employer, given it’s Tamsin I am assistant to, but it’ll be better than nothing. Four weeks. That’s twenty working days. Minus eight. Twelve days to put up with whatever shit she throws at me.