My Husband's Lie: A page turning and emotional family drama

by Emma Davies

  I get up when I can no longer bear to lie in bed and, once I’ve tidied the kitchen, made tea for us both and packed lunches for the girls to take to school, there’s nothing left for me to do but confront my thoughts. I still can’t believe I didn’t know any of what had happened but what haunts me the most is the fact that if something like this could be hidden from me for so long, then so could the truth.

  Drew gets up and tries to start a conversation a few times, but it stalls after the first sentence. He doesn’t know how to make things right between us and I’m not sure I want to let him just yet. To find out those things about my past is bad enough, but to discover that they’ve been kept from me by someone who I thought shared everything is proving the hardest pill to swallow. Because this isn’t just about me.

  I have a sudden vision of my mother as I go to wake Chloe. Is this what it was like for her? Putting on a brave face in the aftermath of the accusation, pretending as if everything is normal? I feel like I’m looking at myself from the outside in; as if someone else is occupying my body and I’m just an observer. And it strikes me that I had no idea what Mum was going through either. How she felt. And I know I’m going to have to talk to her.

  ‘Come on, sleepyhead,’ I cajole, cuddling up to Chloe’s warm body as I sit on the side of her bed to nudge her awake. She’s always been the hardest one to shift in the morning. Lauren, on the other hand, is generally up with the lark and is already downstairs having her breakfast. I pass my hand over Chloe’s hair, lingering for a moment to stroke it away from her face. I know how much she likes it, she’s just like me in that regard, always comforted by the sensation. I’d give anything to climb into bed alongside her, to hold her close and breathe her in, hoping that time will stand still and she will never be hurt, never be scarred by life.

  Reluctantly, I draw away. However much I want to preserve this moment, the hands of the clock are moving and the last thing I want today is to have to nag her about being late. Whatever else happens, I’m determined that she will have the best of me this morning, that’s all I can give her, Lauren too.

  Drew is chatting quietly with her in the kitchen, sitting side by side at the breakfast bar, their shoulders touching. He looks up as he sees me walk in and I know he feels it too, the heartstring-tugging pull of responsibility we have for these two small people. That we’re the only ones who stand between their happiness or sadness and we have to get it right. He smiles warily, in acknowledgement.

  I’ve already asked him to take the girls to school this morning and he readily agreed, taking over the chivvying and checking that everything is ready for the day ahead. For so long it’s been a routine that he took no part in but, now that he’s working for himself, it’s something he hopes to change. I have to wonder how any of this is going to work out.

  He’s by the door now, collecting coats and school bags, handing them out as the girls come to kiss me goodbye. And then they’re out the door, into the damp fresh air to wait for Tilly. It surprises him when I collect my coat from its hook.

  ‘Oh, are you coming with us?’ he asks, but I shake my head.

  ‘No. I’m going to see Anna. She doesn’t teach first thing on Tuesdays because Rob takes assembly first. In fact, he’ll be walking Tilly to school this morning, which means she’ll be on her own.’

  I thought my voice was light but Drew arches his eyebrows. ‘Is that wise?’

  ‘Maybe not, but I’m going anyway. And you can look at me like that all you want. Anna has definitely heard some of what’s been said, and I want to know how much. I also want to know what she thinks. If we’re about to have our lives made hell then forewarned is forearmed.’

  ‘I see, and that’s my fault too, is it?’

  ‘Well, we wouldn’t have moved here if I—’

  ‘Hadn’t been so blinkered in your determination,’ interrupts Drew. His voice is barely above a whisper but there’s a hard set to his jawline.

  I ignore his comment and watch them go, standing in the hallway for a few moments until I can no longer hear Lauren’s chattering down the drive. The silence of the house echoes around me. I close the door quietly, suddenly feeling incredibly small. And very alone.

  I’m not sure that going to see Anna this morning is such a great idea either. It seems a little like rubbing salt into the wound but, the more I think about how she behaved yesterday, the more I realise that Anna knows exactly what’s been said, and, more to the point, she’s already formed an opinion on it. I have to know where I stand.

  Anna is obviously enjoying the quiet solitude of an undisturbed cup of tea as she leads me into her kitchen. A mug sits on the table, an open magazine beside it. Although she refills the kettle to make another, I’m surprised to see a look of resignation on her face. I don’t think that would have been the case, before. It annoys me.

  ‘Actually Anna, don’t worry about making me a drink, I’ve not long had one.’

  She frowns, possibly at my tone, possibly at the recognition of her own thoughts. ‘I wondered if I might see you today,’ she says, slipping back into her seat. ‘When you left yesterday, I…’ Her gaze drops to the table where her fingers play with the edge of a coaster. ‘Did you go and see Stacey in the end?’

  I sit down opposite, tucking my hair behind my ears. ‘I did,’ I reply. ‘And I wondered if I might talk to you about it.’

  ‘Yes of course.’ She adjusts her position, resting her hands one on top of the other, and I realise that this is a side of Anna I haven’t yet seen – the listener, fulfilling the obligations of her pastoral role. But it isn’t a stance I thought I’d ever see her adopt with me.

  ‘Could we not do this?’ I say. ‘I’m not here as just another parishioner, Anna. I came here as a friend.’

  She sits up a little straighter. ‘Yes, of course you did, sorry, force of habit.’ She gives a tight smile but her position doesn’t alter.

  ‘You’ve obviously heard about my dad,’ I begin. There’s no point in beating about the bush.

  Anna fidgets nervously. ‘It’s a lot to take in, Thea, I—’ She catches my expression and stops. ‘It’s just a shock, that’s all. I really never thought that it would involve…’

  ‘Well, that makes two of us.’

  Her eyes meet mine.

  ‘I’m not joking… Really, Anna. Up until yesterday I had no more idea than you.’

  She looks away. ‘Shit,’ she says quietly.

  ‘Yeah, bit of a bastard, isn’t it? Finding out that your whole childhood might have been a lie. That your dad wasn’t who you thought he was.’ I pause for a moment. ‘Did you think I already knew, is that it? Jesus, did you honestly believe I could have come back to live here knowing that?’

  ‘Well I… I didn’t know what to think.’

  ‘You still don’t.’

  ‘No, not really,’ she admits.

  ‘Well again, that makes two of us.’ I give a weak smile. ‘But I promise you, Anna, I don’t remember anything about this from my childhood. We moved away when I was eleven… Now, at least, it’s obvious why. But at the time, I had no idea that anything out of the ordinary had happened. I came back to Pevensey in good faith, wanting what’s best for my family. A new life for us in the country…’ My voice catches as tears begin to well. ‘In a place where we’d all been so happy. I can’t believe I could have got it so wrong…’ I lift my chin a little.

  Anna is rubbing one thumb along the top of the other. She has no idea what to say.

  ‘What did Stacey actually say to you?’ I ask, eventually. ‘Is it all round the village…?’

  Anna grimaces in reply. ‘I’m sorry, Thea, maybe she just said it to spite me, knowing that we’re neighbours, I don’t know, but I couldn’t ignore it.’

  I open my mouth to speak then suddenly close it again, confused. ‘Hang on a minute. Why did she want to spite you?’

  A tightness passes over Anna’s face. ‘Never mind,’ she says. ‘That has nothing to do with this.’ She shakes her head.
‘Besides, I don’t think people like Stacey need a reason to say the things they do, but it was what she said, Thea. People are… Well, we’re all parents. I think they’re a little bit freaked by it.’

  ‘People…?’ Heat prickles at my neck. ‘What did Stacey actually say?’

  Her head drops as a wave of colour rushes up her neck and over her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry, Thea,’ she whispers. ‘But she said your dad was a child abuser.’

  No speculation. No reference to the fact that he was questioned but that’s all. No mention that he was never charged, that he had an alibi. Just a bald statement of Stacey’s opinion. She has proclaimed herself judge and jury.

  It’s even worse to hear someone else say it. Bad enough to have those words reverberating in my own voice, but to hear them said by someone else… It makes them real. And suddenly more dots are joined; the bigger picture is becoming clearer. My anger flares into life.

  I look down at the grain on her table, letting my eyes trace its whorls and curves. ‘And you think it’s true?’ I say finally.

  She peeps across at me, trying to gauge my reaction. ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘You have actually, Anna. Pretty much you have. By everything you’ve said and done since you spoke to Stacey. Before that even, when you maybe heard little whispers.’ She looks away and I know I’m right. ‘You know, what would have been really nice was if you’d come and spoken to me about it. Did it not occur to you that I didn’t even know?’

  Her eyes widen.

  ‘But what’s almost as bad as having my whole childhood and the memory of my father called into question is that someone could use what they know, or rather think they know, for their own ends. That doesn’t just make me upset, Anna. I’m bloody furious… Who the hell does Stacey think she is to say those things?’

  ‘I think she’s just like that,’ says Anna quickly. ‘I don’t really know how the subject came up, I just… Well, I was in the shop…’ She breaks off, her face still flushed. ‘Thea, I’m so sorry. I can’t begin to understand how something like this must feel, but I wasn’t fishing for information. Believe me, I really didn’t want to know…’

  ‘Then why was I even a topic of conversation?’

  Anna is quiet for a minute, she’s trying to think. ‘I’m not even sure,’ she admits. ‘But gossips don’t need a reason, do they?’ She studies me. ‘Besides, what does this have to do with anything? What does it matter why it was said, isn’t what was said more important?’

  ‘My father was not a child molester,’ I hiss. ‘And whatever else this is, it’s nobody’s business but my family’s. My dad was never charged. In fact, he has an alibi for the night it happened, but I shouldn’t even have to tell you that. And I’m damn sure that Stacey isn’t going to mention it either. If we hadn’t come back to Pevensey no one would be thinking about any of this. No, there’s a reason this has come up now, and it’s got something to do with Stacey.’

  Anna frowns.

  ‘Oh, come on… Can’t you see it? She as much admitted to me yesterday that she’s quite happy to spread malicious lies about me in retaliation for calling her son a bully, when in fact I’ve done no such thing. Not outside of my own four walls anyway. And yet she’s taken that decision… Do you know what I think? Maybe I’m wrong, but I reckon it’s easier to go around spreading lies about someone else than having to admit the truth about her own son’s behaviour. It very nicely deflects all the attention from her. And, let’s face it, who’d want to challenge her about it when you run the risk of becoming victim to her vicious rumours.’

  ‘Thea, you can’t just say stuff like that! Listen, I know you’re upset but—’

  ‘I haven’t even started yet,’ I reply, grimly, warming to my theme. The more I say, the more it seems to make sense. ‘It makes Stacey untouchable, doesn’t it? No one wants to take her on and so we hand her all the power, keeping quiet, never challenging her about Leo’s behaviour. We make it really easy for her to ignore it too. Why acknowledge it if you don’t have to? Yeah, she knows what she’s doing all right. It’s knowing and it’s calculated. And I’m sorry, Anna, but by keeping quiet about what her son did to Tilly you’ve fallen right into her trap.’

  The colour has left Anna’s face, all except for two pinpoints of red in the centre of her otherwise pale cheeks.

  She struggles to her feet. ‘I think you should leave now, Thea,’ she says. ‘I’m sorry. I can see how angry you are, but it’s hardly fair to come around here and take it out on me – or worse, make up stories about someone else, which is exactly what you’re accusing her of. I don’t think Stacey is a particularly nice person, but that’s all there is to it.’

  Her face shows her struggle for control. ‘And I think you’re actually going to make it worse if you carry on thinking the way you are. I don’t really know how you start to put something like this behind you, but making more of it than is necessary isn’t going to help, especially where Stacey is concerned. And, despite what you say, I don’t think I’ve allowed myself to fall into her trap. I think I’m just being sensible,’ she finishes rather stiffly, standing over me and clearly wondering whether she should sit down again.

  I don’t really want to go, but I stand up anyway. I’m desperate to find a way to reach Anna, to have a friend to confide in, but I may well have blown it, just like Drew warned. It’s just it seems so obvious to me what’s happening. Maybe Anna’s right, maybe I am exactly like Stacey, throwing up a smokescreen so I don’t have to admit what I’m feeling about my dad, but I’m disappointed by Anna’s reaction, I can’t help it. This is her house though and I shouldn’t have got angry. The realisation brings the threat of tears instead.

  ‘Anna, I’m so sorry…’

  We stand and look at one another for no more than a second, but even that feels too long. The easy manner we had has gone and I know that’s my fault.

  ‘I really didn’t want to upset you. I’ll go but… please can you just remember who it is we’re talking about here? My father, not me, not Drew and not my girls. We’re just the same as we’ve always been.’ I bite my lip. ‘You even said it yourself, Anna, that Stacey told you what she did because we were neighbours. Neighbours, you said, not friends. An unintentional slip perhaps, but…’

  Anna’s face softens a little. ‘What did you expect me to do though, Thea? Just blank it from my mind? You can’t hear something like that and not react.’

  ‘I didn’t expect you to ignore it, no, but I had hoped your reaction wouldn’t be quite so predictable. I’ve done nothing wrong, Anna. And neither has my father; he had an alibi, remember.’

  A tortured look crosses her face. ‘Thea, it isn’t that simple.’ She vents a sigh of frustration. ‘I know you’ve done nothing wrong, it’s not that… it’s just… Look, Rob is a curate… not the vicar, but just his assistant. The vicar has four parishes locally and someday, well, Rob hopes to have his own. Church-going is already on the decline and it’s taken him a long while to build trust in the community. He—’

  ‘Can’t have that tarnished by anything “nasty”… not in his back yard… Yeah, I understand. I understand perfectly.’ I start to move towards the hallway before my tears get the better of me.

  ‘Thea, wait!’ Anna takes a step towards me. ‘For goodness’ sake, I’m Rob’s wife, the curate’s wife, it’s my duty to support him.’

  ‘What, at any cost?’

  She glares at me. ‘Well, what do you expect me to do? What would you do if you were in my shoes?’

  ‘What would you do if you were in mine?’ I counter. ‘Have a little self-respect, Anna. You are allowed to have an opinion of your own, you know.’ I dash a hand across my cheek. ‘I’ll let myself out.’

  I’ve almost reached the front door, aware that Anna has followed me, before I suddenly remember that there was something else I wanted to say.

  ‘Do you know, Anna, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you feel the way you do. I’m sorry you feel the need to choose the lies you’re
being peddled over what’s right, but I’d still like you to remember that my door is always open, should you need to talk any time.’

  The tears are coursing down my face by the time I make it back to the sanctuary of my kitchen. I stand for a moment, staring out the window, looking at the garden where I played so happily as a child, before I break down into choking sobs. ‘Oh, Mum… why didn’t you tell me?’

  Seventeen

  I don’t know how long I stand there before I feel Drew’s arms go around me. I hadn’t even heard him come in, but suddenly he’s there, the only thing that feels solid in my life right now. How on earth did we get here?

  I don’t mean to stiffen, it’s an automatic response to the thought that has flashed through my head. But, before I can rectify it, Drew pulls away. I turn in his arms but the closeness has already gone and the gap between us increases.

  ‘Drew… I—’

  ‘My mistake,’ he says coldly. But there are tears in his eyes too as he takes a step backward. ‘I’ve got work to do,’ he adds and, before I can stop him, he’s turned on his heel, making for the studio.

  I should go straight after him, but I don’t. Because what would I even say? My body gave away what I was thinking, however subconsciously, and to deny it would only make things worse. Drew would see through it in a moment. But I don’t want to stay here either, so close to where he is and yet so far. I feel trapped.

  There’s a band of pain tightening around my head that is growing worse with every passing minute and I know from experience that fresh air and some exercise to release the tension are the only things that will help. Except that I’ve been denied those too. There’s no way I can leave the house; I’ve become a prisoner. And I should be working.