by Niamh Greene
I knew immediately that it was my fault. If I hadn’t invited them to come for lunch they wouldn’t be dead. It was simple. If it hadn’t been for me, they wouldn’t have been at that exact spot in the road when the truck flew round the corner and lost control. It was my fault they were dead. I blamed myself and I knew Tanya blamed me too. She never said so, but how could she not think it? We had lost the best parents in the world all because of me.
I push my pizza away. Whatever appetite I’d had before, it’s gone now. I see Tanya and Al looking at each other. I know they’ve just remembered exactly the same thing.
‘So… no news from Charlie then?’ Al says finally to break the silence.
‘No,’ I reply.
‘You’ve heard nothing at all? Not even a text?’
‘No.’ My voice sounds very small. ‘Nothing at all.’
‘You need to talk to him, Moll,’ Tanya says gently.
She’s right. I know she’s right. But it’s not like I haven’t tried to contact him. I can’t force him to talk to me – so what should I do? Sit outside his office and wait to confront him? I can’t bring myself to do that. I have some pride left, even if it’s only a smidgen.
‘Do you want me to have a word in his ear?’ Al offers, puffing his chest out. ‘I’ll make him see sense.’
‘Thanks, Al, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’ I smile gratefully at him. Truth be told, Al wasn’t overly fond of Charlie to begin with. He never said so, but I know they only tolerated each other because of me. They were never buddies – not like he was with David. If I think about it, the same is probably true of Tanya. She was polite to Charlie, yes. But were they ever really friends?
I shake my head to clear it. I have to stop thinking about David. Trouble is, ever since Minty told me I have to interview him I haven’t been able to think about anything else. He’s everywhere I look – even here. Gianni’s used to be a favourite haunt of ours. If I close my eyes I can see us sitting right where that couple is in the corner, holding hands and laughing over a bottle of Chianti.
‘Molly, are you listening?’
I drag myself back to what Tanya is saying.
‘We want to help you get to the bottom of all this,’ she says carefully. ‘We hate to see you upset.’
If only she knew what was really upsetting me. Because right now what’s on my mind is not the fact that my husband has left me, but that I might be seeing David soon. And that can’t be right, surely? Why am I obsessing about my ex when I should be concentrating on where my husband is and why? A therapist would have a field day with me, I just know it.
‘Yeah, we want to help. So that’s why we need to know how often you and Charlie had sex,’ Alastair says, picking up another slice of my abandoned pizza and biting into it.
Tanya kicks him under the table. I know she does this because Al gives a little yelp of pain before glaring at her.
‘What?’ he asks. ‘You said finding that out was crucial.’
‘Can you, for once in your life, try to be discreet?’ Tanya hisses, her eyes glinting dangerously at him.
‘Moll –’ She composes herself and then smiles at me again. ‘We’re just trying to figure out if you were still, um, close. You know…’
‘Yeah, so can you tell us how often you and Charlie used to do it? On average?’ Al looks at me expectantly.
‘I’m not answering that,’ I say firmly, hoping they’ll get the hint. Some subjects are just off-limits. And my sex life is one of them. I don’t want to discuss it – it’s private. I’m not a teenager any more, I can’t spend my lunchtime gossiping about this sort of stuff.
‘Sex is an indicator of how a relationship is doing,’ Al says. ‘If you two weren’t getting it on, it could be a sign that something was seriously wrong.’
‘Well, obviously something was seriously wrong, Alastair,’ I growl, my temper flaring. ‘He’s left me, or hadn’t you noticed?’
Al’s face falls and I instantly regret snapping at him. But what does he want me to say? That we were ripping off each other’s clothes every night? That we were insatiable? That we couldn’t keep our hands off each other?
That would be far from the truth. Because, if I am brutally honest, things had always been a little quiet between Charlie and me in the bedroom. He was very romantic in lots of ways, that was true, but he wasn’t exactly passionate. He’d never lost control and thrown me to the floor in lust. He’d never grabbed me out of the blue and told me he had to have me right there and then. Sex between us was fine. It just wasn’t… amazing.
At the beginning, I thought it was something that we could work on. OK, so maybe things weren’t naturally explosive between us, but I was sure that if we put our minds to it, we could get it moving in the right direction. Perhaps we just needed a little help.
So, one day, I decided to take advice from an article I’d commissioned for Her about spicing up your love life. ‘Put the Spark Back in Your Relationship’ the article was called, and it described in minute detail what to do if things were a bit dull in the bedroom department. I was confident I could make it work. So I spent one whole lunch break choosing very expensive sexy silk underwear while a snooty sales assistant hovered around me as if she thought I was going to shove half the shop into my handbag and take off. I think she could tell I wasn’t the fancy knickers type. And I’m not usually – I’m a white or black cotton underwear type. I don’t do silk, I definitely don’t do lace and I never do ribbons. But this was an exception. This was going to improve my relationship and finally light the fire of desire between Charlie and me. So I was happy to hand over my credit card to the snooty sales girl because I knew that the extortionate price was going to be worth it. These knickers were going to ignite the passion that was surely just under the surface.
I took them home and spent ages laying a trail of rose petals to the bedroom, lighting candles and spraying musky scent around. Then I clambered into my fiddly knickers, spent about twenty minutes trying to tie the ribbons on the side and lay as seductively as I could manage on the bed, waiting for Charlie to arrive and ravish me. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he walked through the door. It wasn’t lust, or passion, or even curiosity. It was horror. It was only for a second, but it was definitely there and, just like they say in cheap thrillers, my blood ran cold. We both tried to pretend I hadn’t seen his face and we went through the motions, but I could tell his heart wasn’t in it. And when it was over he got up and went downstairs and I lay there wondering what was wrong between us and feeling very scared because the wedding plans were already in full swing. I tried to push it to the back of my mind and ignore what it might mean, but deep inside I knew what I was missing because I’d had that special spark before. I knew what it felt like to want someone with an intense passion that nothing could quell. To turn to jelly at someone’s touch, to quiver with desire from just one look. I knew what it felt like, because that’s what I’d had with David.
‘OK, I’ll give a guess,’ Al says, interrupting my thoughts. ‘You and Charlie did it twice a week – am I close?’
If only that were true. I say nothing and concentrate on fiddling with the pizza crust.
‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ He punches his fist in the air and gives a little yelp of victory.
‘Oh my God.’ Tanya’s mouth is open with shock. ‘Is that all? Really?’
Tanya seems to think that having sex twice a week is shocking. What if she knew the truth? That we hardly had sex at all, even on honeymoon?
‘That’s not so bad, is it?’ I say. I have to pretend we were doing it at least that much or she’ll have a coronary.
‘Connor and I still do it five days a week – at least. We did it twice yesterday.’ Tanya’s smile is wide.
‘Yeah, and I get loads – who could resist me? Have I told you about my new man? He’s a prison officer called Butch, and let me tell you he really lives up to his name! This man has muscles in places you can only imagine!’ Al giggl
es and then gives Tanya a little high five. They grin happily at each other. They’re delighted with themselves.
Until they see my face.
‘I’m sorry, sis,’ Tanya says, looking uncomfortable. ‘It’s just that you’re newlyweds. Surely you should be bonking each other’s brains out?’
I know she has a point, but I don’t want to think about it.
‘Actually, Molly –’ Tanya glances at Alastair and then clears her throat. ‘We need to ask you something.’ She looks at Al again and he nods at her to continue.
‘What?’
What else can they possibly ask me? What our favourite position was?
She takes a deep breath.
‘Do you think Charlie could be having an affair?’
‘That’s ridiculous,’ I say automatically.
And it is. Charlie wouldn’t cheat on me. He may have left for some unknown reason, but having an affair with another woman isn’t one of them.
‘We think it might make sense,’ Tanya goes on slowly. ‘It certainly explains what’s happened, don’t you think?’
‘Yes, because if he’s been shagging someone else behind your back, that’s why he hasn’t been shagging you, pet.’ Al leans across and pats my hand.
Tanya kicks him under the table again and he howls with pain.
‘What Al is trying to say is that all this is very weird. I mean, he just ups and goes, no explanation, no call…’
‘But he can’t be with another woman,’ I say. ‘He’s not the type.’
We’re only just married. He wouldn’t have had time to meet someone else… would he?
Tanya looks at her plate but says nothing.
‘Do you have another explanation for it then?’ Al asks. ‘Do you think he’s gay maybe?’
Al looks like he thinks this mightn’t be a bad thing. ‘Maybe he wants to explore his sexuality?’
I try to think. There must be a reasonable explanation for all this.
‘Perhaps… perhaps he’s having a mid-life crisis,’ I suggest.
He did ask me if he looked fat in his cargos a while back. And he’s been doing all that running and working out.
‘Yes, that’s possible,’ Tanya says, pouring water from the earthenware jug into her glass.
‘Or maybe, just maybe, his mid-life crisis was when he proposed to you,’ Al says. ‘Maybe he proposed because he panicked.’
‘Panicked?’
‘Yes. He’s nearly forty and he panicked because he hadn’t ticked every box on his life’s to-do list. So he decided to get married. To the first woman who said yes. That’s you. Then he realized what a big mistake he’d made. So he bolted.’
I feel sick. Is Al right?
‘Or… or maybe he married you on the rebound!! That could be it.’ Al’s eyes gleam as he changes tack.
‘What?’
Tanya puts her head in her hands.
‘Maybe he was in love with someone else, they broke up and he married you by mistake. It happens all the time.’
‘I think that’s enough theories to be getting on with, Al,’ Tanya says, shaking her head at him to keep quiet. ‘What we’re trying to find out is how well do you really know Charlie, Moll?’ Tanya takes my hand in hers. ‘Everything happened so fast between you. What do you know about his relationship history, for example?’
I gulp. Charlie and I had never really discussed previous relationships. For lots of reasons.
‘Molly, I know this is awful, but you have to think about it,’ she goes on. ‘Could he have had another woman? Was there anything to suggest that might be possible?’
I can’t speak. Tanya takes this as a sign to keep talking.
‘You have to face facts. Charlie has left you for no obvious reason. He might be cheating on you. It could explain why he went so suddenly.’
‘Yes,’ Al chimes in. ‘He’s having it off with someone else. Probably a blonde with big boobs.’
‘That can’t be true,’ I manage to stutter.
‘Why do you think that?’ Tanya says.
I pause, grasping around for something convincing to say. ‘Because, because… he’s not a breast man.’
‘Sorry?’ they both say together.
‘You said he’s cheating with a busty blonde. He’s not into boobs – he prefers bottoms.’
I have no idea if this is true. Charlie never really expressed a preference for either, but I can’t say that now.
‘Um, I was making a generalization, sis,’ Tanya says. ‘Maybe he’s not into blondes with boobs, maybe he’s into brunettes with big bums. The point is, you have to consider the fact that he might be playing away from home.’
‘That’s impossible.’
‘I wish it were.’ Tanya looks into my eyes. ‘I am speaking from experience, remember?’
She’s right. Nearly all her ex-boyfriends have cheated on her. She has officially had her heart broken five times.
There was:
a)The bloke who dumped her when she told him her real age (I can’t tell anyone what that is: she has me sworn on pain of death never to reveal it. Besides, even though we’re sisters, I can barely remember myself, she’s been lying about it for so long).
b)The guy who broke up with her when his mother said she wasn’t good enough for him (she was better off without him: he still brought his laundry home to Mummy every week).
c)The man who ran for the hills when she gave him a key to her flat (he said he had a fear of heights and her apartment was on the ninth floor).
d)The fella who jumped ship when she suggested a mini-break to Wales (he then emigrated to Australia with his next girlfriend).
e)The man she dated at work (he broke it off by internal email when she got promoted).
She definitely surpasses me in the heartbreak stakes – or she used to, until this most recent episode. Now I outrank her: a husband leaving you straight after your honeymoon definitely outstrips even her impressive record. And besides, she’s been perfectly happy since she met her new boyfriend, Connor. She’s calm and content – like I’ve never seen her before, in fact. Maybe it has something to do with the passionate nookie she and Connor are having on the breakfast table every five minutes.
But Charlie wouldn’t cheat on me. Or would he? How do I know what he’s really capable of? I never thought he’d leave me, but he has. How well do I know him really? A chill runs up my spine and I shiver.
‘Charlie isn’t like that,’ I manage to say. I hope.
Another look passes between them.
I struggle out of my seat and reach for my bag.
‘I have to get back to work.’
‘Don’t go,’ Tanya says. ‘Have a coffee at least.’
‘Yeah, and what about dessert?’ Al pipes up. ‘We could order some chocolate fudge cake to share?’
Chocolate fudge cake. That’s the dessert that David and I used to split. He always used to tease me that I never could share fairly and that he only ever got a mouthful. Suddenly my chest aches. I have to get out of here – fast.
‘I have to go.’ I grab my things and then sprint out of the restaurant before they can say anything else. Because if they do I might just burst into tears.
Tanya and Al think Charlie is having an affair. They think that’s why he left me. They actually believe he left because he was seeing some other woman. Having sex with some other woman. It sort of makes sense. An affair. Why didn’t I think of it before? Most women would have jumped to that conclusion, but it didn’t occur to me. Charlie could be having an affair. He could have a mistress. Do they call them mistresses any more? That’s a bit 1980s bonkbuster, isn’t it? Not a mistress then – a lover. Charlie could have a lover. And if it is true, then how do I feel about it? Sick? Repulsed? Betrayed?
No, none of those. It’s something else, something I can’t put my finger on just yet.
Suddenly I feel bile rise at the back of my throat. Could they be right? Could Charlie be having an affair – is that why he left so suddenly
? Is he secretly in love with someone else? But how can that be when he told me he adores me? That he can’t live without me? He was the one who proposed so quickly, after all. It’s not like I pursued him; he did all the chasing. So now that he’s caught me, why has he run so fast in the other direction? None of it makes any sense. And there’s something else niggling me as well, something about the thought of him having an affair that I can’t quite put my finger on. That glass of lunchtime wine has made me feel a bit fuzzy. It’s probably a good thing I didn’t have a second.
Right then my phone beeps and I rummage in my bag to answer it. It could be Minty wanting to know where I am – we have an afternoon meeting I can’t be late for. I should grab a strong coffee on the way back to the office: that wine has definitely gone straight to my head, and I don’t want her to suspect that there’s anything amiss.
‘Hello?’ I try to sound sober and together.
‘Hi, Molly!’
It’s not Minty, it’s Samantha. I’d recognize her cheerful voice anywhere.
‘Great news!!! David Rendell has agreed to the interview. He can do the day after tomorrow at twelve. I just had to call you when I heard – I’m so excited!!’
‘Um, that’s a bit short notice, I’m not sure if I can…’
My mind is racing. That’s far too soon, I haven’t even got used to the idea of seeing David again. I need to prepare. I need time, lots and lots of time. A week or two, at the very least.
‘But you have to!’ Samantha screeches. ‘The publicist said Elle wants him as well! It’s us or them!!’
‘We’ll take it,’ I say quickly. I know I have no choice: Minty would skin me alive if we lost an important exclusive to a rival magazine.