The Accidental Wife

Home > Other > The Accidental Wife > Page 39
The Accidental Wife Page 39

by Rowan Coleman


  ‘So we’re good to go then,’ Jimmy said, smiling and dipping his head forward to kiss her.

  ‘No, we are not,’ Alison said, turning her head at the last moment so that his lips grazed her ear. ‘I know you’re drunk, Jimmy, but didn’t you just hear what I said? Think about what you’re doing; think about why you are doing it and how bad it is going to make you feel if it happens.’

  Jimmy took the one step back that the cubicle allowed and blinked at her. Without warning he sat down on the toilet and dropped his head in his hands.

  ‘OK,’ Alison said, feeling chilled now that the heat of his body was no longer pressed against hers. ‘A little less despair and misery would have been tactful.’

  After a moment’s more hesitation Alison pulled her top back into place and crouched down in front of him. She put her hand on his shoulder and felt it shaking.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Jimmy told her, struggling to control his voice. ‘You’re a nice person. You must think I’m a pig … I am a pig.’

  ‘You’re not,’ Alison said. ‘You’re just drunk and really, really stupid.’

  Jimmy covered his face with his hands and Alison crouched there with him, holding his shoulder until finally the trembling stopped. Jimmy’s face remained covered by his hands.

  ‘I’m going outside,’ Alison said. ‘I’ll ask the barman to make you a coffee. Then I’ll walk you round to Catherine’s and you can tell her you’re going to Croatia. And I think I’ve got an idea that might make her sit up and think.’

  ‘Really?’ Jimmy said eventually. ‘Look, I know I’m drunk as a bastard but I’m sorry for behaving so badly. Catherine’s got a good friend in you.’

  ‘She has,’ Alison said as she straightened up with quite some difficulty. ‘It’s great, isn’t it?’

  The moment that Catherine closed her eyes it was summer again and she could feel the heat of the sun radiate off his body as he pressed her back into the cushions that yielded beneath her like the soft long grass in the park. She felt the warm breeze caress her skin as his fingers deftly unbuttoned her shirt and ran lightly over her breasts, and she was powerless in his arms. More than that, she was seventeen again, fresh and new, with no idea what would happen next, and as long as she was in his arms, she didn’t care.

  His stubble grazed against the skin of her neck as his kisses travelled lower, and Catherine knew that if she kept her eyes closed it would always be summer, that summer long ago when, for a few precious moments, her life had shone like other people’s always seemed to. Then she felt Marc’s hand on her breasts, his teeth on her nipples and she heard him groan. Opening her eyes just a little she saw his dark head, his tawny complexion contrasting starkly against her own alabaster skin and suddenly it wasn’t summer any more. Catherine wasn’t in that park, basking in the warmth of the sunlight, she was half naked on the sofa in her living room, her children asleep upstairs and letting a man she barely knew now, had barely known then, and still had no reason to like or trust, undress her.

  Catherine realised that she didn’t want to be that powerless seventeen-year-old any more because her life had shone brighter since after she knew Marc than it had ever done when she was with him.

  ‘Stop, please,’ she said, stilling his hand and easing herself out from underneath him.

  His hair ruffled, Marc smiled at her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, sitting up a little. ‘I’m going too fast. I wasn’t prepared for how much I wanted you. There’s still something between us, isn’t there, Catherine? Still something really strong.’

  ‘Yes,’ Catherine said, quickly buttoning up her shirt, her fingers fumbling the fastening as Marc watched her.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘I could unbutton that shirt all day long. All night long too.’

  ‘Marc,’ Catherine said steadily, ‘there is something between us but it’s not real. It’s the past. It’s a moment in time where we both were once. A moment that meant a lot to us then, a time we’ve both often wished we could revisit but I think maybe that’s only because our lives now aren’t going the way we want them to, not because we still have feelings for each other. It’s summer fifteen years ago that’s between us, and all the heat and passion we felt then. But it’s not real, Marc. How can we feel anything real for each other when we don’t know each other at all?’

  Catherine could feel the heat in Marc’s eyes as he looked at her. ‘Maybe you’re right but does it have to matter?’ he asked her.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Catherine asked him, wide-eyed. ‘Of course it matters. We don’t feel anything for each other. I don’t love you, Marc.’

  For second Marc looked stung, but then his expression became still and thoughtful.

  ‘I loved you once, a long time ago, but I don’t suppose I love you now. I don’t see how I can when I still love Alison,’ Marc said, looking up at Catherine. ‘I still want you, though, more than anything. Loving her isn’t enough to stop me from wanting you.’

  He leaned forward again to kiss her but Catherine stood up.

  ‘If you love Alison then why do you do this? Why have you tried so hard to see me again if it wasn’t because you thought that being with me again was somehow going to save you? You said you moved your whole family back to Farmington to find me when the only woman that can save you is the one you can’t be faithful to.’

  ‘I do this, I say all of this, because …’ Marc sighed, ‘because I wanted to have sex with you again. You’re a very desirable woman. And because that time we had together back then, when you were seventeen, was special to me. It was a time when I kidded myself I could be just like any other man out there, happy and content. But even that memory is a deceit. After all, it wasn’t so special that I didn’t sleep with someone behind your back. Not so special that I didn’t leave town with a girl who I didn’t know was pregnant because I guessed that you were. Catherine, a lot of the time I like to think that I’m misunderstood, that my nonexistent childhood scarred me and made me into the kind of man I am. Sometimes I like to think that if only I’d met the right person, stayed with the right person, then I could be a decent man, the man I pretend to be. But I think it’s time I stopped pretending to myself as well as everybody else. I’m the man who, loving his wife as much as he does, still pursues other women, including you, because at the end of the day that’s what you are to me, Catherine. Even you, that wonderful golden memory I’ve treasured all this time, is just another woman. And even though I know it’s wrong, right now I don’t care, because I want you and I think you want me.’

  As Catherine looked at Marc, the intervening fifteen years since she had last kissed him settled quietly on his shoulders and he looked his age. Why Marc saying everything that she already knew upset her quite so much she couldn’t quite put her finger on, except that once she had carried his baby and cried for them both when they were taken from her. And because when she’d told Jimmy to leave, it was the thought in the back of her mind of kissing Marc that had partly spurred her on to end it, because she had to end it properly with Jimmy before she could explore any feelings she had for Marc. To discover so quickly that she didn’t have any was quite a blow.

  ‘I think you should go,’ she said.

  Marc drank the remainder of his glass of wine in one and stood up.

  ‘That’s a shame,’ he said. ‘I’d thought we could both help each other through this period of transition.’

  ‘That’s just it,’ Catherine said. ‘For me this is a period of transition. For you it’s your life: this is what your life will always be, moving from one woman you don’t love to the next. I don’t want to be one of them.’

  Marc nodded and shrugged on his coat.

  ‘Funny,’ he said, ‘how people are always so keen to tell me how to live my life. It used to be Alison, then it was my son, then it was your husband and now it’s you. You’re all the same.’

  ‘It’s not the same,’ Catherine said. ‘Alison, Dominic, and even Jimmy try to help you because they care. Because they w
ant the people that love you to have a chance to be able to keep on loving you. But I don’t care. I really don’t care what you do next, Marc.’

  ‘You feel pretty good saying that to me, don’t you?’ Marc said with a hint of a smile.

  Catherine thought for moment and smiled at him.

  ‘Damn right,’ she said.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ Marc said to his wife as she appeared at the end of the path, with Jimmy, whose shoulders were hunched against the chill of the evening, despite the pint or so of hot coffee that was swilling around inside him.

  ‘Hello, dear,’ Alison said, taking his appearance completely in her stride. ‘Pleasant evening?’

  Marc hesitated and looked at Jimmy.

  ‘Your wife despises me,’ he said. ‘She wouldn’t have a bar of me. So at least you know that.’

  Jimmy nodded and stood up straight. He looked down at the rectangle of light where Catherine was standing in the doorway.

  ‘You are supposed to be in London,’ Catherine said.

  ‘I know, but I needed to tell you something work-related,’ Jimmy said. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not here to declare my undying love to you again. I got the message.’

  ‘Come in, Jimmy,’ Catherine said. ‘It’s good to see you.’

  Both Alison and Marc looked back at the smile on Catherine’s face as she let Jimmy in and closed the door behind him, narrowing the rectangle of light into oblivion. The pair of them stood at the end of the path, looking at the shut door.

  ‘So you didn’t score then?’ Alison asked her husband.

  ‘Nope, did you?’ Marc asked her, catching the wistful look on her face.

  ‘No,’ Alison said. ‘If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that you can’t stand in the way of your best friend and true love.’

  ‘And when did you learn that?’ Marc asked her. ‘Fifteen years ago this summer?’

  ‘No,’ Alison said. ‘Just about an hour ago, as it happens.’

  Marc nodded. ‘Can I walk you home?’ he asked her.

  Alison shook her head. ‘No, I think I’ll stick around for a bit longer in case I’m needed. If you could go back, though, that would be good. Next door’s au pair will be wondering where I’ve got to.’

  ‘Leave her to me,’ Marc said.

  *

  ‘Croatia! On tour!’ Catherine exclaimed. ‘Well … I mean, wow, Jimmy, that’s great news! Of course we’ll miss you but you must go. Eight weeks isn’t for ever. The girls and I will manage. They can always phone you and email. You do know how to use email, don’t you?’

  ‘I’ll learn,’ Jimmy said without enthusiasm.

  ‘Well, then,’ Catherine said. ‘Well done.’ She hugged him briefly and as she released him she briskly rubbed his upper arms. ‘Well done, you.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Jimmy said, looking at her. ‘On tour at last with a fairly famous band. Dreams do come true.’

  ‘Yes they do,’ Catherine said, furious with herself that it was such an effort to be happy for him because, after all, it was because of her that he was leaving, because of her that he couldn’t stay. She could at least try to give him a good send-off.

  ‘So can I go up and see the girls? I know it’s late and a school night but …’

  ‘Go,’ Catherine said. ‘Go and wake them up. It’s more important they see you.’

  Catherine sat on the top stair and listened as Jimmy talked to the girls, his voice low, theirs high and questioning.

  ‘How long is eight weeks?’ Leila asked him. ‘How many sleeps is it? Is it longer away than Christmas?’

  ‘No, darling,’ Jimmy told her. ‘I’ll be back by the summer in time for your birthday. And it’s not many sleeps. It’s about … well, it’s a few sleeps.’

  ‘Is Croatia nice, Daddy?’ Eloise asked him. ‘Are the people kind?’

  ‘Croatian people are the nicest people you could hope to meet and it’s a lovely country, with mountains and a seaside and lots of sunny weather,’ Jimmy said. ‘Not that I’ll be seeing any, what with me being a creature of the night and all.’

  ‘Like an owl?’ Leila asked.

  ‘Pretty much,’ Jimmy said.

  ‘I don’t think I want you to go,’ Leila said eventually, her voice very small. ‘I think I’ll miss you too much, Daddy.’

  ‘I’ll miss you both too, darling,’ Jimmy said. ‘So much. But I sort of think I have to go.’

  There was a long silence and when Catherine peeped through the crack in the door she could see the three of them hugging each other desperately. As she watched them together it was as if the sun was already rising in the room.

  ‘OK now,’ Jimmy said eventually. ‘You two had better get back to sleep. I’ll speak to you really soon and Mummy said I can even send emails to you somehow, I don’t know how. Magic, I expect. The time will fly by and when I get back I’ll have about a million presents for each of you.’

  ‘OK, Daddy,’ Leila said sleepily. ‘I’ll pray for you. Love you, Daddy.’

  ‘And me, Daddy,’ Eloise added. ‘I love you too.’

  ‘Love you too, love all of you too,’ Jimmy said. ‘See you later.’

  Catherine had crept back downstairs before he came out of his children’s bedroom. When he did emerge he stood outside the closed door for quite some time, waiting until he could hear their breathing steady and slow as they drifted back to sleep.

  ‘Right then,’ Catherine said. ‘Got your passport? Because it would be awful if you got there and didn’t have your passport and had to come home again.’

  ‘Yep,’ Jimmy said. ‘I picked it up from the boat earlier, so no danger of that happening.’

  ‘Is it in date?’ Catherine asked him.

  ‘Amazingly enough,’ Jimmy chuckled. ‘I had to renew it when we went to Spain with the kids and Mum, do you remember? That was the last holiday we had … Anyway, yes, it’s in date.’

  ‘Travel insurance?’ Catherine reminded him. ‘You need travel insurance. Can’t travel without it.’

  ‘The band takes care of that. They need it, what with all the guillotines and swords. Turns out the undead are very safety conscious.’

  ‘And you’re all packed?’ Catherine said, aware that she was starting to sound like an overprotective parent.

  ‘Two pairs of jeans, my jacket, a shirt and a T-shirt,’ Jimmy said. ‘If I’m careful I won’t have to do any laundry.’

  They smiled at each other and then, as they remembered what was happening, their smiles quickly faded.

  ‘Is there anything else you want to say to me?’ Jimmy said after a moment.

  Catherine looked at him for a long time and thought of about one thousand things she wanted to say to him but didn’t think she could, because she wasn’t exactly sure why she wanted to say them, and they were all things that had to be said for exactly the right reasons.

  ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘OK then,’ he said. ‘I think I’ll go.’

  ‘There probably won’t be a train for ages this time of night,’ Catherine said. ‘Why don’t you wait here for a bit longer?’

  ‘Anything in particular you want to say to me in that half-hour?’ Jimmy asked her.

  Slowly Catherine shook her head.

  ‘Then I have to go now,’ he said.

  ‘Right then,’ Catherine said.

  ‘After I’ve done this,’ Jimmy told her.

  And then, quite without warning, he took her in his arms and kissed her. Not on the cheeks or quickly on the lips like he sometimes did. He kissed her properly, deeply, thoroughly and passionately, his arms pulling her body into his as if for those few brief moments he might absorb her right inside of him. And just as Catherine found herself kissing him back he broke the embrace and walked out of the back door.

  ‘Jimmy, wait …’ But before she could say anything else he was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  CATHERINE FELT AS if she should be dreaming, as if she should be having one of those dreams where you absolutely know yo
u’ve got to be somewhere doing something that is completely vital but you can’t remember what it is, and the more you try to get there and the more you try to remember what it is, the more you realise you are never going to make it. She felt like she should be having one of those dreams only she was wide awake. All at once she was completely wide awake.

  At the quiet knock on the back door she flew out of her chair, scrambling for her keys to unlock it.

  ‘You came … Alison,’ Catherine said, her face falling. ‘Jimmy’s gone to Croatia. He’s gone.’

  ‘I know. That’s why I’ve come,’ Alison said. She smiled. ‘I was going to climb in through the window for old times’ sake, but I thought that might push you over the edge.’

  ‘You know that he’s gone to Croatia?’ Catherine asked.

  ‘Yes, he told me in the pub. How do you feel about that?’

  ‘How do I feel?’ Catherine repeated, a little dazed. ‘Oh, well, I’m pleased for him, of course. And he certainly needs the money for a deposit on a flat.’

  ‘Catherine,’ Alison said, inviting herself in because Catherine clearly wasn’t going to, ‘he’s not here now. No one is here except you and me. So tell me, how do you really feel?’

  ‘I want him to come back and stay here and not go to Croatia,’ Catherine said desperately, leaning against the worktop. ‘I don’t want him to go, but it’s not fair, is it? What right have I got to hold him back just because I don’t want him to leave? I haven’t got any right, have I?’

  ‘No,’ Alison said. ‘Unless you happen to love him, for example? Because if you do then he has the right to know, you know.’

  Catherine stared at her open-mouthed, as if she had, just that moment, been frozen in time.

  ‘How can I tell him one minute that I don’t love him and then, just as his big dream is about to come true, tell him that actually now he’s about to leave me I might love him after all? I can’t stand in the way of his dream again. He hated me for that before and he’ll hate me for it again.’

 

‹ Prev