Everything You Told Me

by Lucy Dawson

  ‘The more I think about it, though, the more implausible the story about her dad’s money becomes,’ I continue. ‘How come she’s never told Will about it before? I’d tell you if I found out Mum and Dad had that much cash shoved in the loft…’ I pause. ‘But then, I guess, we’ve been married for six years; they’ve hardly been together for the blink of an eye. Oh my God – I’m going around in circles, Matthew.’ I lean my head back exhaustedly.

  ‘So just stop thinking about it all, please!’

  I ignore him. ‘My head is absolutely buzzing with everything that’s happened. Surely she’d have told Will if she genuinely had that much money in cash? You couldn’t find a more trustworthy person than my brother, and they were engaged by that point.’ That reminds me of her scathing assessment of our marriage. ‘By the way, she also told me she thinks we shouldn’t be married any more.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ Matthew looks outraged, and immediately forgets he’s trying to pour oil on troubled waters. ‘She said what? It’s none of her business!’

  ‘She said I was a sad, middle-aged woman, who had pulled a selfish stunt to get you to notice me again.’

  ‘How dare she!’ He’s furious. ‘I might not say it enough, mostly because we seem to spend twenty-four hours a day firefighting these two,’ he nods in the mirror at our two sleeping children, ‘but of course I notice you. I notice you all the time, working your arse off for us, and she couldn’t be more wrong: being with the three of you is the most important thing in the world to me. When I’ve had a shit day at work – and believe me, there have been plenty of them recently – I come into the kitchen and you’re doing tea, Chloe is colouring at her little table, and Theo is in his bouncer, and I know I have achieved something.’ He pauses. ‘I would be lost without you. It’s as simple as that – and things are only going to get better. I don’t know how, yet, but we will move past all of this, and it will all be OK. Kelly can go to hell!’

  I look at my poor, exhausted husband in concern. I certainly wouldn’t have chosen for it to happen like this, or because of this, but neither am I going to pretend Matthew hasn’t been supportive, and isn’t trying his hardest, because I can see that he’s giving it his all.

  ‘Bizarrely, though, she’s got a point in that we’ve talked properly more in the last couple of days than we have in months.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘She isn’t right, is she? This wasn’t a much more elaborate version of what you did at university to get your boyfriend back?’

  ‘Of course not!’ I exclaim in disbelief.

  ‘Maybe not on a conscious level, but…’ He trails off.

  I’m horrified. ‘Not on an unconscious or conscious level. I was completely disorientated and terrified when I was on top of that cliff, alone and with no idea how I got there. You think I did that for attention?’

  ‘You’re right, I’m sorry,’ he says quickly. ‘I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have even asked. I really do want you to try not to even think about Kelly over the next couple of days, and give your brain a complete break. Regardless of your motivation, or otherwise, you can’t go around letting yourself into other people’s homes. It’s just not… normal.’

  ‘I was desperate to find proof of what happened to me. You don’t understand that at all? You wouldn’t have done the same in my shoes?’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t.’

  ‘Even to protect Chloe and Theo?’

  ‘What?’ Now he looks really scared. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Your mum used to treat Kelly – as a patient. I’m not supposed to tell anyone, she shouldn’t have told me – she could get struck off for it, apparently – but she warned me Kelly is potentially dangerous. That’s really someone you want around our children for the next God knows how many years?’

  ‘I can’t believe Mum would have said that to you,’ he says carefully. ‘I think, at the very least, you must have misunderstood what she meant.’

  ‘No! I didn’t,’ I say with energy. ‘Ask her – ask her yourself!’

  ‘OK, easy, Sal. I’ll talk to her, OK?’

  ‘You promise?’

  ‘I promise.’

  Once we’ve arrived, he’s helped me settle the kids, unpacked the car, and had a coffee, it’s time for him to go, and we stand opposite each other on my parents’ doorstep in the dark, breathing in the cold, clean air. I’m shivering slightly, and have my arms wrapped around myself.

  ‘Could you please send me a text when you get back, so I don’t worry?’

  ‘But it’ll be really late, I don’t want to wake you, or Theo.’

  ‘Please?’ I squint up at him worriedly.

  ‘OK. Now please go in and go to bed, you look shattered.’

  ‘You’re probably right, you know. I’m sure I will benefit from some… distance.’

  ‘That’s all this is,’ he assures me. ‘Some breathing space for you – a chance to clear your head a little bit. Try not to overthink things. Will you do something else for me? Don’t contact Kelly, OK?’

  ‘I have no intention of going anywhere near her.’

  ‘Good.’ He sounds relieved. ‘I’ll come and get you at the weekend. Sooner, if you need me. Just call.’

  I nod again, gratefully. ‘Thank you. But you will talk to your mum, about what I said, won’t you? She’s going to be upset that I’ve told you, but I can’t do anything about that. You had to know.’

  ‘You’re sure you’re going to be OK?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I love you, Sally.’

  ‘I love you too.’

  He leans in and kisses me softly. It isn’t the hurried brush of lips we usually barely manage. I can’t actually remember the last time we kissed like this, and my tummy flips over.

  ‘I’ll see you on Saturday.’

  ‘OK.’ I try to smile, suddenly feeling unaccountably teary.

  ‘Hey, don’t cry,’ he says. ‘Everything is going to be all right – I promise.’

  He hugs me, then kisses me again, this time more briefly, and turns to walk to the car. It’s like being seventeen again and saying goodnight to my boyfriend, standing on my parents’ step and wishing he didn’t have to go home.

  I watch him climb in, and the headlights flash on. He doesn’t pause to wave, just pulls away. I listen until I can’t hear the car any more, then, shivering again, I turn and head back into the house.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ‘Oh Theo, don’t, sweetie, please!’ I beg, as Theo bats away his spoon, knocking it out of my hand and sending yet another glob of his breakfast splatting onto the pram. I jump up hastily, grabbing the damp cloth again, and try to sponge it off.

  ‘I must say, it is a nuisance that we forgot the high chair,’ Mum says, watching me. ‘I’m sure I told Matthew to put it in.’

  ‘It’s OK.’ I scrub at the stain. ‘I should have told you all to just wait so I could check everything. I don’t know what I was thinking.’ I rub my eyes tiredly and pick up Theo’s spoon to rinse under the tap. ‘Apart from anything else, this is just too big to have inside the house. Whole travel systems like this were very popular when we had Chloe; they’re much lighter and more user-friendly now.’

  ‘Oh, it’s a super pram,’ Mum says, surprised. ‘It’s very clever the way it converts from lying down flat to sitting up now Theo’s that bit older. Don’t get rid of it, will you?’

  What, in case Will and Kelly want it? Let’s not even go there, Mum.

  ‘So!’ Mum says brightly, changing the subject. Clearly she doesn’t intend to either. ‘What would we all like to do today?’

  I glance out of the kitchen window at the fat raindrops sliding down the windowpane. ‘Well, I think the beach is out.’

  ‘Oh,’ says Chloe, slumping disappointedly over her bowl of Cheerios. ‘I wanted to do some digging.’

  ‘We’ll do that tomorrow instead, shall we?’ Mum suggests. ‘The weather’s going to be much brighter later in the week. I had an idea, though, for this morning. I wondered
, Chloe, would you like to come to the shop and have a go on the till?’

  Chloe nods, and looks excitedly at me, barely able to believe her luck at being asked to play shop – one of her favourite games – for real.

  ‘Then on our way back, I thought we could go to the bakery and choose a cupcake to bring back here for lunch, and then this afternoon, if it’s still raining, we can do some colouring and then make some scones for tea. What do you think?’ Mum smiles at her.

  ‘Yes please!’ Chloe jiggles in her seat, unable to contain her delight. I can’t help but smile too. At the very least, being here is absolutely brilliant for her.

  ‘Good!’ says Mum, pleased. ‘Well then, if you’ve finished your breakfast, go get your toothbrush from the little pink mug, bring it down, and we’ll do your teeth.’

  Chloe is already scampering off. ‘What do you say, Clo?’ I call after her as she disappears upstairs.

  ‘Thank you for my breakfast!’ she shouts back.

  ‘Don’t run while you’re carrying the brush,’ I add fretfully, then turn back to Theo. ‘I think you’re done with this too, aren’t you?’ I get to my feet again to wash his porridge bowl, but Mum beats me to it, jumping up and whisking it out from under my nose.

  ‘I’ll do that. Would you like another cup of tea?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘You’re sure? The kettle’s just boiled.’

  ‘Honestly, I’m fine.’

  ‘It’s not a problem, I’m making one anyway. You might as well.’

  ‘OK then,’ I sigh, giving in, and Mum nods approvingly.

  ‘Good girl.’

  ‘Actually,’ I consider, ‘if you’re off in a minute, I’d better go and get dressed. I’ll bring the kids over after Theo’s nap, shall I? That’ll give her a good half an hour in the shop.’

  ‘Oh, I meant I’ll take Chloe over so you can rest,’ Mum says, surprised. ‘And there’s really no reason why I can’t take Theo too, is there? Couldn’t he have his nap in the pram? Although,’ she says suddenly, ‘thinking about it, perhaps it would be better if I dropped Chloe off with Dad, and then I popped back here, then I can just go back again to get her for lunch. Yes, we’ll do that.’

  ‘But that’s a lot of faffing about for you, Mum. I can just bring them myself once…’ I trail off. ‘Hang on, you’re not suggesting all that so I won’t be on my own with the kids, are you?’

  Mum colours hotly. ‘Of course not!’

  ‘Or left on my own completely? I’m not going to do anything, Mum,’ I say slowly. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

  She busies herself with getting fresh teabags out.

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘Well, look then, why don’t I take Chloe, you stay here with Theo and put him down, and we’ll come back for lunch all together,’ she suggests. ‘There. Everyone’s happy. But I do want you to rest while we’re out. And I mean actually rest. Sleep if you can, or at the very least read a book or watch some TV – Dad’s lit the woodburner in the sitting room – but no going on your phone. Chloe’s got her little umbrella and wellies, so we’re all set – and the fresh air will do her good. We’ll definitely be back at lunchtime, though – and no, not because I’m worried about you being on your own,’ she adds firmly, which means that’s exactly what she’s worried about. ‘Now, if you’re going to go and get dressed, why don’t you have a nice bath and hair wash too, while I look after Theo and clean the breakfast things up?’

  ‘Are you sure? I’ll be quick.’

  ‘You can be as long as you like,’ she says. ‘Take your time and enjoy it. Here, you can take your tea with you.’

  ‘Thank you. And I promise you’ve got nothing to worry about this morning, Mum. We’ll be perfectly safe.’

  ‘Of course you will,’ she says, with her back to me as she wipes up a spilt splash of milk. ‘Now, go on – up you go.’

  It is pretty wonderful to have a proper shower that actually has some pressure, and – unlike our rubbish one at home that’s hardly better than standing in a mist of light rain – actually gets all of the shampoo out of my hair. The room is lovely and clean, the towel is fresh and fluffy, but best of all I don’t have a small person eyeing me beadily from his bouncer like a tiny time-trial judge, as I leap around hurriedly lathering and rinsing before my two minutes are up.

  I don’t feel quite so cheery as I go through the bag of things Mum has packed for me, however, discovering that she has somehow managed to select the frumpiest clothes I own. Some of them I’ve not even seen for a couple of years. I have no idea where she found them. There’s a Fat Face shirt and cardigan that Matthew very sweetly bought me for my birthday, and that I absolutely loathe – the shirt is checked gingham and the cardigan dove grey with a waterfall front. I actually thought I’d smuggled them to Oxfam. The jumper I discover next is too small – because I shrunk it while testing the dry-clean-only theory. There’s a White Company black jersey top with bell sleeves and a very low-cut front. It’s OK, but looks horribly 80s given all she’s selected trouser-wise are some blue jeans – unless I go for the M&S burgundy cords, pointedly included because she bought them for me, or some black leggings. I scratch my head as I look at them all. It’s like having individual pieces from lots of different jigsaws. Nothing goes together. Well, I guess I won’t be leaving the house for the next three days.

  I’ve not got my hairdryer either, which is far more of a disaster.

  ‘Just use mine,’ Mum says in surprise when I appear in the kitchen to ask politely which bag she put it in, to discover Chloe happily making a macaroni necklace, and Theo starting to whinge slightly, on the countdown to needing his nap.

  I have a go with her dryer, but it’s so tiny it does absolutely nothing, so I give up and decide to let my hair dry naturally for once, as Theo begins to kick off downstairs.

  He does at least go down surprisingly well, and by ten o’clock I’m back in the quiet kitchen, clutching the monitor; the only other sounds being the familiar tick tock of the cuckoo clock on the wall and the light pattering of rain on the windowpane. Mum and Chloe have already left.

  I sink down onto one of the kitchen chairs and reach for my phone, only hesitating at the last moment, as I remember my promise to Mum. That reminds me that the woodburner has been lit. I make a cup of tea and make my way through into the sitting room.

  The neat room is warm and cosy, the curtains tied back to reveal my parents’ pretty cottage garden. The beds are full of glistening clouds of forget-me-nots and damp lily of the valley. I sink down into Dad’s chair next to the fire. Mum put a couple of logs on before she left, and they’re fizzing and hissing as they start to catch.

  I sigh, lean my head back, and stare at the flames flickering behind the spotless glass door, thinking uncomfortably back to Caroline yesterday, telling me gently but firmly that going through Kelly’s things is, at best, irrational. How the hell has everything changed so quickly in just five days? I barely recognize my own life.

  Setting my tea down determinedly on the bookshelf to my left, I decide I don’t want to think about it any more. I’m so very tired.

  I snuggle down a little deeper. For once there is no tidying up to do, no washing to fold or put on. Theo is out for the count. Perhaps I will just have ten minutes. I close my eyes… and my phone immediately bleeps with a message. I try to ignore it, but needily, it bleeps a second time because I haven’t read it, and curiosity gets the better of me.

  It’s Will.

  Hi. Didn’t call last night as knew you were driving to Mum’s, but need to speak to you. Obv Kelly told me what you said about her drugging you. You didn’t think to mention this yesterday in car on way to yours? Very concerned. When can we talk?

  Oh God. I just can’t do this now. I put the phone on silent, just for a moment, pop it on the side, and desperately close my eyes. I’ll have two minutes, then call him.

  About another thirty seconds pass before the doorbell goes. It’s a shrill, old-fashioned ring, like a b
ell in the servants’ quarter, and I snap alert, jumping immediately to my feet. If they press it again, Theo will definitely wake, and he’s been down just long enough to pep himself up enough so that he won’t go back to sleep. I hurtle through the hallway and fling the door open, to discover the only school friend I still really keep in touch with, Mel, standing on the doorstep.

  ‘Ed said he saw your car outside last night!’ she exclaims, delighted. I smile weakly and hold the door wider as she hurries in out of the rain. ‘It’s so lovely to see you!’ She hugs me. ‘What a treat to have you back home again so quickly.’

  ‘I was going to call you this morning,’ I lie guiltily. ‘We only got here late. Do you want a cup of tea?’

  ‘I won’t, thanks. I’m not stopping, I’ve got to get to the chemist to pick something up for Nan. Where is everyone?’ She looks around, surprised.

  ‘Matthew’s gone home as he’s working, Mum’s taken Chloe to the shop, and Theo’s asleep.’

  ‘House to yourself – nice!’ She nods approvingly, then looks at her watch and kicks off her shoes. ‘Tell you what, I’ll just come in for five minutes.’

  My shoulders sag slightly as I follow her through into the sitting room. Bang goes my nap.

  ‘Your hair looks different,’ she remarks. ‘Have you done something?’

  ‘Washed it. I’m letting it dry on its own.’

  ‘I do that all the time. Easier, isn’t it?’ She flops down onto the sofa. ‘So, you’ve had a shit couple of days then?’

  ‘You saw the photos.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she commiserates. ‘Didn’t you get my message on Facebook?’

  I shake my head. ‘I shut down my account to stop people posting about them on my wall.’

  ‘Ah – that explains it,’ she says. ‘I told Ed it would be something like that. I texted you too, but I didn’t realize the bloody thing hadn’t sent till after Ed had got back with the Chinese and told me he’d seen your car, so I thought, I’ll just go around in the morning.’ She folds her legs up under her. ‘So what was all that guff they said about you having mental problems? I know we don’t speak all the time, but I said to Hayley yesterday, “I think she would have told me if there was something like that going on. She was all right at Easter!”’