by Lucy Dawson
‘Me too.’
‘You’re genuinely seeing Liv tomorrow then?’ Matthew asks as I hang up. ‘Are you going to tell her what’s happened?’
I try to ignore the ‘genuinely’ bit and reply, ‘Probably just the edited highlights: Will’s now unexpectedly at my mum’s, so we had to come back early.’ I pause. ‘I’m sorry this didn’t turn out to be the breathing space that you all hoped it would be.’
Matthew hesitates. ‘We wanted you to have a bit of distance from everything, that’s all. No one is trying to stage-manage you, Sal.’
‘Well, thank you for coming to get us again.’
‘It’s fine. I said I would.’
‘You must be shattered, though.’ We drive for a moment more, and I think about poor Mel, insisting her innocence. ‘Do you think Kelly leaked the story herself?’
‘And why would she do that?’ Matthew says slowly.
‘So she has an excuse to say to Will how vindictive I am; “It’s the final straw, I’m so frightened of your sister”, blah blah blah; then she gets to walk away with the cash.’
Matthew pauses. ‘I was actually going to ask if you told Mel on purpose, knowing there was a risk she might not be able to keep everything to herself?’
I shake my head. ‘Will asked me the exact same thing. I did tell her I wished there was something I could do to get rid of Kelly, but I didn’t in a million years expect her to do anything.’
‘Well, whoever it was – Kelly is out of your life, for good.’ He glances at me.
I feel suddenly weak with relief as I realize he’s right. ‘Everything appearing in the papers today must have been dreadful for her, but I can’t even tell you how terrified it makes me to think Will might have actually married her,’ I say quietly. ‘I just wish I could fast-forward him through this bit to the moment where he meets the person who is right for him. He’s still convinced Kelly is completely innocent.’ I look out of the window. ‘I suppose, of course, now I’ll never know for sure what she did to me on Friday night, but at least I’m OK. We all are.’
‘You still believe it was Kelly then?’
‘Well, she certainly seems to have pretty ruthlessly cut her ties, doesn’t she? But you know what? I really do just want to close the door on the whole affair now. I suspect your mum feels the same way too?’
‘Er, yes. I think she’d be happy to never have to see Kelly again.’
I fall silent for a moment. God knows what the story really was between Kelly and Caroline. I guess I’ll never know about that now, either.
‘We haven’t had a chance to talk about them properly yet. I imagine your mum is pretty angry with me for telling you about her being Kelly’s therapist?’
‘She wasn’t thrilled, no, but she understood why you wanted me to know. As do I.’
‘I don’t really get why she didn’t tell you anyway,’ I reflect.
‘She did, on the Friday night you went missing. She explained to me that in the heat of the moment on seeing Kelly, she’d reacted impulsively and just blurted out their connection to you. We discussed it all, though, and I was happy that there wasn’t anything else we needed to do about it, in terms of any risk Kelly might have posed – and especially now they’ve split up. The really important thing is that you haven’t told anyone else what Mum divulged. As she said to you, she could face really serious repercussions, Sal. Breaching patient confidentiality is no joke, even when it’s done with the best of intentions.’
‘I’ve not told anyone else, I swear, and Will hasn’t brought it up with me, so Kelly can’t have mentioned her relationship with Caroline either.’
He looks relieved. ‘Good. Well, let’s just keep it that way, and hopefully now Kelly’s no longer on the scene, everything will just settle back down.’
‘Are you OK with walking away from all of that money, though?’ I ask. ‘If it was my mum who’d lost such a huge amount, I think I’d be very angry.’
‘She didn’t lose it, we did. She just offered to cover it, and I’m very grateful to her,’ he says simply.
How on earth can it be so straightforward and uncomplicated to him? It must be a bloke thing.
‘The money isn’t my priority anyway, to be honest,’ he continues firmly. ‘You are.’
I fall silent for a moment. ‘We’re all right, aren’t we?’
He looks at me quickly. ‘What, you and me? Of course.’ He reaches out, picks up my hand and kisses it briefly.
‘It’s been nice; things starting to feel… better… between us, I mean,’ I say hesitantly. ‘But you do definitely think it was Kelly now, don’t you?’ I add quickly. ‘You don’t still think I went to Cornwall to kill myself, or that this was a crazy plot on my part to get your attention? You believe me?’
‘Yes, I do.’ He looks straight ahead at the road in front of us. ‘You know what, Sal? If this week has taught me one thing, it’s anything’s possible. Anything at all.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
As we pull up at the house, the curtains are drawn and the lights are on. It’s rather odd to see my own home as an outsider would.
‘Before you say anything,’ Matthew whispers, ‘I know the kids are going to wake up unless it’s dark inside, so Mum and I have already prearranged everything. Hang on.’ He pulls out his phone and quickly sends a text. Sure enough, seconds later, the sitting-room light goes off, followed by the hall one – then the front door opens to reveal Caroline. She waves, then puts her finger to her lips and tiptoes off, back into the gloom.
‘I’m impressed,’ I admit. ‘That’s incredibly organized.’
‘You just stay in the car with them while I dash in and do the blackout on Theo’s window, plug the monitor in, and put his wind machine on.’
‘Could you do his thermometer too, please? It’s just he’s used to it as a nightlight.’
‘I know,’ Matthew says patiently, placing his hand on the door.
‘And leave the car engine running, won’t you?’ I say instantly.
‘Of course. Oh, hang on.’ He reaches up and switches the car lights off.
‘Good call,’ I breathe. ‘So, when you come back, you take her, and I’ll do him. Shit!’ We both freeze as Theo begins to stir, sensing the movement has stopped. ‘Go! Go! He’s waking up! We haven’t got much time!’
Hastily, Matthew climbs out, rushes around and barely audibly unclicks the boot, grabs the overnight bag, then runs up to the house and dives in through the front door, as if he’s on some sort of special ops mission. I glance anxiously in the mirror at Theo – who is moving his head from side to side, and rubbing his nose, although his eyes are still closed – and send a silent prayer to the patron saint of sleeping babies. It’s so ridiculous that we have to go through all of this, just to get in the house. I glance at Chloe, who is thankfully out for the count, her head lolling forward. Not even a megaphone would rouse her right now. One day Theo will be the same. One day…
Caroline must have helped Matthew, because he reappears remarkably quickly, giving me the thumbs-up before going around to Chloe’s side. I climb out, and simultaneously we open both back doors, and in a practised manoeuvre, start to unclip belts as our children stir at the cold air hitting their skin. I begin gathering Theo up, glancing over at Matthew, who already has a completely floppy Chloe in his arms. He grins at me, and I smile back, before – in one swift movement – lifting Theo and beginning to walk smartly back to the house. Theo huddles closely into my body and I’m suddenly struck by the realization that Matthew and I won’t be doing this for ever, carrying our babies back to the safety of their cots and beds, and I hug Theo a little tighter.
We’re actually making a pretty good team – everyone appears to be staying asleep for once. I step into the welcoming warmth of the house. God bless Caroline, she’s had the heating on. She’s standing silently in the dark, waiting in the sitting-room doorway as I mouth ‘Hello!’ and pass with her sleeping grandson.
I pad up the stairs softly, Matthew a
couple of steps behind me, then we peel off into the respective kids’ bedrooms. Just as I realize I’ve made a fatal error in forgetting to tell Matthew to lay Theo’s Grobag out – unzipped so I can pop him straight in it – I spy it on the change mat bathed in the orange glow of the nightlight, neatly waiting for me. Wow. This is seamless. If I had a spare hand, I’d pinch myself.
I’m feeling just as stunned, less than three minutes later, to be silently creeping out of Theo’s room, gently drawing the door to behind me. He actually went down. This is a miracle. I tiptoe over to Chloe’s room and peer in. She’s already in bed, snoring gently – no sign of Matthew. I hastily beat a retreat while the going is good, only stopping off in our bedroom to pick up the monitor. I have another quick listen, but all I can hear is the sound of Theo’s wind machine gently whirring. I make my way back downstairs in a state of disbelief.
The sitting-room door is closed, but the light is on again. I push it open and blink slightly as my eyes adjust, to find Caroline now sitting on the far sofa, cup of tea in hand, doing the crossword in her folded-over paper. Mum left everything here tidy, but Caroline has taken it to the next level. The whole room smells wonderful: a combination of the new Jo Malone Pomegranate Noir candle burning on the table, and beautiful fresh flowers on the hearth of the otherwise disgustingly monstrous white-tiled fireplace I’ve almost become used to living with. Far more alluring, though, are two trays carefully balanced on the coffee table, each carrying a glass of red wine and a plate of crackers, olives, cheese and pâté, alongside a neatly folded napkin.
‘I thought you’d both be hungry after such a long journey.’ Caroline puts down her paper. ‘Although Matthew says you’ve made excellent time. He’s just getting the bags in from the car – via the garage, though, so the children aren’t disturbed. I can’t believe they’ve both stayed asleep. Well done you!’ She gets up. ‘Sit down and I’ll pass your tray over.’
‘Thank you so much for this,’ I say, amazed, as I obediently flop down. ‘I am starving.’
‘Isn’t it strange the way long journeys do that to you?’ agrees Caroline, taking a seat again, having handed my supper to me. ‘Don’t drink the wine if you don’t fancy it. I can make you a cup of tea instead, if you’d rather?’ She half rises again.
‘No, no – this is lovely.’ I take a mouthful to prove my point, and it really is delicious. I can feel the alcohol creeping through my veins, and start to relax. I smile gratefully at her. ‘Really, thank you so much.’
‘You’re very welcome. And welcome home, too.’
‘Thank you,’ I say, a little more soberly. ‘It is actually nice to be back. Things took – as I’m sure Matthew has told you – a rather uncomfortable turn at my parents’. My brother arrived this morning and he needs some space. Away from me.’
‘Oh dear!’ Caroline says, making a sympathetic face, and yet her tone is totally bland, just as she might have sounded if I’d said I had a slight headache coming on, or something equally as insignificant. Thrown by this uncharacteristic indifference, I pause momentarily. Matthew has told her what’s happened, surely?
‘You know that he’s split up with Kelly?’ I say slowly. ‘Or rather, that Kelly’s left him.’
‘Yes, I do. Now, tomorrow, I thought that while Theo naps, I could take Chloe out so you could have a rest, although I think you also have plans to see a friend, possibly? I’m more than happy to stay this weekend too, but I think I’d quite like to go back to mine on Sunday night, if that’s all right – I’m chairing a big meeting at Abbey Oaks first thing on Monday – although I will of course drive over after that so I can look after both of the children while Matthew takes you for your scan in the afternoon.’
‘Thank you, that’s very kind.’ I look at her carefully. ‘Caroline – is there something wrong?’
She holds my gaze, regarding me steadily for a moment. ‘Should there be? Now, I had a text message from your mother earlier. We’ve been thinking about the possibility of a nanny or an au pair, on a short-term basis. What do you think? We could—’
‘Caroline, are you sure nothing’s wrong?’
‘Well, I was very sorry to hear that Kelly and Will have separated – it’s always extremely painful when significant relationships end. I can appreciate that, as an outcome, it’s not an unhappy one for you, however, and I understand completely the reasons for your relief. That said, I think the way in which this conclusion has been reached is, at best, utterly irresponsible and, at worst, devastatingly cruel.’
My mouth falls open. There is a pregnant silence as Caroline continues to look at me unfalteringly.
‘You’re angry with me?’ I manage, eventually. ‘You think the stuff about her mother in the paper is my doing?’ Caroline and I have never exchanged words like this, ever.
‘When a parent commits suicide – especially, research shows, a mother – they leave a very complicated legacy of pain that the child can spend years trying to work through. It’s the job of a dedicated professional to ensure that trauma doesn’t become long-lasting, or something that consumes the child completely. One can only imagine what it must then feel like to have that scar freshly sliced through, in the name of public consumption.’
I wince at her graphic choice of words. ‘While I’ve made no secret of my feelings towards Kelly, I would never, ever do something like this.’
‘You, in particular, understand better than most what Kelly is going through today, surely?’
Wow. I tense up completely. Does she mean because of what she thinks I was going to do in Cornwall last week? We’re not really going there now, are we?
‘I actually agree with everything you’ve said.’ I keep my tone conciliatory. ‘I think it must have been horrendous for Kelly today, and in spite of everything, I feel very sorry for her.’
‘I’m not advocating that if you see a child in the playground, who beats all the other kids up because they’re having a horrible time of it at home, you let them carry on hurting everyone around them. Of course you don’t,’ Caroline says. ‘You remove the bully to protect everyone else – but it’s never necessary to annihilate them in the process.’
‘I agree!’ I repeat. ‘It wasn’t me who did this. I understand why you would think that I might, and why that would make you so angry, because of your professional relationship with Kelly, and how hard you must have worked with her to overcome the damage her mother’s suicide caused. But I swear, I did nothing except unwisely tell a close friend of mine at home about Kelly’s past – in the context of everything else that’s happened, I hasten to add – and she told her husband. One of them has now let me down very badly.’
Caroline pauses, eyeing me carefully.
‘It’s the truth, Caroline. But am I glad she’s out of our lives? Yes, I am. I can’t lie about that.’
‘Yes, well, as I said, I appreciate why you feel that way. I think we’re all rather relieved, for one reason or another.’
I look down at the floor. ‘Yes, about my revealing your professional relationship with Kelly to Matthew… You must be upset with me about that too, and I do owe you an apology on that score.’
‘No, Sally. I’m not upset. I’m disappointed, perhaps, that you didn’t trust my judgement when I told you I didn’t think we needed to do anything further about Kelly – and instead you sought a second opinion, as it were, from Matthew, but I know he’s not going to say anything to anyone, as he understands the full implications for me.’
‘I do too,’ I say, ‘and it’s not information I will disclose to anyone else, I give you my word.’
Mercifully, Matthew walks in at this point, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his tray of food. ‘Oh thanks, Mum, that looks great.’ He picks it up, comes and sits down next to me, and lowers it onto his lap. ‘I’m starving. You all right?’
‘Yes. I’m fine,’ Caroline says, and then meets my gaze once again as she adds, ‘I was just saying to Sal, it’s very nice to have her back.’
I’
m forgiven? I start to relax again.
‘Yes, it is.’ Matthew puts his hand briefly on my leg before removing it to pick up his wine glass. ‘I missed you all loads. I’ll try and hold onto that thought tomorrow morning when Theo gets up at crack of dawn.’
‘I hope you took advantage and had a lie-in?’ I ask. ‘I would have.’
Matthew looks sheepish. ‘Well, I was still working both days, but I might have slept in a bit later than usual, yes. It really is good to have you all back, though. The house was too quiet without you. I didn’t like it.’ He takes another sip of wine.
‘Well, no one’s going anywhere now,’ I reassure him quickly.
‘That’s good to know. By the way, tomorrow, when you go to Liv’s, Mum will drive you.’
There’s an awkward pause.
‘Um, why?’ I ask, and laugh uncertainly.
‘We all just think it would be a good idea to help you out a bit more, while you get back on your feet properly.’ Matthew takes another mouthful of wine. ‘It’s no big deal. Mum doesn’t mind, and she won’t come in with you, obviously. Just drop you off and go and have a coffee somewhere.’
‘But,’ I begin, ‘I’m completely safe to drive. Is this your way of telling me you think I’m going to black out at the wheel because of the enormous brain tumour I might have after all?’
‘Sally! Of course not!’ he exclaims. ‘Although, that’s true, from an insurance point of view, until you get the results back, I wonder if you’re even covered to drive at the moment? I ought to check it out… Really, though, I’m just asking you to be kind to yourself, that’s all.’
‘You want to pay me close attention,’ I repeat Will’s phrase slowly, looking between the two of them. ‘As opposed to monitoring me, while I’m with the children, of course? Matthew, you said in the car that you believed me, that—’
‘Sally, we really do just want to help you.’ Caroline leans forward in her seat. ‘That’s all this is. No one is monitoring you. If any of us had felt you were a danger to yourself or the children at any point since Friday, we would have acted, all of us together: Matthew, your parents and me. We have all discussed the options at length, as and when it’s been appropriate, and we haven’t felt it’s been necessary for us to step in and make any decisions that you might not be capable of. ‘