The Goodbye Gift

by Amanda Brooke

  It was only when she dialled Phoebe’s number that the feeling warming her insides began to cool.

  ‘How’s the packing going?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, you know,’ Phoebe said with a sigh. ‘I’ve packed and repacked everything three times and now I can’t remember what I took out and what I kept in so I’ll end up doing it all again tomorrow. How about you?’

  ‘I think I’m almost there, and with Milly going off to her dad’s tomorrow, I’ll have more time to concentrate,’ she said. She chose not to tell Phoebe about the latest development. She wasn’t even sure she would say anything until after they were all back from holiday and she was certain that Milly was going to be true to her word this time. In reality, she knew there was no way she would be able to contain her excitement for that long, but it was an idea she would keep alive that bit longer. Besides, there were other things she needed to discuss with her friend. ‘Speaking of being alone, how are things with you? You’ve been a bit hard to pin down lately. Have you been throwing wild parties and forgetting to invite your two best friends?’

  ‘Not unless you count the teatime rush at Nan’s new digs. Some of those residents would stab you with a fork if you tried to pinch the last piece of Battenberg.’

  Helen gave a half-hearted laugh as she racked her brain to think of a way to broach the subject of Julia and Paul. ‘At least you don’t have those battles at home any more. But it must be weird living in a big, empty house,’ she said.

  ‘It won’t be forever. I’ve convinced Nan that we should sell the house sooner rather than later, so I’ll be looking for somewhere smaller and more practical in the New Year. It will be a completely fresh start for me, Helen.’

  ‘But while you are there,’ Helen persisted, ‘you could always have a dinner party to fill the house.’

  ‘A dinner party? Since when did you get all grown up? Does this have something to do with what’s-his-name, Chris?’

  ‘Maybe, but assuming you’d be inviting Julia and Paul too, that leaves us a bit unbalanced. We’d have to find a date for you to even up the numbers.’

  ‘Hmm, I think I’d prefer being the wallflower, thank you very much.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it be awkward though?’

  ‘No.’

  Helen could forgive Phoebe for sounding a little defensive and a lot confused. Her attempt to shoehorn Paul into the conversation was at best crude and Helen grimaced when she said, ‘I just meant about Paul being there. It can’t be easy switching off your emotions, so don’t pretend you have.’

  ‘Helen, why are we even discussing an imaginary dinner party when there are more pressing needs like going on holiday?’

  ‘Sorry,’ Helen said. She bit her lip, disappointed that her first line of questioning had reached a dead end but she wasn’t giving up. ‘To be honest, I’m not sure it would be such a good idea inviting Julia and Paul out anywhere at the moment.’

  ‘Why? What’s happened?’

  ‘She was telling me over lunch today how worried she is. I’m sure she’ll tell you herself while we’re away, but …’

  ‘But?’

  Helen was trying to sound as if she were letting Phoebe into a secret. It was, after all, what she desperately wanted to believe, but as she spoke, Helen’s ears strained for any clue to Phoebe’s reaction. ‘She thinks he’s having an affair.’

  There was total silence at the other end of the line, not even the sound of breathing. Phoebe was holding her breath and when she released it, her words tumbled out. ‘That’s ridiculous!’

  ‘That’s what I said.’ Pressing her phone hard against her ear, Helen wished she could see Phoebe’s face. She could hear the odd click and tap and imagined her friend playing nervously with whatever was to hand.

  ‘Is there something particular that’s made her suspect him?’

  Helen could feel her heart sinking, taking her good mood along with it. Phoebe wasn’t asking about Julia’s state of mind or the state of her marriage – she was far more eager to hear how Paul had slipped up. ‘She thinks he’s been going somewhere else rather than to the gym.’

  ‘But that doesn’t mean he’s having an affair, it just means he’s been skipping a session or two. How many people exaggerate their workouts?’

  Helen thought long and hard about how to pursue the matter. Did she want to go on holiday with someone she suspected was not only lying to her but, worse still, betraying their friend in the worst possible way? No, she might be wrong: surely Phoebe wasn’t capable of such a thing even if she had admitted to still having feelings for Paul? But even as the debate raged inside her head, Helen was already talking. ‘Where did he go, Phoebe?’

  ‘What?’ There was a loud clatter suggesting that whatever knick-knack Phoebe had been playing with had fallen over. ‘Helen, I hope you’re not suggesting—’

  ‘Please, Phoebe, tell me I’m wrong. I’m sorry but I really need to hear you say that you wouldn’t do that to Julia, that you wouldn’t jeopardize a lifelong friendship. Make that two lifelong friendships.’

  ‘Nothing’s going on, Helen!’ Phoebe said.

  ‘Really?’

  Phoebe’s tone hardened when she said, ‘Yes, really.’

  Helen waited for the rush of relief but it didn’t come.

  ‘What else do you want me to say?’ Phoebe demanded. ‘I swear on my life that I’m no more capable of betraying our friendship than you are. There, is that good enough?’

  It wasn’t good enough, but Helen couldn’t tell Phoebe that the oath was technically worthless because she herself was already guilty of the charge. She had betrayed Phoebe once and the past was catching up with them at a frightening rate. She felt herself bracing for impact.

  There was a brief moment when Phoebe had felt rather smug with the answers she had given her friend, but her clever words couldn’t ease her conscience. She had lied to Helen, but that wasn’t the worst of her sins.

  Paul had arrived unannounced on her doorstep the night before, demanding that she tell him everything. Judging by the way he kept his coat on, he had no intention of sitting down and chatting about old times. There was only one thing he needed to know.

  ‘What you said the other day, Phoebe …’

  She heard the doubt in his voice and reacted to it. ‘Was it true? Do you really think I’d make something like that up?’

  Paul had no follow-up question prepared and Phoebe was in no mood to offer any more information willingly. She turned her back on him and went into the kitchen to fill the kettle and make drinks that neither of them would want but it was better than looking at Paul’s tormented expression.

  Phoebe had never intended telling Paul about the baby, it was a secret she had thought she would take to the grave. It was only when Paul’s infertility had been brought into question that it had begun to play on Phoebe’s mind and she had racked her brain to find a way of telling him without telling him – to reassure him that the results would prove what she already knew, that he was capable of fathering a child. But the results had shown something else and the need to tell him had grown stronger and yet still she had resisted, right up to the moment she had stood at the side of the road and saw that look of horror on his face after they had kissed. She had forgotten all about wanting to help Paul, she had only wanted to hurt him deeply, and judging by the look on his face as he stood in the kitchen staring at the tiled floor, that was exactly what she had done.

  ‘If I’d known …’ he started, daring to look up briefly, before letting another sentence wither and die. ‘Did you tell anyone?’

  ‘I told Nan, and then the decision was taken out of my hands. There was no question about what had to be done. She had gone through the same thing with Mum, only Mum had got her way and kept the baby. Nan didn’t need to remind me how badly that had turned out.’

  ‘But was it what you wanted?’

  ‘Why do you need to know that?’ she asked while trying to make sense of not only her feelings but his too. ‘What do you wan
t from me, Paul? Do you want me to tell you I would have gone through with an abortion with or without you? That you’re completely absolved? Is that what you want hear?’

  He shook his head and, still looking at the damned floor, said, ‘I don’t know, Phoebe. I’ve spent the last few days torturing myself, wondering how different things could have been for all of us.’

  ‘I was eighteen years old and I didn’t know what I wanted,’ she said, which wasn’t exactly true. After years of neglect, Phoebe had wanted to be loved – it was as simple as that. She had wanted a little family just like Helen’s, except she wasn’t at all like Helen. Her friend might have complained about her imperfect life but she had had the kind of stability and security that Phoebe could only dream of. ‘I was in no fit state to bring up a child, Paul. I was the one that needed looking after.’

  ‘But it didn’t have to be your nan looking after you, Phoebe. I don’t know how I would have reacted if I’m honest, but I would have at least been able to give you another option.’

  Releasing a sigh, Phoebe turned her back on the man who claimed he would have saved her but wasn’t even brave enough to look her in the eye. She debated whether to take one cup or two from the cupboard. The discussion was going nowhere and she wanted him to leave. ‘You’d already made your choice, Paul. Why pretend it would have been any different?’

  ‘I don’t remember it being my choice, Phoebe. You sent your henchwoman to tell me to keep away, remember? What else was I supposed to do?’

  With a clatter of china, Phoebe turned to face him again. ‘My nan went to see you?’

  ‘No, I mean Helen,’ Paul said, sharing her look of confusion.

  ‘But I sent Helen to tell you— What exactly did she say, Paul?’

  He laughed. ‘You expect me to remember a conversation I had over ten years ago?’

  ‘Try.’

  He scratched his head. ‘She said how you had been going through a tough time and that you weren’t interested in anything long term and we should cut our losses. I got the impression that it was your nan you needed more than some bloke you barely knew – and it wasn’t as if we were in a proper relationship. It was a few nights out, Phoebe, and it made sense to stop before things got too serious. At least it did at the time …’

  ‘It’s all right, Paul, you don’t have to explain, but I think someone else might,’ she said. ‘That wasn’t what I asked Helen to tell you at all. She was supposed to explain how I wanted to carry on seeing you; only it would have to be in secret. I was giving you the choice.’

  ‘So why did Helen lie?’

  Phoebe racked her brain to find an answer. ‘I suppose she didn’t want me to make the same mistake she had,’ Phoebe said, her mind refusing to comprehend the full extent of Helen’s betrayal. She gave a sad laugh, then added, ‘She didn’t know I already had.’

  ‘But it wasn’t a mistake, Phoebe. It was a new life! We could have – I could have …’ As he spoke, Paul moved from left to right as if he couldn’t decide which way to turn. ‘So it was all down to Helen. She’s the one who ended our relationship before it had even begun, ended our child’s life before it had even begun.’

  The kettle had begun to boil but it was Phoebe’s emotions that were bubbling over. Her friends meant everything to her and she hadn’t wanted to lose them, but how was she ever to face Helen again now that she knew the truth? Should she confront her? Would she tell Helen about the pregnancy? Would she tell Julia? Exposing the secrets of the present and the past would leave their friendship in tatters.

  ‘But I was the one who had the abortion, Paul,’ she said. ‘I can’t blame anyone else for that.’

  When the boiling kettle switched itself off, it gave Phoebe a start and she had to lean back against the kitchen counter to keep herself from sinking to the floor. How different might her life have been if Helen hadn’t interfered? With Paul’s support instead of her nan’s suppression, she could have been anything she wanted to be. She could have been a woman with substance, not someone who people simply looked though.

  Except Paul wasn’t looking through her now. He held her gaze as he approached, each tentative step a considered one.

  ‘Do you hate me?’ she asked.

  Paul didn’t answer until he was close enough to trail a thumb across her cheek, wiping her tears. ‘Not even close, Phoebe.’

  As he cupped her face in his hands, Phoebe tried to summon up images of her two best friends. She pictured Julia and Helen, not as grown women with all the hang-ups they had acquired, but young girls sitting on Helen’s sofa watching Disney movies. It had been a long time since Phoebe had imagined herself a beautiful princess but that was how she felt under Paul’s gaze.

  ‘This is killing me,’ he said. ‘I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what might have been if only we’d been given the chance.’

  Phoebe squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to disappear again, while fighting a much stronger desire to follow Paul’s lead and summon up an alternate life where it wouldn’t be wrong to let him do what he did next. When she felt his lips on hers she let out a soft moan and pulled away. ‘It’s too late,’ she said.

  ‘I know.’

  With her eyes still closed, she sought out his mouth and kissed him briefly before adding, ‘We can’t go back, Paul. You love Julia, and I love her too. We can’t do this.’

  Resting his forehead on hers, Paul traced his hands down her body before resting them on her hips. ‘I know,’ he said without any attempt to step away. ‘But we had something I may never get to share with anyone else, no matter how much I love them. I don’t know how to deal with that, Phoebe. I don’t know how to stop this ache inside me.’

  ‘We can’t …’

  ‘Not even once?’ he asked. ‘I can’t walk away, not this time. Not yet.’

  When Paul pressed his body against hers, Phoebe offered no resistance and, as he kissed her, she let out a groan that was part pleasure and part frustration. She was done for.

  Her body had been on fire and as they made love Phoebe had imagined herself a phoenix rising from the flames, but it was a fire that had burnt out all too quickly. By the time she had spoken to Helen, it was only the guilt that endured and she didn’t know how she was going to face her friends.

  It was Sunday, 14 February and the three friends had distinctly different starts to their Valentine’s Day. Helen woke to find her bed a tangle of sheets and limbs. Chris was lying next to her fast asleep, having sneaked out of bed at some point during the early hours to place a card and a red rose on the bedside table next to her. She picked up the flower and trailed its baby-soft petals across his face, neck and chest. When he didn’t wake up she considered hitting him with it but then a smile crept across his face and she giggled like a schoolgirl.

  Julia woke with a start when she heard the front door closing and she opened her eyes to find a large pink envelope on the pillow in the place of her husband. Raising herself on her elbow she scanned the bedroom and noticed Paul’s running shoes were missing. She checked the clock and hated herself for noting the time, knowing she wouldn’t be able to rest until Paul returned, and maybe not even then despite telling herself that he didn’t deserve her suspicion.

  Phoebe wasn’t at all surprised to open her eyes and find her bed as empty as her life. She had spent the last few days struggling to come to terms with what she had done and imagined Paul was doing the same. He had made no attempt to get in touch since leaving her sitting on the kitchen floor, both stunned by and ashamed of what had just happened, and she hadn’t expected him to rush back for a repeat performance. They had agreed to forget it had ever happened, little knowing Paul had already aroused suspicion.

  She needed to warn him and had tried to phone a number of times the day before, but because it was the weekend, she couldn’t risk calling him on his mobile. She had phoned the house on the pretext of wanting to speak to Julia about holiday plans, and it had been Julia who answered each and every time.
/>   Standing in the kitchen in a nightshirt, Phoebe made another attempt to speak to Paul, and yet again he evaded her.

  ‘Hi, Phoebe,’ Julia said brightly. ‘That’s good timing – I was about to phone you. I’ve just been checking with Helen and I knew we shouldn’t have relied on her, especially now she’s all loved up.’

  Phoebe was tempted to make some comment about Helen having a history of being untrustworthy, but she was hardly in a position to criticize, and besides, Julia wasn’t talking about the kind of fundamental character flaws that could destroy friendships and marriages. ‘Don’t tell me,’ she said, ‘she still hasn’t managed to buy everything she was supposed to.’

  They had decided to share the long shopping list of all their holiday essentials so they could spread the load and, as always, Helen had left hers until the last minute.

  ‘How did you guess?’ Julia said. ‘Apparently she spent all of yesterday with Chris and he’s still there now!’

  ‘I’m going out to visit Nan this afternoon, so I suppose I could always do a detour to the shops.’

  ‘No, I can do it. Paul’s going to drop me off at the retail park for a couple of hours. I did try to persuade him to come with me but he says he’d rather stick pins in his eyes than listen to me twitter on about shampoos and conditioners. I don’t think he should get off scot-free though, so I was thinking he could nip to yours and give you one last driving lesson.’

  ‘Oh,’ Phoebe said. She needed to speak to Paul but a repeat visit to the house was an entirely different proposition and one she wasn’t sure she could deal with. ‘I’m not sure I’ve got time.’

  ‘Please, you’d be doing me a favour. Someone needs to keep tabs on him.’

  ‘Have you actually asked him? He might have better things to do.’

  ‘He’ll have more free time than he’ll know what to do with while I’m away,’ Julia said. ‘Honestly, Phoebe, he won’t mind.’

  Judging by the tone of Julia’s voice, her mind was set. ‘I suppose,’ Phoebe said. She was running her fingers through her hair, which felt lank and dull. ‘When were you thinking?’