The Big Five O

by Jane Wenham-Jones

  ‘He was the headmaster of a large school. He had a wife who had health problems.’

  She scanned Jamie’s face for signs of disapproval but he only nodded.

  ‘She was in a wheelchair. He never made me any promises. He said he could never leave her because she needed him and so did his kids, but that they didn’t have any sort of relationship any more and that he needed me.’

  ‘He was much older than me,’ she added. ‘I adored him.’

  ‘And he didn’t want to be involved with his child?’ Now Jamie gave a small frown.

  ‘At first he was angry. He used to be obsessed about contraception – though he wanted it to be mine. But I had to stop taking the pill because I’d been on it so long and I was getting headaches. And then I found out I had had endometriosis – the consultant said I’d be very unlikely to conceive naturally. I was still careful at first but we had unprotected sex a few times and nothing happened.

  ‘Oh my god–’ she clapped a hand over her mouth again. ‘I’m sorry this is way too much information.’ She shook her head. She didn’t usually drink this much. She was becoming inappropriate …

  ‘I feel honoured that you are confiding in me.’ Jamie’s voice was gentle.

  Roz took a deep breath and went on. ‘I honestly didn’t ever believe I’d get pregnant. I’d told him I couldn’t … And then one day – after more than two years, I did!’

  ‘And he reacted badly?’

  ‘He was shocked. Fearful about what I’d do. Worried about his job, his reputation. His wife wasn’t doing very well. He wanted me to have a termination – he and my mother both – but I couldn’t.’ Roz was talking fast now. ‘It felt like a gift from God. Not that I am particularly religious,’ she added hastily. ‘It just felt – well it was a miracle. I couldn’t have …’

  ‘Eat something.’ Jamie took a mouthful of spaghetti and chewed slowly. Roz lifted her fork and put it down again.

  ‘So I moved. I gave up my job in London and came back down here where I’d gone to school and my parents still were. They’ve moved to Surrey since – which is a relief.’

  Roz took another sip of wine. ‘I’d thought he was a good, decent man who took his responsibilities seriously – I told myself I loved that in him, that he had a moral code. That he wouldn’t dump a sick wife. Leave his teenage children …’

  Jamie was impassive.

  ‘But I found out later that his wife wasn’t ill in the way he’d told me, that his kids were older than he’d said and had already left home. He just didn’t love me enough to rock the boat and why should he? I shouldn’t have been having an affair with a married man. In the cold, pregnant light of day, I felt a bit grubby.’

  ‘So he never supported you?’

  ‘I told him where I was and for the first two years he sent me money and the odd letter, then it tailed off.’

  Jamie shook his head as if in disbelief. Roz shrugged. ‘I never expected it. The money was useful but I saw bringing up Amy as my job.’

  ‘And he’s not wanted to find out about his daughter since?’ This time, the disapproval was clear.

  ‘I did a bit of investigating much later – when Amy first asked his name – and I found out he’d retired because he had cancer. I think he may have died.’ Roz bit her lip. ‘I suppose I should find out now. Amy has been searching online. She says she’s going to find her half-siblings. I don’t know if she will, really. I haven’t told her their names – so it’s not going to be easy. She’s angry with me at the moment but she used to say she didn’t care about having a father.’ Roz felt suddenly exhausted and sad. ‘We used to be so close.’

  Jamie’s voice was reassuring. ‘You will be again. Maddie says Luci is a nightmare at times. But if I ever criticise her mother, Luci gives me what for. Quite rightly,’ he added quickly. ‘And my sister,’ he went on. ‘She didn’t speak to my mother at all, for years. But she’s round there every week now.’

  ‘Where do they live?’ asked Roz, faintly, feeling she should show an interest although now she was feeling sick inside.

  ‘Dorset,’ he said briefly. ‘And has there been nobody since?’

  Roz gave a brittle laugh. ‘As I said, I haven’t really had the time or appetite for a relationship …’

  Jamie leant out and took her hand across the table. It felt warm and comforting. She let her fingers rest against his.

  Jamie gave her a smile – his eyes dark and shining in the candlelight. ‘I have had a really good time with you tonight, Roz,’ he said quietly. ‘Can we do it again?’

  Roz nodded.

  Chapter 22

  Fay turned her car engine back on so she could switch on the windscreen wipers. What the hell was she doing? Skulking in her car, staring through the rain at some featureless modern offices on a soulless estate outside Ashford, waiting to tail her friend’s husband. Ludicrous!

  Fay was aware that a lot of her resistance to this mad plan sprang from her not wanting it to be true. She liked Roger – she’d always thought of him as a straightforward, thoroughly decent bloke. He was nice. Nice to Charlotte – nice to her friends. Fay was going to be rocked to her core if he turned out to be as bad as all the rest. But better she be the one to find out than some so-called-professional slimeball who would smash Charlotte’s life apart and then make her pay through the nose for it.

  People had thought Dave was nice too. Right up to the end. But he wasn’t. He had stopped keeping up even any pretence of being kind and caring long before she found out. Had lost interest in trying. Given up on her, on them. Stopped speaking, or listening or even looking her fully in the face. She found that harder to forgive than anything.

  ‘Maybe he was very upset,’ his sister had said, when she’d come round to poke about in what had happened. Fay had fixed her with a look of such venom, that the older woman had shrunk back. Then Fay had got up and held her front door open until her sister-in-law scuttled down the path, snivelling. She never spoke to her again.

  Roger wasn’t like that. Roger was a good man who loved his wife. But maybe Roger was weak. Charlotte had said there’d been a woman before he’d been bewitched by. Fay knew all about that.

  Although she prayed Charlotte was imagining things, she understood the torture Charlotte was going through. It was the not knowing that ate away at you. Once you did know, you could deal with it.

  The rain was getting heavier. Fay had squashed Len’s car into the only free ‘visitor’ space and she hoped if Roger was going on one of his rendezvous trips he would hurry up about it, before someone realised she shouldn’t be there and moved her on.

  Len had looked at her suspiciously when she’d asked to swap vehicles, as if he didn’t believe her tale of needing to ferry three friends about in something bigger than her two-seater. ‘What are you up to?’ he’d asked, as she had dropped the keys to her conspicuous red sports car onto the edge of his desk. She’d grinned. ‘Nothing you need to worry about, Leonard. Just keep this show on the road while I’m gone.’

  Charlotte had said Roger typically went AWOL from around three, so when he came out, would depend she guessed, on how far away his assignation was. Fay had sat through the two o’clock news and The Archers – there were a couple of new characters she didn’t recognise but Shula hadn’t got any less tedious since she’d last listened – and she was beginning to get bored.

  She had a stack of paperwork waiting for her in the office and two potential new clients to visit. She hoped Charlotte had kicked Sherie’s sister Alison’s solicitor into touch because that week was getting increasingly busy and she couldn’t hold the date for ever.

  Fay was about to text Charlotte to see if there was an update, when she spotted two figures coming through the main doors of the modern office block. She cleared the windscreen again, and peered through the rain. Yes, one of them was definitely Roger. As she watched, he raised a hand in farewell and ducked his head before walking rapidly away from the other chap and down the nearest row of cars.


  Even though he was unlikely to look across this far, and see her, Fay kept her own head down, squinting up through her fringe as Roger got into his dark Mercedes.

  Watching carefully to see which way he turned when he left the car park, Fay delayed before following. In films people were always too dim to notice the same car in their rear-view mirror for miles, but Fay knew she’d be on it if anyone was trailing her.

  She kept well back as Roger set off down one of the narrow country roads that surrounded the business park. Len’s black Ford was unremarkable but she wasn’t taking any chances. Unless he had a girlfriend tucked away somewhere very obscure, she knew which way Roger was likely to be going.

  As predicted, Roger’s car headed for the big roundabout that led onto the ring road. As one road widened into another and he joined the dual carriageway, Fay accelerated, put a car between them and then matched his speed.

  Minutes later, she felt a small rush of adrenalin as they reached the Eureka Leisure Centre and he indicated right to join the M20. Maidstone or further afield? The rain was hammering down now and spray from the lorries made visibility difficult. Fay fumbled for the lights on the unfamiliar dashboard. Overtaking a blue BMW and a white van, she settled behind Roger in the outside lane, leaving a distance between them, assuming he would not be able to get a good view of her in this weather.

  ‘Dick!’ she said out loud, as the BMW zipped past her and settled in the gap. She could still see Roger ahead of her. He was driving more quickly now – obviously on a mission with his eye on the clock. He kept going past the sign to Leeds Castle and the services – so no tacky little car park tryst then – and past the junction to the A20 and Maidstone East. If he was going to the town centre he would likely come off at the next one.

  They’d had to slow down now, through the road works. Fay kept her eyes fixed on his number plate as they passed a blur of orange jackets and sure enough, saw him begin to move across shortly before junction seven. As soon as she was able to – thwarted by lorries and struggling with the spray – Fay followed suit.

  She was determined to get to the bottom of this for Charlotte. As they left the motorway and continued onto the A249 for Maidstone, she’d been forced to drop back and there were now three cars between them, but she could still see him.

  The traffic was heavy now and progress was slow – Fay managed to get past one of the cars and then it was easy to keep Roger in her sights. They drove on past the Maidstone Hilton, up the hill and left towards the town, the traffic picking up speed as they went past a pub on the corner and a large modern church towards traffic lights and a sign for the town centre. The lights were green but the driver in front was dithering. ‘Go on!’

  Fay swore out loud as the lights changed and she was forced to stop as Roger sped on.

  Bollocks! The lights were red for an age and Roger was out of sight by the time Fay got moving again. She’d have to take a punt and keep heading for the centre hoping she would remember the way to that crummy hotel. Keeping her fingers crossed that was where Roger was going.

  Fay drove on, past the council offices, following the main route and looking out for familiar buildings, hissing with annoying as she came to an area that was pedestrianised. She was pretty sure the hotel was down there somewhere. There was no sign of Roger and nowhere to stop. She turned right, pulling in on a double yellow line and getting up maps on her phone.

  ‘Yes, I’m going!’ She wound down her window and addressed a damp-looking traffic warden impatiently. ‘But I’ll be gone a lot quicker if you can direct me. It’s like a bloody maze round here.’

  Minutes later, she was skirting round the shopping area and driving up a street behind it. She passed the goods entrance to Primark, and there was an archway with a sign for the Wealdstone Hotel. Customer parking only. Fay drove in and found a space, getting immediately drenched as she got quickly out of the car, scanning the other vehicles. Bingo! Roger’s car was in the corner.

  She ran across the courtyard as the rain beat down on her shoulders, cursing Roger and all philanderers everywhere.

  The reception area had been done up since Fay was last there, and was lighter and brighter. Rubbing the water from her face, Fay went into the bar, longing to see Roger locked in conversation with another suit, papers spread out in front of him. There was a couple in the corner, eating, and a couple of guys at the bar. No sign of anyone else.

  She peered into the empty restaurant beyond. A young man smiled at her. ‘Are you here for cream tea?’

  ‘Not this time.’ Drowned Rats convention perhaps?

  There was a small lounge off the bar that was empty. The old goat must have booked a room for the afternoon.

  Fay walked back into reception and approached a girl with shiny brown hair who was intent on her computer screen.

  She looked up as Fay stopped in front of the counter and smiled. Fay spoke briskly. ‘I’m here to see Roger Forbes.’

  The girl gave a small frown. ‘Is he a guest?’ she asked politely.

  ‘Yes,’ said Fay boldly. ‘He asked me to call him in his room when I arrived.’

  The girl looked back at her screen. ‘Sorry,’ she said, her tone cooler. ‘We don’t have anybody staying with that name.’

  Damn. Fay kept her face neutral. Of course he’d book under another one. Bastard. Unless she hammered on every bedroom door until she hit lucky, there was nothing for it but to wait until he reappeared.

  ‘How strange,’ she said curtly to the receptionist. ‘He must have changed his plans. I’ll wait for him in the bar.’

  Roger would come back to his car when he’d finished and however long it took, she’d be waiting for him. Fay took up a strategic position with a view of the foyer which presumably he would have to cross to get out again.

  ‘Is there any other back entrance to the car park?’ she asked the barman, ‘apart from that one that leads into reception?’ He looked at her curiously. ‘No,’ he said. Then he grinned. ‘Unless you want to climb down the fire escape.’

  Fay gave a tight smile back. She doubted Roger would go to those lengths, especially as he didn’t even know she was here.

  ‘Thank you. What’s the Wi-Fi code?’

  She ordered a coffee and sat down. She would not Google anything, she would answer some of her emails. There were two texts from Charlotte, wanting to know what was going on. Fay replied briefly, saying only that she was on the case. She didn’t want to inflame Charlotte further until she had found out what exactly was going on.

  The rambling hotel had clearly undergone a facelift since she was last here. Fay picked up a leaflet from the table about the Wealdstone’s facilities for meetings of all sizes – including liaisons of just two between the sheets presumably – and the weddings and celebrations they could now host in their two-hundred-capacity banquet room, idly reading a sample menu which made up in clichés what it lacked in imagination. Why did everything these days have to be fucking ‘drizzled’ with something?

  Fay made her first coffee last the best part of an hour and then asked for another. She’d answered all the mail she felt like dealing with, and had taken a call from the care home to learn her mother had rolled out of bed but come to no harm, and was demanding plums.

  Made a change from bloody oranges. ‘I’ll bring them Friday,’ Fay told Charlie, the kind care assistant who showed more patience than Fay could imagine. Fay could rarely remember her mother eating fruit when she was at home but now she was working her way through the entire greengrocer’s.

  Fay was getting restless. She wasn’t used to sitting around. She was ignoring Charlotte’s third message, not wanting to tell her that Roger was secreted somewhere in this hotel, clearly up to no good.

  Fay wildly thought of taking the lift upstairs and yelling his name down each corridor. She looked at her watch. It was well after four. If he hadn’t emerged by five, she just might.

  The barman had disappeared and a young girl cleared her empty cup and brought the new
one. There was only Fay and three blokes with laptops in here now. Her eyes flicked constantly to the foyer, afraid she would miss him, but only a woman with two kids and a huge suitcase had passed in front of her in the last half an hour.

  Fay phoned Len, still keeping her gaze on the entrance. As she listened to his updates on today’s jobs, two smartly-dressed women in heels crossed the foyer and went out through the double glass doors onto the street. They were followed moments later by a man in his fifties and another woman in a floaty summer dress. Three more women came into the bar. Had Roger been at a business meeting after all?

  ‘Gotta go, Len.’ Fay stood up and grabbed her bag. She wandered to the doorway and looked across to where the receptionist was talking on the phone. She could hear the women laughing. Charlotte had said in her last text that she had tried to phone Roger and he was switched off as usual. He mostly still got home by seven, she’d said, on a Wednesday, so he’d need to be out of here before six – earlier probably with all the end-of-day traffic …

  Fay could feel her heart beating faster as if something was about to happen. But one more man came out of the lift and strode across to the entrance and then nothing. The receptionist had finished her phone call and was looking at Fay as if wondering why she was still here. Fay ignored her.

  And then suddenly there he was. She heard the lift doors open and his voice before she saw him. Roger was in a shirt and tie, with his suit jacket over one shoulder. He was with a woman. Blonde, fifty-ish, in a skirt and pink top. Fay saw him smile and nod at something she’d said. ‘I hope so.’ He laughed.

  Fay had prepared a story. That she was quoting on a job nearby and had nipped in to use the loo before driving back. But the sight of Roger, relaxed and carefree, walking so close to the woman they were nearly touching, drove all pretences from her mind.