The Dilemma

by B. A. Paris

  I need to phone Nelson. I sit down on the stone wall, my back to Marnie’s photos. I can hear Livia’s sobs from here – or maybe it’s just their echo in my brain. I’m glad Josh is with her, doing what Livia wouldn’t let me do, comforting her. He hasn’t said anything to me. He didn’t need to; the look of disbelief he gave as he asked me to leave was enough.

  I take out my mobile, sit with it in my hands, reliving the moment when I destroyed Livia’s world. It was harder than I ever imagined because she thought I was talking about something else. Something to do with Marnie, but also to do with Rob. I can’t think about that now, I have to call Nelson.

  His voice is too loud down the line. ‘Adam! How’re you doing?’

  ‘Nelson, can you come over? Just you, not Kirin or the children.’

  There’s a pause. ‘Is everything alright?’

  ‘No, not really. I’ll tell you when you get here. I’m in the garden. Could you come now?’

  ‘I’m on my way.’

  Five minutes, ten at the most. Just enough time to phone Dad.

  ‘Hi Adam, to what do I owe the pleasure of an early call?’

  I close my eyes, press the corners with my finger and thumb.

  ‘Dad.’ My voice cracks. ‘Is Mum there?’

  There’s the sound of movement, then his footsteps on the stairs.

  ‘Not anymore. I’m in the kitchen, your mum’s in bed.’

  ‘Are you sitting down?’

  ‘No. Should I be?’

  ‘Yes.’

  The scrape of a chair. ‘Right. Go ahead.’

  ‘It’s bad news, Dad. It’s about Marnie.’

  I hear him take a steadying breath. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘She was coming home for Livia’s party as a surprise. She had to take three planes. One of them crashed. She’s dead, Dad. Marnie’s gone.’

  There’s a half-strangled cry that stops as soon as it starts.

  ‘I’m sorry, Dad. I’m sorry.’ The words won’t stop coming out of my mouth. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘When?’ His voice is barely a whisper. ‘When did Marnie—’ He can barely speak.

  ‘Yesterday. I knew in the morning, not for sure, because I thought she’d missed the flight, she said she was going to. So I let the party go on because I wanted Livia to have a last few hours of happiness. Can you understand that, Dad? Can you understand why I didn’t tell anyone?’

  ‘Yes, I understand,’ he says, because he knows it’s what I need to hear. ‘I’m so sorry, Adam, I can’t imagine – how is Livia, how is Josh? Are they alright?’ He gives an angry growl. ‘Of course they’re not, how could they be. I don’t know what – I’m coming over. You just stay exactly where you are. I’ll be with you soon. Is there anyone with Livia, apart from Josh?’

  ‘No. Nelson is on his way over. I thought, once I’ve told him, he could tell everyone who needs to know. You don’t have to come over; you should stay with Mum. Once you’ve told her – will you tell Mum? And Izzy? And Ian? Will you tell them about Marnie?’

  ‘We’re not leaving you to cope with this on your own,’ he says fiercely. ‘It’s going to be alright. We’ll get you through this, your mum and I. We’ll get you through it.’

  I hang up quickly, before I crumble completely, wondering if I should have told Dad in person. But I don’t think I could have. I couldn’t bear to see his face, witness his distress. I don’t even know how I’m going to tell Nelson.

  I lean forward and concentrate only on breathing. I don’t have to wait long for Nelson to arrive. He doesn’t say anything, he just sits down beside me and I realise he already knows. Josh must have told him, when he let him in.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Adam,’ he says, his voice barely a whisper.

  I clear my throat. ‘Can you tell Jess? Ask her to come over, for Livia. Not Rob, just Jess.’

  ‘Yes, of course. What else can I do? Do you need – I don’t know – a cup of tea, or anything?’

  I stand up, suddenly needing space. I look around but there are memories of the party everywhere. I walk blindly to my shed, shoving the marquee out of the way with my shoulder. The block of black walnut that I started carving for Marnie is still where I left it, on the floor in front of the bench. I slide down beside it, needing its physical presence, and close my eyes.

  Time passes. Dad arrives. He sits down next to me, pulls my head to his shoulder.

  ‘It’s alright,’ he says gently. ‘It’s alright.’

  Livia

  There’s a knock at the bedroom door and as it begins to open, I get ready to yell at Adam to go away. Part of me is ashamed of the way I went for him but if he comes anywhere near me, I know I’ll attack him again. I can’t believe – I just can’t believe – that he let the party go ahead.

  It isn’t Adam, it’s Nelson. As soon as I see his large frame taking up most of the doorway, I start crying again. Josh, his arm around me, pulls me closer.

  Nelson comes further into the room. ‘Livia, Josh, I’m so sorry, so very sorry.’

  Josh mumbles something but I don’t say anything, because what is there to say?

  ‘I spoke to Jess,’ Nelson continues. ‘She’s on her way over. Cleo’s bringing her.’

  Relief washes over me.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say tearfully, because it’s Jess I need at this moment.

  I sense him appraising the situation, me and Josh sitting together on the bed, me crying, Josh doing his best to comfort me.

  ‘Josh, can I ask you to do something? Your dad has asked me to let people know about Marnie.’ I marvel at the way Nelson says her name without any hesitation or embarrassment. It’s exactly what we need. ‘Could you get me a list of names and phone numbers, please?’

  Josh gets to his feet. ‘Sure.’ His voice is hollow but there’s also a tinge of relief and I realise that Nelson’s purpose in asking him for help is to give Josh something to do.

  They stand, their arms clasped around each other, and I’m glad Josh is able to take comfort from Nelson as he couldn’t from me. I wish I’d been able to be strong for him but the horror of knowing I was laughing and dancing when Marnie was already lost to us was too much. I want to reach out to him, to hug him as Nelson is doing, but more waves of pain and anguish make it impossible.

  Josh leaves and I can feel Nelson’s sorrow as I sit twisting a sodden tissue in my fingers, trying to get my sobs under control.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say as he settles on the bed beside me. ‘I wish I could stop crying.’

  ‘The worst thing that could possibly happen has happened to you,’ he says, drawing me to him. ‘You’re allowed to cry as much as you like.’

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ I say brokenly. ‘I can’t believe that Marnie’s—’

  ‘I know,’ he says, smoothing my hair. ‘I know.’

  I want to tell him that Adam knew about the crash hours before the party started but something stops me. Whatever I might think of Adam, I don’t want Nelson to think less of him.

  Jess’s voice comes to me, calling from the hall below. I scramble off the bed but by the time I’ve opened the door, she’s made it up the stairs.

  ‘Livia,’ she says. And then we’re weeping in each other’s arms, because she understands my pain, the pain of a mother losing a child.

  Nelson squeezes past us, his hands heavy on our shoulders.

  ‘Mike has made tea,’ Jess says eventually, wiping her eyes. ‘Come on, let’s go downstairs.’

  ‘Adam isn’t there, is he?’

  ‘No, he’s in his shed. Mike came to get some tea and toast for him.’

  ‘It doesn’t surprise me that Adam is able to eat,’ I say bitterly, because I don’t mind telling Jess. ‘He knew, Jess, he knew about Marnie and he let the party go on. He carried on as normal, as if nothing was wrong and even worse, he let me carry on as normal.’ I shake my head and fresh tears fall from my eyes. ‘I’ll never get over it. I’ll never get over the fact that I danced the day my daughter died.’


  ‘I don’t think he knew for sure about Marnie,’ she says hesitantly. ‘From what Cleo said, he didn’t actually have confirmation until this morning.’

  ‘Cleo? Why has Adam been speaking to Cleo about it?’

  ‘Because she knew that Marnie was coming home.’

  ‘Cleo knew?’ My mind reels.

  ‘Come on,’ she says, easing me towards the stairs. ‘Let’s go and have a cup of tea. Cleo is with Josh now. You can talk to her later.’

  5 P.M. – 12 A.M.

  Adam

  A muffled sob escapes Livia’s lips, breaking through the silence as we sit with untouched mugs of tea in the kitchen.

  ‘Sorry,’ she mumbles.

  I long to comfort her but she doesn’t want me, she only wants Jess.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ Mum says, her eyes bright with unshed tears. ‘You’ve nothing to be sorry for.’

  The day has been punctuated with Nelson disappearing to make calls and coming back to tell us that we’re in the thoughts of whoever he’s just phoned, and to let them know if they can help in any way at all. It doesn’t seem to register with Livia. She doesn’t even nod. She’s retreated into herself, protecting herself. She didn’t even want to see her mum.

  We’d forgotten about Patricia until there was a ring on the doorbell in the middle of the afternoon. We left Nelson to answer it, presuming it was a neighbour.

  ‘Livia, it’s your mum,’ he said, coming back into the kitchen. But Livia shook her head and left it to Nelson to explain about Marnie.

  I move over to the door and look unseeingly through the glass to the garden. We’d be more comfortable in the sitting room but nobody has suggested going through. We’ve been here most of the day: Jess, Mum, Dad, Izzy, Ian and Cleo sitting around the table; me, Josh, Amy and Nelson leaning against the worktops, cradling mugs of hot drinks that no-one wants. Max was here earlier, and Kirin, but they’ve left now, taking their quiet grief with them.

  Murphy lumbers over to stand beside me. Max brought him back this morning and he’s barely left my side since. Mimi has slunk off somewhere, as if she knows her presence is a constant reminder of Marnie. I’m not sure when Amy arrived. Sometime this morning, Josh asked if he could tell her about Marnie and if she could come over. Of course we said yes. He needs her more than he needs us, only she can comfort him as he needs to be comforted. The way that we – Livia and I – need to be comforted. Except that for me and Livia, it’s impossible.

  Although nobody has mentioned it, they know why she won’t speak to me, they know the story of how I let the party go on. Nelson knows why, although I’m not sure the others do. I look at him, the conversation we had this morning a comfort against Livia’s hate.

  ‘I can’t imagine what it must have been like, to go through something like that on your own,’ he said quietly, coming to stand beside me after I’d gone outside for some space. ‘Why didn’t you tell Livia when you first suspected Marnie was on the flight?’ There was no criticism in his voice, just curiosity.

  ‘Because I knew that once she knew, it would change her life forever, just like it had already changed mine.’ I rubbed my face. ‘I can’t tell you what it’s like, to live with the knowledge that your child is almost certainly dead. I just wanted to stop what was happening. Let Livia have her party, let her have a last few hours of happiness.’

  ‘Jesus, Adam.’

  ‘If Marnie was dead—’ I paused. ‘If I’m honest, I think I must have known she was because otherwise she would have called. And I think I thought that Liv knowing then wasn’t going to change anything for Marnie. It’s not as if we could have rushed over to be with her. Livia called me a coward; she thinks I didn’t make the call to the airline until the party was over because I lacked the courage to hear the truth, and the courage to tell her. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I was lying to myself all along.’

  ‘You should have told me,’ Nelson said.

  ‘I almost did, when we were sitting on the wall, when you were avoiding Rob. But I knew I had to tell Livia first.’

  The re-hashing of my conversation with Nelson, the mention of Rob, stirs something in my brain. Where is Rob? Shouldn’t he be here, sitting in the kitchen with us? He’s conspicuous by his absence and I know Nelson thinks the same, because when Jess left the room earlier, he followed her out and had a quiet conversation with her, but not so quiet that I couldn’t hear Rob’s name. And ever since, Nelson has been texting on and off. Even Jess is at it, discreetly sending messages under the table.

  She looks up suddenly, relief evident on her face.

  ‘Rob sends his apologies, he’s on his way over.’

  I turn from the window in acknowledgment and see everybody nodding in silence, except Nelson, who mutters, ‘About time too.’ And Livia, who gets up from the table and walks silently out of the room.

  It’s the look of hatred on her face that brings the nightmare back, the nightmare of this morning when I was trying to tell her that Marnie was dead and Livia thought I was trying to tell her something different about Marnie. Something she already knew, something about Marnie being in a relationship with – I close my eyes, trying to remember her exact words – ‘I’m so sorry, Adam, it’s not Max, it’s Rob.’

  ‘Are you OK?’ Dad is on his feet, moving towards me. ‘Do you want to sit down a minute?’

  ‘No – no, I’m fine.’ Realising that I’m clutching the door frame, I lower my arm and pull the door open. ‘I just need some air.’

  ‘Shall I come with you?’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  Except that I’m not fine, I’ll never be fine again. And I’m going to be even less fine if what Livia said is true.

  Marnie and Rob. Marnie and Rob? I pace up and down the terrace, trying to work it out, Murphy watching me anxiously from the doorway. It can’t be true, it can’t be. I mean, how could it possibly be true? Livia said something about Rob going to see Marnie when he was meant to be in Singapore but she must be mistaken, she has to be. Marnie wouldn’t, she just wouldn’t, and neither would Rob, he has Jess. He wouldn’t do that to Jess, not when she’s ill, not even if she wasn’t ill. I need to speak to Livia, ask her why she thinks Marnie and Rob were having an affair. I try to recall everything she told me, but I can’t. I can only remember parts of it and I’m not even sure I remember those correctly. But if Livia is right – I try to think what it would mean. But I can’t, because my mind can’t cope with it.

  And then, I hear him – Rob – coming up the path. I go to the side gate to wait for him; he opens it and comes through, his head bowed, his sunglasses in place even though the sun is weak today. He takes a breath and as squares his shoulders, he raises his eyes and sees me standing there. A momentary pause then:

  ‘Mate.’ He walks towards me, his arms outstretched. ‘Adam.’

  But I need to know, so I reach out and take off his sunglasses. And, caught by surprise, he has no time to hide. I look deep into his red-rimmed eyes and as he stares back at me, I see the guilt, and smell the stench of it seeping from his pores. It flushes his skin red, works his mouth wordlessly as he searches frantically to deny what is staring me in the face.

  ‘Adam, I—’

  I don’t even think about hitting him, I just do it. My fist slams under his chin, lifting him off his feet so that he stumbles sideways, crashing into the wall.

  ‘Get out.’

  Livia

  My heart is pounding as I watch from the bedroom window. From where I’m standing, I see Adam walk towards the gate. I have to crane my neck, press my face against the window to be able to follow him to where he comes to a stop and although I’m sick to my stomach at the thought of seeing Rob, I need to know if Adam absorbed anything of what I told him about Marnie. I don’t think he did. I know now that the private hell he disappeared into while I was telling him was nothing to do with the thought of our daughter having an affair with Rob, but the dread of having to tell me she was dead. Dead. I still can’t believe it, even th
ough the fact of everyone sitting around the kitchen table tells me it’s true, because why would they be here otherwise?

  I hear the click of the side gate, then Rob coming onto the terrace. He sees Adam, takes a step towards him, his arm outstretched and I can’t breathe, because if they put their arms around each other it means that Adam didn’t grasp what I was telling him, which means he’ll never know about Marnie and Rob, not unless I choose to tell him. And I know that I won’t. A part of me rages that I’m going to have to sit down and eat with Rob, laugh at his jokes and accept his embraces so that nobody will guess there’s anything wrong. But I can’t risk alienating Jess and Nelson by spilling Rob’s dirty secret, because without them, Adam and I aren’t going to get through this. Not when we no longer have each other.

  At first, when I see Adam remove Rob’s sunglasses, I think it’s because he doesn’t want to damage them when they clasp each other, united in their grief for Marnie. But he just stands, staring at Rob, and I know the intensity of his gaze because I’ve felt it so many times myself; I know he’s looking deep into Rob’s soul, as he has looked into mine. Just as I’m wondering what he’s found there, he hits Rob square on the chin, knocking him against the wall, and as Rob scuttles back down the path, a sob escapes me and I’m crying, crying, crying, not for me, not for Marnie, but for Adam. Because although I’ll never forgive him for what he did, what I wanted, more than anything, was for him to be able to remember his version of Marnie, not mine.

  Adam

  I hear the scrape of the back door opening, and Nelson calling me as I head across the lawn to my shed, my eyes averted from the photos of Marnie still tacked to the fence. Because, after what’s happened, how could anyone take them down, even if they thought it best to?