‘It was red, a bit… I don’t know, homoerotic.’ She gave a little laugh, embarrassed by her choice of words. ‘It was for a place called the Anvil, in London Bridge.’
‘And…?’ Angus looked at her levelly.
‘You said you were out with clients that night – it was Sophie’s parents’ evening, remember? I can’t believe you took them to… a gay club. Did you?’
This time there was a momentary hesitation before Angus replied, enough for Kitty to notice. ‘Jesus Christ, this feels like an inquisition. I did go out with clients, like I told you. But then… it was too late for the parents’ evening, so Thomas and I dropped in at the Anvil. Bit sleazy actually, but we went for a couple of drinks.’ He shrugged.
She stared at him, wondering how to continue her questioning in the manner she had prepped. She hadn’t expected him to be so appeasing. Bloody Thomas Paderfield. He might be Angus’s best mate, but in all the years she’d known him, Kitty hadn’t warmed to him. There was something fake about him, just like Ruraigh had said.
‘Thomas just happened to be in the neighbourhood, did he? And you didn’t think to tell me?’
Angus snorted. ‘Because it wasn’t important. What’s got into you?’
‘I don’t like the secrecy, Angus. It’s like you’ve got something to hide. When I found the card…’ She faltered, not entirely sure what it was that had caused her such unease, and unable to articulate right now how it had made her stomach flip.
‘Found the card!’ He swung his legs off the table and sat forward. ‘Found it? Have you any idea how that sounds? The fact that you went rifling through my pockets is a bit worrying – is that where we’re at? What next, combing through the bank statements, having me followed?’
‘No! Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous! And I didn’t go rifling through your pockets. I was fetching Sophie’s apron and knocked your coat and it fell onto the floor.’
He raised his eyebrows, clearly doubting her explanation, which incensed her.
‘If you say so, Kitty, but you seem pretty riled…’
‘I am not riled!’ she shouted. ‘I just can’t see why—’
‘Why what?’ Angus looked her full in the face, challenging her to come out with it.
Kitty took a deep breath. ‘Why you’d go to a gay club and then lie to me about it.’
Angus shook his head. ‘For God’s sake, Kitty! I didn’t lie about it! It was just a non-event! I’ve known Thomas since we were eighteen. He was my best man, for Christ’s sake. He’s my best friend. Give me a break.’
Kitty gulped down her angry tears and tried to calm down. She might not like Thomas, but, really, what was she achieving here? ‘I’m sorry, Angus, I—’
‘You should be. It’s pissed me off! I work my arse off all day and come home to a cold shoulder and a guessing game over supper.’ He stared at her.
Kitty felt the beginnings of a headache and rubbed her temples. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s up with me. Can we forget the whole thing?’
Angus stood and undid the top button of his shirt, loosening his tie. ‘Sure we can. I’m off to have a shower.’ He made his way to the door, then stopped and looked back over his shoulder, his hand resting on the frame. ‘It’s a bit rich, isn’t it, Kitty? You were the one that couldn’t keep your knickers on and I’m the one being made to feel guilty.’
As Angus trod the stairs, more tears gathered at the back of Kitty’s throat. This was by no means the first time he’d used her infidelity as a weapon against her; he sometimes brought it up when he badly needed to win an argument or as a way of deflecting her criticism of something he’d done. It always had the same effect on Kitty, pulling the rug from under her feet and leaving her feeling vulnerable and afraid.
She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, wishing she could turn the clock back, wishing she could go back and not mention the bloody business card. In fact, if she had the ability to turn back time, she would go back to the day she met Theo on the pavement and she’d smile politely and immediately make her way home – without going to the pub, let alone going back to his flat.
No, no, no! Don’t think that! You wouldn’t have Sophie!
The very idea was unthinkable. She loved her daughter beyond measure; loved her exactly how she was and for exactly who she was, and that was all down to that one glorious, life-changing, memory-making afternoon.
*
It was now the weekend and the air had long since cleared. Angus and Kitty were sitting side by side in the back of a cab. ‘How late do you think this thing will go on?’
Kitty tutted and smiled at her husband. ‘Ruraigh and Tizz have finally got engaged! It’s supposed to be a celebration, not a chore!’
‘I know, but Sundays are so precious, and a barbecue, as you know, can last an hour or a whole day if you put your back into it. And it’s such a long way.’
‘It’s Chiswick, not the Highlands, and he’s my cousin and one of your best friends. So please try and be happy. After all, we’ve got no Sophie to worry about for once. How often does that happen – a whole night to ourselves! So we can drink and dance till dawn if the fancy takes us.’
‘I expect Sophie and Bonnie will be doing the same thing.’ He chuckled.
‘God, I hope not! Sleepovers might have got a bit more exciting since we were kids, but they are only eight! Mind you, it won’t be long, Sophie’s getting so grown-up.’
‘Tell me about it. I put the Mini Pops CD on in the car and she rolled her eyes and said, “Oh Dad, can we have the Spice Girls instead?” I had to look into the back seat just to check there hadn’t been some inexplicable time-shift and there wasn’t a teenager sitting behind me!’
Kitty threaded her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘I love you.’
Angus kissed the top of her head by way of reply.
The Victorian terrace in Chiswick was bursting with people. Music and laughter filled the air and it was a reminder to Kitty that not all of their peers were married with kids; some were still living the carefree life of the mature student or the new professional. Not that she would have swapped her life for anything, but a day like this away from the routine of childcare, school runs and cooking supper was a treat. Uni friends, work colleagues and Old Vaizians populated the rooms and spilled out into the garden, where a rather grubby-looking oil-drum barbecue was turning out the very best food. She wolfed down decent servings of mouthwatering chicken drumsticks in a sticky honey glaze and near-charred bangers, the perfect foundation for numerous cold beers and three white-wine spritzers.
Hamish rushed over with his new girlfriend Flo and lifted Kitty off her feet. ‘So, another wedding at Darraghfield!’ He smiled at her as she concentrated on not toppling over and, more importantly, keeping her plastic wine goblet upright.
‘And what about you two? You could do a double-wedding! That would be ace!’ Booze removed all filters from Kitty’s mouth.
Flo squawked. ‘Did he tell you to say that?’ She nudged her beau in the ribs. ‘He can’t understand why I am happy not to get married. I mean, good luck to Ruraigh and Tizz and all that, but I just don’t get it. I don’t feel the need to put on the frock and announce to the world that I love this man. I don’t even believe in God. It would feel hypocritical.’
‘I hear ya!’ Kitty raised her glass in her wobbly, drunken hand.
‘Did you hear, Kitty, that Theo is engaged?’
The words, casually offered, felt like rocks being smashed into her gut. They left her winded, but she kept her smile in place. ‘I didn’t hear that. Congratulations to Theo!’ She lifted her drink in the spirit of the occasion. ‘Good for him.’ Her heart twisted with a strange mix of feelings and she recalled his words, spoken so long ago, at school, when he’d comforted her over the death of Flynn. ‘I can’t imagine anyone loving me so much that they would miss me like you’re missing your pony right now.’
‘Her name is Anna, apparently, and he’s pretty sm
itten,’ Hamish added.
Anna… Take care of his heart, Anna – it’s a good one, a true one and one I could quite happily have claimed for my own. Again, Kitty recalled the feel of Theo’s kiss on her collarbone that day they’d made Sophie.
Hamish was already onto the next subject. Casting a theatrical glance at Flo, he asked her, ‘And did I hear correctly, that you love this man?’ He pointed his finger at his own chest and grinned at his girlfriend.
‘I do,’ Flo replied, with a striking softness to her tone that Kitty found quite moving. ‘I love you.’
Hamish leant over and kissed his girl.
‘For God’s sake, get a room!’ Ruraigh yelled as he gripped his brother in a headlock.
Kitty roared her laughter and recalled the two of them as kids, wrestling on the front lawn at Darraghfield, the roughhousing only ending when her dad pulled them apart or one of them started crying.
‘You two…!’ She smiled at them affectionately.
Hamish and Flo went to dance and she faced Ruraigh, raising her glass. ‘Congratulations, Ruraigh. I love Tizz, absolutely love her and I wish you both every bit of love and luck in the world. Not that you’re going to need it – you’re wonderful together.’
‘Thank you.’ He nodded.
She watched his colour rise, confident that he’d noted the overly effusive wording of her toast, intended to remind him of his lukewarm response to her own engagement, all that time ago in her college room.
There was a beat or two of silence while both looked at each other, as if aware that this was the time to put to bed the awkwardness that had simmered between them ever since.
‘You hurt me.’ She spoke plainly.
‘I never meant to hurt you, Kitty. Not for the world.’ He looked at his feet.
His apology caused her tears to pool – easy enough, as they’d been threatening since she’d found out about Theo and his Anna. But hearing her cousin’s words of remorse made her realise how much she’d longed for them.
‘It always mattered to me what you thought.’ She glanced up at him, tried to catch his eye. ‘I wanted to be just like you and Hamish, I wanted to make you proud and I was so excited to be marrying one of your friends. I thought you might have picked Angus for me and I couldn’t wait to see your face light up when I told you he’d proposed.’ She looked at the floor, reflecting on the depth of her feelings, surprised how raw she felt still. ‘I guess I was waiting for that look you used to give me when I’d done good. Like the time we went clay-pigeon shooting – d’you remember? – and you and Hamish dropped out when the competition got too fierce, but I went all the way and came second to Patrick’s son. I beat you both!’
‘Yes, you did.’ He smiled, shaking his head. ‘You always had to beat us.’
‘Or at least keep up. That was enough for me.’
Ruraigh took a step towards his cousin. ‘Did you ever think, Kitty, that I was only looking out for you, trying to protect you? Did you ever think that? That’s what big brothers do! But, Christ, your reaction made it impossible for me to even talk to you. There was so much—’ He stopped talking and took a deep breath.
‘So much what? Go on!’ She punched his arm.
‘So much I wanted to say to you. But hey, it looks like it’s all turned out just fine, and that’s that.’
She held his gaze and felt the tremble to her bottom lip and the twist in her gut. ‘It’s not perfect,’ she whispered.
‘Nothing’s perfect.’
‘I guess.’ She pictured her parents on the sofa in the library, giggling and sipping whisky, before the monster came to live with them, before her mum’s mind got a bit broken. ‘Tell me, Ruraigh. Please. I need to know what it is with you!’
He looked over his shoulder, as if checking that Angus wasn’t within hearing distance, then spoke into her ear. ‘There might have been rumours – rumours that I paid no heed to.’
‘Right.’ She waited for him to continue.
‘And that Thomas Paderfield… As I told you at the time, I’ve never liked the cut of his jib.’ He paused.
‘What do you mean?’ She blinked away the image of the garish red card. The Anvil.
Ruraigh rubbed his hand over his stubble and took a long pull on his beer bottle. ‘He and Angus were arguing the night before your wedding and… there was something about it I didn’t like.’
Kitty pictured her fiancé coming into the library and remembered how distressed he’d been. ‘I want you to make me the man I need to be.’
‘Tell me, Ruraigh. I need to hear it.’
Ruraigh flushed red, stammered a bit, then said, ‘I might have misheard, got the wrong end of the stick, but Thomas seemed to be talking about… about Angus having to make a choice. And how…’ He stared at his feet, scratched his stubble again. ‘How… that choice was between him and you.’
Kitty’s heart was hammering so fast she could barely breathe, let alone reply to Ruraigh’s bombshell. Images of Angus and bloody Thomas Paderfield swam into her head. The red card. The mixtape. The long nights out drinking. Was there a whole other story behind Angus’s remoteness, a story she hadn’t even contemplated? The friends he never invited home. The puffy eyes before the wedding. She staggered backwards, and Ruraigh caught her, held her close.
‘You have options, you know, Kitty,’ he whispered into her hair. ‘There isn’t a deal made that can’t be broken.’
Kitty was still fumbling for a reply when Tizz burst into the room. ‘There you are! Come on, you two, come and dance in the kitchen!’
‘You bet.’ Ruraigh squeezed Kitty tightly, and she felt the estrangement of the last few years slip away. ‘You’re a warrior, like your mum,’ he said quietly before being led away by Tizz.
*
‘You’re quiet.’ Angus knocked his knee against hers as the cab wound its way home through the darkness. It felt strange to be out past midnight.
‘Just tired,’ she lied, thinking about Ruraigh’s words and also about Theo’s news.
‘It was a bloody good party! You were right – it was good to have a drink and a dance, and we should definitely do it more often.’ He gripped her hand.
She stared at their joined knuckles on the back seat and replayed the conversation with Ruraigh over and over in her head, slicing and dicing the exchange to extract every single drop of meaning from it.
‘There isn’t a deal made that can’t be broken.’ It occurred to her that Ruraigh might have inadvertently used precisely the right word. Had she done a deal with Angus, albeit one that she wasn’t aware of? Could it be that he had forgiven her for sleeping with Theo because he figured it would mean she owed him?
What if he has a secret life? A life I can’t and don’t want to imagine?
‘Kitty!’ Angus called, and she jumped. ‘God, you were miles away. I was just saying that I have missed Soph. We should do something fun with her next weekend, a nice family day out?’
‘Yes.’ She smiled. Whatever else, he really was a wonderful dad.
‘Christ, don’t sound too enthusiastic!’
Kitty stared out of the window and cursed the tears that gathered. ‘It will be lovely.’
‘What is wrong with you? It was you that was keen to go to the bloody party, and now we have and you’re miserable!’ He slapped his thigh and she noticed he was using the loud voice that meant he was pissed.
‘What is wrong with me?’ She laughed. ‘Oh, Angus.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’ he yelled, and they both heard the cough of the cab driver, a reminder that he was present.
‘Can we talk about it when we get home?’ she asked curtly.
‘Oh good, we now have that to look forward to.’ He made the ‘T’ sound and gave a brief, disingenuous laugh.
When they reached home, Angus paid the taxi driver and Kitty went ahead, switching on the lamp in the sitting room.
Angus slumped down onto the sofa with an audible sigh. ‘So come on, let’s have it!’ He lifted h
is hands and let his palms fall loudly onto the cushions, as if already exasperated. ‘What now?’
‘I feel torn,’ she whispered.
‘What do you mean, “torn”?’ He sounded impatient, irritated.
‘I want to ask you something, but I feel sick about doing it and I’m scared of what you might or might not say, and I’m scared of how you’ll react, but I have this gnawing feeling in my stomach that I’ve had for the last week, since the business-card incident, or actually longer, probably years, and I need to get it out.’
He shifted on the sofa, leant forward with his elbows on his knees. His head seemed larger than usual in the lamplight.
‘I can do it, Angus. I can say what I am thinking if you promise me two things.’ He looked up and she continued. ‘I need you to promise to tell me the truth and I need you to promise not to get angry. I don’t want to fight. I really don’t. I just want to talk.’
‘Okay.’ He clamped his hands together and his foot jumped slightly against the floor.
Kitty took a deep breath and practised in her mind the many ways to phrase the question. It sounded ridiculous, laughable and distressing all at the same time. In the end her words were neither well planned nor dressed up but were simply the ones that leapt from her tongue.
‘Are you gay?’
‘Am I gay?’ he repeated. ‘For fuck’s sake, Kitty! How could you even—’
‘Don’t lie to me!’ Kitty raised her voice, thankful that Sophie was several miles away at Bonnie’s house.
She waited for the little tell-tale ‘T’ that always preceded his derisive laughter. But he remained quiet. The moments ticked by, seconds that she expected would be loud with angry rebuttals and the row she’d been keen to avoid. But he didn’t say anything. Which was almost worse.
Finally, he breathed out and then looked at her. There was a second of silent interaction that she knew was leading somewhere new, somewhere unchartered.
‘I’m not gay,’ he managed, ‘but I am bisexual. At least I think I might be.’
The words punched her chest with force.
How to Fall in Love Again: Kitty's Story Page 15