Behind the Lie

by Amanda James

  I put croissants into the oven and turn to find everyone pulling out chairs at the kitchen table. I smile and listen to the cheery conversation, the oohs and ahs directed at the twins, and lean into a warm hug as Jowan asks if he can help. He sets the table, Alex makes the tea and Demi plays with the twins.

  This scene of simple domesticity is one I’d like to photograph and keep for ever. By most people’s standards it’s not unusually beautiful, not grand, not a world landmark, but it is perfect to me. Perfect. And for the first time in a long while I can feel happiness pushing at the edges of despair. The sort of happiness I can believe is more than fleeting, that is real, that won’t be snatched away at a moment’s notice. Though Ruan is back, I must admit I worried last night that I had been imagining it, or that Angela would change her mind and have henchmen wrest him from my arms, or that something would happen, anything, that would mean I’d lose him again. Now I can at last start to plan a proper future, and this is where my friends come in.

  ‘Anyone like any more bacon?’ I look round at the rolling eyes and shaking heads.

  ‘If I eat any more of anything I’ll pop. It was lovely though; thanks, Hols,’ Demi says and pours everyone more tea.

  The others agree and I wonder how to broach the next bit. I am expecting opposition. My face feels stretched by the biggest smile I can find and I say, ‘So, I’ve decided to go back to London tomorrow and get a few sentimental bits and the rest of mine and Iona’s things. I would be so grateful if you would look after Iona again, Demi; Ruan too. I know it’s asking a lot but…’

  ‘Are you mad?’ Demi says, banging her mug down on the table.

  That was expected. ‘No. I’m perfectly sane.’ I try to curb a smile. She looks like an indignant child, wide green eyes blazing, copper curls bouncing, as she whips her head round to see the expressions of the others.

  Jowan frowns and pushes his mug to one side. ‘But I thought you’d just leave, not make contact with him again? I also thought that for the first few months we’d lie low – go up to my auntie’s in Sheffield, liked we talked about…’

  ‘This is my home. I’m staying put. If I run from Simon now I’ll be running for ever. I’m going to keep Ruan’s presence a secret from him, so he might just leave me alone – he must know we’re over. He’s got his mistress after all. If he knows our boy is alive he’ll need to know the whole story, and God knows what he’d do then. Probably go to the police, track down Mark and throttle him, Jonathan too. Our nice quiet life would be over.’ I frown but then give him a gentle smile.

  ‘Oh, I’ve heard it all now. And then what?’ Demi says, folding her arms tight across her chest. ‘You go to London and then what? What do you say to him?’

  ‘I’ll go when he’s not there. Leave him a note saying we are finished and…’

  ‘But what’s so important there that you have to go back at all?’ Demi nudges Alex. ‘Tell her, Alex.’

  Alex turns red and mumbles something that sounds like ‘not my place’.

  ‘And what if he knows what’s happened, or finds out before you arrive. Then what?’ Demi says.

  ‘Demi, will you stop saying “and then what?”,’ I say, looking at Jowan for support. He twists his mouth to the side and starts fiddling with the leather strap on his wrist. No help there then. ‘Look, will you all let me explain without jumping on me for a moment?’

  ‘But…’

  I cut Demi off with a raised hand and calm myself. ‘This is what I’m thinking. I’m going to London tomorrow to get photos of my dad, some jewellery left to me by my gran, and the rest of my stuff.’ Demi opens her mouth so I hold up a finger. ‘Yes, I can do without mine and Iona’s clothes, but the photos of Dad are the only ones I have of him and me together and Gran’s jewellery will be passed on down the line.’

  There is contemplative quiet for a bit and then Demi says, ‘But what if Simon suspects you’re going to leave him, that news has got out about Ruan somehow? What if he comes back while you’re there and goes crazy?’

  ‘I know for certain he suspects nothing. Don’t you think he’d be here beating the door down if he did? I spoke to him yesterday morning and told him I was looking forward to coming home. He said he missed me and couldn’t wait for me to be back. Then he phoned me again last night after he’d checked his operating schedule and said I should come the day after tomorrow. I’ll go tomorrow instead while he’s at the clinic, get my things and leave a letter saying we’re over and that I know everything about his woman. Say I don’t want him to come after me, and that’s the end of it.’

  Three shocked faces look at me and then everyone starts babbling at once. Holding my hand up makes no difference, so I thump it on the table instead. That works. Just as I open my mouth, Jowan says, ‘Well, I’m not sure it’s a good idea. In fact I think it stinks. But if you’re determined, there’s one sure thing – I’m coming too. I’ll stay in the car, just in case. No arguments.’

  Relief floods through me. That saved me having to ask. ‘No argument from me there. And thanks, Jo.’

  ‘And then what? He just accepts it all? As if. You know what he’s like. He won’t lose.’ Demi stands up and gathers Iona up as she’s starting to grizzle. Ruan copies his sister so I pick him up too.

  Ruan snuggles his head under my chin and a little sigh leaves him. For a moment I’m lost in the feel of his soft hair against my skin and the lovely baby smell of him. Then I realise that Demi is still waiting for an answer. Alex and Jowan too. ‘He’ll have to accept it, Demi, because I will say in the letter that if he tries to come after us he’ll be in the middle of a shit storm, in court for an expensive divorce, and exposed as a callous adulterer while his wife was pregnant, and even after she’d lost her baby. His career might be damaged too because some of the wives of friends in his “circle” will certainly not approve. And regarding the affair, I’ll say I have concrete proof that will stick. I won’t say more than that.’

  Alex speaks for the first time, an apologetic look on his face. ‘Well, I think that might not work, because you don’t have proof, do you? And more importantly, I think Mark and Jonathan ought to get their punishment, so get the police involved. Mark might come after Ruan, or send someone to snatch him. Get Angela to agree to share her tape. That’s the only way you’ll be sure this is over.’ Demi gives him an approving smile and turns questioning eyes on me.

  ‘Angela would have done that already if she’d wanted to,’ I say. ‘She just wants to put it behind her and start a new life, as do I. How many times have I been through this with you all? Can you imagine what that would be like – the media here talking to friends, neighbours, to poor Mum? If they couldn’t get a story they’d make stuff up. My past addiction would be dragged up and spewed across the newspapers and TV even – Mark is pretty high-profile, don’t forget. Yvonne would be dragged into it with her daughter; she might even be charged. No. I’ll leave it as a threat, thank you very much. Of course I’d like to see those two bastards punished, but as long as Simon leaves us alone, never finds out about Ruan, then I’ll settle for that.’

  ‘He’ll still want to see Iona after the divorce, when things have settled down, though, won’t he? Iona is obviously going to talk about Ruan when she’s with him, it’s only natural,’ Demi says.

  ‘Well, hopefully he won’t want to see her. He’s never shown much interest in her so far… but if he does ask to see her later, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.’ I know that sounds lame but I have no other answers at the moment.

  I’m thankful there are no more ‘and then whats’, just thoughtful expressions and a smile from Jowan. Then Demi shakes a fluffy rattle at Iona and asks, ‘Yeah, but how can you be sure he won’t come back while you’re at the flat?’

  This is getting silly now. I sigh and reply, ‘I’ve told you. He’s working tomorrow and expecting me the day after. That’s why I’m going tomorrow.’

  ‘But he might be ill or something and not g
o to work. I just worry you might be putting yourself in danger, love,’ Demi says, looking at me over the top of Iona’s head.

  A fleeting image of the look in Simon’s eyes when he pinned me up against the bathroom wall crosses my mind but I make my voice calm. ‘He’s all bloody mouth and no trousers, that guy. He wouldn’t be a danger… and besides, he’s never ill.’

  ‘I’ll be with her anyway,’ Jowan says. ‘I’d like to see him try anything with me there.’

  Demi still looks unconvinced so I say, ‘Look, if it makes you feel better, I promise I’ll ring the surgery to check he’s there before I go into the apartment. I’ll get Jowan to stand guard in the underground car park in case he drives in too, okay?’

  She relaxes her jaw a bit but says, ‘I guess so. But I still don’t like it.’

  ‘Neither do I. But that’s what’s happening. Afterwards we can drive back down here and everyone will live happily ever after. All the bad stuff will be left in London where it belongs,’ I say with a determined smile, fixing my gaze on all three.

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ Alex says and slips his arm round Demi.

  ‘And to me,’ Jowan says, holding his arms out for Ruan, who’s wriggling under my chin and trying to turn round. Probably looking for his sister. ‘Particularly the living happily ever after bit.’

  ‘So, you’ll drive back up tomorrow evening?’ Demi asks. I nod. ‘Won’t that be a bit of a marathon trip?’

  ‘We can share the driving and I don’t want to spend another night away from my babies,’ I answer, looking at Jowan for confirmation. I find it in a slight incline of his head and a wink.

  ‘Well, if you’re determined to go, I wish you a speedy round trip. Then we can get on with all this living happily ever after lark,’ Demi says, giving Iona to me as she begins to clear the table. Then she stops and looks at me, a frown furrowing her brow. ‘Hey, what about your mum? She doesn’t even know Ruan is back yet, does she?’

  ‘No. And there’s no use telling her until I’m back here from London for good. Then she can come round and meet her grandson and we’ll have a proper celebration party. If I tell her now, she’ll be round in a right old state, asking all sorts of questions and threatening to tell the police about Mark and Jonathan.’

  Demi nods and thankfully that’s the end of the inquisition. We have coffee and talk about normal things, which is such a relief from the madness of the last few weeks. Then Demi and Alex leave, and the four of us are alone. The four of us has a nice ring to it. Jowan suggests going to the beach later and starts gathering the twins’ stuff together. He is a natural with babies; goodness knows why, given he’s had no experience. There will be a huge hole in my life if and when he leaves, and it will be very hard to let him go. Thankfully, he shows little sign of wanting to right now.

  Down the sink with the dregs from the coffee cups, I pour a bucketload of confused feelings. Is it fair to expect him to stay with us? What about his freedom? He’s only just left the army. Does he want to be saddled with a ‘ready-made’ family and all the baggage associated with it? It’s safe to say that my family have more baggage than most, given the circumstances. Have I just become reliant on having a man to help me out of my messes? First Simon, now Jowan. Isn’t it about time I learned to be independent?

  Jowan catches me looking at him when he glances up from packing a beach bag and says, ‘You look thoughtful. Everything okay?’

  Words line up on my tongue, yet some haven’t linked arms enough to form a complete sentence. I shrug and then think I have an answer. ‘I hope it will be when we come back from London. But we need to talk seriously about what happens with us when we do, yes?’

  Jowan frowns but then a smile lights the shadows in his eyes. ‘Okay by me, Hols. But believe me, our future looks sunny as far as the eye can see.’ He puts Iona on the play mat and Ruan on the changing mat and busies himself getting my boy ready for the beach.

  Out on the balcony I notice the clouds are gathering and Simon’s image flits through my mind. He could well be the dark clouds on Jowan’s idea of a sunny future. Tomorrow’s journey has to be made, however, and I send a wish to the ocean for a safe and swift one.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Even though I know I’ll return tonight, my stomach lurches and every instinct pulls me back to the front door where Alex and Demi stand with the twins, waving and smiling their goodbyes. Every instinct except one. The one that insists that, in order to move forward, I have to shut the door on the past. Shut it and bolt it securely. As Jowan drives us away, I fight back tears and make my mind list the reasons for going to London again. In my head I repeat them, mantra-like, to avoid my heart getting in the way and making Jowan turn the car round.

  The only way to keep that door securely bolted is to make sure Simon stays away. He will only stay away once he’s read the letter. If I don’t write that letter he will fly straight down here like a demon when he realises I’ve gone. Why a letter? When I could do it over the phone? It’s because a letter will be reread, will hit harder than spoken words. Words that might get muddled, lost, diluted. He can’t answer back to a letter, can he? I need to go to the apartment, physically remove my life from his, get my photos, my gran’s jewellery. He would burn them, bin them, and that would be too hard to bear.

  Through the window the Atlantic Ocean whizzes past, grey, green, galloping white horses racing the wind to the shore. Deep, deep. My heartbeat quickens and I feel my cheeks colour as I allow an admission hitherto squashed: that I want to win. I want to beat Simon, for him to know, even though he’s cheated on me and attempted to rape me, that his little wife – his trinket, the trophy he rescued from drowning in drugs and despair – is now stronger than him.

  Right is on my side, and Jowan. And strong women too. Yvonne, Angela, Demi and even, albeit unwittingly, Isadora formed a chain of defence, lit a path forward. Against the odds I have found my boy, tracked him down, and taken him back. Holly Trevillick, the naive Cornish maid, has beaten two supposedly powerful men with friends in high places. And very soon I’ll be starting a whole new life back in Cornwall where I belong. Simon will have to live with that and the fact that there is not a damned thing he can do about it.

  *

  It’s all very well to have determination, grit and confidence when you’re speeding along next to the sunny Atlantic and the world you know. It’s a bit different when you’re crawling through the outskirts of London after a five-hour drive and the heavens have just opened. The forward-and-back thump of the wipers competes with my heartbeat and I look across at Jowan’s profile. More than anything right now I want to stop the world and get off it with him. Take him to bed and stay there for the rest of the day. I can’t, of course, and I look away.

  Lost in thought, I find my eyes on him again a few moments later. He’s concentrating on the lunchtime traffic stretching endlessly before us and drumming his fingers on the wheel. His drumming is out of sync with the wipers and that irritates me. I realise that it only irritates me because I’m tired, nervous and worried, and realise he must be too. It’s not fair to make an issue out of the drumming, so I get my phone out and check texts and emails, to take my mind off everything more than anything else.

  Simon’s name is the first text I see and a distraction I could do without. It was sent ten minutes ago. Shall I open it or not? One little touch of my fingertip could open up a sea of problems, or a huge chasm that I’ll tumble into, free falling to jagged rocks beneath. What if he’s at the apartment? What if he’s home ill like Demi suggested he might be. Okay, he’s never ill, but that means, by sod’s law, it’s about time he should be. Nobody can remain healthy all the time, can they? If he is, the trip will be for nothing and we’ll have to turn round and go home.

  Jowan gives me a quick smile and stops the drumming. The quiet instantly calms me and I jab my finger at the screen and open the text:

  Darling Holly, I can hardly concentrate on my work today as I am so lo
oking forward to seeing you tomorrow. Grabbing a bite to eat now, but will be operating at 3pm. I love you sweetheart – see you soon xxx

  Through a small mouth I release a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. Thank God he’s at work. The clock on the dial says one-fifteen. The satnav calculates we’ll be at the apartment in an hour. Unless the traffic starts moving faster, we can double that. Still, at least I know he won’t be at the apartment. I tell Jowan.

  ‘Well, that’s good, isn’t it? And this traffic looks like it’s going from a crawl to a walk now – that’s something. How the hell did you live in such a hellhole? I couldn’t cope with this every day.’

  ‘Didn’t have much choice, did I? After today I won’t ever be back.’ That thought makes me a bit sad. London is a wonderful city, with so much history, diversity and extraordinary places to visit. But Simon has forever tarnished it, because whenever I think of it, I think of him.

  We come to a red light and Jowan gives a snort of frustration. ‘It’d be quicker to walk.’

  My hand covers his on the steering wheel and I feel a shock of desire run through my fingertips. I must have passed it on to him, because he leans across and gives me a long, sensuous kiss. We jump apart at the sound of a taxi horn behind us and laugh when we notice the light has gone green. ‘Did you know that when we spent the night together in Devon, you didn’t cry out in your sleep?’ I say, even though I hadn’t planned to.

  Jowan raises an eyebrow then turns back to the traffic. ‘Well, that’s good to know. It must be your calming influence on me.’

  This had crossed my mind but my mind wasn’t entirely convinced, so it’s nice to have it confirmed. ‘Must be…’

  ‘You know, yesterday, when you said let’s talk about the future when we get home? As far as I’m concerned, my future is…’

  ‘When we get back, Jo. I don’t want to do it here. Not in a London traffic jam in the rain.’