Behind the Lie

by Amanda James

  Ruan splashes his hand in the water and laughs as he’s showered with sparkling droplets. Iona watches him and he does exactly the same. I laugh too and right now I feel I am the luckiest woman in the world. They quickly had a positive ID on the blackened corpse of my husband, and as a consequence, I have my own home right on the beach where I’ve always dreamed of living. I have more money than I could ever need due to the sale of the London apartment and what was in our joint bank account. Because of how it arrived there, I gave lots away to charity, some to Demi and Alex to set up their new home, some to Mum and some to Yvonne. It made me feel good that her sick daughter would be helped by my donation. After all, Yvonne was just another victim of Simon, wasn’t she? A pawn in his ongoing game. She admitted to me when I called her that she didn’t tell me it was Simon that paid for her silence because she thought I might crack and blurt it to him and that would be the end of her. The excuse that a friend wrote the letter wouldn’t have washed either then, and she’d be terrified of what he’d do. Just one thing is missing, a person actually. But my heart has closed and locked the door on that one for ever. The keyhole has become rusted and corroded by endless and often unexpected tears. But now the well is dry. Time to move on.

  I lift Ruan and Iona onto a picnic rug and towel them dry. Even though the day is a scorcher I think they have had enough time in the pool. Perhaps I’ll take then in and give them a warm bath, before lunch, get the sticky sunscreen off their…

  ‘There you are!’

  I look up to see Demi and Alex hurrying down the garden path. ‘Oh hello, thought you were furniture shopping this weekend?’

  ‘We are, but Alex just told me something and I have to share it. He doesn’t want to, but I made him come.’

  Alex looks caught between a rock and a hard place. He can’t meet my eyes and, for once, a smile is far from his face. ‘What’s up, Alex?’ I ask.

  He sits on the grass and sighs. ‘It is supposed to be a secret, but Inspector Gadget here always knows when I’m hiding something.’

  Demi is busy cooing over the twins but says, ‘Get on with it, before I do.’

  ‘Okay… I ran into Jowan in the supermarket last night…’

  I raise my hand. ‘Don’t want to hear it, thanks.’ My heart won’t take any more of Jowan. How dare they come round here with his name on their lips? There’s a knot of anger in my chest and it’s tightening.

  ‘You will when he tells you what he said…’ Demi picks up Ruan and jiggles him on her knee.

  ‘No, I won’t, and stop jiggling him. He needs a nappy on or he’ll pee all over you.’ It will bloody serve her right if he does.

  Alex stands up. ‘Right, I think we should go. I told you she wouldn’t want to know.’

  Something about the way Alex says the words ‘she’ gets my hackles up. ‘It amazes me that you would be surprised I wouldn’t want to know, given the way that man – or child rather, he’s no man – just upped and left.’

  ‘But he didn’t…’ Demi begins.

  ‘Of course he did!’ I snap, pulling a nappy onto Iona and handing one to Demi for Ruan. ‘When all the excitement over Simon was over, and real life stretched in front of him, he decided he couldn’t take the responsibility. He’s a little boy at heart, always was. Oh yes, he likes to play the hero – but that’s all he can do, play at it. A real hero would be in it for the long-haul. The only long-haul he likes is a flight to somewhere far flung – wants to see the world, bless him.’

  At my unexpected outburst there’s a long silence and I turn my burning cheeks away from them as I dress Iona. ‘And why is he still here?’ I say. ‘Unless seeing the world was just another excuse to get away from us.’

  Behind me there’s a quick exchange of words in hushed tones and Alex sighs. ‘He had to work on his dad’s farm to get enough money together for the flight. He hated that of course but he had no choice. He’s leaving from Newquay Airport this afternoon, as it happens.’

  My fickle heart sinks at this. My head is furious. How can it be disappointed after everything that man put me through over the last five years? ‘Well, that’s nice then.’

  Demi puts Ruan’s sunhat on. ‘It’s not a holiday, Holly. He’s off to Syria to help with the humanitarian crisis.’

  My laugh is false, bitter. ‘Oh isn’t that just like him? It has hero written all over it.’ My heart frowns at that. A bit cruel, Holly.

  ‘He left because he thinks he’s not good enough for you, Holly,’ Alex says, kneeling beside me. ‘He couldn’t bear the fact that he let you down when he went in the army – that his leaving led to your drug addiction and also to Simon. Then he did it again when he fell asleep in the car… you could have been killed… he’s thinks you need someone better.’

  ‘Oh please,’ I say to stop my heart’s mutterings. ‘He will say anything – probably trying to impress you.’

  Alex spreads his hands. ‘Then why did he swear me to silence?’

  ‘Because he knew that you’d tell Demi and Demi would tell me? It isn’t rocket science.’ I pick up Iona and start to walk back to the house. ‘Can you bring Ruan please, Demi?’

  Demi follows close behind as we step into the cool of the kitchen. ‘I think you’re being harsh, Hols. It was only by chance that Jowan and Alex met last night. Jowan’s leaving in a few hours, so if he wanted you to know the truth he would have mentioned it to Alex before, wouldn’t he? They have been out for a drink a couple of times since you two split.’

  I spin round and glare at Alex who has the good grace to look sheepish. ‘Oh, nice to know who your friends are,’ I snap, while all the time my heart can see the logic of Demi’s words. But so what? What if it is true? I say as much to Demi.

  ‘Because if it is true, which I have no doubt it is – you can’t let him go off to Syria if you still love him. You do, don’t you?’

  Iona puts her arms out to Alex and I hand her over, walk to the sink, run water into a glass. I don’t drink it though; just stare out of the window at the ocean. A white boat is on the far horizon and I wonder where it’s going, about the lives of the passengers. Are they happy, sad, going through the motions of life, or living the dream? Some of us are lucky enough to be somewhere in between. My heart slips a sneaky thought in at the end. If you had Jowan, you would always be living the dream.

  ‘Look, we’ll look after the kids while you go to the airport. Just speak to him, if only to say goodbye.’ Demi gives me a pensive smile. ‘I don’t have to tell you how dangerous Syria is.’

  I say nothing because I can’t. Then I grab my car keys and rush out of the house. Once behind the wheel though I look at the keys in my hand but don’t insert them into the ignition. I’m running off to the airport to catch Jowan to say what? Don’t go, of course you’re good enough for me? I know you dumped me and ran off to the army, turned me into a junkie, but never mind, I got over it? Please come back and we can play happy families together? This isn’t some daft Hollywood film, this is my life.

  Out of the window I watch a seagull glide on the thermals, high above the ocean, the sun on its wings, beautiful, graceful, free. That gull doesn’t need anyone to look out for it, watch over it like it was some sickly kitten. It has to live on its wits, look out for itself, survive out in the world all by itself. If I’m honest I hate that Jowan had to rescue me from Simon. It played on my mind for weeks afterwards. I always end up being the victim somehow. He’s kicking himself that he fell asleep – I’m kicking myself that he had to be there at all. Of course I am eternally grateful that he was, but nevertheless… I’m sick of having men rescue me. I can rescue myself in future. It’s time I stood on my own two feet, made a life for myself and my children. I can do that on my own – should do that on my own.

  Before I can change my mind, I get out of the car and walk back to my house.

  Epilogue

  On the sand dunes are two toddlers, a boy and a girl. The boy is wearing a white sunhat and dungarees, his
sister is dressed the same, apart from a yellow hat, and they are laughing and digging in the sand. Sixteen months old and into everything. I have now developed eyes in the back of my head and there’s never a minute’s rest. Am I complaining? No. A jackdaw swoops near to them overhead, a bit too low for my liking, and Jowan leaps off the picnic rug and waves his arms at it.

  ‘Bloody scavengers!’ he says and chases it along the beach for a bit. He does make me laugh. In fact laughter is a big part of our lives nowadays. Me and the twins had fun before, but since he came back from Syria, we do laugh. A lot.

  I think back to the day I was off to catch him at the airport a year ago and I’m so pleased I didn’t go. In the time we were apart I learned to cope with everything by myself and raising twins as a lone parent is not plain sailing. I am proud of myself and am happy with the person I am becoming. I feel stronger than I ever have and can’t see that changing any time soon.

  Mum had been round often; she’s totally besotted with her grandchildren. And Demi and Alex, of course, so I never felt lonely. I think of the beautiful ivory wedding gown Demi showed me a photo of the other day – can’t wait for their wedding in the spring. And who’d have thought that she’s four months gone. Miracles do happen, apparently.

  Jowan’s been home six months now and we have spent our time just ‘being’. We bumped into each other on the beach not long after he came back from Syria and it was a bit awkward. He played with the kids and then I made an excuse and left. A week later I called him, suggested we met up. I felt strong enough to do that. It was on my terms, you see, not his.

  The relief on Jowan’s face when he saw me walk into the cafe is still fresh in my mind and how we sat over a coffee while he confirmed what Alex had told me. He’d said that I was the strongest person he knew and that he’d let me down very badly, once when he’d gone to the army, and then again in London; for that he couldn’t live with himself. He said that it was more down to luck than judgement that I was still alive, because he’d not believed the seriousness of the situation and allowed himself to go to sleep. I deserved someone far better than him. I remember that his exact words were: I’m a major fuck-up and always will be.

  My heart took over completely then, even though I had tried to keep it in check, and I told him that he was wrong, that he wasn’t a fuck-up and that if he hadn’t been by my side, believed in me from day one about Ruan still being alive, God knows where we’d be now.

  But I also told him that I wanted an equal, not a rescuer, and that if he thought I was strong then, he wouldn’t recognise me now. We agreed to take things slowly and to see where it led us. Most importantly he would follow my lead.

  So far it has led us well. Jowan has followed his dream of taking art lessons and even though I am quite biased, anyone can see that he is a really talented painter. He checks on the twins after he’s seen the bird off and flops back down in the sand next to me. ‘You know, you were saying that you’d give me the money to set up a small gallery, Holly?’

  I nod and offer him a sandwich.

  ‘Well, I’d like to accept on the condition that it’s a loan, not a gift.’

  I know better than to argue. There is absolutely no need for him to pay me back, but that’s just Jowan. We are very similar in that he wants to show himself and me that he can do this alone. It all goes back to his dad I guess. ‘Yes, whatever you want, Jo.’

  He grins and takes a bite from the sandwich and right then I hope that we are going to have that happy ever after that we talked about. And if we don’t, then we only have ourselves to blame. The shadows of the past are gone, and tomorrow looks like it’s going to be another lovely day.

  The End

  Copyright

  HQ

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  First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2017

  Copyright © Amanda James

  Amanda James asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

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  E-book Edition © April 2017 ISBN: 9780008258818