by Lucy Dawson
Eventually his eyes flicker up dully. ‘I’m not pissed,’ he says eventually, ‘if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘I didn’t say anything—’
‘How could you?’ he bleakly cuts across me before the words are properly out of my mouth. ‘And don’t say you were drunk, you must have had some idea what you were doing.’
My eyes fill with tears. ‘I was drunk yes, but—’
‘I went to a party tonight, perfectly happy, having a drink and then some doctor walks up to me and everything turns to shit, my whole life, and …’ he forces his eyes tightly shut, ‘you let me say hello to that bastard like some fucking stupid kid, when all the time he, and you, knew that …’ he pauses painfully and then asks me again. ‘How could you?’
I have to tell him the truth. I have to.
‘Dan, it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t—’
‘I knew something was wrong. I KNEW it.’ He sits up and puts his head in his hands. ‘I asked you about those emails and you said it was nothing.’
I feel tears of shame prick at the back of my eyes. ‘I made a horrible mistake. I know that’s not enough, but it didn’t mean anything, I promise you!’
I can hear myself saying the small, useless words and realise how lame and pathetic they must sound to him, because they don’t come anywhere close to capturing what that night was like. Just for a moment I remember Leo once saying them to me, how it felt to hear them, how I know Dan is feeling now.
‘I knew I was right.’ He repeats, barely hearing me. ‘You kept shutting your computer down when I came into the room, getting texts from him. When I saw those emails …’ He puts his hands over his head and then looks at me bleakly. ‘How long has this been going on?’
I’m dumbstruck. He’s been worrying and watching all this time? That thing on my mobile, might he have? … ‘It’s not what you think,’ I insist.
‘Don’t lie to me again.’ He doesn’t break his gaze. ‘So why did you go out and get a new phone then? I’m not stupid, Molly! You think I’ve not noticed you turning off your work one each night? Was it so that I wouldn’t see his messages?’
‘Dan, I swear to you, it happened once.’
‘But how I can believe you?’ He shouts. ‘You’ve already lied to me!’
‘Please, Dan,’ I plead. ‘Try not to shout. They’ll hear us next door. It’s not fair to them.’
‘Fair?’ he says incredulously. ‘You’re worried about what’s fair?’
We both pause.
‘You’re at home all day, or at meetings fuck knows where, off at conferences – for all I know this could have been going on for ages. Is this why you’ve not wanted to start a family with me?’ his voice cracks.
‘No!’ I can’t believe he could think that. ‘Of course not! Pearce isn’t—’
‘If you’ve been having an emotional thing with him behind my back,’ he points at me warningly. ‘I’m telling you now, if that’s what this is—’
Any confession I might have made about Leo dies immediately on my lips. He will never believe that there was no emotional involvement there, I’m not entirely sure I could believe that myself. ‘I was so drunk I didn’t know what I was doing. It was one night,’ I say quietly. ‘I promise you on my life.’
We sit there silently and he drops his head to his hands exhaustedly, giving me the first proper view of the hideously swollen knuckles on his right hand. Even in the half-light, I can see the bruise has already come up and is turning violent colours, probably much like Pearce’s face. Shocked, I half stand, reach out and say, ‘Oh Dan! Your hand—’
‘Leave it.’ He says instantly, shrinking away from my approaching touch.
I try to move closer. ‘But it’s—’
‘I said leave it.’ He stands up quickly and moves to the hall doorway. ‘I can’t even look at you right now.’ His jaw clenches. ‘All I can see is that fucking bastard touching you, and you pissed and …’ his face contorts with rage then collapses into misery. He wrestles to get himself under control. ‘Please, just go to bed.’
I don’t know what to say. He moves aside as I go to walk past him, which breaks my heart completely because all I want to do is rush to him; kiss him, hug him, cling to him and tell him over and over how sorry I am. But none of it’s enough.
‘I love you so much,’ I whisper.
He scrunches his eyes closed tightly as if somehow that might also block out my voice. ‘Don’t,’ he begs. ‘Please don’t. I can’t do this right now. Please, just leave me alone.’
Hugging my knees to my chest, sat on our cold bed as I rock on the spot, my face wet with tears, I listen to him slowly getting the sofa bed out downstairs.
If I was frightened before, now, I’m terrified.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I jerk awake at about half-six having had snatches of confused dreams that I am back with the boyfriend I had before Leo, that we’ve moved into a house together. He was holding my hands and trying to kiss me – and while it was a relief not to be with Leo, I kept pulling back in total confusion thinking, ‘This isn’t right, how did I end up with you? I’m sure there was someone else who I was much happier with, someone who …’
Then everything that happened last night rushes back to me, and I crane to hear some evidence of that person moving around downstairs. Everything is silent. I creep down the stairs, peer round the door and feel physically sick with relief to see the outline of his body still on the sofa bed. Disappearing back upstairs, I lie quietly in our bed waiting for him to wake up, but by half-seven – a quarter of an hour later than he normally gets up – he hasn’t moved.
‘Dan?’ I say tentatively, going back down five minutes after that. He shifts and peers at me standing over him before turning his face away and closing his eyes again, as if he wishes I wasn’t. A waft of stale booze mixes powerfully with the pine fresh Christmas tree.
‘Are you going into work today?’
He shakes his head almost imperceptibly and moves again, his bashed-up hand comes into view and rests redundantly on the duvet cover.
I wince. ‘Your hand …’
‘I can move my fingers,’ he mutters. ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘You don’t think you should see a doctor?’ I say it without thinking. He opens his eyes and shoots me a quick look before closing them again.
Desperate for something normal and useful to do, I walk over to the Christmas tree and switch the lights on. It begins to merrily twinkle, but as I’m stepping away from it, I trip over one of Dan’s shoes which I haven’t noticed sticking out from under the edge of the sofa bed, stumble and shoot a hand out to the nearest thing that will steady me, but there’s nothing there, only the tree. It topples over sideways and lands in a crash of baubles and flurry of needles. Dan jerks his head up and stares at me in disbelief before saying ‘What are you doing?’ It’s enough to make me burst into tears, standing there foolishly in my pyjamas, everything crashing down around me.
He picks the tree up while I get the hoover out. Once I’m finished, and everything is almost as it was, the sound of Mel bellowing ‘Jingle Bells’ at Jack filters in from next door.
Dan glowers at the wall silently, but says nothing, just rubs his face tiredly with his good hand. ‘Have you got meetings this morning?’ he says quietly as I sink on to the edge of the sofa.
I shake my head. I don’t even know if I have a job after last night. ‘I’m going to call Antony in a bit.’
‘You know what one of the worst bits of this is?’ he says suddenly. ‘Knowing that you kept all this from me.’
‘I wanted to tell you Dan. I SO wanted to tell you.’
Mel’s front door bangs and we hear her shout ‘Come on then! Let’s get in the car. No – the car! Don’t put that in your mouth, it’s dirty.’ Then car doors slam, the engine starts and the tyres crunch on the gravel before leaving us in absolute silence.
Dan closes his eyes and whispers, ‘I wanted to kill him. I actually wanted
to kill him. I have never felt so much hatred for another person in my whole life.’
I look at the floor.
‘Do you have any idea how it feels, Molly, to think about you … drunk and …’ he closes both of his eyes tightly again, like he’s trying to shut it out. ‘Don’t you understand? Anyone that hurts you … and yet I’m just supposed to … FUCK!’ he shouts, darting a hand out and hurling the lamp from the small table across the room so fast I don’t even realise he’s done it until the base explodes on the wall.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I begin to cry quietly. ‘I’m so, so sorry, Dan.’
‘You should have stopped it!’ he shouts. ‘Why didn’t you stop it?’
‘I was too out of it to know what I was doing.’ I’m so bitterly ashamed the words are no more than a whisper.
He gets up and walks out of the room, slamming the door behind him. There’s nothing more I can do than sink to the floor and begin to slowly pick up the shattered pieces of the lamp.
When he comes back down, showered and dressed in home clothes, it’s just as I’m putting my mobile down. ‘Who were you calling?’ he says sharply.
‘Antony rang me. He’s told me to cancel my meetings. We’re going to talk in about an hour.’
He doesn’t say anything to that, just sits back down. ‘Has he tried to call you?’
‘No.’
‘Did it really only happen once?’ He asks me outright.
‘Yes.’
‘That’s the absolute truth?’
‘On my life.’
He stares at the floor, and trying to work out what he’s thinking, what those questions mean, I begin to babble.
‘I love you,’ I say. ‘I made a mistake; a huge error of judgement that I will regret for ever. I—’
‘Stop,’ he says quickly. ‘I don’t want to hear any more.’
I don’t know what more I can say anyway.
We sit there for what feels like hours, opposite each other.
‘Who else have you told?’
‘Joss.’
‘Anyone else?’
‘No one.’
‘Because the only way I can even consider doing this,’ he says quickly, ‘is if no one knows. None of our families, friends … especially not about last night. I can’t handle anyone pitying me, I won’t be able to deal with that.’
‘I understand—’ I begin.
‘I want it to be like it never happened. You have to promise me,’ he says fiercely.
‘I promise, of course I promise.’
‘And you have to leave your job.’ He looks at me defiantly, almost daring me to say no. ‘As soon as possible.’
I think back to the humiliation of last night, all of my clients standing there looking at me, Pearce sprawled on the floor, Antony not able to look at me. I’d give pretty much anything not to have to deal with the aftermath of that, and have a fresh start somewhere else.
‘The thought of you being in the same room as him …’ Dan clenches his jaw. ‘All the time you work for the same company he can email you and phone you, get news about you. Every day I’d be going off to work worrying that you were going to see him, imagining you talking to him. I knew that something was going on and I can’t spend every day from here on in worrying that it’s starting up again. That’ll kill me. I don’t even care about the money. You just have to leave. Effective from today.’
Today? I look at him uncertainly. ‘Well – I’ll try, when Antony calls but …’
‘You’ll have to just make it happen somehow.’ He says defiantly, sensing my reservations. ‘It’s a job, not a prison sentence. You don’t HAVE to do it. I want you to clear your work email down by the end of today too, and give that phone back. I’ll drive it over to their offices myself.’
‘Dan, it’s not that simple—’
‘My hand is fine,’ he insists, misunderstanding me.
‘No, I mean the car is theirs too.’
He pauses, he’d obviously forgotten that. ‘Well, we’ll have to arrange for that to go back as well. And I want to get you a new phone.’
‘But I’ve just got one!’
He shakes his head determinedly. ‘He’s got that number too, for all I know.’
‘He hasn’t – I promise you.’
‘It’s the only way this can be,’ he insists, warningly.
‘OK, OK.’ I agree hastily. ‘I’ll go and get dressed and then we’ll … get sorted.’
He just nods.
I get up, make my way to the doorway and then pause there for a moment, and look back at him.
‘I can’t promise anything,’ he says. ‘But I’ll try. That’s the best I can do.’ He looks at the floor again and mutters, ‘I knew I wasn’t going mad. I knew it.’
‘Dan—’
‘I think I’d just like to be on my own again for a bit please.’
Defeated, I leave the room. He keeps saying that; he knew. Joss was right, I must have let myself get so over-wrought I gave it all away without even realising it. I almost want to ask him about the tracking application but the last time I made a wild accusation like that … and I honestly think if I question the trust between us again right now that will be it.
And anyway, arguably he had good reason to do it. He was right, I did cheat. Whether it was acceptable or not for him to track my movements is neither here nor there. In all honesty, the only person who has fucked up from beginning to end here – is me.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‘Mum, where would I have found anywhere on Christmas Eve selling double cream – even if I had got your message?’
‘Double cream?’ Dad repeats as he comes into the kitchen and looks between me and Mum. ‘What on earth do you want more double cream for Meg? There’s a dairy’s worth out in the big fridge.’
‘I know, but,’ Mum frowns at the tray of mince pies on the table, slapping Chris’s hand away as he breaks from present wrapping and tries to sneak one, which makes Karen grin. ‘I’ve still got the trifle to do and … I expect you’re right though. We’ll manage.’
Dad rolls his eyes and then says ‘Aha!’ happily, as he spies his glasses on the table, picks them up and purposefully strides back out again.
‘I keep using your old new phone number Molly, it’s so annoying,’ Mum sighs. ‘I’d only just learnt it, and now I’ve got to un-learn it all over again.’
‘Sorry,’ I try to keep my voice relaxed, pretending to read a magazine. I don’t look at Dan. ‘I didn’t lose it on purpose.’
‘You’d think someone would have handed your phone in, wouldn’t you?’ Mum continues. ‘Especially seeing as you knew everyone at that silly party. I still don’t understand why you had to change the number though.’
‘It’s an identity fraud protection thing,’ I say vaguely.
‘Really?’ Mum says, fascinated. ‘They can clone you just from having your phone? Well I think that’s horrid. It’s Christmas for goodness’ sake.’
‘What difference does that make?’ Chris looks up from biting off a piece of Sellotape that immediately doubles back and sticks to his fingers.
‘Were you drunk?’ Mum frowns at me. ‘Is that why you lost it? That’s not very good for your ovaries you know.’
Yeah, because they’re at the top of my worry list. ‘No Mum,’ I reply shortly, shooting a nervous glance at Dan who is focusing on leafing through a Christmas gifts catalogue. ‘I wasn’t drunk.’
‘It’s a harsh slur, Mum,’ Chris says lightly. ‘Get it?’
No one except me notices as Dan gets up and walks out of the room. Worriedly, I look down at my magazine again. Should I go after him or leave him alone?
‘Chris,’ Karen interrupts, reaching out and taking the Sellotape from him as Dan abruptly stands up, ‘if you put any more tape on that present Oscar’s going to need a hacksaw.’
‘And do NOT eat any of these while I get the cake from the garage,’ Mum points at Chris severely as she steps away from the mince pies.
‘Every man’s dream,’ Chris muses. ‘Wife in one ear, mother in the other.’
‘You all right Moll?’ Karen remarks as she measures a piece of wrapping paper. ‘You’re quiet tonight.’
‘Just tired.’ I try to smile. Chris reaches out, grabs a mince pie and stuffs it whole into his mouth.
‘Probably knackered from all that baby-making you and Dan have been doing,’ Karen teases.
Chris gives her a look of dismay. ‘Do you mind?’ he says through a flurry of pastry crumbs. ‘That’s my sister. I don’t want to hear about stuff like that.’
‘Them having sex you mean?’ Karen says innocently.
‘Seriously, stop it,’ Chris insists but she just laughs.
He needn’t worry. For two weeks now Dan has barely kissed me on the cheek, let alone anything else. To the outsider things may appear normal, but behind closed doors … I sit next to Dan and I feel him shrink away. If I deliberately move closer, even boldly put his arm round me, it just lies there lifelessly and after a moment or two he removes it. Last Sunday night, the weekend before Christmas, when usually we would be out seeing friends, we stayed in because Dan didn’t want to see anyone. I quietly wrapped some presents and he watched a couple of movies back to back, silently stretched out on the sofa. During the last, I crept over and sat down next to him on the floor. That was as close as I got. The idea of sex is laughable; we can’t even hold hands.
‘So have you got all of next week off Moll? When do you go back to work?’ Karen enquires as she starts to wrap a fairy wand for Lily.
‘Um, not sure yet,’ I say, trying to sound light and upbeat, while wishing I could snatch the wand from her, wave it and make everything magically OK. ‘Everything’s a bit up in the air at the moment.’
Chris, still chewing, frowns. ‘What do you mean?’
They both look at me curiously as Mum staggers back in carrying a vast Christmas cake which makes such a heavy thud when she puts it down I almost expect it to go right through the table top. ‘Oh Chris!’ she scolds, looking at the pies. ‘I told you not to—’
‘Mum, shut up!’ Chris instructs. ‘What are you talking about? How can your job be up in the air?’