Stephen Howe picked up the phone and stared at the screen. Kate sang a song in her head so she wouldn’t have to listen to the sounds of the film. She saw his eyes widen as he watched, saw him shake his head like a drunk man trying to fight double vision. He looked at Angela with disbelief and bewilderment. She ran to her husband and snatched the phone. She stared at it, motionless, her eyes wide.
‘But—’
‘Be quiet, Stephen.’
‘But—’
‘I said be quiet!’
Angela Howe swallowed. Her face was stricken, not with anger or shame, but with what looked to Kate like abject fear. She was frantically chewing on the inside of her cheek. Her hands had started to quiver as if there were an electric charge running through her. Then as Kate watched, her breath bated, waiting for one of them to speak, Angela’s body relaxed and a fine veil of composure settled over her. She held the phone out towards Jon and a curious sneer cast a shadow across her face.
‘Well, Mr and Mrs Thorne,’ she said, crossing her arms as her sneer darkened. ‘That is certainly your daughter in all her glory, but the man in that film isn’t my husband.’
‘What?’ said Kate. She looked from Angela to Stephen, whose eyes were locked on his feet.
‘The man your daughter is so enjoying isn’t my husband.’
Kate grabbed the phone from Jon. ‘Of course it is.’
She pressed play.
‘That’s him,’ Kate spat. She faced the phone towards Stephen. ‘That’s you, isn’t it? You sick bastard.’
Angela took hold of Kate’s hand and turned the phone towards her face, pushing it close, about an inch or so away from her nose. ‘Look very carefully, Mrs Thorne. That’s no more my husband than it is yours.’
Kate stared at the phone, the picture blurred in its proximity. ‘It’s him,’ she whispered. ‘I can see it is.’
‘You can’t see anything. The picture’s far too grainy. Far too dark. I could find you a thousand men it could be. It could be anyone.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Kate moved her head back until the film came into focus. Yes, the picture was dark, and there were certainly shadows over the man whose head was obscured behind hunched shoulders and the lithe limbs of her daughter, whose perfect white skin glowed spectral in the gloom. It was also grainy, but she could still see it was Stephen. It was definitely him.
Surely, she thought, surely I haven’t got this wrong.
‘This wouldn’t stand up in any court in the country. A lawyer with a degree from eBay could rubbish this. You’ll be laughed out of the room.’ Her voice suddenly lost its cruel edge, and she adopted the firm unwavering persuasion of her deputy-head alter ego. ‘You have clearly been the victims of a cruel and childish prank.’
‘No,’ said Kate, shaking her head, desperate to keep her thoughts straight. She’d seen Rebecca’s face. She wasn’t lying. Kate wanted her to be lying more than anything else. But she knew it wasn’t lies. She could see the truth in Stephen.
‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s you.’
‘It’s lies, Mrs Thorne, the girl made it up. She . . .’
Kate was suddenly overcome with dizziness as her vision faltered and the floor began to shift beneath her weight. She blinked hard, forced herself to concentrate on what Angela was saying.
‘. . . your unprovoked and vicious attack. And it’s worked. She’s got into your heads, got you believing things that aren’t just false, but are farcical. She’s playing you for idiots and taking advantage of your vulnerability. She’s probably laughing at you right now for being so easy to manipulate. Go home. Throw the phone away and get on with your lives. My husband would never do such a thing. He would never jeopardize his career; he’s worked too hard. We’ve both worked too hard. What possible reason could he have for ruining his life like this?’ Then Angela turned to Stephen. ‘Tell them, Stephen. Tell Mr and Mrs Thorne you’ve done nothing wrong.’
The room was silent for a moment or two. Kate held her breath, head still spinning, her palms sweating. Then Stephen lifted his chin and squared himself as if he were a bloodied general preparing to fight on.
‘It’s not me in the film.’ Stephen spoke in a monotone. ‘Rebecca Finch is making it up. I didn’t do what she said. It is not me. I have no idea why she would say such a thing. I haven’t done anything wrong.’
Angela breathed out a sigh, then went to his side and stood facing them, shoulder to shoulder, like the brave wife and miscreant politician in front of a news crew. And for a second or two Kate was taken in by their show of togetherness. But as she stared at them, Angela’s relief hardened into a look of smug defiance.
No, thought Kate, this isn’t some sludgy infidelity that can be washed clean by flimsy denial; this is child abuse. Abuse of my child.
And then everything around her felt suddenly unclean: the air, the vacuumed carpet, the polished furniture – it was all polluted. She needed to get out. Her knees began to buckle and she had the horrible feeling she was going to collapse in a suffocated heap on their septic floor.
Jon put his arms around her. ‘It’s OK, sweetheart. We’re going home. I’m going to take you home.’
‘He’s lying, Jon. It’s him in that film. He’s not telling us the truth.’
Jon gently hushed her.
‘You have thirty seconds to leave.’
Jon ignored Angela and, keeping Kate clutched to his chest, he turned towards Stephen. ‘Whether or not that film is admissible in a court of law is beside the point. You and I both know it’s you with our daughter, and for this I hope you never sleep soundly again.’
The First Forbid
‘I don’t understand why you won’t cancel.’
‘How can I? It’s his birthday for goodness’ sake.’
‘No, his birthday’s on Wednesday.’
Jon didn’t reply.
‘How can you even think about smiling politely over the parsnips, then singing Happy bloody Birthday after this morning?’
‘I can’t! In fact, I can’t think of anything worse, but I’m not going to cancel, because my mother has cooked a Sunday lunch to celebrate my father’s birthday and I don’t want to let her down. I knew it would be impossible to do anything after seeing Stephen, which is precisely why I spent the whole of last night trying to persuade you not to go. But we did go. I went. For you. Now I’m asking you, if only in return, to come with me.’
He could see Kate remained unconvinced, but thankfully she finally nodded and Jon breathed a whispered thank you.
‘I have to talk to Lizzie first,’ she said.
His heart sank. ‘About what?’
She looked at him like he was an imbecile. ‘Haydn Howe?’
‘For God’s sake, not now.’
Kate raised her eyebrows. ‘If Lizzie’s seeing that boy I want it over with. Christ, he looks like he takes cocaine for breakfast. Just the thought of him even looking at her turns my stomach. I mean, what if he takes her home and Stephen’s there?’
She was quiet for a bit and he knew she was waiting for him to reply but he didn’t; he was too exhausted. Too much arguing, not enough sleep. There was no chance of it; every time he closed his eyes he saw them. He heard them too, even when he hid his head beneath the pillow and clutched it tight around his ears.
‘Jon? Is that what you want? Haydn with Lizzie? That man’s son touching your daughter? We need to talk to her. What if he gives her alcohol, like he did Anna? You’d be happy with that?’
Jon took a long slow breath, reminding himself to keep calm. Kate did this. She said things to provoke him. It was her way of coping with stress, and at this moment she was battling the bleakest pinnacle on a mountain of stress. They had argued again on the way home from the Howes’. It wasn’t a long or vicious argument – they were both too shell-shocked to have a serious fight – but once again they disagreed on what to do next, their closeness in Stephen’s house all too quickly forgotten. She wanted to go to the police. He didn’t. And now t
hey had to go to his parents’ house for a birthday lunch for a father who didn’t recognize him, and he couldn’t think of anything worse.
‘We’ll talk to her as soon as we get back.’
Kate nodded, and then pinched the bridge of her nose to stop herself crying.
‘Look,’ he said then. ‘If you’d really rather stay behind, then do,’ he said. ‘I can tell Mother you’re not feeling well.’
Kate seemed to shake herself from the inside out; she stood tall and gave an almost imperceptible nod. ‘No, you’re right. She’s asked Dan to come back, she’s arranged lunch, we should go.’
She went to the bottom of the stairs. ‘Lizzie!’ she called up. ‘We need to leave!’
‘What?’ came the call back. Her head appeared upside down at the banisters. ‘Where are we going?’
‘To your grandparents’.’
She shook her head. ‘But I’m going to the cinema with Sammy. It’s her birthday, remember?’ Lizzie pushed off the banister and ran down the stairs two at a time.
‘No, I don’t remember.’ Kate glanced at Jon and raised her eyebrows.
‘It’s Grandpa’s birthday. Your grandmother’s cooking a special lunch for us all,’ Jon said.
‘But I told you last week,’ Lizzie said with cartoonish petulance. ‘We’re meeting at half one and seeing a film and then going for pizza. And it’s not Grandpa’s birthday today. It’s on Wednesday.’
‘Lizzie, it’s important you come—’
‘You did this yesterday, Mum. It’s not fair.’ She was struggling not to cry. ‘I stayed in to see Uncle Daniel like you wanted.’
‘You’ve already been out this morning.’
‘I went to the library. Remember? You told me to go today instead of yesterday!’
Kate looked at Jon and raised her eyebrows again.
‘You can’t make me miss this,’ Lizzie went on. ‘Sammy will be gutted. She’s had it arranged for ages. I did tell you. I promise.’
‘You didn’t tell me. If you had, I’d remember.’
‘You were on your way up to the studio so maybe you didn’t hear me.’ Lizzie paused. ‘Anyway, Grandpa doesn’t even know who I am. He’s not even going to know if I’m at the table or not.’
‘Lizzie!’
Lizzie grimaced and glanced at Jon. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that like it sounded. I was just trying . . . Look, I’ll go and see him after school on Wednesday. On his actual birthday.’
‘No, you’ll come with us now.’
Jon could see his daughter beginning to panic. ‘If I go on Wednesday,’ she said, ‘and you go today, then he gets more people to see him.’
Jon stepped closer to Kate and took hold of her elbow. ‘You know, I think that’s a good idea. It sounds like there’s been wires crossed. She should go to the cinema—’
‘But—’
‘It’s OK, Kate. My mother will understand. To be honest, none of us are in the mood and I’m not sure anyone will mind Lizzie seeing her friends.’ To appease Kate he said to Lizzie, ‘You can go, but you need to come home after the film has finished.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Four thirty. We’ll be home by then. That’s three hours.’
‘But we’re going for pizza.’
‘Not today. We’d like you to come home.’
Lizzie’s eyes welled and then rose to heaven in exasperation. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘But Sammy is going to be really unhappy, and it’s all your fault!’ She spun on her heel and thumped back up the stairs.
‘You know,’ called Kate after her, ‘I’ve never heard you mention a Sammy.’
Jon pulled on her arm. ‘Come on,’ he whispered. ‘Not now.’
Lizzie stopped and turned. ‘Yes, you have. I talk about her all the time.’
‘Nope.’ Kate crossed her arms. ‘Never heard her name before.’
‘What are you trying to say?’
‘She’s not trying to say anything,’ said Jon. ‘We’re late, Kate.’
‘It means you say you’re seeing Sammy, but I don’t think you are.’
‘Well,’ she hesitated. ‘I am.’
‘What film are you seeing?’
‘We haven’t decided yet. Whatever’s on and looks good.’
‘Whatever’s on and looks good?’
‘Yes!’
‘Because I’d hate it if you were lying to us.’
Then Lizzie walked back down the stairs with a defiance about her that Jon hadn’t seen before; her resemblance at that moment to her sister snatched his breath, and he felt Kate tense.
‘When have I ever lied to you?’ Lizzie said with pointed control. ‘When have I ever been anything but the well-behaved daughter? Have I ever given you any reason to worry? And why are you so worried, anyway? I’m old enough to go out for a few hours on my own.’
Kate seemed unfazed by Lizzie’s sudden fortitude. ‘I’d just like to know where you are,’ she said.
‘At all times?’
‘Yes, Lizzie. At all times. If that’s not too inconvenient.’
Lizzie and Kate locked eyes.
‘Fine,’ said Lizzie. ‘Until four thirty I will be at the cinema with Sammy.’
‘Just so long as you’re not with Haydn Howe.’
Jon could have screamed. She just couldn’t resist it, and it dumbfounded him. He looked at Lizzie and saw her turn a guilty red, and his stomach knotted.
Lizzie looked from Kate to him then back at Kate. ‘Who?’
‘Haydn Howe.’
‘Haydn? Why on earth would I be seeing him? No. No, of course not. Why do you say that?’
‘We were told you were seeing each other.’
‘Well, whoever told you that got it wrong.’
Jon checked his watch; they should have left. His mother would be tutting.
‘Even if I was,’ Lizzie went on, ‘I don’t know what you’ve got against him.’
Kate didn’t say anything, but Jon could feel her bristling beside him.
‘What? You really think it was his fault Anna fell?’
Again Kate didn’t speak.
‘It wasn’t his fault. He loved her.’
The silence that followed was loaded with unspoken words.
‘I’m not seeing Haydn!’ Lizzie shouted suddenly.
‘Kate, this isn’t the time. We need to leave,’ Jon said.
‘You are not allowed anywhere near him!’
‘Enough, Kate. We’ll see you back here at four thirty,’ Jon said to his daughter.
Lizzie nodded, sending tears spilling down her cheeks. She turned and ran back up the stairs. Kate and Jon heard her bedroom door slam.
‘She’s not telling the truth.’
‘Fine, I agree, but you made your point. You told her you don’t want them to see each other. Anyway, it didn’t seem like a romantic relationship; she mentioned him loving Anna, for starters. Come on. Please. I’d like to get to lunch. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get back. We’ll talk to her later. Calmly. OK?’ He waited for an answer. ‘OK?’ he said again.
Kate nodded reluctantly, and finally stepped in the direction of his pull.
They arrived at his parents’ house and his mother showed them through to the living room. As they walked, Jon explained about Lizzie, but his mother seemed unbothered.
‘She said she’d pop in on Wednesday.’
‘If she has time that would be lovely.’
Dan was sitting in his father’s chair, rolling a glass of red wine around in his hand. Jon had no idea how his brother got away with wearing what he did. That day it was a brown suede trilby, a grey and black striped silk shirt beneath a corduroy jacket, and what looked like a maroon pashmina draped around his neck. He wore stonewashed jeans and pointed blue snakeskin shoes, and he’d grown some tufts of facial hair, which would have looked ridiculous on a man even half his age. It was completely galling how bloody handsome he still looked. Jon shifted uncomfortably in his collared shirt and v-neck sweater.
‘Would you like a drink
, Jon?’
His mother looked at him and he nodded. ‘A glass of wine would be lovely.’
‘And for Kate?’ she said to Jon.
Jon looked at Kate, who rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Yes, please,’ he said.
Kate poked her tongue out at his mother’s back, and Dan smothered a laugh.
‘For goodness’ sake,’ Jon whispered.
He turned to Dan and held out his hand for a formal hello. ‘So, how are you?’
‘Good, thanks.’ Dan stood and shook his hand, then strolled over to Kate. ‘And the divine Kiki. Thank you for a delicious meal yesterday. You know, I dream of your cooking in NYC.’
‘That was the first time I’ve cooked in months and months,’ she said.
‘What an honour. Thank you even more.’
Dan kissed her three times, then stepped back and made a big show of peering into her face. ‘Are you OK? You don’t look so happy. What’s happened?’
Jon saw Kate give a second thought to telling him. ‘She’s fine,’ he said quickly. ‘We’re both tired.’
Dan tweaked Kate’s cheek. ‘One day we’ll get that car-crash smile of yours back.’
Jon clenched his teeth. Kate sat down and Dan followed suit, picking his wine glass off the floor.
‘So, you think she’s got it right?’ Dan said, as he sat back and made himself comfortable. ‘You think this is the old boy’s last hurrah?’
‘What kind of question is that?’ Jon said.
‘Just wondering aloud. You never know, there might be a bit of cash coming our way.’
‘Jesus, Daniel.’
‘It was a joke, brother dear.’ Dan smiled and drained his glass.
‘As if you need money anyway. You must be the only artist in history that gets rich while they’re still alive to enjoy it.’
Sworn Secret Page 15