by Fallon, Jane
By the time they were back downstairs several more guests had arrived. Pauline and John were doling out glasses of champagne on a one-for-me-one-for-you basis and were already a little unsteady on their feet. Finn was running excitedly from one group of people to another and generally being too loud and getting in the way, but Stephanie decided to let him enjoy himself for a while before the inevitable tears when she tried to get him to go to bed. She looked around for James and saw that he was chatting with one of his work colleagues. He smiled and waved at her, and she turned to talk to the nearest person to her and found herself embroiled in a very dull and intense discussion about the core curriculum with the father of one of Finn's friends. After a couple of minutes of nodding and trying to look like she cared, she excused herself and put the iPod in its speaker dock, setting it to quietly play one of the many playlists James had created for the occasion. Classical violins filled the room. Later, once everybody had loosened up a bit, she would switch to the eighties pop compilation and ramp up the volume in the hope that someone might start dancing. Pauline probably, if she had many more drinks, Stephanie thought fondly.
She checked on the Japanese chefs, who were entertaining a few stray guests in the dining room with their cutting techniques. ‘Five minutes?’ she said to one of them, indicating when they might start preparing their food in earnest, rolling futomaki rolls and forming tiny pats of rice to make nigiri. He nodded and communicated something or other with his colleagues in Japanese. The plan was that they would bang a gong in a slightly hammy fashion when they were ready to begin serving and people could go in and ask for what they wanted or just watch and try different things.
It was a beautiful May evening. The doors to the garden were open and Stephanie noticed that a few of their friends had drifted out in groups. Finn was now beside David's cage, lecturing anyone who would listen on the best way to care for a guinea pig. Stephanie smiled; he took his responsibilities so seriously. There must be forty people here by now, she thought, and then she remembered that she was the hostess and she should be making sure they were all having a good time. She moved back through to the living room, stopping to chat for a couple of minutes here and there. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves; no one looked left out or lost.
Before she noticed he was there she felt an arm snake round her shoulders and James was standing next to her. He kissed the top of her head and she felt herself stiffen and then forced her body to relax. ‘Are you having a good time?’ she asked.
‘It's perfect. We're lucky we have such great friends.’
‘Mmm,’ Stephanie said, not quite knowing what else to say. James was looking down at her intently and she looked away, grasping around for something else to talk about.
‘Finn seems to be having a good time —’ she began, but then petered out as James interrupted.
‘Come upstairs a minute. I have to talk to you.’ He was staring her straight in the eyes, making her feel unbelievably uncomfortable.
‘We've got guests, James,’ Stephanie said, trying to make light of the situation. ‘What will they think if we disappear upstairs?’
James wasn't loosening his grip. ‘This can't wait. I have to talk to you now. Please, Steph.’ His voice sounded strange. Desperate almost.
Stephanie looked round for Natasha. This wasn't part of the plan. She tried to shrug him off but he wasn't having it. Finally she gave in. ‘This had better be good,’ she said, as he led her up the stairs, her hand limp in his.
Once in the bedroom with the door shut firmly behind them, James put his arms round her and drew her to him. Stephanie pulled away, faking a laugh. ‘We can't do this now. We're in the middle of a party. Let's go back down.’
And then James did a strange thing. James burst into tears.
He hadn't been intending to tell her. All week he had been trying to get things straight in his mind, to work out what it was he really wanted. And now he had. He knew, without a doubt, that what he wanted was Stephanie and Finn. That Katie had been a mistake — a year-long mistake. He had risked everything that was important to him because he'd felt resentful that Stephanie had wanted a career, he knew that now. The whole thing had happened because of his insecurity, his jealousy, his… vanity. But he had made a decision. He was going to tell Katie it was over, close down what was left of the business in Lower Shippingham and announce to Stephanie that he missed her and Finn too much, that he'd been selfish, that he'd decided it was worth living full-time in London — a city he hated, although he had told himself he mustn't rub this in — just to be with them. He wouldn't make her feel she had to be grateful or that he was making a massive sacrifice for her. No, that was the old James. This James would work on making his family happy, putting them first and trying to atone for the things he had done. He would bear the guilt on his own rather than burdening Stephanie with it.
But tonight it had all got a bit too much. Seeing all the thought and the love that Stephanie had put into the preparations for the party, watching her and Finn so excited as they tidied and decorated, he had been overwhelmed by a wave of love for the two of them. How could he keep on deceiving them? He tried to stifle the urge to come clean, to confess everything, but it wouldn't go away. He knew it might backfire, but he had to try and make a clean start and the only way that that was possible was to be completely honest.
For the first time in his life he wanted to tell the truth and take the consequences, whatever they were. He tried to stop himself, he knew deep down that it would be suicide, but as he watched Stephanie laughing with his parents, and as he received the pats on the back and hugs of his friends, he knew that he had reached the point of no return. He felt a wave of surreal calm wash over him as he went and took Stephanie by the arm and told her he needed to talk to her. This was it. He was stepping out over the precipice.
‘Steph, I have to tell you something,’ he managed to say through the tears that had started to run down his cheeks. Stephanie stood looking at him blankly.
‘Oh, God, I don't know where to start so I'm just going to say it. I've been seeing someone else.’ He took a deep breath, waiting for a reaction. ‘Actually, it's worse than that. I'm living with her, in Lower Shippingham. And I have been for a year. Just over a year. I'm so sorry, Stephanie. Please say something.’
The way it played out was nothing like either of the versions he had run through in his head. Stephanie neither shouted and screamed and told him she hated him, nor did she throw her arms around him and tell him that everything was going to be OK. This second was the outcome he had allowed himself to fantasize about most in the brief run-up to his confession. Bless me, Stephanie, for I have sinned, and she would absolve him, telling him he was forgiven. Instead, even after he had cried, even after he had told her the whole story, every word of it the truth, she had stood there impassive, not speaking, until he had had to say, ‘Did you hear what I said?’ and, despite the fact that she had nodded, he had found himself telling her all over again.
‘I never meant for it to happen. It had nothing to do with how I felt about you and Finn. And, Steph, you have to believe me when I tell you how bad I feel about it. How I'd do anything to change things, but I can't. But I'm going to end it, I promise you. I'll do anything…’
Eventually he'd run out of steam and had sort of thrown himself at her, needing her to comfort him. Stephanie had patted his back, like she might a dog, and then she'd pushed him away. She'd looked unmoved — completely unmoved. And then she'd said coldly, ‘I knew anyway. I've known for ages.’
Stephanie felt as if the wind had been taken out of her sails. The truth was, she felt sorry for him. He was so pitiful, crying and begging and wanting a reaction from her, wanting to know if it was all going to be all right, but she couldn't bring herself to comfort him. She wondered what had tipped him over the edge, made him risk everything by telling her. She tried to imagine how she might have felt if this really was the first she had heard of it, if this had happened all those weeks ago before she'd found
the text message, but she wasn't that person any more. She briefly considered that maybe he had found out about their plan and that this was a pre-emptive strike, but she knew him well enough to know that what she was seeing was genuine emotion. Something had happened to James to make him want to confess. And although she felt so distant from him, so removed from the histrionics of it all, she could see that this was a big step for him and that it had taken a lot of courage. He looked so desperate, staring intently at her, willing her to say that it was going to be OK, that she had to put him out of his misery. She could hardly tell him the truth, though, that she had been conspiring with his mistress to make his life hell.
‘I'm sorry, James. I think we should separate. I just wanted to wait until after your birthday to tell you… Finn was so excited and —’
She didn't get a chance to finish whatever it was she had been about to say because James let out a howl and grabbed on to her arms, begging to be given another chance. ‘I've changed,’ he was saying. ‘I don't know how I can prove it to you, or make it up to you but I promise I will. Please. Please don't just finish it like this.’
She peeled him off her. ‘I have to. Sorry, James, I really am. I've had a while to think it through, you see, and I know it's best that we separate. There's nothing you can say to change my mind.’
James seemed so confused. It was obvious that of all the possible outcomes he had imagined to his big confession her resigned acceptance had never been one of them.
‘How did you find out?’ he asked eventually.
Stephanie thought about telling him that she and Katie had met, that they spoke on the phone regularly, that his parents’ unscheduled visit had actually been part of their plan. There was some joy to be had, she thought, in watching his face while she revealed to him that the way his life had been crumbling around him recently had been partly her doing. But she found she didn't feel like kicking him when he was so obviously down. ‘I just did,’ she said. ‘You weren't as discreet as you thought you were, obviously.’
‘I'm so sorry,’ he said again. ‘I'm so, so sorry. I'm going to tell Katie it's over tomorrow. And then, please, please, can we talk? Please don't shut me out.’
Oh, shit, Stephanie thought. Katie.
After another ten minutes, in which James continued to cry and to tell her more and more details of his deceptions, as if by burdening her with it he would leave her with no option but to forgive him, Stephanie persuaded him that she had to go downstairs to check on the guests. ‘We can talk later,’ she said as she went. ‘Although, to be honest, I don't think there's much more to talk about.’
James had told her that Katie was planning another party for him the next day — a fact she, of course, knew already. He wasn't intending to go, he said. In fact, he wasn't intending to ever see Katie again.
‘Don't be ridiculous,’ Stephanie found herself saying. ‘You can't just run away from the situation. You've got a business to run up there.’
James had looked at her, confused: he had clearly thought that promising to have no further contact with Katie would have pleased Stephanie. Christ, Stephanie thought, he still thinks it's all going to be OK.
‘Then you come up with me,’ he was saying. ‘That way you'll be able to see I'm telling you the truth when I say it's all over and done with. We can present her with a united front and then we can go to the surgery, clear my stuff out and come straight back down here.’
‘James, if you want to finish things with Katie, then finish things with Katie. But don't do it for me. I've told you it's over, OK?’
There was no way James was going to be able to go down and face their guests, so when Stephanie finally made a break for freedom, she did a quick circuit, telling them he was unwell and having a lie-down. Several people cast suspicious glances at the Japanese chefs and put their plates down nervously, rubbing their stomachs and feeling their foreheads for signs of a temperature. Once she had told enough people for the word to go round, Stephanie took the phone out into the garden, found a quiet spot and called Katie.
‘How's it going?’ Katie squealed.
Stephanie told her the whole story, leaving out some of the more unkind things James had said about her in an effort to please Stephanie.
‘Was he on to us, do you think?’ Katie asked, when she had finished.
‘No. Definitely not, I'd say. That's why it's so weird… it's genuine.’
‘Shit,’ Katie said. ‘I was so looking forward to tomorrow night.’
Stephanie told her of James's plan to travel up early the next day to end the relationship. ‘So, I guess it's all over,’ she said. ‘What will you do? Cancel the party?’
‘No way,’ Katie said, laughing. ‘I'll tell everyone it's to celebrate my freedom.’
‘That doesn't sound like you,’ Stephanie said, thinking of the sweet, rather naïve woman she had first met all those weeks ago.
‘It's the new me,’ Katie said. ‘The new improved no-one-messes-with-me version.’
Stephanie laughed although she wasn't entirely sure that the new Katie could be called an improvement. ‘Let me know how it goes, won't you?’
‘Of course.’
Back among her friends and family, Stephanie wondered whether she should stand up and make a statement: ‘Thank you all for coming. James and I would like to announce our separation. He turned out to be a lying, cheating, two-timing bastard but I'm sure we'd all like to wish him a happy birthday.’ She decided to leave things as they were. Everybody was having a great time and, probably, it was the last time they would all be together. Tomorrow she could start to let the truth slip. Besides, she had to tell Finn first.
35
In the end, Stephanie and James had had to share a bed on the night of the party because Pauline and John were sleeping in the spare room and one of their friends had fallen asleep on the sofa in the living room. James had taken Stephanie's reappearance in the bedroom as a signal that a thaw was approaching, and she had spent much of the night fighting off his tearful advances.
On Sunday morning he made a big show of getting up early and announcing to her that he would be back from Lincolnshire by dinner-time. Stephanie had to sit him down and tell him all over again that there was no hope.
‘If you're coming back down to London tonight, then you'll need to find somewhere to stay,’ she said. ‘I'll start packing up your things.’
At breakfast, Finn was full of the party, and Stephanie had felt a genuine wave of pity for James while he tried manfully to join in the conversation and not give anything away to his son. They had decided that Stephanie would break the news to him once James had gone, because she would be able to do it rationally and calmly. James, on the other hand, was likely to break down.
‘Let me know where you're going to be,’ Stephanie said to him, as he got in the car, wanting to reinforce the idea in his head that he wasn't coming home.
‘Sweetie, I've got something to say to you,’ she said to Finn, as soon as James had left. Might as well get it over with. ‘Me and dad are… Well, we've decided to live in different houses for a bit. It's not because we don't love each other or anything like that, it's just, well, sometimes grown-ups decide to do things like that. It doesn't mean we're not a family any more…’
It sounded like one big cliché to her but Finn seemed to be taking it in. He was looking at her calmly.
‘And it doesn't mean either of us loves you any less either. Oh, and you can see Dad whenever you want. OK?’
‘OK.’
She waited for him to say something else but he had already turned back to his PlayStation. So many of his friends lived with only one parent, she thought sadly, that it probably seemed quite normal to him. Either that, or he was pretending to take it in his stride for her sake. She needed to get some advice on the best way to make sure he didn't bottle up his feelings and end up in a couple of years as a homicidal crack-taking maniac.
Katie had spent most of the night and the best part of the mor
ning trying to decide how to react when James told her it was over. She had thought about packing up all his stuff and leaving it on the doorstep, calling out an emergency locksmith to change the locks and then watching him secretly from an upstairs window. She'd considered cooking him his favourite meal (roast lamb with broccoli, minted peas and roast potatoes), putting on her prettiest dress, making up her face and watching him squirm as he tried to get up the courage to tell her.
She'd even thought of letting out all her pent-up anger and screaming insults at him in a way she'd often fantasized about over the past couple of months. In the end, though, she decided that absolute indifference would unsettle him the most.
So, when he pulled up at about one o'clock — Stephanie had called her at ten this morning to let her know he was on his way already — she was sitting on the sofa reading the Sunday papers, legs curled under her. She had arranged herself in this casual position when she had heard his car turn into the road and she was now doing her best to look as though this was any normal Sunday morning. In fact, she was curious to see whether James had it in him to tell her the whole truth. It was hard to imagine that he would and, to be honest, she would hardly blame him if he couldn't. After all, where would you start? ‘I'm sorry I forgot to mention that I was still living with my wife. Did I tell you I was separated? Really? I don't know what came over me.’
Her heart had clearly not been listening when her brain had been telling it to act as if it didn't care because it was racing now, as James got out of the car. She noticed that, of course, he didn't have any bags with him — he wasn't intending to stay. She forced herself to stare at the page of the supplement she was holding and, with her other hand, she stroked Stanley's ear, willing herself to calm down. James, when he came through the front door, looked as if he had been up crying all night, which, of course, he had, according to Stephanie, who had told Katie she had had to tell him several times to keep it down so as not to wake Finn. His hair was standing up on end and his eyes were wide and haunted. If she hadn't already known exactly what he was about to tell her she would have thought someone had died. He stood in the doorway, clearly waiting for a reaction.