Your Guilty Lies (ARC)

by Ruth Heald

  * * *

  The next morning I feel a desperate need to be close to my babies. The fear from last night hasn’t left me. I change their nappies, feed them and cuddle them. When Frances falls asleep in my arms I wonder if I really could do this all on my own, without Paula.

  But I have to hand them over once more because I’m teaching my first piano lesson today. The flyers that Paula printed out have clearly worked, as I already have five students signed up. I whizz round the house spraying air freshener in the hall and the piano room, to try and disguise the festering smell that rises up through the floorboards. I haven’t had time to do any preparation, aside from getting the piano tuned. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Ian kissing the other woman, replaying it in my mind over and over. As soon as the lesson finishes I’m going to go over to the address I discovered. I dread to think what I’ll find.

  Paula’s agreed to take the twins out. I feel a bit uncomfortable about it because of what happened in the night, but there’s no alternative if I want a silent house while I teach. And I can’t afford to criticise her; I’ll need her to babysit when I go to Ian’s house later too.

  The lesson goes well, and as I watch the ten-year-old boy walk away from the house, chatting excitedly to his father about the piano, I feel a sense of pride. I imagine a new life on my own with the twins, and a career teaching piano.

  * * *

  The address I have for Ian is on the other side of London and I take the train and then the Tube to get there. When I arrive, I’m taken aback. It’s a tiny two-up, two-down mid-terrace. The kind I could only ever dream of affording, but that’s surely far too small for someone like Ian. I check the address. It’s the right house.

  Anger rises in me. I rehearse in my head what I’m going to say to him, how I’m going to tell him exactly what I think of him.

  I take a deep breath and knock on the door.

  I open my mouth as I hear the latch unclicking, ready to say my piece.

  But it’s not Ian behind the door.

  It’s a woman. Ash-blonde hair. Piercing blue eyes. Ian’s age.

  There’s no mistaking her. It’s the woman from the restaurant.

  I take a step back, shocked.

  ‘Hello?’ she says, looking me up and down.

  Without any make-up on, she looks different. Older, more weathered. She has a duster in her hand and behind her the hallway is clutter-free and sparkling clean.

  ‘Hi,’ I splutter.

  ‘What do you want?’ she says impatiently.

  ‘It’s about Ian,’ I say quickly, before she can shut the door in my face.

  ‘Ian?’ Her expression’s unchanged and for a second I worry that I’ve got this completely wrong.

  ‘Is he alright?’ she asks, shattering my illusion.

  ‘Yes, he’s fine. As far as I know.’

  ‘Well, who are you, then?’ She pauses. ‘You’re not another one of his girls?’ She stares at me angrily. ‘He said he’d stop… He promised.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’ His girls? I repeat in my head, stunned.

  ‘Are you having an affair with him?’

  ‘No. I’m not—’ My mind races. ‘We’ve been together a year.’

  ‘A year? He’s been seeing you for a year?’

  ‘Yes,’ I say, shocked. ‘When did your relationship with him start?’ I ask. ‘Was it after we split up?’ The questions burst out of me hopefully, but I have a sinking feeling.

  She laughs. ‘You think a year’s a long time? Well, I’m afraid I trump you. We’ve been married twenty.’

  I swallow, feeling the colour drain from my face. ‘That can’t be right. Ian was with me.’ He’s been married to her throughout our relationship? I feel sick.

  ‘Where did he tell you he lived?’

  ‘I thought he… I mean, he was living with his mother… and then he was living with me,’ I say quietly. But I can see through it all now. He said he was living with his mother so I didn’t ask questions. And I was stupid enough to fall for it.

  ‘Where did you think he was half the time?’ the woman says.

  ‘He said he was working.’

  ‘He told me he was working when he must have been with you. I wanted to believe him. I knew I shouldn’t. You’re one in a long line of girls, you know. Always younger.’

  I feel sick. I’m not even special, just one of many. The reality of my situation hits me. How could I have been so blind? Ian hardly ever stayed over with me. His phone was so often switched off. I never met his friends or family. The signs were there, but I didn’t want to see them. Once I knew I was pregnant and Ian was no longer a casual relationship, I couldn’t afford to question his honesty. I needed him to be reliable. I needed him to be a good father to my children. So I believed what I wanted to believe.

  ‘Do you have children?’ I ask. I can’t bear the thought that I might have been splitting up a family. Alice and Frances might have brothers or sisters. Ian might have done this all before: the pregnancy, looking after our young babies. Perhaps none of those moments were special for him, because he’d been through it all before with someone else.

  ‘No,’ she says quickly. ‘We don’t.’

  I feel a rush of relief, despite everything.

  ‘We have twins together,’ I say, my voice wobbling.

  Her face has turned pale. ‘You have twins? With Ian?’

  ‘Yes. Two girls.’

  ‘How old are they?’

  ‘A month.’

  ‘Oh my god.’ Her hand flies to her mouth. ‘He’s been pretending our marriage is fine, while you’ve been having his babies? We’ve been going to marriage counselling. You were probably giving birth while I was trying to mend my marriage. Was he there? Was he there when you gave birth?’

  ‘No,’ I say. ‘It was when he was working in Thailand.’

  ‘Thailand?’

  And then it hits me. The week Ian was away in Thailand he’d been uncontactable. Surely he wouldn’t lie to me about something as huge as that. He wouldn’t have missed the girls’ births because he was with this woman. Would he?

  ‘Was he with you the first week of August?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes,’ she says.

  ‘And he didn’t go abroad?’

  ‘No.’

  The truth hits me like a ton of bricks. ‘I have to go,’ I say, through tears. When she shuts the door, I collapse on her doorstep and sob.

  14

  We’re in the basement again. We’re locked down here more and more often now. Not just when the man comes round, but other times too. Whenever Dad thinks we’ve been naughty.

  My sister hardly speaks to me anymore. She thinks it’s my fault we’re down here, that me waving to the man started all of this.

  I’ve been trying to cheer her up by thinking of escape plans: climbing up to the tiny window near the ceiling and crawling out, finding a secret tunnel behind some old bricks, breaking down the door. Each idea is more unbelievable than the last, but at least I’m trying.

  ‘Be quiet,’ my sister says suddenly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Listen.’

  And then I hear it. It’s very faint but I hear it.

  The piano.

  It’s the lullaby Mum plays us every night before we go to bed.

  She must be above us. In the music room.

  ‘Do you think she’s playing it for us?’ I ask.

  ‘Maybe. If she knows we’re down here.’

  I frown. She must know we’re down here. But I don’t want to think about that. Why doesn’t she rescue us?

  Instead I close my eyes and listen.

  I imagine we are up there with her, that we’re dancing to the music, our feet light on the floorboards. Unwelcome tears run down my face. I wipe them angrily away with my hand. It’s no time for crying. Crying is for babies.

  My sister’s eyes snap open.

  She stares at me, disgusted. ‘What are you doing?’ she asks.

  ‘What?’ I mutter, co
nfused. I’m not doing anything.

  ‘Stop crying.’ She kicks my leg. It hardly hurts, but it makes me cry harder.

  ‘You’re such a cry-baby.’

  ‘I’m not,’ I say, desperately trying to stem my tears, which only seem to fall faster.

  She kicks me again, harder this time, and then runs away to the other side of the room. She stands with her back to me, her face to the wall. I can see her body shaking, hear her sniffing. She’s crying too.

  Twenty-Nine

  I stumble back to the train station, my mind whirring. I can hardly believe what I’ve just been told. Ian’s married. They’ve been together twenty years. I’m so angry I can’t think straight.

  I ring Ian. He’s been trying to contact me ever since we split up, and he picks up immediately. Unlike when we were together and he was so difficult to get hold of.

  ‘Katie – I’m so glad you’ve finally called me back. I’ve been worried about you. I’ve sorted out the bills now. It was all a big mistake. Somehow my bank card had got cancelled, so none of my direct debits came out. But it’s fixed now. I’m desperate to make it up to you. Can I come over and take you out to dinner?’

  I’m shocked by how easily the excuses tumble out of his mouth, and for a moment I’m speechless.

  ‘What do you think?’ he asks.

  ‘I’ve just met your wife,’ I finally say.

  There’s a silence. ‘Sabrina?’ He misses a single beat and then continues. ‘Oh, god. I can explain everything. I’ve wanted to leave her for years. I don’t love her. We’re married in name only.’ He speaks quickly, as if he doesn’t want to give me any space in the conversation to question him.

  ‘So why didn’t you leave her then?’

  ‘She’s fragile. She has some emotional…difficulties.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’ For the first time I can see clearly. He’ll say whatever’s necessary to convince me that his being married isn’t a big deal.

  ‘She gave you the impression we were still in a physical relationship, didn’t she?’

  ‘She said you were married and living together as a couple.’

  Ian sighs. ‘She’s done this before.’

  ‘Has she now? She’s told your other numerous flings that she’s been married to you for twenty years?’

  ‘Katie, you’re overreacting. And I can understand why. It must have been quite a shock. And Sabrina can be very convincing in her delusions. She’s still in love with me, you see. But we’re not together anymore, no matter what she’d like to believe.’

  ‘She said you went to marriage counselling.’

  ‘We did. I did it for her. And it just confirmed what I already knew. That there wasn’t a future for us.’

  ‘But you’ve been living there.’

  ‘Well, yes, I lived with her before I moved in with you. But only out of convenience. And I had to move in there when you chucked me out. I had nowhere else to go.’

  ‘What about your other properties?’

  ‘They’re all occupied, otherwise I’d have gone to one of those.’

  ‘Business is booming, then?’

  I hear him sigh with relief. He thinks he’s out of the woods. ‘Yes, we’re doing well.’

  ‘What happened to the opportunity in Thailand, Ian? Have you got the contract?’ I give him one last opportunity to redeem himself, to admit the truth.

  ‘It’s looking promising. You wouldn’t believe the hotel, Katie. The plans look amazing.’

  I go in for the kill. ‘I know you weren’t in Thailand, Ian. When our twins were born, you were on the other side of London. With your wife.’

  ‘Katie – I’m sorry – I—’

  ‘It’s over, Ian. Forever.’

  * * *

  As soon as I get on the train, I can’t stop crying. All my dreams of a future with Ian are completely shattered. Our relationship has been a lie from the beginning, our future a fairy tale that would never come true.

  I’m angry. Why didn’t he come clean when I was pregnant? Why didn’t he let me have a fresh start without him? I could have moved on, found my own place, psyched myself up for being a single mother, got support. But instead he pretended he was going to be involved, pretended we were going to have a proper relationship, all the time still seeing his wife. And then he missed the births. If something’s unforgivable, it’s that.

  When I finally arrive home, I hear the sound of piano music as I come through the door, and for a moment I’m transported back to my own childhood. When my mother was around there was always music in the house. Before she hurt her hand, she’d practise at home for concerts, and after her injury she’d play for her own pleasure.

  I go through into the dining room and see Paula sitting on the piano stool, eyes closed, lost in the music. It’s a simple piece but she plays it well. The twins are on their mats across the room, gazing up at her.

  ‘Hi,’ I say.

  She doesn’t pause. I go over and tap her on the shoulder.

  Her fingers clamp down on the keys and she jumps off the stool as if she’s been hit.

  ‘I’m sorry—’ I say quickly.

  ‘Oh, it’s OK. I didn’t realise it was you.’

  I frown. Who did she think it was?

  ‘The girls have been fine,’ she says quickly. Then she looks at me more closely, and strokes my hair off my face. ‘You’ve been crying.’

  I nod. ‘It’s Ian. He’s married.’

  ‘Oh my god. I’m so sorry.’

  Paula puts the girls to bed and then we sit down in the kitchen.

  ‘How did you find out?’ she asks.

  ‘I saw them kissing. Then I found out where Ian lived. I went to see him today. She was there.’

  ‘You didn’t know where he lived?’

  ‘No, he told me he lived with his mother before she was moved into a home, that she had dementia and would have been confused by strangers in the house. Our relationship wasn’t that serious back then. And after I got pregnant, I was just so pleased that Ian was sticking with me and had found us somewhere to live. I didn’t think to question anything.’

  ‘You poor thing. He’s really had you fooled.’

  ‘I know. I can’t believe I didn’t see through him. I’ve been so stupid.’

  ‘It’s not your fault. Ian’s charming. I can see exactly why you trusted him.’

  ‘He didn’t fool you though, did he?’ I remember how suspicious Paula had been of Ian.

  ‘I never liked him. But I’ve had years of experience of nasty men. I knew something about Ian wasn’t right as soon as I met him.’

  ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

  ‘I didn’t know you that well back then. And when Ian didn’t return from Thailand, well, I was hoping he wasn’t coming back at all, to be honest. I didn’t trust him.’

  ‘I found out that he was never in Thailand.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He made it up. He was with his wife.’

  ‘I thought it seemed suspicious. Odd to go so near to your due date. And to take so long to get back.’

  ‘I know. But even if he was with her, surely he would have come back when the twins were born?’ It still doesn’t make any sense, even now. Ian’s admitted to lying about Thailand, admitted he was with his wife. But if he was just on the other side of London, why didn’t he come back when the twins were born? Why did he lie about his phone not working?

  Thirty

  The next day, Melissa’s coming round after a client lunch in the local area. I’ve opened all the windows in the house to try and get rid of the musty smell, but it still persists, lingering in every room.

  Melissa’s late, and I’m beginning to think she’s not coming when she rolls in at seven after Paula’s put the twins to bed. ‘Hello,’ she slurs as she wraps her arms around me. ‘It’s so good to see you. I’ve had such a great day.’

  I smile cautiously. Melissa hasn’t drunk alcohol for years, but she’s clearly the worse for wear today. ‘Com
e in. The twins have just gone to bed.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a shame, I really wanted to see them. But I wanted to see you even more. I’ve brought champagne to celebrate my good news.’

  ‘What good news?’ I ask cautiously, as I take the bottle from her and put it in the fridge. She can’t be pregnant. She wouldn’t have brought the champagne if it was that.

  She follows me into the kitchen and I pour her a glass of water and hand it to her. She gulps it down and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

  ‘I just got a heap of new business from my client. Three million pounds. Can you believe it?’

  ‘Of course I can. You’re brilliant at your job. That’s why they made you a partner.’

  ‘Thanks. At least you’re supportive. Graham never congratulates me when I succeed. I think I’m going to leave him.’

  I take her water glass and top her up. ‘Let’s go into the living room and sit down.’

  ‘Aren’t we going to open the champagne?’

  I frown. Melissa really needs to sober up.

  ‘I’m breastfeeding, so I probably shouldn’t,’ I say.

  But Melissa has opened the fridge and is popping the cork off the bottle.

  ‘Where are your champagne glasses?’

  I sigh. ‘Top right cupboard.’

  She hands a small glass to me and we both go through into the living room.

  ‘You’re moving fast, leaving Graham.’ I’m shocked that she’s seriously thinking of going through with it.

  ‘Yeah, I’ve thought about what you said when we met. You inspired me, chucking Ian out. Well done.’ She raises her glass to clink mine. I feel guilty about suggesting divorce so casually in our last conversation. I never thought she’d do it.

  ‘I’m so glad I split up with Ian.’ I take a deep breath. ‘It turns out he’s married.’

  ‘Married?’ Melissa laughs drunkenly. ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Yeah. Twenty years.’

  ‘What?’ She turns to me, her eyes wide, and drapes her arm around me. ‘I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this. I never would have thought it of Ian. Did you have any idea?’