The Wife's Choice: An emotional and totally unputdownable family drama

by Emma Davies

  ‘No,’ I admit. ‘Because I’m honestly not sure that Hugh would approve.’

  ‘Well, why the hell not? He wants you to be happy, doesn’t he?’

  Her question surprises me. I’ve never actually considered that Hugh gives it any thought.

  ‘Tash, Hugh made me redundant because he thinks I want to be a housewife. He’d see my applying for another job as some sort of… betrayal. You know how old-fashioned he can be.’

  ‘But presumably you’ve told him you don’t want to stay at home?’

  ‘Yes, but he has this curious knack of being so bloody reasonable that I end up thinking my idea was rubbish and agreeing with him.’

  She smiles. ‘Alys, this isn’t about what Hugh wants, it’s about what you want, surely. It’s your life, after all. So, Hugh aside, what’s stopping you?’

  And, of course, I know exactly what’s stopping me. It’s the same thing that’s had me dithering about all morning, even if I don’t want to admit to it. I take a deep breath. Come on, Alys, get it out in the open and then you can stop worrying about it.

  ‘Actually there is something else. Something a bit… unexpected. You see, I had help finding this vacancy, and I’m wondering if this is giving me a prejudiced view of it, making me think of it as overly positive.’ I fiddle with the handle on my mug. ‘There’s no easy way to say this so I’m just going to come out with it… Do you remember when you came for your dress-fitting and I told you about my first husband? I bumped into him the other day, at Scarlett’s party. He’s the husband, well ex-husband, of the woman that Esme is working for.’

  Tash’s eyes are two round saucers. ‘No way!’ she exclaims. ‘Blimey, I bet that was awkward.’

  I grin, nervously. ‘Just a little. He’s changed his name, so I had no idea who he was, but turns out he’s the whole brains behind The Green Room.’

  ‘The mysterious recluse that Hugh’s been so worried about?’

  ‘One and the same.’ I tuck my hair back behind my ears. ‘But there’s something else you should know. The reason why we split up all those years ago is because the man I called Tom was involved in a horrific car accident. He came so close to dying, Tash, it was the worst time of my entire life. He wasn’t expected to walk again and had burns all down one side of his face and neck. I’ll spare you the gory details, but his recovery was slow and painful and, just at the point when I began to hope that things might be okay, he sent me away, refusing to see me. He said that he couldn’t bear for my life to be ruined because of him and so he was setting me free.’

  ‘Oh, but that’s so romantic! Sorry, it is if you think about it. It’s like something from a film.’

  I give her a sideways glance. ‘Maybe, but the reality was more like a horror story. So, anyway, that was it, and Sam, as he is known now, got better. He’s walking now, albeit with a stick, but he met Nancy shortly after we split up and together they set up The Green Room, with him literally hiding in the shadows because of his injuries.’

  I let my words settle in the room for a moment as Tash tries to get to grips with them. But I know she has a good memory, and she’ll realise why I’m so worried any minute now. I see the moment when she does. Her head jerks up and she leans towards me.

  ‘But you said that when you met he and Hugh were friends… Oh, shit…’

  ‘Exactly. You have to promise me that you won’t say anything to Hugh, or anyone else for that matter, not for the moment anyway. Until I can find a way of telling Hugh. I’m pretty certain that Nancy doesn’t know, but imagine how horrendous all this could be for Esme. She’ll never forgive me if this ruins her dream job.’

  ‘But there’s no reason why it should. Is there…? Alys?’

  ‘No,’ I say quickly. ‘Sam and I are ancient history. I can’t pretend it hasn’t been the most enormous shock, but we’re grown adults and this isn’t a fairy tale. We met up yesterday, because as you might imagine there were one or two things we had to say to each other. And for Esme’s sake neither of us wanted things to be awkward.’

  ‘Christ, I bet…’ She slides a hand over my arm. ‘What did you do? Was it okay?’

  I nod. ‘Civilised. Water under the bridge and all that. A line drawn underneath things. And I’m glad actually. Over the years I think I’d built Sam up in my mind… he could well have been the romantic hero from the film you were talking about. You know, because he was my first love and we were destined to be together. I’d got this idealised notion of him in my head, when actually the reality of it is that we’re just two people who used to be together and now we’re not. It’s a bit like the monster under the bed. You always think it’s there and yet in reality it never is.’

  ‘Yes, I get all of that but what I’m not clear about is what this has to do with you applying for a job.’

  ‘Only because it was Sam who sent the details of it to me. Before he knew who I was he’d heard Esme mention that I’d been made redundant, and once he did know he was looking for a way to make contact with me. Not unreasonable to assume I was working in the industry I’d always intended to, and so he found it and sent it on. It was a friendly gesture to break the ice, but now of course he’s got my interest well and truly piqued. Trouble is, I can’t tell whether it’s because I’m just clutching at straws, secretly still paying attention to my inner soppy romantic notions, or relishing the prospect of really pissing Hugh off.’

  ‘Ah,’ replies Tash succinctly. ‘There is that…’ And then she laughs. ‘I just reckon you’re overthinking it, Alys. You’re out of work for probably the first time since you were on maternity leave, bored at home, Esme isn’t so dependent on you, and so for a million and one reasons it’s actually the perfect time to be looking at what you want from your future. Apply for the job, find out about it at least, but only for the reason that it interests you. You don’t even have to tell Hugh how you came across the advert. He’s not to know Sam sent it to you, unless you tell him, and why would you need to do that?’ She tips her head to one side. ‘Are you likely to see Sam again?’ she asks.

  ‘God, no. He’s only up here for a few weeks until the restaurant’s open, then he’s leaving Nancy and her crew to get on with it and heading back to Cornwall where he lives.’

  Tash pushes the laptop back towards me. ‘I rest my case,’ she says. ‘So there’s really no problem. I won’t mention anything to anyone and then you can pick your moment to have a chat to Hugh. Put him in the picture and then there’s no misunderstanding and everything can carry on exactly as it is. The only difference is that now you’ll have an opportunity to pursue something you’ve always longed to do. If nothing else you can enjoy the way that makes you feel.’

  I think about her words, knowing that I’ve been in grave danger of making something very simple become exceedingly difficult. ‘Thanks, Tash, you have a real knack of sorting out my muddle of a brain.’

  She reaches for the biscuit tin. ‘I know,’ she says, eyes twinkling in amusement. ‘And my services are so cheap. All it takes is a few bickies.’ She plucks out a couple more, popping one of them into her mouth virtually whole as she gets to her feet. ‘Right, I must be off.’ She checks her watch again. ‘Thanks for the coffee, Alys. And stop being so damn sensible, you’ve done enough of that over the years. It’s time to follow your heart.’

  I see her to the door, wandering back into the hallway after she’s gone, where I stare at myself in the mirror for quite some time. Tash might be a little heavy-handed at times, known for blundering in where others fear to tread, but she’s nothing if not honest. If she said she loves my hair, then I really do think she means it. And as for looking younger… I narrow my eyes at my reflection.

  I have one foot on the bottom stair tread all set to go and remedy both my hair and my make-up, when I stop. Maybe I’ll ask Esme what she thinks first. I could leave them as they are, just for today. What would it hurt?

  If I was nervous before Hugh arrived home, then his look at my wayward hair as he comes in through the
door is enough to send my spirits crashing through the floor. His reaction is all too predictable.

  ‘Oh dear, have your straighteners broken?’ he asks as he kisses me on the cheek. He puts his briefcase down on the floor.

  ‘No,’ I reply. ‘But Tash popped in this morning between clients. I hadn’t got around to straightening it by the time she came and… Actually, she’d never seen it this way before and said she really liked it. I thought I might leave it for a change.’

  ‘Oh, bless her, she’s such a sweetheart, isn’t she?’

  ‘I don’t think she was being kind, Hugh. I think she really meant it.’

  He studies me. ‘Possibly, but don’t forget that Tash is in her thirties, Alys. She likes… well, the way she dresses for a start – perfectly fine – but a little on the trashy side.’

  ‘I don’t think she dresses trashily,’ I reply, cross that I should need to defend Tash of all people. ‘She has a gorgeous figure, why shouldn’t she show it off a little?’

  Hugh opens his mouth to reply but then closes it again, rethinking what he was going to say. ‘We’re sidetracking somewhat… All I meant is that Tash quite possibly does like your hair and that’s perfectly fine. But she isn’t you. And she doesn’t know what you like, does she? You’re an independent woman, Alys, and you can make up your own mind about things. You don’t need to follow what Tash thinks if you don’t want to.’

  But what if I do want to? I’m not in the slightest bit surprised that these words don’t actually make it out of my mouth. I really don’t need to be getting into a disagreement about this, I have far more contentious subjects to deal with this evening. And so I push my words back into the little corner of my mind, the one which holds all the others I don’t say.

  I hold out my hand for his jacket. ‘Would you like a drink?’ I ask, even though I filled the coffee pot just before he arrived.

  ‘What’s for dinner?’ he asks on cue.

  ‘Salmon,’ I reply.

  ‘And green beans?’

  I nod.

  ‘Then, yes, a coffee would be lovely now, and some wine perhaps with dinner.’

  I busy myself in the kitchen. I know I should have told Hugh yesterday that I’d seen Sam. I thought I might have been able to start one of those ‘guess who I bumped into today’ kind of conversations, but I didn’t. I couldn’t find the words. Or was it that something told me it would be a really bad idea? Now though, too much time has passed. It isn’t the kind of thing you can just drop into conversation and it’s even harder to bring up the subject in such a way as to make it sound innocent – what am I thinking, it is innocent – but I’m going to have to say something soon. A little lie, obviously, but that can’t be helped, and Theo will be dropping Esme home in about an hour. I’d like it out of the way before then.

  I’m telling myself this means that I won’t need to say anything to her either, but what I’m really thinking is that having Esme come home in the middle of a ‘discussion’ might also be the perfect excuse to curtail it. Just as I’m also thinking that whatever I might have said to Tash about Sam isn’t strictly true. We are just two people who used to be a couple and now we’re not, but when we were sitting having a cup of tea together yesterday, that didn’t stop me from feeling more alive than I have in years.

  I pour the coffee and carry it through to where Hugh has settled himself. The shine from the leather on the back of his chair curiously matches the one on the top of his head. I’ve never noticed that before.

  ‘Have you had a good day?’ I ask, handing him his drink.

  ‘Routine,’ he replies. ‘Did you pick up my suit from the dry cleaners?’

  I stare at him in horror. ‘Damn, I knew there was something I’d forgotten!’ I roll my eyes. ‘Sorry, I’ll do it tomorrow. It’s not really surprising though, given the shock I had this morning. I nearly rang you in fact, but then I thought you’d probably be busy and the last thing you’d need is me blabbering on.’

  Hugh fixes me with a direct look. ‘What happened, Alys?’

  ‘God, it was so embarrassing. I nearly had the fright of my life and poor Nancy…’

  I cross to the other chair and perch on the edge. I can’t do this when I’m towering over Hugh. Besides, I need something solid beneath me.

  ‘I dropped Esme off today as usual and then remembered we were almost out of milk. So I popped to that little shop just up past the restaurant. I was only in there a minute, and was coming out when I met Nancy coming in, holding the door open for a man walking with a stick. I said hello to her, obviously, smiling at the other person… and Christ, Hugh, it was Tom.’

  ‘Tom?’

  ‘Yes, Tom… from before, my…’ I’m really not sure how to put this. But Hugh doesn’t need any more information.

  ‘Tom Walker?’ He puts his drink down on the coaster that sits on the small table beside him, a very measured, precise movement. ‘Tom Walker, as in the cowardly bastard who dumped you the minute the going got tough.’

  I baulk at his words. Whatever Tom did, that’s hardly a fair explanation of what happened. But I nod.

  ‘And did he recognise you?’

  Another nod. ‘And poor Nancy just stood there the whole time we were speaking, doing this double-take thing, backward and forward between the two of us, looking more and more confused. God, I wanted the ground to swallow me up. It was bad enough seeing him but then Nancy introduced us and…’

  I lay a palm against each cheek. ‘I thought to start with that he must simply be someone she knew in the restaurant business maybe. But he isn’t, she introduced him as her ex-husband. God, this is so weird… He isn’t called Tom any more, Hugh, he’s changed his name and calls himself Sam now.’

  Hugh’s mouth drops open slightly as he stares at the wall behind me. ‘Wait a minute. Let me get this straight… So what you’re telling me is that Tom Walker is actually the mysterious co-founder of The Green Room?’

  I want to laugh. ‘Ridiculous, isn’t it? I mean, why would he need to change his name?’

  ‘I have no idea. Except that no normal person would, that I do know.’

  ‘And to think he’s been living in London, running an enormously successful restaurant, when he could have been dead for all we knew. I still can’t believe it. The only thing I can think of is that it had something to do with the accident. He was walking, with a stick admittedly, but…’ I falter, meeting Hugh’s eyes. ‘He was horribly scarred… all down one side of his face and neck. Do you think that was why?’

  Hugh considers my words. ‘Almost certainly,’ he replies. ‘The accident became the root of everything that man did, the way he behaved.’ He softens his expression a little but even so he doesn’t quite manage to take away the cold light from his eyes. ‘I’m not saying it wasn’t a terrible thing to happen, we both know it was. It was horrific and must have been terribly hard to bear but, I’m sorry, you know how I feel. Tom used what happened to him as an excuse to treat you appallingly and it sounds to me as if his whole life has been an attempt to run away from his situation instead of facing up to it. Changing your name doesn’t make you into a different person. Or a better one.’

  He’s looking for me to agree with him and I manage a small nod.

  ‘And I sincerely hope he doesn’t think he can come sniffing back around you. He caused you enough trouble the first time around.’ A look of pain crosses his face. ‘I dread to think what would have happened to you if I hadn’t come along to take care of you. Nor can I believe how much it still hurts me knowing that you met because of me. If only I’d kept my mouth shut then…’ Another thought dawns and he shudders. ‘Except Esme… Now he’s her boss, for goodness’ sake.’

  ‘No,’ I say quickly. ‘No, he’s not. He’s simply Nancy’s husband. Ex-husband,’ I add, reminding myself. ‘Sam will have nothing to do with this new restaurant, it’s very much Nancy’s baby; she told me that herself, remember? He’ll be here for a couple of weeks to support her with a few things for the o
pening and then he’ll be going back to wherever it is he came from. There’s no reason to think that any of us need ever see him again.’

  Hugh is searching my face for any clue that I’m not telling the truth. ‘So, if that’s the case then I think we should keep Sam’s real identity from Esme, don’t you? As far as she’s aware he’s Theo’s dad, Nancy’s husband, and that’s the end of it. I don’t like the thought of lying to her, although it isn’t really lying as such, but I can’t see why she would need to know that you and he were… Well, you know…’

  ‘But what if Nancy…?’

  ‘Then put her in the picture,’ he replies. ‘But only her. She’s supposedly an intelligent woman, I’m sure she’ll understand perfectly.’

  It isn’t until later when we’ve been in bed at least ten minutes that Hugh’s voice murmurs against my shoulder. ‘You weren’t thinking about going to see Sam at all, we’re you?’ he asks.

  The room is dark, not totally, but enough that Hugh won’t be aware that my eyes are still staring out into the night.

  ‘Of course not,’ I reply. ‘Why would I want to see Sam?’ I let out my breath tiny bit by tiny bit.

  ‘Good,’ says Hugh. ‘Because you know I’d never let anything hurt you.’

  His tone is light, his voice casual. And the arm that lies across my shoulder feels like it’s pinning me to the bed.

  12

  ‘Mum, come on, you know I want to get there early today.’

  We’re running late the next morning and it’s making me clumsy. I never have any trouble pinning up my hair but today I’m all fingers and thumbs. Or perhaps it’s not the fact that we’re rushing that’s making me nervous.