The First Mistake

by Sandie Jones

  ‘Are you kidding me?’ asks Alice incredulously. ‘They’re eight years old for Christ’s sake.’

  Miss Watts looks down at the floor, as if she suddenly wishes she was anywhere but here.

  ‘Who’s the child?’ asks Alice again.

  ‘I’m afraid I really can’t say.’

  If she knew it wouldn’t reflect badly on Olivia, she’d drag Miss Watts across the classroom by her cheap lapels until she told her.

  ‘Well, then I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself,’ Alice snaps as she storms off.

  37

  ‘Shit, shit, shit!’ says Alice as she slams the steering wheel.

  ‘Why are you saying the s word Mummy?’ asks Olivia, wide-eyed.

  ‘Because Mummy is pissed off,’ says Alice. ‘If one more person thinks I’m going to take their shit, then they’ve got another think coming.’ She looks in her rear-view mirror to see Sophia turning to her little sister and putting a finger to her lips, in an effort to stop her from saying anything more. Alice smiles, but it’s a painful facade. If only the world consisted of just the three of them – then she’d be happy.

  She’s halfway home when she decides to call Nathan.

  ‘Shit,’ she says again when there’s no answer. She does a U-turn in the middle of the road. ‘I’m just going to pop to the office.’

  Sophia groans, whilst Olivia whoops. ‘I hope Lottie’s there. She always plays with me.’

  As Alice pulls into the small car park behind the office building, she calls Nathan again. When he doesn’t pick up, she can only assume he’s somewhere he shouldn’t be. From now on, he’ll always be somewhere he shouldn’t be, at least in her head.

  ‘Sophia, are you coming up?’ asks Alice.

  ‘No, I’ll wait here. Try not to be too long.’

  I’ll be as long as it takes, thinks Alice as she takes the stairs two at a time, with Olivia trailing behind her.

  ‘Hey, you’re back,’ says Lottie excitedly, sounding much like Olivia when she saw Alice. ‘How’s it going Livs?’ she asks, holding a hand out for Olivia to high five.

  ‘Hi Lottie,’ says Alice, as cheerily as she can manage. She looks her up and down, taking in her lean, long legs, encased in tight black trousers. Her hair is pinned up with what looks like a pencil securing it, blonde strands fall down, framing her elfin face.

  ‘Can you just do me a favour and keep Livvy occupied whilst I have five minutes in my office?’ asks Alice.

  ‘Sure. Do you want to come and help me do some colouring in?’ she asks Olivia.

  For the first time since seeing the text to Nathan, Alice is able to sit down and work out who it might be from. Her stomach knots as she recalls it from the camera roll on her phone. As ludicrous as it sounds, she wonders if it’s changed since she took the screenshot. Might there be more words, to give her more of a clue as to who it’s from? She hopes there are less; that the incriminating sentence, so short, yet so hurtful, has been magicked away into cyberspace.

  Disappointingly, what she finds is what she remembers.

  I need you. Now xx

  She types the number it was sent from into her phone and holds her breath whilst she waits the split second to see if it matches any of her contacts. If it does she doesn’t know how she’d ever recover from the deceit. But if it doesn’t, she’s no further forward to finding out who it is. She counters that the latter is the best option – just.

  When nothing shows up, Alice sets about methodically working through her contact list to see if it might jog a memory or a feeling. Though it quickly becomes apparent that ninety per cent of the people she knows are ruled out on the grounds of gender, age or sexual preference. The only real possibility is Lottie. The number definitely isn’t hers, or at least not the one Alice has. She could have a second phone, but as Alice looks out through the glass wall at her and Olivia, their heads together as they pick colours from the marker box, she knows it can’t be her. She’s attractive, but childlike. Assured, but awkward. And besides, what would she find appealing about going to bed with a man old enough to be her father? And her boss, to boot.

  Nevertheless, she calls Lottie’s number, just to be sure she has the right one stored, and watches, waiting for her to pick it up. Alice can see the phone sitting on the desk, but Lottie shows no signs of going to it.

  ‘Lottie,’ she calls out, ‘have you got a minute?’

  Lottie drops what she’s doing and scurries into Alice’s office.

  ‘I had trouble calling you whilst I was in Japan,’ Alice says to her. ‘Your mobile just kept ringing and ringing.’

  ‘Ah, yes, sorry,’ says Lottie. ‘Mine got stolen, so I had to get a new one.’

  Alice bats away the heat that’s creeping up from her toes. ‘Oh,’ she manages, momentarily stuck for anything better.

  ‘I did let Nathan know though,’ says Lottie. ‘I sent him my new number, just in case either of you needed to get hold of me.’

  ‘Did you?’ says Alice numbly, as all the reasons she’d had for ruling against Lottie being Nathan’s mistress, suddenly become arguments for.

  ‘I’ll send it to you now,’ says Lottie, unaware that Alice can’t begin to function until she gets it.

  Alice’s phone pings and the numbers blur, but she can already tell that it’s not a match. She lets out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding in.

  ‘So, how did it go in Japan?’ asks Lottie, oblivious to Alice’s need for privacy.

  Alice smiles tightly and nods. ‘It was good – we complete next week.’

  Lottie dances up and down on the spot, clapping her hands together.

  ‘Oh my God, how exciting,’ she says.

  Alice wonders if they really will complete next week when there’s such a huge obstacle in between now and then. But then the pilot’s surprise, her mother’s words, and Lottie’s excitement ring loudly in her ears. And she wonders why the hell she shouldn’t. With or without Nathan.

  ‘Have you seen him today?’ asks Alice, as if Lottie is privy to the innermost workings of her mind.

  ‘Who?’ she asks.

  ‘Oh, sorry, Nathan. Have you seen Nathan?’

  ‘No. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to see either of you after a ten-hour flight. I thought you’d both go straight home.’

  ‘Has he called in?’ asks Alice.

  ‘Hold on,’ Lottie says, poking her head around the door. ‘Has anyone spoken to Nathan this afternoon?’ she calls out across the open-plan office. It’s an innocent enough question, and one which just a week ago would have been quite normal. But now it feels accusatory, as if she’s tracking him. Lottie’s question is met with shaking heads and nonplussed expressions.

  Alice tries to call Nathan one more time, but it goes straight to his answerphone. Her fingers tap thoughtfully on her phone case. Where are you, Nathan? she says to herself. She looks out the window, to the car park below, and can just about make out Sophia’s fast-moving digits operating the phone in her lap as she sits in Alice’s car, waiting.

  ‘I’ll be back in one minute,’ she says to no one in particular. She runs down the stairs, back to her car, and knocks on Sophia’s window, making her daughter jump.

  ‘Roll the window down,’ mouths Alice impatiently, as she watches her daughter roll her eyes.

  ‘What?’ says Sophia gruffly.

  Alice doesn’t have time to deal with her daughter’s bad mood, caused, no doubt, by something she’s seen on social media.

  ‘Can you get that Chatsnap thing of yours up?’ she asks her.

  ‘Yeah, why?’ asks Sophia, her tone loaded with suspicion.

  ‘Because I could really do with finding Nathan,’ says Alice, stopping herself short from saying anything more. Sometimes the more words you use, the more mistrust you create.

  Sophia looks at her through narrowed eyes. ‘What for?’

  ‘Can you do it or not?’ asks Alice impatiently.

  ‘Jeez, chill your beans,’ says So
phia as she swipes her thumb and moves her fingers at lightning speed.

  ‘Watch who you’re talking to,’ warns Alice. ‘I’m not one of your mates.’

  ‘It looks like he’s somewhere on Park Lane in London,’ she says hesitantly. ‘The Hilton.’

  Alice wants to ask if he’s in bed with someone. After all, this app seems to be able to show a myriad of other activities. ‘Thank you,’ is all she says. ‘I’ll see if I can reach him there.’

  ‘Mum, is everything okay?’ Sophia asks, with more than a hint of worry in her tone.

  Alice forces a smile. ‘Of course, why wouldn’t it be?’

  ‘Do you promise?’ asks Sophia, her sassy attitude suddenly replaced by the vulnerability of someone half her age.

  It takes all of Alice’s resolve not to pull her daughter to her and hold her tight. Instead she crosses her fingers behind her back and hopes her smile reaches her eyes.

  ‘Yes darling, I promise.’

  38

  ‘Just tell me the truth,’ Alice demands loudly after dinner has been cleared away, her patience spent.

  ‘I promise, Mummy, I haven’t done anything,’ cries Olivia.

  ‘So why are another little girl and her parents saying that you did? You cannot go around hurting people Olivia, with words or actions. I will not stand for it.’

  ‘But I’m not, Mummy! Phoebe is mean to me.’

  ‘We’re not talking about Phoebe,’ says Alice. ‘We’re talking about another girl who thinks you’re being mean to her. Honestly, Olivia, I will not be called in by the school to be told that you’re a bully.’

  ‘I’m not a bully,’ she screams, before running up the stairs and slamming her bedroom door.

  ‘Right, that’s it young lady. You stay in there until the morning and by then you’d better be ready to tell me the truth.’

  Alice feels riddled with guilt as she takes Olivia a glass of water half an hour later, only to find her daughter fast asleep yet still fully dressed. Tiny whimpers emanate from her chest as Alice changes her into her pyjamas.

  This is not the kind of mother I am, Alice tells herself as she sits on the edge of her bed with her head in her hands. She’d do anything to crawl under the duvet and shut everything out – wait for the storm that she knows is brewing to pass. But she has to be stronger than that. She will not be defined by her weaknesses again.

  Her phone pierces the uncharacteristic quiet in the house and she wearily reaches across the bed for her handbag. Maybe she will lie down, for just a few minutes.

  ‘Hi darling, it’s me,’ says Nathan when she picks up. She can already tell from those four words that he’s had a drink. ‘You’re not going to believe it, but I’ve bumped into Josh, an old pal of mine,’ he slurs. ‘You remember him, don’t you? I introduced you to him once.’

  Alice couldn’t ever recall meeting Josh. She’d remember if she had because the people Nathan had introduced her to over the years were few and far between. He’d said that losing his parents when he was young had made it difficult for him to form friendships. Certainly the ones he had now were all part of their wider circle of couples, even his golf buddies were husbands of friends Alice had acquainted him with.

  There had been many a time when she’d wished Nathan had more of a backstory. That he’d brought an extended family into her life, as Lord knows her own was small enough. It would have been nice to feel part of a bigger picture; to have family to call on and spend time with. But he’d pretty much turned up, seemingly out of nowhere, and it’s only now that she wonders if her perceived saviour was actually a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Had she been so damaged that she had been prepared to overlook issues that would otherwise have been glaringly obvious? Had she been so insecure that she’d ignored any niggling doubts?

  ‘Isn’t he your old school friend?’ she asks now, helping Nathan out, because she doesn’t have the energy to listen to him embellish his lie.

  ‘Yeah, that’s the one,’ he says, falling straight into her trap. ‘God, you’ve got a good memory. Anyway, I had a bit of an impromptu meeting at the bank and then I bumped into Joe and one thing has led to another.’

  ‘Josh . . .’ Alice corrects him. ‘I thought you said his name was Josh.’

  ‘What . . .? Yes, Josh – that’s what I said.’

  He’s too drunk to get his story straight, and Alice is too tired to care. It’s not as if she needs any more proof that he’s up to no good – she’s got all that she needs. Now, she only has to decide what she’s going to do about it.

  She wants to wait up for Nathan to come home, if for no other reason than she’ll be able to smell the cheap perfume on him, or see if his mouth is stained with someone else’s lipstick. It’s almost as if she needs to hurt as much as she possibly can in order to force herself to make the right decision. But try as she might, the argument with Olivia has left her exhausted and her eyes are battling to stay open as the bongs ring out for the ten o’clock news.

  She can’t even remember taking her tablets, but she must have done, as the next time she opens her eyes it’s morning and she’s none the wiser as to whether Nathan came home at ten thirty or three thirty. It occurs to her as she reaches an arm across the empty bed that he still might not be home. She squints at the green digits reading 06.20 on the illuminated clock on the bedside table and lifts her head off the pillow. She can hear the shower running and is furious with herself for not knowing whether it’s Nathan coming in or going out.

  She wants to go back to sleep so she can turn off the noise in her head that the new day brings. But try as she might, her senses are already alert to the problems that lie before her. Defeated, Alice throws the duvet off in frustration. There’s too much to think about now – her brain a whir of activity. There’s no point in lying in bed any longer.

  The steam billows out of the bathroom as she opens the door. Nathan, naked and wet from the shower, turns towards the draught.

  ‘Morning darling,’ he says as he rubs a towel two-handed across his back.

  ‘How was your evening?’ she asks tightly as she stands in front of the mirror, putting her hair up.

  ‘Long and boring,’ he says, with a laugh. ‘It seemed like fun at the time, but now, in the cold light of day, when I’m tired and hungover, my memories are quite different.’

  I bet they are, Alice thinks to herself.

  ‘How was yours?’ he asks as he comes up behind her, his hands reaching around to untie the belt on her robe. She pulls it tighter around her.

  ‘Come on,’ he pleads. ‘We’ve got time for a quick one.’

  There’s no part of her that wants to have a ‘quick one’, especially when she doesn’t know where he’s been. And until she does, there won’t be any quick ones, slow ones or any other ones.

  ‘I need to get ready,’ she says, shutting him down. ‘I’ve got a busy day.’

  ‘We’ve both got a busy day,’ he says sulkily, as if it’s a competition. ‘I might need you to sign some papers for Japan.’

  She manages a nod as he kisses her.

  ‘I’ll see you in the office,’ he says as he walks out.

  She takes her time in the shower as a showreel of where Nathan might have been last night plays out in her head. The images are vivid – in high-definition and with surround sound. She sees his lips on somebody else’s, his hands tenderly holding her face as he professes his love. The unidentified woman calls his name out as his hands move lower, but Alice blocks out that image, preferring to focus on forming the woman’s face, as if doing so will provide irrefutable evidence of the encounter.

  The tips of her fingers are beginning to wrinkle and her hair is squeaking as she plans the day ahead, skipping over the parts that she doesn’t want to acknowledge. I’ll blow-dry my hair; it’ll make me feel better. I’ll drive Olivia to school and try to find out who my daughter is bullying. I’ll work on the drawing room of Belmont House; I’m thinking the maroon crushed velvet with a gold accent. I’ll find out who my
husband is sleeping with. I’ll make a nice paella for dinner tonight; I wonder if there are any king prawns in the freezer.

  She works her way through the first items methodically, her day in the office going exactly according to plan until her self-imposed drawn-out lunch can’t be protracted any further. She knows the next item on her list requires attention and purposefully looks at the over-eaten core of her apple to see if just another second can be gleaned from nibbling at the remains.

  She peers over the top of her computer screen, through the glass into the space beyond. She can just make out the top of Nathan’s head, sat at the desk in his office on the other side.

  With her eyes flicking from him to the screen between them, she enters his personal email address on the log-in screen before confidently typing his password.

  INCORRECT PASSWORD ENTERED

  Her brow furrows. I must have hit a wrong key, she tells herself, already knowing she hasn’t. She types it in again, more slowly, more precisely.

  Incorrect again. Alice feels as if she’s trying to hack Google.

  She tries their other favoured keywords; insecure variations on birthdays and the girls’ names they’d made up together for online shopping accounts, when neither of them could imagine the other needing to spy on them. Nothing will open sesame.

  Nathan is up out of his chair and heading in her direction, but she’s too busy trying to crack the password to notice.

  ‘Hey,’ he says, as he swings open the glass door.

  Her ears instantly go hot, and his words are momentarily muffled. She tries to change screens as quickly, yet as casually, as she can manage.

  ‘Hi,’ she says, finding her voice.

  ‘I’m just popping to the bank to make sure everything’s finalized, ready for Monday.’

  She looks at him. ‘Oh, I thought you did that yesterday?’ It’s a question she expects him to answer.

  ‘Er, yeah, I did.’

  ‘So, what do you need to go again for?’

  ‘Erm . . . they need your passport,’ he says, though Alice may be imagining the hesitation.