by Alice Castle
Once they were all seated round the table in the staff dining area, Beth realised that, as usual, she’d done the new girls a disservice. They were lovely. Yes, they were chatty and confident, but they both admitted they found the school big and confusing.
‘I get lost every day,’ said Lily. ‘I can’t remember anyone’s names,’ confided Sam. ‘Who are you again?’ she said to Janice, and they all laughed. Chitchat was general for a while – a new branch of Frost, the posh frozen food store, had just opened up in the village, and Janice confessed she’d bought a couple of square foil tins of the chicken chasseur and passed it off as her own at a dinner party at the weekend.
Lily chimed in. ‘I was thinking of doing that, but I need to get in early, before everyone eats their way through the repertoire and recognises all the dishes.’ Everyone nodded solemnly. Even cheating had to be finessed in Dulwich.
‘How’s that, um, research going, Beth? You know, the, erm, new dossier?’ said Janice, raising her eyebrows sky-high at Beth. This, Beth knew full well, meant Tinder. If Beth decided she didn’t want to talk about it, she knew Janice would drop the subject and move seamlessly on. But once she’d taken on a project, Janice would not be able to resist checking up on her progress at regular intervals.
Beth didn’t really want to broach her personal life with these strangers, however nice they seemed. But she sensed that, as thirtysomethings who did not appear to be wearing wedding rings, both Sam and Lily might well be useful sources of information.
‘I’m thinking about starting dating,’ said Beth, her cheeks flaming. ‘It’s been a while…’
‘It’s been forever,’ Janice clarified. Beth gave her a sharp glance, but it was impossible to be cross with Janice, hands crossed over today’s turquoise fluffy bump, seraphic smile on her pretty face.
‘I’ve just done a profile, but I haven’t put it out there yet. I’ve just been having a look…’
‘Ah yes, the candy store,’ said Sam with a giggle.
‘Looks good, doesn’t it? Or some of them do. I’ve been quite lucky, but there’ve been times…’ Lily rolled her eyes.
‘It’s all completely new to me. I’m not really sure it actually works, does it, to find true love?’
‘True love? That might be a tall order. But you can certainly find something to take your mind off the futility of the search,’ Lily laughed.
‘Do you know what happens when you’ve met someone? Can you just take your profile off the system, or does it have to go on being there?’ Beth leaned forward a little. They were getting to the stuff she wanted to know.
‘Oh, you can erase it all. They still send you emails, but you don’t have to be on the app for a minute longer than you want to be.’
‘Mind you, there are people who just stay on there, even when they’ve hooked up.’ Sam made a moue of distaste. Maybe she knew this from personal experience.
‘And then you hear stories, don’t you, about people going back on literally seconds after they’ve split up with someone?’ said Lily.
‘Happened to me,’ said Sam.
‘No!’ the women chorused.
‘Swear to God. I’d just literally told him it wasn’t him, it was me – though it was actually soooo him. I got back home, just started looking through – just to keep my hand in, you know – and there he was, bold as brass. Right back on, same profile as when we’d got together.’
There was a general tutting at the fickleness of mankind. Then Beth piped up. ‘And if it says “active fifteen minutes ago”, what does that actually mean? Have they been on their profile, or have they been on a date, or what?’
‘Oh, it doesn’t tell you when someone’s been out dating, though that would be interesting information to have,’ said Lily. ‘“Active however long ago” just means they were on the app then.’
‘Just looking at profiles? Or messaging, or something?’
‘On the app, for sure. Who knows what they’d be doing there? Why, what’s on your mind?’
‘Oh, just checking something,’ said Beth vaguely. But, beneath her fringe, she was frowning.
***
Later that afternoon, the kids safely delivered to their tutor by Belinda and Ben apparently much the better for his day at school, Beth parked in front of Jen’s door. She still had an hour to go before pick-up, but as usual she’d rather have time in hand and enjoy a cup of tea with a friend than trust the south circular to disgorge her at the right moment if she left later.
She had the wedding present safely in her handbag this time, as she pressed the doorbell, looking up and down the little street as she heard the peal dying away inside the house. People were coming and going as usual, walking up the Grove to Denmark Hill Station or down towards Camberwell Church Street and its innumerable bus stops. The street lights cast a yellow glow and Beth tried to imagine what the road would have been like in its heyday, echoing to the clopping of hooves, gentlemen lifting their hats to ladies swishing by in lampshade skirts.
Moments passed. She looked back at the front door, which remained resolutely closed. That was funny. Where was Jen?
Beth pushed the bell again, a little harder. And waited. Nothing. She waited a little longer, then leant down a little – not too far, thanks to her short stature – and prised open the letterbox, peering in tentatively, feeling like an intruder. She certainly didn’t want to be caught squinting through the flap like a total busybody, but on the other hand, she wanted to know what was going on.
The hall, what she could see of it, was empty, the house quiet as the grave. Adjusting her position, she could see a scattering of junk mail on the doormat, even flopping out onto the original encaustic hall floor tiles which were one of the prettiest features of the little house. To Beth, it looked like more than a day’s worth of pizza delivery leaflets and taxi cards. Maybe Jen hadn’t signed up to one of those sites which promised to remove your name from databases. Or maybe she was just away? A little odd, in the middle of term, and the middle of the week, too, come to that.
Beth racked her brain to see if she could remember Jen’s daughter Jessica being in the playground today or yesterday, morning or evening. But no. As ever, Beth’d been in a mad rush, and recognising and scooping up her own child had been enough of a feat.
She pressed the bell, hard, for a third time, but by now had given up hope of an answer. The house had a deserted feel.
How very strange. Why would Jen have suddenly gone off like that? Unless she was just out shopping or something, and hadn’t cleared the post from the mat?
Then she realised with a sinking heart that she hadn’t confirmed that she’d be over. She’d said last time that she’d love to come, and Jen had seemed fine with that, but they’d not been in touch since. A lot could happen in a week. She’d been so busy and quite anxious today about Ben’s state of health, so just hadn’t got round to sending Jen that line of text that might have made all the difference. Feeling deflated, she turned round and went back to her car, putting the present back on the passenger seat. She weighed up her options.
Unlike Dulwich, Camberwell was not exactly overflowing with tempting coffee emporia to waste a peaceful hour in. Parking on the high street was hard, and not something Beth was even feeling brave enough to attempt. It was one of the capital’s red routes, meaning that all the roads were lined with two parallel scarlet lines, warning cars not to stop on pain of being towed away. There were so-called ‘red boxes’ where you could leave your car for half an hour, but of course these were always full. As a consequence, all the bays off the main drag were usually taken as well.
Her best bet was to leave the car here and wander down to Camberwell proper on foot. There was the Greek bakery on Camberwell Church Street, though anything left at this hour would be well past its prime. Or she could pop into Superdrug, there was always a tempting new shower gel or some toothpaste to pick up there. It wasn’t quite the chat over a cuppa that she’d been looking forward to. But, in some ways, it let her of
f a very large hook indeed. She’d been chewing over what she would or wouldn’t say to Jen about Jeff.
What on earth was the etiquette, if you thought someone’s husband of a couple of months might, just might, be gearing up to cheat on them? Or may have already cheated? Or might just be emailing or texting someone with a view to cheating? Whatever situation she’d accidentally stumbled upon, it was going to be a ticklish one to bring up. But if she didn’t ever mention it, she would feel very guilty if something came out later and Jen realised she’d known all along. Maybe, now she thought about it, that was why she hadn’t got round to asking Jen if she’d be at home today. It was always lovely to see Jen, but it wasn’t so great to deal with a whole bundle of nightmare options brought about by her husband. She tried to shrug it all from her mind, and marched off to the shops.
Three-quarters of an hour later, Beth returned to her car, having found a plethora of bargains in Camberwell. The little shopping centre had all the practical stores which Dulwich sorely lacked. There was a branch of Iceland – the cheap freezer and grocery store that had brand names at rock bottom prices, and was the polar opposite of Frost in Dulwich village. There was a key-cutting place, the Morrisons that she was already becoming fond of, and even a pound shop, which she’d been completely unable to resist. Inside her gaily striped plastic bags, Beth had treasure: what looked like a lifetime’s supply of cotton wool buds; shampoo and conditioner; two giant Toblerones (one of Ben’s favourite treats, since his Uncle Josh often bought them back from the Duty Free shops of the world’s airports); and some fancy rubber gloves which might, just might, make washing-up less of a chore.
She was just opening up the Fiat and slinging her finds inside when, with a jolt, she saw Jen and Jeff coming down the street. Jeff was in front, head down, fumbling for the house keys, moving fast for such a big man. Jen seemed to be trailing behind, listing slightly to the left, due to the large canvas bag slipping off her shoulder. Well, that was a mystery solved. They’d been away, but they were back.
Beth shut the boot and turned to greet them brightly.
‘Hi there! I was wondering where you’d got to, Jen,’ she smiled.
Startled, Jeff gave her a sharp look which turned into a lower wattage version of his usual smile. He opened the door quickly and disappeared inside, raising a hand in greeting and farewell, seeming preoccupied. Beth looked after him, a little surprised. He was normally so friendly.
Jen came up to her and dropped the bag at her feet. ‘Phew, that’s heavy,’ she said, her dead-straight hair pushed behind her ears, make-up free face flushed and shiny in the dwindling light. ‘Sorry, were we meeting? I’d completely forgotten. Um, do you want to…?’ she gestured towards the house.
Was it Beth’s imagination, or was the invitation just a little reluctant? She felt a tiny stab of hurt, but then reasoned that time was ticking on anyway and Jen certainly looked as though she had her hands full. The bag was bulging, no doubt full of washing after their trip, and Jeff didn’t exactly seem to be in an open-house mood. Besides, from the way twilight was suddenly falling, she knew she should be getting a move on to fetch those boys.
‘I never confirmed, did I? I just got caught up in the week, you know how it is. But you’ve been away?’ she said.
‘Just a quick break, a chance to… well, you know…’ Jen tailed off.
Beth wasn’t sure she did know. A chance to do what, exactly? They were fresh from their honeymoon. But maybe that was one of the joys of newly-married life, being able to take off when you wanted to, just enjoy each other’s company. Although, unless her antennae were way off, Jen and Jeff didn’t seem that lovey-dovey. And Jen also had her daughter to think about, though there was no sign at all of little Jessica.
Beth looked towards the front door, ajar, and saw a shadow move restlessly. Jeff was in the dark hall, silent, waiting, just beyond the pool of light from the streetlamps. Jen’s head jerked towards the door. She’d seen him, too.
‘Look, I’d better dash. See you in the playground?’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Beth, relieved they’d somehow got back onto surer ground. ‘Tomorrow?’
‘Well, not tomorrow. My ex still has Jess. But soon. Let’s catch up really soon.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Beth. ‘That’ll be lovely.’ She unlocked the car and slid behind the wheel, as Jen walked up the path. Was she imagining it, or was her friend moving very slowly? The door shut with a soft click and Jen was gone.
As Beth was about to start the car, her glance flicked to the passenger seat. Her handbag had toppled over, and lay half-on, half-off the wedding present, its silvery paper gleaming. Damn. Not again, she thought. For a few moments, she contemplated getting out and ringing the doorbell. There was a lot to be said for just getting rid of the thing. It had been hanging around for far too long. But no. It definitely didn’t seem like the right time, for reasons she couldn’t quite fathom.
Oh well, maybe she’d give it to Jen in the playground? Though it would be nicer to deliver it to Jen and Jeff together. If she handed the gift over in front of the other mummies, Jen might feel constrained to open it there and then, and Beth wasn’t sure that she wanted it seen by all and sundry. It wasn’t expensive, but it was something she was sure would mean a lot to Jen. It was personal. And just a tiny bit quirky. Certainly not the sort of item you’d find on the average wedding list.
Beth made her decision. The present was staying where it was, for now. She moved the car into gear slowly, then signalled to move out, checking up and down the road. It was a shame. But never mind. There was always next week.
***
Jen knew she had a few moments before the explosion. Jeff surely wouldn’t do anything while Beth’s car was still outside, while there was a danger of being seen or heard. She hesitated just inside the front door, her hand on the latch. Should she throw the door open again and run up the path to freedom? She could take this bag with her. It only had enough clothes for a couple of days, and they were already dirty, but Beth would let her wash them, wouldn’t she? And her friend wouldn’t complain about the way she ironed or folded them. She wouldn’t snipe at her cooking, or the way she dressed, her make-up – or lack of it – her hair, her figure. She wouldn’t find endless fault.
How had this happened? She’d asked herself a hundred times. No, a thousand. From the moment she’d met Jeff on Tinder, he’d seemed perfect. She’d been on dates since Tim; she’d had to move on after all the scars he’d inflicted on her psyche with his see-sawing between her and Babs. It had done her ego no good at all, but what had worried her, then and now, was the effect it was having on their daughter. The whole experience had done Jess no good at all. She knew her daughter still dreamed only of her parents getting back together, but that would never happen. Tim had lied too often to be trusted again.
Jeff, though. He’d seemed so truthful, so honest, so open. He’d been hurt, too. His ex sounded a nightmare. She’d been a female Tim, it seemed – constantly flirting with other men, tormenting this kind bear of a man, inflicting terrible pain. And then his wife had gone a step further and left him. He’d been devastated. He was still hurt, and maybe it was too early for him to be dating, he’d admitted to her. But something about Jen had caught his heart.
Everything he’d said echoed her own pain. She felt for him. She’d believed him, and she’d fallen for it. All over again. She couldn’t believe how stupid she’d been. Standing here now, with her hand still on the cold, smooth metal of the latch, she felt every kind of fool. She prided herself on being sensible, practical. And she wanted to show her daughter a good example.
Yet she’d been suckered by Tim, taking him back time after time, despite the broken promises, believing it was important to keep the marriage together if she could.
And now. Could she really face the embarrassment of admitting she’d done it again? That out of all the men in the world, she’d picked another stinker? And what was more, someone worse even than Tim? Someone who
didn’t just chip away at her sense of self with lies and cheating, but someone who… well. Someone with a very dark side.
Look before you leap. Marry in haste, repent at leisure. These phrases repeated in her head relentlessly as she spent her time trying to avoid Jeff, and trying to placate Tim who was jibbing at having Jess so much. But she had to keep her daughter away from this mess. She had made a mistake, and she was paying for it. But there was no reason her daughter should, too.
She could call time on it all right now. She could run and start again. She could bolt and choose freedom. Yes, Dulwich would judge her harshly. Every mother in the playground would be talking about her. They’d think she was a total idiot. It would be hard to hold her head up. But she still had her work, and Jess. She could weather the gossip. Was it the right thing to do, though? Was there no hope of turning things around with Jeff? If she just did things the way he wanted, would he relax, would everything go back to the way it had been at first?
They’d been so in love. He’d been wonderful. She’d felt she’d discovered the other half of herself, at last. He was a patient listener, a caring stepfather, a tender lover. But somehow, somewhere, everything had gone wrong. She wasn’t sure what she’d done, but he’d started to have that look in his eye. Disappointment. Disillusionment. Then he’d made suggestions. If she could just, why didn’t she, he’d told her before, he wouldn’t tell her again…
How had he travelled from love to loathing so fast? She didn’t understand what she’d done wrong or how to get things back on track. She wanted to try, she really did; she wanted her marriage to work, but maybe it never could. His expectations were unrealistic, and she had had enough. Her fingers went to the latch, she shouldered the bag again and turned.