‘There you are!’ Vic emerged from the living room and closed the door, his smile of welcome fading to concern. ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’
‘Oh, nothing.’ My voice sounded strained, as though I’d been shouting. ‘I felt a bit faint, that’s all.’
I wanted to tell him the truth. After Matt, I hadn’t wanted a relationship with areas ‘not discussed’, but Vic had gone to a lot of trouble to make today special and I didn’t want to spoil it.
He glanced at the door behind him before coming over, probably wondering how much time he could spare. He looked typically stylish in well-fitting chinos with an open-necked shirt and his favourite loafers; his intelligent, olive-skinned face framed by a close-cut beard. It was flecked with grey and matched his short, black hair. My brother had declared Vic out of my league when they met, because of his polished accent, and the fact he’d been to Oxford University and worked as an eye doctor. Although Jamie had a habit of putting me down, I’d secretly agreed with him. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ he said.
‘Honestly, I’m fine,’ I lied, hanging my bag over the post at the foot of the stairs. I tried to smile and make it true, but my mouth wouldn’t make the right shape.
‘Beth, you don’t look good.’ He cradled my face in his palms, his brow creased in an unfamiliar frown as he scanned my face. He was so close I could see gold-specks in his brown eyes, reminding me of the way he’d studied me when I pitched up in his consulting room six months ago, referred by my doctor to determine the cause of my headaches and blurred vision.
‘Have you been under any more pressure than usual?’ he’d asked, after a battery of tests had failed to reveal a physical cause. ‘You’d be surprised how often stress can manifest itself in the sort of symptoms you’ve been having.’
Undone by his genuine interest, I’d burst into tears and blurted out my life story, ending with my marriage break-up the year before when I’d told my husband he’d be better off with someone else. ‘I think, deep down, I didn’t expect him to agree with me, and definitely not to move out,’ I’d said, between sobs. ‘He loves his daughter so much I knew he’d miss her badly. He must have been looking for a way out for a while and I gave him one.’
‘Why do you think he’d been looking for a way out?’ Vic had gently tugged a tissue from a box on his desk and handed it to me.
‘Because I couldn’t let go of the past.’ I’d scrubbed at my face with the tissue, aware I looked a state. ‘I’d been fine for a long time, but after Hayley was born it all came back. I kept going over what had happened and wondering about different outcomes, feeling guilty all over again. It drove Matt mad, he just wanted me to be happy, especially as we had a daughter to think of now, but it wasn’t that simple for me.’ I shook my head. ‘I realised later that hormones had probably played a part, but I was a mess. I started seeing a counsellor again, but Matt thought she was keeping me stuck in the past, going over and over it all, so I stopped, but then I resented him, so we were both on edge, not being natural with each other and treading on eggshells. I knew the atmosphere couldn’t be good for Hayley, so I suggested he move out, and he said he agreed and …’ a fresh bout of weeping had broken out. ‘He went and didn’t come back, except to see Hayley.’
‘And the headaches and vision problems started around that time?’
‘Not really, that’s why I didn’t make a connection,’ I said. ‘I sort of went into overdrive once he left, trying to make everything as settled for Hayley as possible, so her life wasn’t too disrupted, especially as she missed her dad. It was hard for him too, not being able to see her every day, but he went to stay in France for a couple of months – his parents live there – and it was actually easier, but he’s been back a while now and although we’re civil with each other … I don’t know, it’s not how I’d imagined things turning out, I suppose. We didn’t have a big wedding, just family and friends, but I thought we’d be married forever and give Hayley the sort of upbringing he’d had – he has a lovely, big family – and like I had before … before everything changed.’
Vic had been calm and accepting, as if it was normal for patients to break down and empty their hearts, crying until their eyes were swollen shut. Maybe it was, I’d thought afterwards, mortified by my emotional outpouring. He’d had the sort of aura that invited confidences, and it was easy to imagine patients opening up to him.
Even so, I’d been surprised when he called a week later, asking whether I’d like to meet for a coffee. Not for dinner, or a drink, which I probably wouldn’t have said yes to, being far from ready to start dating. It wasn’t even on my radar, but somehow coffee had turned into dinner and a drink, and maybe because he knew the worst and hadn’t judged me, I’d been able to relax in his company in a way I wouldn’t have believed possible.
It was no coincidence that my headaches retreated around the same time, and even though levels of civility had dipped when Matt found out about us, they hadn’t returned, and nor had the blurry vision. Being with Vic had made me realise that Matt had been part of the problem. He’d wanted me to change, but Vic accepted me the way I was.
I reached up now and covered his hands with mine. ‘Honestly,’ I said, managing to produce a smile. ‘I just got a bit overheated on the train.’
‘There’s nothing else?’ As his gaze probed mine, my resolve weakened.
‘It’s just … I had a couple of weird texts.’
He frowned. ‘Weird?’
‘I’m probably making too much of it, but …’ I pulled away, annoyed with myself. It was too late to take it back. ‘It felt like someone knew what had happened, you know. When I was a child.’
His gaze didn’t waver but his posture stiffened. ‘What did they say?’
‘They were kind of … threatening.’ Without warning, my mind rolled back to surging waves, burning lungs and thrashing arms. Cold seeping into my bones.
‘Look, if you’re worried, you should talk to Rosa.’
‘Is she here?’
He nodded. ‘She switched shifts, specially.’
‘Jamie won’t like it.’
‘She’s a police officer. Surely he’d expect you to talk to her.’
He didn’t know my brother as well as I did. ‘She’ll want to know what it’s about.’
Vic’s eyebrows rose. ‘You think Jamie hasn’t told her the story?’
‘I’m sure he has.’ As I dug in my bag for my phone to show him the texts, there was a rush of air behind us.
‘Mummy, what are you doing? I’m waiting and waiting and you didn’t come and I want to have cake and you’ve got to blow out your candles.’
‘I’m here, sweetheart.’ Dropping my bag, I fell to my knees to catch my daughter, burying my face in her silky hair as my arms closed around her. ‘I was just talking to Vic,’ I said, marvelling anew, as she wriggled free, that this soft bundle of energy was mine, dressed in her favourite sparkly princess dress, her bare feet dusty from playing in the garden. ‘You were very quiet.’ Smiling, I brushed a sweep of fair hair from her heart-shaped face, my heart lifting at the sight of the bright blue eyes she’d inherited from Matt – like fragments of summer sky. ‘Were you hiding?’
When she nodded solemnly, my heart swelled further at the obvious effort she was making not to give away the surprise. ‘It’s because of your birthday, Mummy.’ She tilted her head. ‘I’ve been helping.’
‘She certainly has.’ Vic’s voice was gentle as he briefly rested his palm on the top of her head. ‘She’s been such a good girl.’
He was so natural with Hayley – despite the fact that he didn’t want children of his own – but sometimes, when he spoke like that, I felt a pang that it wasn’t Matt, which added another layer of guilt to my already towering pile. While Hayley didn’t love Vic in the same, heartfelt way she did her father, she liked him a lot, and we were hoping to broach the subject of us all living together soon.
‘Come on!’ Growing impatient, she tugged my hand and I rose, throwing Vic an apologetic smile.
His shrug conveyed all the things he couldn’t say in front of her – that we’d talk about the texts later, that he had my back … that he loved me.
Why couldn’t Matt have been like that?
Banishing the thought, I let Hayley pull me towards the living room as Vic spoke in a stagey voice intended for our guests.
‘I was telling Mummy she doesn’t have time for a shower after her shopping trip.’
‘No, you don’t, Mummy, that’s silly.’
‘Well, I hope I don’t smell bad.’
I also hoped no one would think to ask what I’d bought. Instead of shopping – not my favourite pursuit – I’d spent most of my day wandering around the Tate, and taking photos of buildings for an art-therapy project.
Vic thrust open the door with a theatrical ‘Ta-da!’ and the tension in the room gave way to a chorus of ‘Surprise!’ and ‘Happy birthday!’ and a shout of ‘About time!’ from my brother. In the end, it wasn’t too hard to look surprised, though I exaggerated for Hayley’s sake, scooping her up and swinging her round as everyone laughed and applauded.
‘I can’t believe you didn’t say anything!’
‘It was a secret,’ she said, flushed with pleasure, before breaking away and darting across to a small heap of presents on a side table as people gathered round me, laughing and wishing me well. For the next few minutes, I let myself be swept along on a tide of goodwill, happy that Vic had managed to pull this off – with my help.
‘None of my clients,’ I’d said, when he asked who I’d want to be there. ‘No extended family either.’ Mum and Dad had big families scattered around the country. ‘And definitely not Grandpa Buckley. He’s stopped wearing his false teeth and Mum says he’s started telling racist jokes.’
In the end, we’d settled on my immediate family – Vic only had one older sister, who lived in Canada – a couple of friends and colleagues, Lewis and Jude from across the road with their son Rory, who was Hayley’s age, and Pam from next door. She’d been a big support after Matt left and sometimes looked after Hayley, who adored her, partly because she had a chocolate-brown Labradoodle called Baxter. My daughter craved a puppy more than anything else.
Pam was there in a flower-print dress, her short white hair neatly brushed, smiling a little self-consciously. I managed a wave before Mum grabbed me in a crushing embrace.
‘I thought you’d got lost,’ she said, as I breathed in a waft of the Gucci perfume Dad bought her every Christmas. ‘Happy birthday, sweetheart. I bought you that jacket you said you liked, but if it doesn’t fit, I’ve got the receipt.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’
‘Everything OK?’ Her voice dipped into anxiety, always attuned to my mood.
‘Fine,’ I said automatically, stretching my smile as she scoured my face with her pale blue, searchlight eyes. ‘Just hot, that’s all.’ I wondered whether she’d still be this overprotective when I was forty, fifty – if I lived that long. The thought made my heart trip.
‘You do look a bit feverish.’ Mum was gripping my upper arms. ‘Maybe you’re coming down with something.’
‘I don’t think so.’ I subtly moved out of her grasp. ‘This is such a lovely surprise,’ I said, gesturing at the room, which seemed much smaller now it was filled with people. The dove-grey walls – which I’d repainted after Matt moved out – felt as if they were closing in and panic briefly stirred. ‘I can’t believe Vic has gone to all this trouble.’ I looked around for him but he’d vanished, no doubt to check on the food or to fetch more drinks.
‘He’s a good man; he’s thought of everything.’ Mum’s face relaxed into a smile. ‘Make sure you hang on to him,’ she said, playfully. She’d been distraught when Matt left, but, once she’d accepted I wasn’t heading back into therapy, had cautiously retreated and welcomed Vic into the family with open arms.
‘Happy Birthday, Lizbet.’ Dad materialised, holding a mug of coffee. He rarely touched alcohol, preferring to keep a clear head. ‘If you’re thirty-three now, that means I must be …’ He slung his free arm around my shoulder and pretended to do a sum in his head. ‘Getting old.’
‘Sixty-four’s not old.’ I forced a grin, used to him treating me like a child, calling me by his own diminutive of Elizabeth. He’d never forgiven himself for his part in what had happened; it sometimes seemed he’d been stuck in the past ever since, trying to make up for it. ‘Thanks for coming,’ I said, knowing nothing would have kept him away, even if it meant leaving his beloved furniture repair shop earlier than usual.
‘You don’t have to thank us for wanting to spend time with you.’ Mum slid her arm around Dad’s waist and smiled up at me. I looked at them, seeing myself in Dad’s hazel eyes, straight nose and the arch of his brows, and in Mum’s curves and the way she held herself tall, despite being a petite five foot two. I was a few inches taller, my hair a more reddish-brown, but there was no doubting we were mother and daughter.
As usual, feeling the weight of their gaze, of their hopes and expectations, I was compelled to brighten my smile, to dance my shoulders to the music springing from a speaker on the dresser – Pharrell Williams’s ‘Happy’ – and accept the badly wrapped present Hayley was holding out. She danced from foot to foot, hands clasped as I unwrapped the shiny pink paper to reveal a box containing a charm bracelet hung with a silver heart. The heart was inscribed with the words Love you forever, Mummy, eliciting fond murmurs when I read them out.
‘It’s from me!’ Hayley could barely contain herself, straining to see the words that had hazed in a blur of tears. ‘Daddy helped me when we went shopping on Saturday.’
Matt? I tried not to react. ‘Thank you, darling, I love it so much.’ I bent to hug her but she’d already raced away, so I slipped it on and held it out for Mum and Dad to admire.
‘Where’s that brother of yours?’ Mum said, letting go of my wrist to glance around. ‘I told him to get you something nice. I hope he listened to me.’
I caught Dad’s eye and he looked away, smile fading. It pained them both that my once close relationship with my brother had eroded to the point where he had to be ‘reminded’ about my birthday. He’d softened since meeting Rosa – she’d been good for him – but I doubted it was to the point where he’d go gift-shopping.
‘He’s around somewhere. I saw him earlier,’ Dad said. ‘Probably gone to the loo.’
‘Graham,’ Mum said, as though he’d said a swear word, lightly tapping his arm.
‘Linda,’ he replied in a similar tone, and they exchanged affectionate smiles.
Bye, bye, Beth.
As the words floated into my mind, my own smile faded.
I had to talk to Rosa.