‘I wanted to be here for you, to be with you at the funeral.’ Ted tried to take her hand.
There was a hot feeling in Ellen’s chest. But now it wasn’t guilt, and it wasn’t for Tom – it was grief for her marriage. The simmering anger had turned into hurt; she was utterly bereft. Yet still she heard herself say, ‘I don’t need you.’ She shook him away.
‘I think you do.’
Ellen wandered further down the beach. ‘I didn’t want you to come here.’ If he didn’t touch her, she would stay strong. For years their marriage had been one-sided. Ted gave, she took, content in the knowledge he would do anything for her. But since she’d brought Linda home and seen how much affection he had for her daughter, how he made sure he was totally fair to each child, she’d felt the tables slowly turning. The only way she knew how to show her gratitude was to put up with Hannah’s jibes. But lately she knew his mother was sensing the change between them and she was on the receiving end of more rancorous attacks.
Now she couldn’t bear to be in the house with either of them.
‘What have I done?’ He looked genuinely upset but she wasn’t fooled.
‘You must think I’m daft.’ Ellen watched Linda take William’s hand as she searched for shells on the tideline. ‘Not too far,’ she called.
‘What do you mean?’
She moved her shoulders, poised, ready to run. Nervousness made her restive.
‘I don’t know what you think I’ve done, Ellen, but you have to tell me.’ Ted sat on a rock. ‘Sit down here. Please.’ He reached towards her. ‘Tell me. Unless you do, I can’t put things right.’
‘No,’ she said, making a performance of keeping an eye on the children. ‘You know what you’ve done.’ Tell me who you’re having the affair with; tell me that, she silently pleaded.
‘I don’t.’
The light wind spiralled a veil of sand around their feet. A seabird, its feathers a white blaze reflecting the sun, rose from the nearby cliffs and then, closing its wings, arrowed into the sea. Ellen squinted looking for its re-emergence but failed. She felt another layer of sadness.
‘Doreen Whittaker?’ The words escaped her mouth before she could stop them.
There was a moment’s pause before she slanted a look at him and saw the surprise on his face, saw him finger the jagged scar on his left cheek the way he always did when he was thinking. She waited to see how he’d squirm his way out of the accusation.
‘What?’
‘Doreen Whittaker.’ Ellen spoke through clenched teeth.
‘Doreen? You know?’
‘I know.’
‘I told him he was stupid. I said I didn’t want us involved.’
‘What? Who?’
‘Patrick.’
‘Patrick?’ Ellen spoke slowly.
‘Yes, Patrick.’ Hurt understanding emerged on his face. ‘It’s not me having the affair, Ellen, it’s Patrick. Do you really think I’d do that to you?’
Glancing back to check on the children, she took a step towards him but again wouldn’t take his hand.
‘The reason he keeps coming to the house is so he can slip out from the back yard to next door. I’ve told him I don’t like it but your brother doesn’t take no for an answer.’
Ellen took a few long breaths, searching his face for the truth. When she thought about it there were a couple of times she’d watched Patrick turn up the alleyway towards Greenacre Street, when it would have been quicker to go down towards Shaw Road if he’d been going home. And then she remembered something. ‘Once,’ she said, ‘just after Christmas, that time he created hell because you wouldn’t go to the Crown with him, I watched him hanging around at the back gate for ages, looking back at the house.’ She held Ted’s gaze. ‘I was washing up. I kept looking at him. And then, suddenly, he’d gone, vanished.’ She raised her eyes, cursing her stupidity. ‘Obviously one of the times he’d gone next door … to see her.’
‘Probably.’ Ted was clearly shaken. ‘You thought I was having an affair with her?’
‘Yes,’ she said simply. ‘I did.’
Ted held out his hand. This time she took it.
‘Listen Ellen. I’ve loved you since we were kids, you know that. I love you now and I will always love you. Whatever happens, whatever you do, I love you.’
The warmth that filled Ellen startled her. Somewhere, deep inside her, the tiny kernel of love that had grown began to spread until the overwhelming sensation almost made her dizzy. ‘I love you too, Ted.’ It was the first time she’d said it to him and she knew she really meant it.
In that moment of stillness she knew she needed to be honest. Her voice wobbled. ‘Ted, there is something I need to tell you. I’ve kept something from you about Linda.’
He covered her mouth with his fingers. ‘Frank Shuttleworth?’
She twisted her face away. ‘You know?’ Now it was her turn to say the words. What an idiot I’ve been, she thought. ‘He used me to get back at Mary for chucking him.’
‘I know. Patrick told me the first time I met him after I came home. I think he was trying to put me off. He felt I was too old for you.’
‘He wouldn’t care about that. He’s just spiteful. You’re a better man than he’ll ever be. What’s eight years anyway, it’s never bothered me.’ She enclosed his hand with both of hers. ‘I’m sorry, Ted, I should have been the one to tell you.’
‘I don’t care who Linda’s father was. I’m her Dad. I love her. I love both my kids.’
The seabird suddenly appeared again. Or perhaps it’s a different bird, she thought. It rose and fell on the crest of each wave, drifting slowly away until she was unable to make it out against the horizon.
‘I made such a mess of my life. I’m surprised you looked twice at me.’
‘Well, I’m not. I love you, Ellen Booth, and don’t ever forget that. You don’t have to tell me anything. It was enough that when I came home you were there,’ he said, shrugging off his jacket and dropping in onto the pebbles. ‘Let’s sit down.’ Further along the beach the children were climbing small rocks. ‘Don’t fall,’ he called. ‘And watch you don’t slip into the pools.’
Ellen sat by him, gradually aware Ted was staring at her. Self-consciously she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her cheeks hot.
‘You’re beautiful.’
‘Don’t look at me, I’m a right mess – no make-up.’ She dipped her chin.
‘You’re beautiful to me, with or without.’
‘Your mother said you don’t like slap, as she calls it.’
‘Ma?’ Ted stared at her. ‘I don’t recall ever talking to her about anything like that. Anyway, whatever she put on her face it wouldn’t improve it – unless it was a paper bag.’
Ellen laughed. He could always make her laugh. She sobered for a moment; pulling her knees up under her chin, she wrapped her full skirt around them. ‘Your mother…’ She was apprehensive. It was something she’d broached before, something they never resolved. She knew Ted felt beholden to his mother because of the money.
His face set. ‘Mary told me some of it. How bad is it?’
‘It’s worse than ever. And it’s driving me mad. She watches – and picks all the time. She’s nasty and she’s spiteful as soon as you’ve turned your back.’ Her throat tightened with misery and she struggled for breath.
He pulled her close. ‘That’s okay, love. I get the picture and I’ll make sure it stops.’
‘How, Ted?’ She pulled herself away from him. ‘When you’re not there? How can you do that?’
‘I’ll talk to her, tell her to stop.’
Ellen gave a small shake of her head. ‘It’s when she starts on about Linda that I really hate it.’
His face darkened. ‘What does she say?’
‘That I tricked you into keeping Linda, that she shouldn’t be with us, that she’ll grow up to be a whore like me.’
‘Right!’ A muscle in his jaw twitched as he clamped his teeth together.
For a moment Ellen was scared. She’d kept so much to herself for so long, thinking he wouldn’t believe her. He was used to Hannah’s whining but his mother kept the malevolence for when she was alone with Ellen. ‘She calls Linda “the bastard”, Ted.’
She heard his long muted breath. ‘It won’t happen again, Ellen. You’ll not have to hear that ever again, I promise you.’ He held her to him. She rested her head against his chest, relieved that at last she’d told him everything. He would make it all right. His voice echoed in her ear. ‘Whatever it takes, I’ll make sure she never speaks to you like that again. I love you more that I’ve loved anyone, ever. It’s you, me and the kids from now on, believe me.’
Ellen swallowed; for the first time in her life she felt she belonged to someone, that she fitted just right into someone’s life and she hugged that knowledge to herself.