Chapter 25

‘What have you said to Mother?’

Mark pulls open the garage doors. I follow him inside and wait for him to turn around and look at me. He leans with his back against the Armstrong Siddeley’s bonnet. I shake my head, no clue what he’s on about.

‘What do you mean?’

‘She wants to catch the next train back to London.’

‘I haven’t said anything.’

‘Something’s upset her. Last night she was talking about being here for the next few days.’ Mark glares at me.

‘I haven’t had a conversation with Jennifer about any of that. I’ve no idea.’

‘You’ve hardly been welcoming though, have you? It’s no wonder she’s decided she can’t stay.’

‘That isn’t fair! I told you I didn’t appreciate being dumped with your mother. You say how difficult she is. I’ve tried to be friendly. You know what’s she’s like.’

He looks away, out towards the house. The car looms behind him, a great dark hulk of decay.

‘Has she said why she’s going back?’

He shakes his head. ‘It’s too soon to be sure her new pills suit her, I’d rather she was here until we know she’s alright. Blackstone’s threatening to find another junior for the Southampton trial if I have any more time away from chambers.’

Maybe I have been a bit standoffish, Jennifer has a talent for putting my back up. Nothing particularly bad springs to mind though, I have been making an effort.

‘You need to start trusting me, Mark.’

‘It’s only you says I don’t.’

‘Rubbish! You should’ve asked me about Tom’s accident. How dare you cross-examine the children! I won’t have you or your mother reduce them to gibbering wrecks. They’re nine years old, not criminals in one of your witness boxes!’

‘I need to know what the hell’s going on here. It’s one thing after another.’

‘If you trust me like you say, you’d speak to me, listen to what I say instead of ignoring me or dismissing what I tell you as being my imagination on overdrive.’

Silence.

I cross my arms and wish I’d grabbed my windcheater. It’s damp in here.

‘Mrs Havers says that you visited her during the summer.’ My voice is level, no accusing undercurrent.

‘You’ve met her. The woman’s unhinged, and that’s being polite.’

‘But you said nothing about it.’

‘We’ve been here already, Kate. You were ill. I kept stuff away from you on doctor’s orders. I thought I was doing the right thing. Doctor Langdon says you’re fine.’

‘You’ve spoken to the GP about me?’

‘Only after we found you knocked out. I just asked if you’d be okay to look after the children. You know he can’t tell me more than that. Don’t go getting paranoid.’

His phone buzzes in his pocket. I haven’t realised there’s a signal out here. It buzzes again, loud in the silence between us. Chambers? Who calls him on a Sunday morning?

‘How have you got on with the insurers? I was thinking we might need another estimate if George Cooper isn’t coming back. They’ll want three, won’t they, before they authorise any work?’

‘Why wouldn’t he come back, Kate?’

Mark’s eyes bore into mine, challenging me to explain George’s absence. His phone buzzes again.

‘Shouldn’t you get that?’

He shakes his head, waiting for me to answer his question. ‘It’s nothing that can’t wait.’

‘It’s such a big job, maybe we need more than just George?’

‘Leave it for now.’

‘Why? We need to get on here – at least repair the roof.’

I don’t want to argue but guilt’s kept me silent, on the back foot for too long.

‘Are you seeing Cassie? Is it her on the phone now?’

He shakes his head, drops his chin to his chest. My question hasn’t surprised him. Why then, deny it?

‘You never explain why you’re not here, where you are, what you’re doing. I’ve had enough of being lied to. If it isn’t Cassie, then who? Just tell me, it’s cruel to leave me hanging.’

‘Don’t judge me by your own standards, Kate.’

‘That’s no answer.’

He turns to face me, his eyes cold and hard, always this when we get near Stephen. His phone buzzes again.

‘You should get that, you’ve no idea who it might be.’ The sarcasm is plain in my tone. ‘It might be urgent.’

I take a breath, my heart’s a knot in my chest, getting tighter, my palms sweating. I have to know what’s going on, what I’m dealing with, but I won’t lose it and give him an excuse to shout me down.

‘I’ve still no answer about Tom. Just you deflecting the blame, Kate. How can I be sure the kids are safe around you? I’m not even confident you take your medication.’

This, yet again. Why does he want me on pills that make me as dopey as hell, all these months?

‘I read the email from your solicitor.’ My voice is flat and quiet. I watch his face, see surprise blend to anger.

‘Considering the circumstances, I don’t think anyone’s going to blame me for taking advice. Checking out my options. You’d do the same, Kate.’

‘Don’t you think you shoulder some responsibility? A marriage doesn’t hit trouble because of one person, it takes two for it to fail.’

‘I didn’t fuck Blackstone and half of Lincoln’s Inn.’

The slap makes the silence that follows seem unreal. My palm tingles, rough stubble and jaw bone. Mark’s face jerks from the force of it. He turns back towards me, his eyes full of shock, eclipsed instantly by fury.

‘What the fuck? That was utterly unforgivable, Kate.’

I’m as appalled as Mark looks. I haven’t hit anyone since primary school. He steps away from the car towards the open garage door. I’m so shocked for a moment I can’t think of anything to say. I can’t screw up now. I try to take a breath, to speak calmly, not to make this any worse than it already is. ‘And it’s not unforgivable to say that sort of thing to me? I was with Stephen once, no one else.’

‘Was he any good?’

‘Stephen? You want to know? You really want to know that?’

Mark stares at me, less than a metre between us. Stephen’s older than us, early 50s. Does that bother him? Why would he care?

‘I honestly don’t remember.’ I shake my head, it does no good to go here again. We’ve been over and over that night. ‘I was so drunk.’

‘Blackstone says you used him, can you believe that?’

‘Used him, how?’

‘To get at me.’

‘Get at you?’

‘You were pissed off with me that night for not turning up to the party. I was working remember, for us?’

‘That’s utterly ridiculous! It’s not always all about Stephen, he’s absolutely unbelievable!’

Mark is shaking his head, his laugh a low humourless sound.

‘Everything was fine with us until your thing with him.’

So finally we get to the point. The place Mark refuses to go.

‘But it wasn’t fine with us before, was it?’

I wait, he won’t answer. He never does.

‘Once we did everything together. We came first. I’m not a foolish romantic, I know passion cools over time and becomes something more steady, but you went missing. It seems anything and everything is more interesting for you than being with me and your family, Mark. You worship at the altar of your career. Nothing gets in the way of it. You and the twins are everything to me, you always have been. I came here hoping to keep all that safe, but if you can’t or won’t let Stephen drop, we’ve no chance, have we?’

Mark doesn’t answer.

‘I’ve apologised countless times, I’ve moved to a house I hate away from all I know, but you’re never here. That’s why it’s not working – because you’re not here and won’t take any responsibility for your part in any of this.’

Mark turns away, stares out across the drive. Silence pulls out into a monstrous thing between us. I’m too scared to ask if he still loves me. What would I do if I get the wrong answer?

‘You said we could sell up if it didn’t work out. There’s something here, I can’t explain it. I don’t feel safe and neither do the twins. I’m going to move out and take them with me. I’ll rent somewhere local for now. Even if you can’t understand, I hope you’ll still come with us.’

Mark turns around, watches my face as if there might be more. More nutty nonsense to fling at him.

‘If you’re going to leave us, Mark, don’t keep stringing this whole thing out. It’s too painful for words, but don’t consider taking the twins. I am a good mother.’

‘Are you? How can I be sure?’

I stare back at him. I don’t flinch, don’t pull my eyes from his.

‘How do I know you’re not just like your mother, Kate?’

My heart thrums my ribs, pulses in my throat. Words fail to come, my brain paralysed. I stare at my husband and wonder who he is and how we ever got here.

‘I’m just fine. Absolutely fine. If you suggest otherwise, even hint I’m not fit to care for our children, you’ll have to prove it. I’ll never let you take the twins from me, Mark.’

Footsteps crunching on gravel, we both turn to the open garage door. Jennifer in her camel coat, beret and gloves.

‘Not interrupting, I hope?’

She looks between us, her smile falsely bright. My cheeks burn, my eyes, hot. I can’t find a platitude to smooth things over. She knows damned well we’ve been arguing. Mark’s probably already told her his plans.

‘I suggested a trip to the cinema this morning, Katherine, before I travel home, but the twins say they have too much homework.’

‘That’s a first,’ says Mark, stepping out of the garage to stand beside his mother. ‘Surely they can go out for a couple of hours, Kate?’

Mark’s looking out across the lawn towards the lane, a taxi is coming down the drive. Jennifer’s, I assume.

‘They promised me they had no homework over half-term, but Sophie suddenly remembered a history project that’s due tomorrow. I’ve said they’re going nowhere until it’s done.’

Mark’s phone buzzes. Jennifer looks at her son, towards the sound. Whoever it is is as persistent as hell.

‘Shouldn’t you know what homework’s been set, Kate? You don’t have anything else to do.’

Mark’s glaring at me, but I’m not backing down. I won’t have this conversation in front of his mother. His mobile stops buzzing.

‘Anyway,’ says Jennifer, the insipid smile again, ‘that builder chap might say he’s secured the balcony doors, but I can assure you he hasn’t. You’ll need to speak to him darling. Don’t use that room for now.’

Mark’s phone buzz, buzz, buzzes.

‘For goodness sakes, answer the phone!’ Jennifer frowns at Mark. ‘How do you know it isn’t important?’

‘That’s just what I’ve been telling you, Mark. Take the call why don’t you?’

 

❦

 

‘What have you been saying to Nana Jen?’

‘Nothing,’ the twins say in unison.

I pull a face, and glance at their books, not much done so far. To say I’d flown off the handle earlier is putting it mildly. The twins had looked so shocked, but I hate being lied to. Perhaps I should have let them go with Jennifer for a couple of hours, given Mark and me space to talk. We clearly need to. Riley snoozes beside the stove. I put on the kettle, do I dare take Mark a coffee? Better to leave him to work for a while, time for us both to calm down. I stand at the sink and stare out of the window. My car is blurred by fog, parked beside a jumble of scaffolding poles and George’s overflowing skip. One of the golly’s legs pokes up from the heap of debris. After Mrs Havers’ taxi left for Fairfield, I’d pushed the doll amongst the broken lathes, plaster and tiles. If it was the twins messing about, it’s out of reach now, well and truly rammed in amongst the rubble and rubbish.

The twins whisper behind me.

‘You two need to get on,’ I say, turning to face them. Their heads lean together, eyes looking up at me. ‘You can sit there until those projects are done. Dad’s furious and blaming me. I’m not having it, so I suggest you get on.’

‘We need the internet,’ says Tom, curling the corner of his textbook.

‘Tough,’ I say. ‘If you’d told me earlier instead of lying about it, we could’ve used Shirley’s or gone to the library.’

‘We’re not lying, we forgot,’ says Sophie. I wait for her to look at me, stop her detailed study of the table top.

‘What else have you been up to?’

‘Nothing.’

I tip my head to one side, press my lips into a flat smile. I know when the twins are hiding something.

‘Nanna Jen hasn’t packed all her stuff.’ Sophie sticks her pencil between her teeth, gnaws the end of it.

‘What do you mean? She’s forgotten something?’

Jennifer’s organised, even at her age. I find it hard to believe anything would be overlooked.

‘Dad can take it with him when he goes tonight, if she has,’ I say, trying to keep my tone even. The row with Mark has made me anxious, angrier than I should be with the kids.

Tom nudges Sophie with his elbow and jolts the pencil from her mouth.

‘We saw things in the spare room, her things. Nail stuff and shoes.’

‘You’ve been in there?’

Sophie shakes her head, alarm in her face at my raised voice. I rarely shout at the twins, twice in less than an hour is practically unprecedented.

‘Nanna Jen’s upped and left and Dad says it’s because of me. I’ll be furious if you two have done something.’

Sophie looks at Tom, her eyes bright.

‘I’m fed up with you being naughty. Is it you two putting that bloody golly everywhere? I’ve thrown it out once already. It’s not funny.’

‘It isn’t me, I hate it!’ Sophie looks at Tom.

‘I haven’t done anything,’ says Tom, shoving his sister’s exercise book.

‘You took it from the attic and chased me with it!’

‘Who put it in the morning room? Someone took it out of the skip. Was it you, Tom?’

Neither speaks. Both look down at their homework, Tom scribbles small circles round and round on the corner of his page.

‘The spare room door was open. We saw Nanna Jen’s stuff from the landing when we got up, didn’t we, Tom?’

Tom’s nodding, stares up at me, blue eyes, wide. ‘It’s still open.’

‘I’ll close it.’ I say.

If I sort it before Mark goes it’ll be okay, we can stay downstairs. The twins’ heads huddle close, more whispering, their eyes turning to me.

‘And another thing, I still don’t have any proper answer about Tom’s accident. Now what’s going on with you two?’

‘Nanna Jen was in the morning room when we got up, wasn’t she Tom?’

Tom’s nodding.

‘So, why shouldn’t she be?’

The twins exchange a glance and look back at me.

‘She slept there all night.’