I drive straight to Liz’s house without stopping. She takes one look at my face and wraps her arms around me.
“Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. He’s such a fucking bastard.”
I let her lead me into the kitchen and sit down on the chair she pulls out. She pushes a box of tissues toward me but I shake my head. I cried all the way from the school to her house but, now I’m here, the tears have dried up.
“How long has it been going on?” she asks. “Since last year?”
I shake my head. “They haven’t been having an affair.”
“What? But you’ve been crying. I assumed—”
“He tried to kiss her and she pushed him away.”
“Did she now?” She raises an eyebrow.
“I believe her. She said he was really upset. He told her he loved me and he was scared he was going to lose me—”
“And so he kissed her. Way to rescue your relationship, Mark! For fuck’s sake.”
“But he was right. Things weren’t great between us and—”
“No.” Liz crosses her arms. “I am not going to let you blame yourself for this. This is about Mark, not you. You were going through a bad patch but you didn’t throw yourself at one of your kids’ teachers. Did you?”
“No.”
“No, you fucking didn’t. Honestly.” She opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of wine. “I could swing for him. I really could. Men and their fucking dicks.
“Sorry.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m making this about me. Lloyd is coming over tomorrow and I’m really bloody nervous.”
“Has he told you why he wants to talk to you yet?”
“No.” She takes two glasses out of the cupboard. “I guess I’ll find out soon enough. So, what about you? What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“You could leave him.”
“For a kiss? For lying about something he’s ashamed of? We’ve been married for twenty years.”
“That’s not a reason to stay together.”
“But . . .” The same images repeat themselves in my head: Mark tenderly checking me over after my first blackout, holding hands during DS Forbes’s visit, ringing to wish me a drunken goodnight, kissing in the kitchen. “Things have been different between us recently. We’ve felt closer. We’ve been talking.”
“Well, that’s something.” She plunks a glass of rosé in front of me and sits down.
“What would you do?” I ask. “If you were me?”
She takes a sip of her wine. “But I’m not you, am I? I could tell you that there’s no way you can trust him now he’s lied to you about something this big and that you’ll be happier without him but that’s a decision you need to make.”
“Are you happier without Lloyd?”
“I’ve got Tinder, haven’t I? And a nine-inch dildo?” Her smile slips as she looks up from her glass. “I’m fine. I wouldn’t say I’m happy but it’s early days. I miss being in love, I miss curling up with someone on the sofa and I miss having someone to talk to. But maybe it was for the best that Lloyd left. We didn’t love each other anymore.”
She sighs. “What I’m saying is that it’s better to be on your own than with someone who doesn’t love you. I’m not the right person to ask for advice, Claire. The way I feel about men at the moment I want to tell you to fuck Mark off. But if you still love him and he loves you, and you can put what happened behind you, then maybe it’s not too late for you two to put things right.”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t make any big decisions yet. Give yourself some time to—”
She’s interrupted by the sound of my mobile ringing.
“Sorry.” I fish it out of my bag. An unknown number flashes on the screen. “Hello?”
“Hello, Mrs. Wilkinson. It’s DS Forbes. I was wondering if there’s any way I can get together with you and Mark at some point today? There’s been a development.”