Always You (14 page)

‘We should make a point of going out for supper on a regular basis.’

Her eyes grew big and she chewed frantically, trying to get the sandwich down.

‘It would give us a proper chance to talk about the kids,’ he went on.

The sandwich had formed into a dry lump; the cream cheese stuck to her teeth. She placed the fork on the plate and put a hand on her throat, willing it to go down.

He was more animated now than she’d seen him in a long time, waving the Coke about so that the coffee-coloured liquid came precariously close to flying out of the glass. ‘And it would be good for the kids, you know, seeing us together more, getting along. What do you say?’

She swallowed at last with a faint audible gulp, and blurted out, ‘But we’re not together, Ian. It would just be a show of togetherness.’

His expression soured, his lips thinned and a deep frown appeared between his pale brows. But she pressed on hastily, determined to nip this fantasy of them playing happy families in the bud. ‘And we manage just fine the way things are, discussing whatever needs to be discussed when we drop the kids off from each other.’

The sour look was replaced with one of bitter disappointment and he downed the rest of the fizzy drink. Sarah’s voice softened. ‘You know you’re always welcome to stay and chat when you drop the kids off, if there’s something troubling you.’ She offered an olive branch in the form of a smile. ‘And there’s always the phone.’

His eyes brightened and a look of dogged determination, that she knew so well and slightly dreaded, passed across his face. He smiled pleasantly and leaning past her, placed the empty glass on the table behind her. She held the plate under her chin.

‘If things are fine just the way they are,’ he said, his voice low and even, ‘then why were we just discussing Molly’s problems at school? At a party?’ he said, making a sweeping gesture with his hand that encompassed the room and everyone in it.

Momentarily stumped, she said nothing.

‘You have to agree,’ he said, sliding his hand into his trouser pocket, ‘it’s hardly appropriate.’

‘You chose to raise the subject,’ she said a little nastily. ‘We didn’t have to talk about it here.’

‘Come on now, Sarah,’ he said all gentleness and smiles, ‘let’s not argue. Please?’

Suppressing her irritation with him, she nodded. ‘Okay.’

‘But you do take my point, don’t you?’

She sighed and shook her head in exasperation. He never would take no for an answer. But he was right too – this wasn’t the place to wash their family linen. She looked around, desperately trying to make eye contact with someone, anyone, in the crowd.

Ian inched closer and she noticed beads of sweat on his forehead. It was warm in the room, but not hot. ‘Are you feeling okay?’ she said.

‘Yes, yes, I’m fine,’ he said somewhat dismissively and she shuffled backwards until the edge of the table pressed into the back of her thighs.

‘Tell you what, why don’t we take the kids out for tea next week, just the four of us? They’d love that.’

‘Er … I don’t think that would be a good idea, Ian. I mean, what would Raquel say?’

He took a step backwards, his pale-eyed, steady gaze making Sarah feel as if he could see right into her soul. He ran his tongue over his lips and said very quietly, ‘I haven’t been entirely straight with you – or anyone for that matter – about Raquel. Possibly because it’s hard for me to admit that I’ve made a mistake. A big mistake.’

Sarah stared at him, torn between embarrassment at being privy to this information, and curiosity. She’d always wondered what Ian had seen in Raquel, apart from the obvious – youth and sex appeal. Raquel wasn’t a marriage breaker – she’d come on the scene after she and Ian had split up – but Sarah, like the children, had never warmed to the woman.

Ian looked at his feet and cleared his throat. ‘Raquel and I … well, suffice to say we don’t get on very well these days. In fact,’ he said, his voice catching, ‘to be brutally honest, we don’t get on at all. I haven’t been happy for a long time.’

Sarah felt her cheeks burn hot and said uneasily, ‘Ian, I don’t think you should be telling me this. You should be at home talking to Raquel, not me.’

He sighed loudly. ‘I’m done talking. I’m thinking of asking her for a divorce.’

‘Oh.’ Sarah’s immediate thought was for the children. The break-up of their father’s marriage would be unsettling and would he have to sell the house? Was he likely to become depressed? She didn’t think he was the sort of man who would be happy living for long on his own. ‘I’m very sorry to hear that, Ian,’ she said with genuine compassion.

His shoulders sagged and he said flatly, ‘I never imagined that this marriage would end in divorce too.’

Sarah nodded grimly, knowing how much Ian believed in the sanctity of marriage and how deeply he would feel this failure.

He brushed something off his cheek. ‘We barely talk to each other, at least not in any meaningful way. Not the way you and I used to talk – in the early days, at least.’ He paused briefly to smile sadly at her. ‘The truth of the matter is that Raquel and I don’t have anything in common. And it’s not the differences that make a good marriage but the things you share, like values and beliefs. And children.’ He paused to let this sink in, then went on, ‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m not blaming Raquel. She’s … she’s just what she is. I feel sorry for her because I don’t believe that I can make her happy. I blame myself.’

‘Oh, Ian, you mustn’t,’ said Sarah. ‘Marriages break up all the time and sometimes it’s no one’s fault.’

‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘The mistake I made was in not getting to really know her properly beforehand. Not like us. We’ve known each other since we were kids.’

‘Familiarity is no guarantee of a successful marriage,’ said Sarah quickly, ‘as you and I clearly demonstrate.’

‘That’s true. But we had lots of good times.’

‘We did,’ acknowledged Sarah, who had long ago stopped beating herself up about the failure of her marriage and tried to focus on its high points instead.

‘Do you remember the time we took the kids to Florida?’ It had been their last holiday together as a family.

‘Yes, Molly was just three and Lewis was still a baby.’ Looking back they’d been crazy to take the kids so young. Molly barely remembered Disney World, and Lewis not at all. But she saw now that it had been a last ditch attempt on Ian’s part to save the marriage – and his family. ‘Do you remember the ice creams we bought on the first day? They were enormous. Even you couldn’t finish yours.’

He laughed and she relaxed, pleased that she’d successfully steered the conversation onto the comfortable territory of the children. ‘After that, we bought one of everything and split it between the kids.’

Sarah tried to remember other highlights of the trip – and tried to forget the huge distance between her and Ian that had only been made more painfully obvious.

‘I sometimes think we gave up too easily,’ he said, and she stared at him in astonishment. If anything, in trying to keep the family together, she’d stuck it out longer than she ought to have. She opened her mouth to protest.

But just then her attention was caught by the man who sauntered confidently into the room. It took her a few milliseconds to recognise him but, when she did, her heart froze and the retort died on her lips. It was Anthony McLoughlin, a close friend of Cahal’s at uni – and someone she’d hoped never to see again in her entire life.

She stared at the easy engaging smile, the Roman nose and the mop of fair curly hair that was largely unchanged from the last time she’d seen him. What on earth was he doing here? Surely he wasn’t a relative of Isabelle?

Ian said something but she did not hear. Her heart had started again, pumping violently against her ribcage. She shrank back against the table and glanced at the emergency exit. With luck on her side she could avoid him, make her excuses and leave early. She took a step closer to Ian, hiding behind his broad frame, and cautiously peeped over his shoulder.

‘Do you agree?’ said Ian.

‘Huh …?’ she said, absentmindedly. And then Becky came through the door, dressed in a modest knee-length black jersey dress, and Sarah’s shoulders sagged with relief. If only she could attract Becky’s attention and get her to cover for her escape …

‘Sarah?’ said Ian.

But what was this? Anthony turned and took her sister’s hand in his and they smiled at each other. The secret, eyes-locked-together smile of lovers.

She shivered, goosebumps prickling her arms like a plucked chicken. Anthony and Becky? How could that be?

And then she remembered. Anthony had told her once, on that fateful night she’d rather forget, that he intended to stay on and do a PhD in biology. Becky’s Tony was a lecturer in biology. How could she not have made the connection? She’d been too preoccupied with Cahal to pay attention to Becky’s new man. Her stomach went cold, like she’d swallowed ice cubes.

‘What is it?’ said Ian. He followed her gaze to the happy couple. Tony cradled Becky’s hand between his own while they chatted to Isabelle and Ron.

‘Oh, so this is the mystery man,’ said Ian and turned to Sarah with a puzzled look on his face. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

Sarah bit down on her lip till it hurt. And then, to her relief, she heard Aunt Vi’s voice in her ear.

‘At least he’s wearing a jacket and tie. That’ll please your father.’

From reserves somewhere deep inside her, Sarah managed to summon up a grim smile, and Ian said, ‘He looks like a teacher.’

In crumpled chinos, a brown corduroy jacket with leather patches on the elbow and a thin burgundy silk-knit tie, Tony did look like the archetypal teacher. But it wasn’t the way he was dressed that concerned her. It was the way he looked at Becky, and worse, the way she stared back at him, a look of adoration that she had never before seen on her sister’s face lending her average features a luminous beauty.

‘Well, he is a teacher of sorts, I suppose,’ said Aunt Vi, the tone of her voice indicating cautious approval, in spite of the fact that Tony stuck out among this conservative group like a sore thumb.

‘Well, Becky’s clearly keen on him,’ observed Ian. Sarah knew she had to escape. She tried to move but her legs refused to co-operate and her arms were leaden. She leaned one hand on the table to steady herself and the plate in her hand wobbled. As if in slow motion, she watched the fork slide off the plate. She tried to grab it, missed, and it landed on the floor with a loud clatter, attracting attention from everyone around.

‘Oh, do be careful! You’ll stain that beautiful dress,’ cried Vi while Ian bent at the waist and picked the fork up off the floor. Sarah, previously hidden by Ian’s body, ducked her head. But it was too late. Becky had seen her.

Ian straightened up, said, ‘I’ll get you a clean fork,’ and disappeared.

Becky’s happy voice drifted above the soft buzz of conversation in the room. ‘Oh, you must come and meet Sarah and Aunt Vi!’

With shaking hands, Sarah set the plate down carefully on the table among the platters of food and wiped her sweaty palms on the front of her dress, oblivious to Aunt Vi’s protestations. ‘Sarah,’ said Becky’s voice. Sarah lifted her head and stared her sister straight in the eye, dreading what would happen next.

Becky beamed. ‘I’d like you to meet my sister, Sarah. Sarah, this is Tony.’

She could not speak, she could only stare at him wordlessly as her breath came quietly in little fits and starts. Tony’s steady blue-eyed gaze met hers and the broad, friendly smile on his face did not waver. Only a flicker of his right eyelid and the contraction of his dark pupils gave any sign of recognition.

She must seize the initiative before it was too late. Finding her voice she thrust her hand forward and blurted out, with a manic grin on her face, ‘Nice to meet you at last, Tony.’

And he replied, taking her hand, all ease and charm, ‘Likewise. Becky’s told me so much about you.’ He pumped her hand briefly, then dropped it like a hot stone.

‘And this is my Aunt Vi,’ said Becky, and an exchange of small talk followed. The tension drained out of Sarah and she was filled instead with relief – and a new creeping fear.

The moment of danger was past. But for how long? Would he keep the secret forever or would he feel compelled to tell Becky everything? Suddenly Becky grabbed Sarah’s arm and said in a confidential tone, ‘Tony thinks I should apply to uni as a mature student.’

‘I always said you were wasted in that office.’

Becky frowned. ‘I thought you’d be a bit more enthusiastic.’

Sarah forced a smile. ‘I think it’s a great idea. Really.’

While Becky rattled off a choice of possible courses, the thought occurred to Sarah that perhaps she had misread the situation. Becky’s track record with men was pretty dismal. Why should this boyfriend last any longer than the rest?

‘Tony says he’ll help me financially,’ said Becky, cutting a swathe through Sarah’s hopes.

‘Really? He oughtn’t to make promises like that unless he intends to be around in the long term.’

‘He does,’ said Becky happily and she smiled over at Tony. He winked at her and continued the conversation with Aunt Vi. Then she clasped Sarah’s hand in hers and squeezed it tight. ‘This time it’s different, Sarah,’ she whispered. ‘He’s like no one I’ve ever met before. And he loves me.’

‘He loves you?’ croaked Sarah.

‘Yes,’ said Becky firmly, her eyes misting up. ‘And I love him. I never thought this would happen to me, Sarah. I never thought that I’d find true love.’

Sarah stared at her glumly and Becky’s face fell. ‘Aren’t you pleased for me?’

‘Why, yes … of course I am. I’m thrilled.’ Sarah forced a hollow laugh. ‘After kissing all those frogs, you’ve finally found your prince!’

Becky roared with laughter and blew Tony a kiss and Sarah felt as if her heart was breaking. Becky was utterly oblivious, of course, but Sarah knew that her relationship with her sister was irreversibly altered. Either the awful secret would come out or Sarah would be shackled to it for the rest of her life, always watchful, always wary lest she betray herself or Tony. She wasn’t sure which was worse.