Dune Road (35 page)

Her life is usually terribly dull, but it occurs to her that every time her mother is around, a drama occurs. Kit hates drama, finds it unnecessary and unsettling, and strives to keep her life as balanced, ordered and calm as possible.

She watches other people she knows, women going through divorce, other mothers in school, get pulled into gossip and arguments, watches urgent, whispered conversations take place in the corridors of the school, and strolls past, grateful that she is not tempted to take part, and nor are her friends.

Already, women she knows, the ones who love the drama, are starting to ask her about Charlie. Is Charlie okay? Is it true? They’re just concerned,
of course
. And Kit just smiles and says Charlie is great, and refuses to be drawn, refuses to take the bait, to comment any further. They may want the dirt, but they’re not going to get it from her.

Charlie would do the same for her,
did
, in fact, when Kit was going through her divorce. Everyone wanted to know everything, and Charlie kept quiet, a fact for which Kit will be eternally grateful.

But this is something different. The foundations of her life feel as if they are shifting. First with a sister she never knew she had turning up, then Charlie losing everything, and now her mother arriving and accusing her sister of being about as bad news as you can be. And Kit doesn’t know what to do.

It can’t get any worse, she thinks, but at the same time she feels as if she is on tenterhooks, waiting for the next bad thing. It feels as if she is living in an increasingly fragile house of cards which is being shaken with every new day.

The reading isn’t working. Perhaps some tea. She makes it, appreciating her house at this hour of the day; it is six o’clock and absolutely quiet, no children, no noise, no errands to run or things to do.

Her cell phone rings shrilly, disturbing the silence, and she jumps, her heart instantly beating faster. When the phone rings late at night or early in the morning, and her children are not with her, she always presumes the worst, and picks it up with a shaking hand, trying to prepare herself for terrible news.

“Darling? What are you doing awake? ” It’s her mother.

“I couldn’t sleep. What are
you
doing awake, and why are you calling? I thought you didn’t get up until noon.” Kit gets a flashback of staying with her mother when she was young, and the staff tiptoeing round the house all morning for fear of waking her up. Ginny would emerge from her bedroom at around noon, in a cashmere robe and slippers, to have tea before stepping in the shower and getting ready for her day.

Ginny laughs. “I’ve become a bit of a reformed character with Peter,” she trills. “We’re up at the crack of dawn every day doing yoga together on the terrace.”

“You
are
? ” Kit is stunned.

“Oh yes. I’ve cut out all caffeine and we’ve gone organic with everything. I’m a new woman. Honestly, I feel twenty years younger.”

That might be the new round of Botox, Kit thinks, but doesn’t say.

“I was going to leave a message. I just spoke to Peter and he said you ought to check all your things. Change the passwords on your accounts, that sort of thing.”

“Mother, don’t you think that’s a little excessive? Even if you’re right that I should check, I just don’t believe she would do that.”

“I promise you, Kit, she would. And isn’t it always better to be safe rather than sorry? Just double-check that everything is safe. She’s a clever girl, and it won’t be the first time.”

“What do you mean? ”

“She was caught stealing money before. It was a long time ago, and her father told me it was to fuel the drug addiction, but she was lucky. They didn’t press charges. I always thought they should, because if there are no consequences, what’s to stop her doing it again? ”

“But . . .” Kit splutters. “Even if that’s true, she isn’t doing drugs now. Why would she do that? ”

“Is she working? ”

There is a pause. “I don’t think so.”

“So. Just check. That’s all I’m asking. I understand how hard this is for you, you know, and I understand your loyalty, and that you cannot accept my not wanting to have anything to do with her, but let’s talk again when you have done some checking.” Ginny pauses. “I mean it, Kit,” she continues. “You need to check your stuff, and Adam ought to as well.”

“I’ll go upstairs now. She’s staying at . . . Adam’s. With the kids.”

Even as the words leave her mouth Kit realizes that she’s been burying her head in the sand.

“Oh God,” she attempts a laugh, “I think I’ve been really stupid. You’re right. There’s . . . something . . . But . . .” She tries to make sense of it. “I just can’t believe that anything has actually happened. Adam likes her, I saw that tonight, but it would be so inappropriate. Do you really think they are? ”

“Oh darling.” Ginny sounds sad. “Men are such shallow creatures, and she is a stunning girl. You’re quite right that it shouldn’t happen, but I’m afraid it probably already has.”

“What? ” Kit starts to shake. “Do you know something? ”

“No, but I saw the way he looked at her. He’s smitten.”

“You’re wrong,” Kit says firmly. “I can see that he’s fascinated by her, but honestly, I don’t think anything has happened. It would be like sleeping with a child, and however bad you think she is, I think she cares about me, and she knows that would be unacceptable.”

“She doesn’t care about you,” Ginny says. “I promise you, she doesn’t care about anyone. She’s a sociopath, and the only thing she cares about is herself. Oh, and money.”

“Even if that were true, that doesn’t mean she’d steal my husband.”

There is a long pause.

“I mean, ex-husband.”

Ginny exhales before speaking slowly, choosing her words carefully. “I think that’s exactly what she’s trying to do. I think you represent everything she’s ever wanted, and she wants what you have. And I believe nothing will stop her.”

“Do you really think it’s that strong? ”

“I do,” Ginny says. “I finally figured it out. She wants to replace you.”

Kit takes the tea upstairs and pauses outside the office, where Annabel has been sleeping.

Pushing the door open gingerly, she goes to the closet and riffles around. Annabel’s clothes, and many of Kit’s, are crumpled on the floor. She reaches further into the closet and pulls out her own favorite cashmere wrap. It has been shoved damply in the back of the closet, and Kit spits with rage as she discovers the irreparable hole.

“Oh my God! ” She is instantly furious. “How dare she? ”

She sits down at her computer and gazes blankly at the screen, overwhelmed at the prospect of Annabel being dishonest. Could that really be the case?

And Adam. Could that be true, what Ginny has suggested? Could anyone be that duplicitous? To stay in your house, be part of your family, all the while knowing that sleeping with this person would hurt you more than you could ever imagine?

It wouldn’t just hurt her, she realizes. It would be . . . horrific. Even the thought of the two of them together—she allows herself a few seconds to close her eyes and imagine it, imagine Adam performing the moves she remembers so well, on Annabel—even the thought of it makes her feel physically sick.

Charlie asked if she had the hots for her ex-husband. She didn’t think so. Thought that chapter was well and truly closed. But it’s one thing choosing not to be with someone, quite another for them to choose to be with someone else.

With a start, she realizes that it has been easy to get on with Adam recently precisely because there has been no one special. Countless dates, and she is certain he has been getting lots of regular sex, but no one who was a threat to her, no one she had to compare herself with, no one who was mothering her children when they were not at her house.

She can go pumpkin picking with him and the kids, and pretend to be a happy family still,
because
there has never been anyone else. She was thinking of asking him to come along with them to the Christmas tree farm. It could be Steve who comes, but that would feel wrong. He barely knows her kids, her kids barely know him—the handful of brief meetings they have had don’t exactly count. There isn’t enough intimacy there, and—honestly?—she doesn’t even know if she wants him to come.

She realizes now that she has already envisioned the family outing to get the tree. They would head up to Maple Row in Easton, as they have done every year since the children were born.

They will all dress up warmly, thermal underwear, thick gloves, hats and boots, for it is always colder than they expect, and nobody wants a repeat of the year Tory cried nonstop because she was so utterly freezing.

They will start at the bottom, waiting in line at the food stand, and buy hot dogs and doughnuts first, hot chocolates for the kids, and warm apple cider for her and Adam, then sit on low benches around the fire, chatting with strangers, and Tory will fall in love with all the dogs that people bring along, and once again, as she has done every year for many, many years, she will beg her parents for a puppy for Christmas.

It has become a Christmas tradition, the begging for the puppy, the indulgent smiles of the parents as they explain, once again, why this year won’t be the year Santa brings a puppy, no matter how many times Tory writes to ask for one.

Then they will hop on the hayride to go up to the top of the field, their legs dangling off the back of the old wooden flatbed as they trundle up frozen dirt paths, passing the tiny newly planted trees first, then the medium ones, all the way to the top, where the trees to be picked this year will be ready.

They will collect their saws from the small shed, and wander through the trees, each looking for the perfect tree, wondering why none of them is quite big enough, or perfect enough.

“Come and look at this one,” Buckley will shout, and they will all follow the sound of his voice, trying to think of a nice way of telling him that a tree with half of one side missing probably isn’t the best choice.

“How about over here? ” Tory will say, although it is invariably Adam who finds the tree, but pretends it is one of the kids.

“What do you think of this one? ” Adam will say, when he has at last found the perfect tree, and the kids will pick up on his excitement and will agree.

Then Adam will lie down on the ground, inching his way in, to start sawing the trunk, and Buckley will lie on the other side, imitating Adam perfectly, instructing his dad to saw further to the left, or right.

Buckley will finish off the sawing, while Kit watches, a proud smile on her face, for Buckley loves nothing more than imitating his father, and they will tag the tree, hop back on the hayride, and wait for the tree to be brought down to the car, where they will hoist it onto the roof rack and tie it with twine, before bringing it home.

Adam will set it up in the corner of Kit’s living room, and he will stay to help decorate, a Christmas playlist ringing out from the iPod as the children hang the ornaments, most of which will be rehung in a more organized fashion by Kit, once the children have gone to bed.

It is a tradition that stretches back years, and no one saw any reason to change it after the divorce, but perhaps that is also because there has been no one else. Would the tradition continue with another woman? A stepmother? Maybe not. And would the tradition continue if that other woman, that potential stepmother, was Annabel?

It is, Kit realizes, causing her a pain that is almost,
almost
, physical, and even before she suspected anything happening between Adam and Annabel, she was finding it hard to be around her sister, to see her getting on so well with her children, particularly Tory, who is so often, for Kit, a struggle.

 

Kit changes passwords on the computer, and, about to shut down, as an afterthought clicks on history. It is blank. Everything has been cleared, and since she is the only one to use this computer, the computer that is in the room in which Annabel has been sleeping, and she has definitely not cleared the history, she gets a plummeting feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Oh God. What has Annabel been looking at that she’s trying to hide?

Checking that Steve is still fast asleep—the less he knows about this the better, and there’s really no reason for him to know—Kit goes back down to the kitchen and softly shuts the door, picking up the phone and dialing a familiar number.

“Hey. It’s me. I need to talk to you in private . . . No, not on the phone. Is Annabel still with you? . . . Great. She can babysit. I’ll meet you in Starbucks in fifteen minutes, and don’t tell her you’re meeting me.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

A
dam does not feel good about this. Not that he ever had an affair while he was married, but now, as he climbs in the car and starts the engine, he realizes this must be what people feel like when their illicit affairs have been discovered.