Love Is a Secret (26 page)

Against all her better instincts, she faced him. ‘What do you want, Mark?’

‘I think we both know the answer to that, Caroline.’

His lips felt the same, and she responded hungrily. So
good
. And so right. Then, before she could register what he was doing, he sank to his knees . . .

Something – someone – had taken her over, making her do things she hadn’t known she could. It was like discovering a room in her body that she had never been into.

He stopped briefly. ‘You’re beautiful, Caroline, so beautiful.’

The amazing thing was that she actually felt it, even though she knew it wasn’t true. Arching her back, she heard herself cry out with pleasure. Suddenly, she saw herself from above. In just a few seconds, she had been transformed into someone she hadn’t realised she could be.

And now there was no going back.

41

He had only meant to talk – kiss her at most. That was what he’d told himself last night as he’d almost run down the corridor to her room. But he’d been unable to stop himself.

He’d tried to explain that when she’d woken in his arms. He’d stroked her back – such a beautiful shape – as he’d watched her open her eyes and remember, with a start, where she was.

‘It’s all right,’ he’d said, kissing her forehead. ‘You’re here. With me.’

She’d sat up, holding the sheet over her breasts. ‘I shouldn’t have.’

She’d started to cry then and he had held her to his chest. Pointless to say that what they had done had been inevitable, that the urge had been too strong almost from the minute they’d met.

All of this was true but they had committed adultery. An old-fashioned word, which many people no longer took seriously. But it mattered to him and he knew it mattered to her.

Now guilt was sweeping over him, making him pay. Even worse, he had lied to Caroline. He hadn’t stayed overnight to see his client this morning, but because he had to visit his wife.

The prison building rose before him like a massive red-brick hospital. He went into the visitors’ coffee bar. This bit wasn’t so bad. You could almost kid yourself that it was a normal café, except that more than the usual quota of people in hoodies, multiple earrings and trainers were around. There were lockers round the sides for bags, and a mother in front of him was trying to cram in a holdall, cursing violently because it wouldn’t fit. He hadn’t been here since last month at Hilary’s insistence. ‘Don’t come next week,’ she had said coldly. ‘Or the one after.’

One or two people were straggling out of the room towards the visitors’ centre. A man of about his age was looking around nervously. Probably new. Mark had felt like that the first time, he remembered, as he took his place in the queue. The man had two teenagers, both older than Florrie. One had a mobile glued to his ear and the other was kicking a Diet Coke can along the floor.

Normal teenagers in abnormal circumstances.

Initially he hadn’t been sure that Hilary was right to insist the children shouldn’t know, and when he had seen other kids there, he’d wondered again if they were doing the right thing in keeping it from them.

The queue shuffled forwards. The woman with the baby was taking off its nappy in front of the prison officer.

‘Why’s she doing that?’ asked the man with the teenagers.

‘Checking for drugs,’ said Mark, quietly. A woman with a very short haircut examined Mark’s visitor’s pass. Her hands were thick – almost like a man’s.

‘Get a move on, Kieran,’ whined a woman behind him. A picture of Caroline floated into his head. Already, the memory of her soft skin seemed unreal. What would she say if she was here?

What would Hilary say if she knew about her?

He followed the teenagers into the visitors’ centre. Formica tables were placed round the room with chairs. Red for prisoners. Black for visitors. Hilary was sitting in the corner. She was staring straight ahead, lank hair tied back. She was wearing an ill-fitting blouse and loose skirt. She must have lost more weight. Her eyes stared straight ahead – had they upped her medication again? – and she didn’t look at him as he brushed her cheek with his lips. As usual, she failed to respond.

Mark sat down, trying to ignore the uniformed officers who flanked the room. One was very close.

‘Hilary, how are you doing?’ Such a stupid question. ‘Hilary, look at me, please. I’ve brought some pictures of the children.’

Slowly, she held out her hand to take them. She examined each one carefully, still without a word. Then she pushed them back across the table.

‘Don’t you want to keep them?’

She shook her head.

‘Why not?’

‘Someone will tear them up.’ Her voice was so low, he could barely hear it. ‘Or piss on them.’

She’d never used words like that before she’d come here.

‘Can’t you complain?’

Another shake of her head.

‘I’ve brought you some books.’

She took them, without looking at the titles.

‘It’s not long now.’ He tried to say ‘darling’ but it wouldn’t come out. ‘Just another two months.’

She was looking behind him again, as though she had noticed something on the blank wall.

‘Please, Hilary. Please say something.’

‘Go.’

At first he thought he hadn’t heard her properly. ‘Sorry?’

‘
Go.
’ She stood up, sweeping the books off the table with her arm. ‘
Go away, Mark. Go away.
’

Everyone was staring at them. The teenagers who’d been in front of him in the queue were at the next table. One was still fiddling with the empty can.

‘Don’t be silly, Hilary,’ he said calmly. ‘I understand you’re upset but we can still talk.’

‘
Go away.
’

Two officers marched over to them. ‘I didn’t say anything to upset her,’ said Mark. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Back you go,’ said one, holding Hilary’s arm.

‘But time’s not up,’ said Mark, panicking.

‘Any disturbances and you’re out. That’s the rule. This way.’

‘’Bye, Hilary, see you next week.’

Hilary pulled away from the officer. ‘No. I don’t want to see you next week. I don’t want to see you until I’m out of this place. Understand?’

He nodded. It was the longest sentence she had uttered since he had been there. But what would happen when she
was
out?

And where would it leave him and Caroline?

42

The first thing she did after she left the hotel was find a chemist. She had never been into it before – a rather smart one off Marylebone High Street. Mark had been careful but she had felt the familiar ovulation twangs this morning, warning her that she was in her fertile period, and she wasn’t taking any chances.

Deep breath. Had to be done.

‘Do you sell the morning-after pill?’ she had asked the young assistant, trying to sound as though she was asking for sticking plasters.

Georgie had been right. It was easy. Not cheap – how did teenagers afford it? – but straightforward.

Then she’d taken a taxi home, unable to face the early Christmas shopping she’d been intending to do. She had made love to another man. She could still feel him inside her. Why did it seem so right when it was clearly so wrong?

‘I love you,’ he had said at the door of her room, when he had left this morning. ‘I know it sounds crazy after such a short time but I really do.’

She felt the same. It was the way they could talk about anything for ever. The way her insides were melting as she made her way up the path and into the house, glimpsing Roger’s briefcase in the hall. Not home already, surely?

‘Hi.’ He gave her a perfunctory peck on the cheek. His touch made her recoil. ‘How was the ball?’

‘OK. I didn’t expect you back until later.’

‘One of the speakers cancelled.’ Roger yawned without bothering to put up his hand. ‘Quite a relief, actually, because it gives me a full day at home. Feel like going to the cinema tonight? Georgie’s announced she’s got another sleepover so we don’t need to find a sitter.’

‘I’m not sure.’ She turned her back on him so that she didn’t have to see his eyes and pretended to search for something in her bag. She felt so different that it must surely be apparent in her face that something had happened.

‘Well, think about it.’ Roger disappeared into the kitchen. ‘Want a coffee?’ he called.

‘Not yet.’ She ran up the stairs. ‘Maybe in a few minutes.’

She locked herself into the bathroom and sat down on the closed loo lid. For so long now she had made herself believe she could revive her marriage. But now that Mark had shown her what it
should
be like, she had to confront the truth. She and Roger were dead.

Hardly knowing why, she lay down on the bathroom carpet, eyes closed. Remembering. Pretending he was there. Her entire body ached for him. She wanted Mark now, inside her. She wanted to feel his skin, his tongue, his hands, which had played her body in a way no one ever had before.

It was almost amusing. Here she was, on the wrong side of forty-five, and she had only now discovered what sex was really like. How could she ever have confused it with Roger’s fumbling?

There was a knock at the door. ‘Ready for coffee now?’

‘Coming.’

Downstairs, she began numbly to prepare lunch. The house was deathly quiet without Georgie. Did she really want to spend the rest of her life in a silent house with a man she couldn’t talk to?

No.
No
. He’d brought her flowers. Stargazer lilies, lying innocently on the kitchen table, beautifully tied with pink ribbon. She picked them up. ‘Thanks.’

‘What?’ Roger was sitting down with the paper. ‘Oh, yes. Those. Well, I know you like them.’

A vision of the flower stall came back to her. ‘Where did you get them?’

‘The station. Why?’

‘I didn’t think it sold them.’

Roger turned the page. ‘I’ve been getting off at Kentish Town recently. I like the exercise.’

The smell of the lilies made her feel heady as she snipped off the long stamens so the pollen wouldn’t stain anyone’s clothes.

Roger, I’ve slept with someone else.

That was what she ought to tell him. That was what he should have told her before she’d found out, but he’d been too scared of the consequences.

As, now, was she.

She kept her mobile with her all through the weekend in the back pocket of her jeans. If he rang, she’d tell Roger it was a work call. To his annoyance, she sometimes had to interview people at weekends. Suddenly, the connection between mobile phones and marriage break-ups, which she’d read about with a degree of moral righteousness, seemed poignantly apt.

By Sunday evening, the need to hear Mark’s voice was agonising. Why hadn’t he called? Did he regret what had happened? Did he assume she was the kind of woman who was accustomed to extramarital affairs?

‘Can I use your mobile, Mum?’

Georgie had come up behind her stealthily. Caroline jumped. ‘No. I’m expecting a call.’

‘Who?’

‘Annabel.’

‘She’ll call the house phone.’

‘She can’t. Ben’s on it. For God’s sake, Georgie, use your own.’

‘I can’t. I’ve run out of credit.’

‘There’s no need to snap,’ said Roger. ‘Use mine, if you like, Georgie. But be quick. Another glass of wine, Caro?’

‘No.’

Roger was right. She was snapping just like he had in the months before she had found out about him and that woman.

‘Can we go shopping during the week, Mum? You said I could get some new jeans. And there are loads of parties coming up before Christmas – I need tops too.’

Christmas? She couldn’t take that. Not if she had to share it with someone she didn’t love.

‘I’ll take you,’ said Roger, smoothly.

Georgie hugged him. ‘Thanks, Dad, that would be great. You’re the best.’

By Tuesday, Mark still hadn’t called. Caroline could hardly eat, yet had a constant craving for sweet tea. She’d been taken in, stupidly, by a man who’d had the hots for her because his own wife, poor woman, wasn’t available. At tennis that week, though, she laid her own mobile beside the others. It rang as she and Jill were winning the first game.

‘Sorry. Must get that. Won’t be a second.’

Private number
.

Her heart leaped. ‘Hello?’

‘It’s Mark. Look, I’m sorry I haven’t been able to phone. It’s been manic. Hilary’s been ill and I had to farm out the kids so I could go and see her.’

‘What kind of ill?’

‘She cut herself again. With a knife she’d stolen from the kitchen when she was on vegetable duty.’

‘How awful.’

Ginny and the others were muttering by the net; Ginny in particular was talking furiously in low, hushed tones.

‘Look, I just wanted to say that Friday was amazing.’

Relief washed over her as she turned away from the other women, towards the car park. ‘I feel the same.’

‘I need to see you again, but it’s difficult with the children and Hilary.’

‘I understand.’

‘I’ll ring as soon as I can. OK?’

‘OK.’

‘I love you, Caroline.’

‘Me too.’ The words were out of her mouth before she could take them back.

He’d gone.

‘Sorry.’ She walked back to the others unsteadily. ‘A work call I couldn’t get out of.’

In the bath that night she slipped off her wedding ring and laid it on the side. It came off easily, as though those twenty-two years counted for nothing. Only when she had dried herself, did she put it back on. But her hands were hot from the bath water and the ring stuck at her knuckle. She had to push it down. For a few seconds, it seemed as though it wouldn’t go and her heart thudded at the thought of the questions Roger would ask. Then it moved back to its old place, weighing down her finger, weighing down her soul.