My Husband's Wife (27 page)

‘Well, there’s not much I agree with Phil on, but in this case...’ He waved his hand in front of his nose before taking the seat in the middle of the sofa.

Rosie sat at the end and stretched her legs over his lap, the way she used to when they were teenagers, nestling against the wide arm, overjoyed to have her friend to talk to. She handed him the remains of the wine, which he swigged from the bottle.

‘Cheers!’ She raised her glass. ‘I’m sad because I’m afraid they’re going to take the girls away and send them to school in London!’

‘Mum mentioned it.’

‘What do you think?’ She balanced the wine glass on her lap and tied her hair into a knot.

Kev blew out his cheeks. ‘I think it’s bloody ridiculous. As if they’d want to be away from you, or vice versa. It’s just bonkers. I’m not saying anything about them spending time with their dad, I think they should, but I don’t see that just because a school is expensive, it makes it good. It’s just preposterous.’

She beamed. This time it was tears of gratitude and relief that fell. ‘Thank you, Kev. I knew you’d get it. I’ve been feeling guilty because I don’t want to hold them back, I
want
them to have good lives and all the things I didn’t have, but at the same time, they’re my babies and I want them close to me, you know?’

He nodded. ‘Yes, I do know.’

‘They’re all I’ve got! As if I’d want them to live anywhere but with me!’ She shook her head. ‘I love them so much, even being away from them for one night is like torture. I think about them all the time. Even when I close my eyes, I see them. Does that make sense?’

Kev stared at her and placed his free hand on her toes. ‘It makes perfect sense, Rosie Watson.’

There was a moment of quiet before he spoke again. ‘It’s the same for me.’

‘What’s the same for you?’ She sipped her plonk, confused, wondering if there were little Kevs roaming the planet that she was unaware of.

‘That’s how I feel about you.’ He looked straight at her, speaking without guile.

‘What do you mean?’ She gave a nervous laugh. With her booze filter in place, she wanted to make sure she had the right end of the stick.

‘I came back early from the BVI to see you. No other reason. I think about you all the time and I always have, since I was twelve. Since you first walked home with me and made me laugh.’

Rosie laughed. ‘Are you mucking around?’

‘No, I’m not.’ He spoke in a tone that was unfamiliar to her; earnest and calm, keen to be understood.

She screwed her face up.

He took a deep breath. ‘Okay. I’m just going to say it.’

‘Say what?’

‘I love you, I always have. And no girl at uni, no girl I’ve met anywhere else in the world has come close. Never has, never will. And I think if you let yourself, you could love me. I know it.’

She stared at him in silence.

‘I should have spoken up before, when Phil made his move, but I just wanted you to be happy, that’s how much I love you. You being happy is the single most important thing to me, and I thought that he might be the one to make that happen. I wanted you to have a family and all the support you never got from your mum. That’s why I went abroad, why I travel. I wasn’t about to interfere in your choices, but I sure as hell wasn’t prepared to hang around in the wings and watch the performance.’

Rosie thought about how she’d felt seeing Gerri in the car earlier, cosying up to her husband, her daughters. ‘I... I don’t know what to say.’

This was new territory for them both. They’d always been easy and open with each other, ever since they were kids. But Kev’s declaration had introduced a new strangeness.

‘I’m married to your brother!’

‘I had noticed.’

‘Why didn’t you ever say something to me?’

Kev gave a short burst of laughter. ‘Good God, Rosie! It was obvious to anyone who ever got within ten feet of us. Apart from you, apparently. Everyone knew!’

‘Did they?’ She thought of Mo, Mel, all of them.

‘Phil certainly did.’ Kev bit his bottom lip. ‘But that was him all over. I think he took you because he knew I loved you. I really believe that. He was a jealous bastard, didn’t like that I was the youngest, the one set for uni, the one with a plan. And when he stepped through that door and saw how I looked at you, it must have seemed easy.’

Rosie snatched her legs from his lap, planted her feet on the floor, jumped up and turned to face him.

‘How dare you say that, Kev? How can you talk about me as if I was a thing to be taken, owned! How can you cheapen my marriage, my existence like that?’ Her face was flushed now, her voice trembling. ‘That’s my kids’ dad you’re talking about! How d’you think Nay and Leo would feel, hearing that when they’re older? That my whole marriage, my whole family was just some bloody extension of a fight over a toy!’

Kev twisted on the sofa. His voice was quivering too. ‘That’s not what I’m saying! I don’t doubt he loved you when he married you and I know he loves the girls, I
do
know that. But I’m saying that of all the girls in the whole wide world that he could have picked, he chose the one that I loved and that was a shit trick.’ He stood up and placed his hand on the top of her arm. ‘This isn’t how I planned this moment and, believe me, I have thought about it a lot, millions of times. And I’m sorry you’re upset, that’s the last thing I wanted, obviously, because of the whole crying thing.’ He looked up at her. She wasn’t laughing; this was not one of those times when his humour could make things better. ‘But the fact remains that I love you, Rosie. It’s you. You’re the one.’

Rosie placed her face in her hands and closed her eyes. ‘What is wrong with you boys? Are all the Tipcott men fucking idiots? Have you any idea what you’re suggesting, what that would do to Mo and Keith? To Phil?’

‘Like his opinion counts now! He’s having a baby with another woman, for God’s sake! He did what he always does, whether it’s the army or working for Dad, or your marriage! He gets fed up, bored, has a change of heart, flips his mind and bails. He bins things. He’s always done it and he always will. So I’m sorry, but I don’t give a shit what he thinks!’

Rosie shrugged her arm free from his grip. ‘Just go, Kev. I really want you to leave.’

‘Can’t we talk about it?’ He stepped back.

‘There’s nothing to talk about! And the saddest thing is that everyone I thought I could rely on, everything and everyone that’s been a constant in my life, is slowly disappearing, one by one. Even you.’

‘I’m not going anywhere, ever.’

‘Don’t you get it? You’ve changed things, just when I needed it to be like it always was. I’d like you to you leave, please, Kev.’ She raised her voice. ‘Just leave me alone.’

‘All right. All right.’ He raised his palms and walked backwards out of the room. ‘I can’t help loving you, Rosie Watson. Trust me, my life would have been a whole lot easier if I didn’t love you. But that’s just the way it is. I always have loved you and I always will.’

Rosie turned her back to the door. She listened to him leave, then sank down on the sofa and buried her head under a cushion. Not for the first time, she wanted to disappear.

*

She woke with a headache woven from wine and confusion. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d slept on the sofa. Her neck ached and her eyes were bloodshot. One thing that remained crystal clear in her mind, however, was Kev’s revelation. She had always, always loved him, but in the way a best friend loves a best friend. Yes, there had been times in their teens when it had come close to being more, but those moments had always been punctured by some hilarity, split seconds of hesitation that were quickly filled with laughter rather than intimacy. Kev was the boy who chased her with seaweed, who put her on his shoulders and then fell over, head first, into the sand dunes. There had been no tender declarations of love, no thunderbolt moments of epiphany; they were simply the very best of friends. Or they used to be.

The way he had supported her and Phil, slapping his brother on the back at their wedding and jetting off as soon as he was able, had only reinforced her view that his feelings towards her were platonic.

Rosie soaked in a hot bubble bath and ate three slices of toast and jam. She began to feel better and decided to call him; it was the only way to stop any awkwardness between them, nip it in the bud.

Mo answered, her tone unnaturally curt.

‘Hey, Mo, it’s me!’

‘Yes, Rosie.’ She almost sighed her response.

Rosie wondered if she’d interrupted something. ‘Is this a bad time?’

‘No, go ahead.’

‘Is Kev there?’

‘No. No, he isn’t. He’s gone. Took the coach this morning. He’s flying from Exeter to Amsterdam, then New York and on to wherever.’

Rosie caught the irritation in her tone. ‘Is he coming back for Christmas?’

Mo took a deep breath. ‘Apparently not.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yes, oh. I have to go now. Speak soon.’ Her mother-in-law ended the call.

Rosie opened her mouth to say goodbye, but the line was already dead. She stared at the phone in her hand.

Grabbing her coat, she left the house, suddenly in need of some fresh air. It was a cold afternoon. The sky was clear and bright blue, the colour of summer, but the wind was definitely a winter wind, brisk and cutting, the kind that made her bones shake beneath her goose-bumped skin. Dipping her head, she walked headlong into it and made her way through the town and up around the Esplanade. One or two cars were parked on the clifftop, their occupants watching the wild, rolling sea from the comfort of their vehicles.

With her bench in sight, she quickened her pace. Reaching it, she sat and stared at the familiar view, the view that greeted her in all seasons and had done for nearly her whole life. She turned to her left, closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of apples.

‘So, Mum, it seems you’re the only person I’ve got left to talk to now. Ironic, isn’t it!’

She sniffed and stared at the horizon. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about Laurel’s letter, but she couldn’t bring herself to hate her mum, especially not now that everyone else seemed to be dropping like flies.

‘It’s been a really horrible week. I just can’t imagine being without the girls. How could Phil even—’

She stopped, swallowed her sobs and changed tack.

‘I just want to go forward now... So far forward that this is all behind me. You, more than most people, understand that, I know.’

Her mum nodded.

‘I’m getting there, Mum. But I can’t pretend it’s been easy. I used to think six months was the blink of an eye, in the scheme of things. But now I know that it’s a lifetime, a sentence. I’m only just coming up for air, learning how to breathe again.’

She took a deep breath as if to emphasise the point.

‘I’m sorry that I never met you, not in real life. I think you would have liked me, you know. I think I might have won you over. I hope so. I haven’t had a bad life, not at all. But it feels like everything is slipping away. And now Kev; he was my one good thing, my friend, since I was little. I’ve messed it up. The things he said... I can’t think about it, can’t consider the possibility that Phil only wanted me because Kev did. The truth is, I don’t know what to believe any more. But I do know I’m fed up of feeling this sad.’

It was getting dark as she made her way back to Arlington Road and she noticed that all the lights were on in the house next door and the telltale Mercedes estate was parked outside. The von Trapps were down for the weekend. She felt her tears welling again as she recalled how Naomi had shared her honest opinion on rice cakes, the little devil.

Desperate not to allow herself to dwell on thoughts of possible legal battles ahead and the inconceivable prospect of not having the kids with her three hundred and sixty-five days a year, Rosie lit a couple of apple-scented candles, switched on the telly and stretched out on the sofa. She reluctantly answered the call from Phil, not wanting to hear his voice, but was delighted and relieved to hear Leona on the other end of the phone.

‘Mummy, I have teached Truffle a trick!’

‘Oh my goodness! What did you teach him?’

‘I put my biscuit on the floor...’

Rosie pictured the pale marble surfaces and white carpets and wondered quite where it might be appropriate to lay a biscuit.

‘I tell him to stay and then I walk over to the biscuit and pat my legs and call him and he runs up and I give him the biscuit!’ Leo sounded delighted with both herself and Truffle, and Rosie glowed with the knowledge that her daughter was bursting to share this incredible feat with her.

‘Wow! That’s marvellous and really clever of you, Leo. I love you.’

As if I would let this precious girl go and live miles away and go to a posh school where it would be someone else waiting at the gates for her every afternoon. London! That is never going to happen. She has taken Phil, but my girls...? Never.

‘Love you too. I got to go now!’ Leo ended the call.

The familiar feelings of love, guilt, pride and jealousy bubbled inside her. She wondered if it would always be that way. She loved hearing her daughter so happy, of course, but that was quickly replaced by a flare of anger at Leo being in that woman’s house. And then came an overwhelming loneliness at the realisation that she had absolutely no one to discuss it with. She thought again of Kev.

To distract herself, she decided to go and get ready for bed. Then she’d come back down, make herself some cocoa and slob out on the sofa until she couldn’t keep her eyes open any more. She left the telly on and the candles burning on the windowsill but decided to draw the curtains in front of them – she couldn’t face Mummy von Trapp peering in at her sad and solitary Saturday night.

Wearily, she trod the stairs to her bedroom. After changing into her pyjama bottoms and an oversized T-shirt, she lay down briefly on the bed, gathering her strength to get on with the rest of her evening. She placed her hand on the pillow where Phil had laid his head so many nights and once again gave way to the tears that were never that far from the surface. Within minutes, she had sobbed herself into a fitful doze.