sUnwanted Truthst (27 page)

Jenny parked on the narrow road that encircled the green. Cricket stumps bent towards her as a gust of wind blew. She walked back towards the main road that separated the two halves of the village.
I'll cross over and walk towards Lewes first
, she thought. She passed a line of detached houses that lay back from the road, Sunnyside; Holly Tree Cottage; Well Cottage.
Why on earth do they call enormous houses like these cottages
. At the end of the row a post box edged the footpath. Behind it was the Post Office and general store. Alongside stood a Victorian detached house divided into two; the bricks advertising its age. No. 1 Blacksmith Cottages was written roughly on a wooden gate. Beside the second semi was a low wooden building. A sign hung from the guttering, B. Goble – Hand Made Furniture.
That looks as if it was the forge
, she thought, picturing shire horses waiting patiently to be shod.
At least these are proper cottages
. Checking that there was no sign of Martin's Land Rover, Jenny approached until level with the gate. She stood and stared. The house had two floors, with a dormer window poking through the roof. The paintwork was a freshly-painted sage green. The rooms looked small.
It must have been strange for them moving here after a large house
. A pair of muddy wellington boots stood in the porch. She turned round. There was a lane opposite, tunnelled by overhanging trees, she decided to drive there and wait.

Jenny raised her binoculars. A dark-haired boy on a bicycle skidded to a halt by the gate. Leaning his bike on the hedge, he rushed up the brick path and opened the front door.
That must be Daniel
. Five minutes later the boy emerged. Jenny raised her binoculars again, and staring hard, took in his every feature. He was a miniature version of Martin – the same straight floppy hair – she felt that she knew him already. He had changed from his school uniform into jeans and a black tee-shirt. He held a can of coke in one hand and was biting on what appeared to be a chocolate bar. There was a screech of brakes. A fair-haired boy on a bicycle shouted something to Daniel. She heard him reply, ‘Let's go.' He threw the can on the grass and, leaving the gate open, whipped his bike around, stood on the pedals and chased his friend up the road.
It's strange
, Jenny thought,
how Martin and I talk about our children, but never our partners. That's too painful
.

She checked her watch – four twenty. Marilyn should be home soon. She rummaged in her handbag and found a piece of ginger cake in a plastic bag. She was about to bite into it when a small blue car stopped in the middle of the road and turned into the gap between the old forge and Martin's house. Jenny dropped the cake. Crumbs of gingerbread fell over her skirt as she grabbed the binoculars. A woman stepped out, wearing a pink blouse.
She's got blonde hair, blonde straight hair
, Jenny thought. She appeared tall – taller than herself – and well built. The woman stared at Jenny's car as she walked to the back of her car.
She's attractive, but why wouldn't she be? Martin married her. What was I expecting – some harridan?
The woman removed her shopping from the boot and walked towards the small gate. She stopped to pick up the coke can and stepped inside the porch. Jenny wondered about the nature of attraction.
Everyone says that opposites attract; but that article the other day said we're attracted to people like ourselves. She certainly doesn't look like Martin. Perhaps the opposite theory is correct? Perhaps he really fancies blondes, and is only seeing me because I'm so keen. He wouldn't turn it down, would he?
She brushed the crumbs from her skirt and started the engine. It would take at least thirty minutes to drive back. She felt a stab of guilt. It was Lorna's first day at her new school and she wouldn't be back in time to welcome her home.

*

‘Where's my clean white shirt?' Robert's voice carried down the stairs.

‘Oh, the interview,' Jenny muttered, as she stopped searching through the bookcase. She went upstairs into the spare room and rescued a shirt from the bottom of the washing pile.

Robert was standing in front of his open wardrobe, swishing coat hangers to and fro.

‘It was in the spare room drying. I'll iron it for you now.'

‘I wanted to get to bed early. You know how important tomorrow is for me; for all of us. If I do well I could be in line for promotion. You know what that would mean.'

‘Yes, I know what that means; your mother's mentioned it enough times; bloody private school. To hear her talk anyone would think we're sending them to a remand home. It's a perfectly good school that gets excellent exam results. Lorna's happy there, she doesn't want to change schools.'

‘And what about Nicky?' Robert said, facing her.

‘What about Nicky? We can't send one without the other. It wouldn't be fair. Anyway it's all academic, if you'll excuse the pun. You haven't even got a promotion yet.'

‘I'm not likely to get it either, if I don't get any support from you,' Robert raised his voice.

‘I've always supported you. You know I have.'

‘You used to.'

‘I still do. I've come up to iron your shirt, haven't I?'

‘I reminded you earlier, it's a bit late now.'

‘For God's sake, of course it isn't. I'm going to do it, aren't I?' Jenny yelled as she dragged the ironing board out from the side of the wardrobe. ‘I saw a job in the Argus last week that I thought I might apply for,' she hadn't meant to tell Robert yet, but couldn't resist saying it.

‘What on earth are you telling me that now for? Anyway, what would you do about the school holidays?'

Trust him to say something negative,
she thought as she bent down and slammed the plug into the socket. She had told Martin about it the evening before as they were walking back to the visitor's centre. He had encouraged her to apply.

‘Well I'll worry about that if I get the job. I'm sure something can be worked out. It isn't a full week anyway, just a few hours more than I'm doing now. The job sounds interesting, and it has prospects.'

‘Prospects – what do you want prospects for? You won't have time, especially now your class is carrying on. You're always saying how tired you are – especially at bedtime.'

‘I can fit everything in.'

‘Everything except me,' he snapped.

‘What's that supposed to mean?' Jenny stopped ironing and turned to face him

‘You know bloody well what I mean. I'm fed up with your excuses. Mum said how fed up I looked at the weekend. You hadn't noticed. You don't notice anything anymore. You're so sodding distant.'

‘That's a miracle, her noticing, she's usually only concerned about herself, or David of course.' She knew she had struck a raw nerve.

‘Don't speak about my mother like that.'

‘She's a selfish cow.'

‘And you're not, I suppose.'

‘Mummy, Daddy, why are you shouting?' Nicky stood in the doorway rubbing his eyes.

‘Ask your mother.'

‘I hate it when you argue.'

‘Go back to bed Nicky, it's nothing,' Robert said ushering him out of the door. ‘See what you've done now.'

‘I'll go to him.' Jenny stood the iron on the metal arm. ‘Nicky it's alright. Get back to bed and I'll tuck you in.'

‘Daddy doesn't like me.' His serious face looked up from the pillow.

‘That's not true. Of course he does. He's not angry with you. He's angry with me.' Jenny smoothed her son's tousled hair.

‘But he shouted at me yesterday, when I asked to help him with the railway. And he didn't kiss me goodnight. He's never missed before.'

‘Daddy's got a lot on his mind at the moment; to do with his job. It's nothing to do with you Nicky.'

‘Simon's dad doesn't live at home any more. He said his parents are getting a diverce.'

‘A divorce.'

‘He hit me in the playground, and he doesn't ask me to his house any more.'

‘He's probably upset about his parents. That's why he hit you. You could ask him back here. I'm sure he still wants to play with you.'

‘Will Daddy leave us?'

‘Come here.' Jenny reached over and lifted her son into her arms. She buried her face in his hair, and breathed deeply. It smelt of lemons. ‘Daddy isn't leaving.'

‘They offered me the job,' Jenny said grinning at Martin as she opened her car door.

‘Well done. I knew you'd get it,' he said, bending to kiss her. ‘Let's go over to the Golden Galleon for a drink to celebrate. I could do with a burger. I didn't have time for much earlier.' He locked the Land Rover and they began the short walk across the Cuckmere valley.

‘So where's this job again?'

‘In central Brighton, with a firm called Wiley, Smart & Lyneham; I'll be helping the cashier to start with, so I can get to know how their system works. Then, later, I can have my own probate cases. It will be a mixture of accounting and law; four days a week, nine thirty to four. I can even choose my days – not Tuesdays of course,' she added, ‘and I can reduce my days in the holidays if I want to, without pay, of course, but I don't mind that, brilliant, isn't it?'

‘Yes, it sounds fantastic.' Martin put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards him. ‘Congratulations.'

‘The only downside is I've got to tell Celia.'

*

Later that evening as they sat in his office, Martin reached for her hand.

‘I can't meet you next week Jenny. It's half term, I always take a week off then, and in the spring half term. It's too busy for me to have any time off in the summer.'

‘Are you going away?'

‘Yes, we're going to Cornwall. We'll call on Marilyn's parents at Fordingbridge on the way down, and again on the way back, so Daniel can see his grandparents.'

Jenny winced.

‘Marilyn's booked this hotel in Bude. We're thinking of arranging some windsurfing lessons for Daniel when we get there. I'm hoping it might improve his behaviour. He's been bloody hard work lately. He won't do anything we ask him. It's his age I suppose.' He stroked her hand.

Jenny winced again. She didn't hear his concerns about Daniel. She heard only the words ‘Marilyn' and ‘hotel'. She saw them relaxing, with time on their hands, sharing a room, sharing a bed. Blood rushed to her head.

‘That's nice for you, plenty of time with your wife.' She pulled her hand away.

‘Jenny, Jenny, you know how I feel about you.'

‘No I don't,' she said. ‘I only know you like doing… what we've been doing here.'

‘That's unfair; you went on holiday with Robert in August, didn't you?'

‘That's different. It's different for me; you don't understand.'

‘I love you.'

‘Not enough to leave your wife for.' She had said the words that she had promised herself she would never say to him.

‘Jenny, the only reason I haven't asked you to be with me all the time is because it's too important. I didn't think you wanted that – to leave your marriage. I couldn't ask you to do that; to do that for me. I could only take what you've been willing to give me.'

Jenny felt calmer and reached for his hand.

‘Well, do you then, want to leave Robert?' He stared at her, his eyes glistening like coals.

‘I'm not sure, Martin.'

‘So, I was right then.'

*

‘Hope you didn't mind coming into Brighton,' said Gail, as Jenny met her at the entrance to the Imperial Arcade.

‘No, of course not, it's easier than Hove for me. I'm sorry it was a bit short notice.'

‘That's alright; it's just that I have to squeeze all my clothes shopping into half term week. I'm going into Marks after we've eaten,' said Gail.

‘We've got a good hour to spare. I've left Lorna and Nicky at the ice-rink in Queen's Square.'

‘Let's go into this café then. They do good lunches. You're looking amazing, Jenny, have you lost weight?'

‘Yes, that's one of the reasons I asked if we could meet up.'

‘One of the reasons?' Gail's face dropped. ‘You're not ill are you?'

‘No, thank goodness; at least, not in the way you mean. Anyway, tell me about you first. How are you?'

‘Tired, but good, I'm always exhausted by the end of half term. It takes me at least three days to recover, but I love teaching. I'm still seeing Gerry, my new man. I did tell you about him, didn't I? It's been nearly twelve months now; how about that? And he gets on with Mark and Vicky.'

‘That's brilliant Gail. I'm really pleased for you.' Jenny cast her eyes over the menu as the waitress approached, ‘I'll have the leek and potato soup and a brown roll, please.'

‘Same for me, only with a white roll,' Gail leaned across the table. ‘So, come on, tell me, I'm intrigued, why have you lost weight?'

‘You know the last time I saw you, I mentioned that I had seen Martin Barretti again.'

‘Oh, I asked Mum if she had heard anything about them coming back. She said she hadn't – thank you,' Gail unwrapped the paper napkin from around her spoon as the waitress placed the bowl on the table.

Jenny did the same but instead of dipping her spoon in the soup took a deep breath. ‘I've been seeing him.'

‘Seeing him – what meeting up?'

‘Yes.'

‘On your own?' Gail's soup spoon remained suspended in mid-air as she digested Jenny's words instead of her food.

‘Yes.'

‘What, you mean you're having an affair?' Gail's eyes doubled in size.

‘Yes.'

‘My God, I'd never have thought that. What about Robert? You are still together?'

‘Yes, but things aren't good. That's why I needed to talk to you.'

‘Go on then.' Her spoon was still halfway between her bowl and her mouth.

‘Gail, I really love him – Martin – I mean. I've never felt this way about anyone before. I'm so attracted to him physically. The sex is fantastic, but it's not only that, if it was, I could say it's just lust, wonderful of course,' she laughed, ‘but after a while it would burn itself out and we would realise we had nothing in common. It would still rock my marriage, but I would see sense. But I feel so close to him in every way. He completes me. If he has a pain, or a worry, I feel it too. It's getting harder and harder to leave him after we meet, and I'm really jealous of his wife now. I hate being like that. I used to despise women who were possessive, but now I understand, because I'm just the same. It's affected my marriage. I don't want Robert – physically – anymore.'

‘Yes, I suppose it would.' Gail's mouth remained slightly open.

‘I want to be with him all the time, but I can't leave Lorna and Nicky. I can't do that to them. They're everything to me – but in a different way to Martin.' Jenny had never told Gail about her adoption, and didn't want to complicate matters by mentioning it now. She remembered how twenty years earlier, a tearful Gail had asked her for advice.

‘Does he want to be with you all the time, or is he happy to keep things as they are? You know what men are like. Having their cake and eating it. They can do that.'

‘I know, but he feels the same. I try not to mention Robert, and he doesn't mention Marilyn – that's his wife. But last week he told me they were going on holiday. It's stupid really. I mean we went on holiday in August. But something snapped. I said something I regretted. I couldn't help myself. But he understood why I said it. He said he loved me and would leave her, if that's what I wanted. If it was just her and Robert to consider I would leave. I don't feel guilty about them. Perhaps I should, but I don't. It's Lorna and Nicky, and he's got a boy, he's thirteen. The thing is, I know that if I carry on meeting him, it will destroy us. I can see that clearly now. I must have been really stupid and naïve not to have realised that. But even if I had, I don't think it would have stopped me. I wanted him so much, and that overrode everything.'

‘Oh my God Jenny, I don't know what to say.' Gail finally lowered her spoon into her soup.

‘Yes, I'd better eat mine before it gets cold.'

They ate in silence for a minute. Then after wiping her mouth, Gail said, ‘All I know is that, half, no more than half now, of the children in my class come from broken homes. I know it's common these days, but it does affect them; some more than others. One little girl refused to speak for a whole term. I can't talk though, can I? Excuse the pun. I left Chris didn't I?'

‘Yes, but you had good reason to leave. I don't. Robert's a good husband and father. If it wasn't for Martin we would still be rubbing along fine.'

‘That doesn't sound very exciting – rubbing along.'

‘Well that's what married couples do, don't they, after several years together?'

‘If it hadn't been Martin, it might have been someone else?'

‘No, I don't think so. I'd have flirted with an attractive man, of course I would. Perhaps it would have gone further. But it would have been under control. Perhaps it's because I knew him from years ago. Perhaps it's because I've just lost my parents, sometimes these things affect you in ways you don't expect.'

‘I don't know what to say. Jenny, I can't advise you. It's too important. It has to be your decision.'

‘I know, but just talking it over with you helps. You're the only person I've spoken to about it. Anyway enough about me, is Gerry still going to stand for the council?'

‘Yes, and guess what, so am I. Gerry is really supportive. We've talked about buying a house together in the New Year. We're taking it slowly because of the children. I can't risk another mistake. At least I know what I'm letting myself in for this time.'

‘Older and wiser, eh, that doesn't seem to apply to me.'