The Accidental Wife (33 page)

‘Was Eloise’s mummy sad?’ Gemma asked, frowning slightly.

‘I think she was sad,’ Marc said. ‘And a bit cross.’

‘And are they still not friends even now?’ Gemma asked him. ‘That’s a long time not to be friends. I wasn’t friends with Emily Shawcross once for two weeks at our old school. That was the longest time I’ve never not been friends with someone.’ She looked concerned as a thought suddenly occurred to her.

‘Mummy, this doesn’t mean I won’t be able to be friends with Ellie, does it?’

‘No, of course not.’ Alison looked crossly at Marc but he only winked at her. Dominic was not here, the food was spoiling and Marc was doing his level best to rattle her, for what purpose she could not imagine except to try to exert some power over her. Well, she had some news she knew would shut him up.

‘Everything will be fine because I’m going to see Eloise’s mum, and hopefully after we’ve had a good talk about things, we’ll make up then.’

‘When?’ Marc sat up in his chair. ‘When are you seeing her?’

‘Tomorrow,’ Alison said. ‘Amazingly the one friend I’ve made since we moved here is her next-door neighbour. She’s invited us both round to dinner. You don’t mind babysitting, do you?’

‘And Catherine’s fine about that?’ Marc asked her, his brow furrowed.

‘Yes, clearly she is, otherwise Kirsty would have told me by now,’ Alison replied, smiling at the girls. ‘So by Sunday
morning
everything will be straightened out. It will be nice, actually, after all these years.’ She looked at Marc. ‘After all, I knew her before I knew your dad. I miss her.’

‘You can do make up, make up, never, never break up, Mama,’ Amy suggested.

‘And things will go back to how they were before you knew me,’ Marc said, his face closed.

‘I doubt that very much,’ Alison said, keeping her voice light as she watched him.

‘Where’s Dom?’ Amy said, looking anxiously out at the cloud-heavy sky.

‘I’m here,’ Dom said, sauntering in through the back door. The smell of stale cigarette smoke drifted in with him along with a girl, as thin as a blade, with a curtain of black hair that revealed only one kohl-blackened eye and an ear that had been pierced several times. She seemed to be holding Dominic’s hand, although Alison couldn’t conclusively tell because her sleeves were pulled well past the tips of her fingers, as were his.

‘This is Ciara,’ Dom announced. ‘I’ve brought her home for dinner, like you said, Mum.’

Alison pressed her lips together, balancing her irritation with the need to get through this dinner unscathed. Yes, she had told Dominic to bring his friends home, but she had foolishly hoped that he might give her some notice. At least a guest would diffuse some of the tension, Alison hoped. Marc was always at his most charming in front of strangers.

‘Hello, Ciara,’ Alison said, still coming to terms with the sight of her son possibly holding hands with a girl. ‘How lovely that Dom’s brought you home. Have you told your parents? Would you like me to ring them?’

‘I’ve told them, thanks, Mrs James,’ Ciara said, producing a mobile from her pocket and waving it, with one fingerless gloved hand. ‘Thank you very much for having me.’

‘My pleasure.’ Alison smiled warmly at the girl, who sounded much nicer than she looked. ‘Gemma, set another place at the table, please.’

‘So, Ciara,’ Marc smiled at the young girl as she sat down next to Dom. ‘Do you go to Rock Club too?’

‘Yes,’ Ciara said, tossing her hair back off her shoulder and revealing quite a pretty face. ‘I do vocal, mainly, but I’m learning to play the bass too because Mr Ashley says that versatility is key in the industry. You’ve got to have a USP.’

‘Everybody needs a USP,’ Marc agreed. ‘Dom loves his guitar, don’t you, Dom? Sometimes he actually sleeps with it.’

Ciara looked at the table and smiled, raising her finely plucked brows.

‘I don’t sleep with it,’ Dominic said, glowering at his father. ‘Sometimes I fall asleep playing it, because I’m always playing it. It’s the only fucking thing to do in this shit-hole of a town.’

Ciara breathed in sharply, this time her eyes wide with awe.

‘Dominic.’ Alison slammed a pan down and stared at her son.

Dominic returned her gaze.

‘You never ever use those words in front of your sisters,’ she said, her voice low, noting how Marc was doing nothing. Marc always did nothing about his son until a situation reached crisis point. ‘I treat you like an adult when you behave like one. So don’t show off just because you’ve got a friend here. Don’t make me embarrass you.’

‘Which words were bad words, Mummy?’ Amy asked as Alison set two plates of food in front of Gemma and Amy.

‘Never you mind,’ Alison said. ‘I’m sure Ciara doesn’t use that kind of language, do you, Ciara?’

‘I don’t, actually,’ Ciara said. ‘I think the use of swearwords demeans and cheapens one. It makes us look weak and ineffectual.’

Marc laughed out loud, making the girls giggle too.

Dominic sat perfectly still in his chair, his hands on the table, tapping his chipped black nails on the surface.

‘So are you two an item then?’ Marc asked Ciara as Alison gave them each a plate of food. Dominic chewed the inside of his cheek furiously.

‘We’ve hooked up a few times,’ Ciara said quite calmly.

‘Young love is so sweet,’ Marc said, causing Alison to shoot him a warning glance that he deflected with a shrug. ‘Well, it is, at your age. It’s nice, uncomplicated.’

‘We’re not in love, right?’ Dom said, looking at Ciara, who merely shrugged in agreement. ‘Look, Mum, I thought I’d bring a friend home for dinner. I thought you’d like that. I didn’t think she’d get the third degree. From
him
.’ He jabbed a nod in the direction of his father.

‘I don’t mind actually,’ Ciara told him. ‘I’m quite good with parents.’

‘I mind. It’s none of his business,’ Dom said. He got up and went to the fridge. ‘Do you want a drink?’ he asked Ciara.

‘Please,’ she said. When Dom sat back down he set two bottles of beer in front of him and the girl.

‘Cool,’ Ciara said, picking hers up and taking a swig straight out of the bottle.

‘I don’t think so.’ Alison reached over and picked up the bottles. ‘Look, Ciara, I’m sorry, but we don’t let Dom drink alcohol at home. I know he’s probably trying to impress you but I’m not sending you home to your mother with beer on your breath. I don’t condone underage drinking.’

‘That’s OK, Mrs James,’ Ciara said politely. ‘Although actually once you’re fifteen you can legally drink in the home, if your parents allow it. My parents let me have a glass of wine with Sunday lunch because they feel that if I am familiar with alcohol I’m less likely to go overboard and binge on it when I’m unsupervised.’

‘Really,’ Alison said, sitting back down with a jug of orange juice. ‘Well, if you’d like to give me your mother’s number I’ll ring her and ask her if she minds if you have a glass of wine with your meal.’

‘That’s OK, Mrs James,’ Ciara said. ‘Juice is fine by me.’

All, bar the three girls, who fought the tension bravely with chatter, were silent at the table. Gemma asked Ciara about all of her earrings, and Amy quizzed her on her make-up. Alison felt surprisingly grateful for the girl, who fielded her daughters’ questions with good grace and didn’t seem to mind that the boy who had invited her over was silent and sullen. Perhaps that was what she liked about him, Alison found herself wondering. Perhaps to her he seemed mysterious and misunderstood.

She was deep in thought, trying to imagine how her son must appear to teenage eyes that she was completely unprepared for what happened next.

‘This is fucking joke,’ Dominic said under his breath.

It took Alison a second to register what he had said. ‘Dom,’ she warned him, ‘one more word and you’ll go to your room, and Ciara will have to go home.’

‘Oh, come on, Mum,’ Dominic said, shoving his untouched plate away from him. ‘Admit it. We’re sitting round the table on so-called “family night” and it means nothing, there’s no family here. It’s a fucking joke and you know it. This isn’t a family, it’s a sham.’

‘Dom! Stop it, stop it! Mummy, make him stop!’ Amy said, covering her ears, her face crumpling.

‘Go to your room, now,’ Alison told him, her voice shaking.

‘No!’ Dominic stood up abruptly and, leaning across the table, shouted the word so that his hot breath and spittle collided with her face. ‘I will not go to my fucking room. Admit it, admit that all of this is bollocks and that this whole
family
is just one big fucking mess that’s falling to pieces. I won’t move until you tell me that he –’ he stabbed a finger at his father – ‘is a useless, lying, cheating waste of space and we’d all be better off without him!’

‘GET OUT OF HERE!’ Suddenly Marc sprung up from the table and hauled Dominic away from it by the collar of his school shirt, slamming him back hard against the kitchen wall. Dominic, his cheeks flushed and his eyes glittering, laughed in his father’s face.

‘Yeah, that’s it, hit me. Show your true colours, Marc. Show us what you really are. Just a navvy thug, who can’t keep his dick in his trousers, that’s the real you, isn’t it, Dad? Might as well knock your kids around too!’

Before Alison could move she saw Marc grab Dominic with his left and draw back his right fist.

‘DADDY, DON’T!’ Gemma screamed over her sister, who was wailing uncontrollably. ‘Don’t hit him, don’t hit him!’

Marc paused, and Alison saw that his arm was trembling.

He released Dominic, taking a step back, staring at the boy as if he had no idea who he was.

Shrugging his ripped shirt back on his shoulders, Dominic pulled himself off the wall and, looking Marc right in the eye, spat in his face. Picking up one of the opened beer bottles Alison had left on the side, he slammed out of the back door.

Able to move at last, Alison gathered Amy up onto her lap and put her arms around Gemma.

‘Never mind, never mind,’ she whispered. ‘Silly old Dom and Daddy. They didn’t mean it … never mind …’

Ciara looked regretfully at the plate of food that was still steaming in front of her.

‘I’ll go after him, Mrs James,’ she said, standing up. ‘He’s been wound up all week, really angry about something but he wouldn’t say what. I didn’t know he was going to do that or I
would
have tried to stop him.’ Ciara paused, not quite sure how to exit. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he’s OK. And thanks very much for dinner.’

She edged quite calmly past Marc, who was still standing facing the wall, his fists clenched.

‘I’m going out,’ Marc said, once the girl had gone.

‘Marc,’ Alison said as evenly as she could, ‘don’t go. Wait, please. We need to talk about this.’

‘Do we?’ Marc said. ‘It’s quite clear who you talk to in this family and it isn’t me. You didn’t have to do that, Alison. You didn’t have to turn my own son against me.’

‘I didn’t,’ Alison reacted coldly. ‘I didn’t say a word to him. You did that all by yourself.’

‘I’m going out,’ Marc repeated without looking at her, and he left without his jacket, picking up his wallet and keys on the way.

Alison sat with her two crying girls and she rocked them, all three, back and forth until all she could hear was the ticking of the kitchen clock.

When her husband and her son had come in tonight they had both planned to hurt her. They’d both wanted, for very different reasons, to show her what she was doing to their family.

Marc wanted things back the way they once were and Dom wanted everything to change. Strange then, given that, both had gone about it in exactly the same way.

They were more alike than either of them would ever admit to.

It took Alison a long time to get the girls to sleep, and only once she allowed Amy to climb into bed with Gemma had they eventually drifted off, after insisting that Alison sat by them until they were asleep. Gemma had been brave and
resilient
, promising Amy that it was a big fuss about nothing but still she had not wanted Alison to leave them. Amy was still crying when she finally surrendered to sleep, the tears drying on her cheeks.

As Amy slept Gemma looked at her mum from the bed. ‘Will you and Daddy split up, Mummy?’ she asked.

Alison closed her eyes, feeling as if she were crumbling and collapsing from the inside out.

‘No,’ she said, because she wanted her eight-year-old to be able to go to sleep without being afraid. ‘It was just a silly row, that’s all, between Daddy and Dom.’

‘But Daddy and you don’t like each other as much as you used to,’ Gemma said. ‘You pretend to, but I can tell. You’re all … far apart.’

‘It’s all just a bit funny at the moment because we’ve moved house, and we’re both a bit tired and grumpy, that’s all. You’ll see, when things calm down everything will be fine.’ Alison fought to maintain the soft, calm timbre in her voice.

‘Do you promise, Mummy?’ Gemma asked her. Alison bent over and kissed Gemma on her smooth round cheek.

‘I promise you,’ she said.

And as she walked out of the room she didn’t care what she had to do or give up to keep that promise, she just knew she had to make it true. So what if other people like Christina’s friend Sophie risked failure to be happy? Perhaps happiness wasn’t as important as the world kept on insisting that it was. Perhaps it didn’t matter if she didn’t love Marc the way she used to, and if she stuck with him then maybe the feeling would come back. Dominic thought he knew what was best for her but he was just a boy. He had no idea what it really meant to be married, committed to a relationship, come what may. Marc had behaved badly in the past, and almost unforgivably tonight, but like he said, he cared about her, he
loved
her the very most that he could, and perhaps she would just have to learn to live with that.

As Alison walked down the stairs in the dark she told herself again and again that she could make it work. Maybe after tomorrow she and Cathy would be friends again and perhaps, in time, good friends. If she had Cathy to lean on she thought she could manage it; she thought she could do anything for her daughters. Anything that would prevent Gemma from knowing that her mother was a liar.