The First Wife (16 page)

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Authors: Emily Barr

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BOOK: The First Wife
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The clouds had dispersed, and it was a perfect summer evening. When I caught a glimpse of the sea, I saw that it was still and flat, shining in the light of the setting sun. I reached Harry’s road a little bit early, and walked around the residential streets for a while. These were the older streets, the Victorian ones, and the terraces were packed with middle-class families. You could hardly walk a step without hearing someone playing scales on a violin. A woman smiled at me as she put her recycling boxes out, ready for the morning.

Harry threw the door open with an extravagant gesture. As soon as I saw him, my heartbeat sped up. I tried not to let it show.

‘Lily!’ he cried. ‘My God, you look fantastic – a sight for sore eyes. Come on in. Happy Birthday! Hold on a second. Where is it?’

I followed him in, and watched him hunting around. Eventually, he found a small gift-wrapped package, and handed it to me.

‘I wasn’t sure what to get you,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want to embarrass you. But then I thought I wanted you to have a lovely present to show how much it means to me that you are such an eminently wonderful presence in my life. And that I mean it even when I’m sober. So I got you something that I hoped you might like. Happy Birthday!’

‘Harry,’ I said. ‘Going out tonight is an enormous present.’

‘Open it, then.’

He watched intently as I overcame my reluctance and unwrapped a small box. I knew that he was studying my reaction. The smile was fixed to my face. It took me ages to get the box open. It was a hard box, a square one. I wished he hadn’t got me anything. Eventually, I managed to prise it open.

I smiled nervously.

‘Harry!’ I said. ‘A necklace. Wow, it’s beautiful! But it’s too much, it really is, I cannot possibly—’

He put a finger to his lips. ‘Shh,’ he said. ‘Stop talking and let me help you do it up.’

I stood still, feeling the goosebumps on the back of my neck as his fingertips brushed my skin. Then he led me to the hall mirror and stood behind me, holding my hair back then putting it gently down.

It was a beautiful silver necklace. I knew it had not been Sarah’s, because I could tell from the box that it was brand new. It was made from silver strands with silver balls at intervals on it. I loved it at once, but I wondered how much it had cost.

‘It suits you,’ he said quietly, standing behind me. ‘Don’t feel embarrassed. It wasn’t expensive. When I saw it, I thought of you, and I just wanted to give you a token, to say thanks for your friendship.’

I drew in a lungful of air.

‘Oh, thank you, Harry. It’s beautiful. I will treasure it.’

The town centre was busy with people who were enjoying the sunny evening. Harry led the way up to the High Street, and into a little courtyard with rickety tables and chairs in it.

‘Restaurant’s booked for nine, down the other end of town. Meanwhile, it’s cocktail hour. What’s it to be?’

This floored me. I paused, feeling stupid, for too long.

‘Can you choose one?’ I asked, at last. ‘I don’t know anything about cocktails. Left to myself, I’d ask for a glass of sherry. Or I’d pluck the name of a cocktail I’d heard of from thin air, and it would be all wrong.’

He smiled, and gestured to a table. ‘Take a seat and leave it to me. No tequila sunrise and no piña colada for you, young lady. Though sherry is probably cool again by now.’

I sat on a wobbly chair in the courtyard and wondered if this was really happening. I felt the Sarah of my imagination, watching me from somewhere around. If I concentrated hard, I could feel a chill on the back of my neck, where Harry had touched me.

A couple of students were at the next table, laughing privately at some joke or other.

When Harry came back out and put a glass of clear liquid and green plants in front of me, I tried to dispel the feeling that Sarah was watching me drinking cocktails with her husband.

‘What is it?’ I asked, instead.

‘Mojito.’ He raised his, which was the same, and we clinked glasses. ‘Many happy returns,’ he said.

‘Thank you.’

I took a sip. It was minty and limey and strong. I did not ask what was in it. I would find out for myself, later. I would find out how to make it, and one day I would make one for him. I liked it much better than red wine.

‘This is lovely,’ I said, and we smiled at each other, as the salty breeze blew in my hair.

The tiny seafood restaurant was down a few stairs, cosy with only four tables. We were shown to a corner table, though in fact each of the tables was in a corner, and Harry asked the woman to turn the music up so we could not hear the other people’s conversation, and they could not hear ours.

I looked at the couple at one of the other tables. I saw them look at Harry, then look again. I watched them notice me and talk to each other in hushed voices.

‘You really don’t mind people seeing us out together?’ I asked him.

He leaned back in his chair. ‘Meaning what?’

‘Meaning, do you really want people gossiping about you being out with some woman?’

He laughed, completely relaxed. ‘Let them gossip. May they enjoy themselves. Jesus. Should I be hiding away until the public at large reaches a consensus that the right amount of time has passed? No, thank you. Do I care if they judge me for taking a beautiful woman out to a restaurant – no, of course I don’t, Lily. I don’t care at all. Let them stare.’ He smiled across at the people who were looking at us. He even raised his hand and gave them a little wave. The woman waved back, uncertainly.

‘Really?’

‘I’ve had a lesson, these past six months, on what matters and what doesn’t. That doesn’t. I hope you’re hungry. There’s a seafood platter here that’s damn good, but it’s for two. How would that grab you?’

I nodded, though before it arrived I would have to make a conscious effort to dispel all of Granddad’s mistrust of all things that arrived in a shell. Harry ordered side salads, and asked if I’d like a starter. I said no.

‘Good idea,’ said Harry. ‘Leave some space for pudding. You have to have a pudding, because it’s your birthday. Twenty-one today. I can barely remember back that far. Do you know how old I am?’

‘No.’

‘Do you want to guess?’

‘No, I do not!’

‘Go on,’ he said. ‘Guess. Say whatever you like, I won’t be offended. Say I’m sixty-six and I’ll be flattered. I feel about a hundred.’

I looked at him. I thought he was about forty-two, so I said, ‘Thirty-eight?’ He laughed.

‘Well done,’ he said. ‘Forty-four, in fact. More than twice your age. I was older than you are now, when you were born. Now.’ He topped up my glass with wine, although we had only been here for fifteen minutes, and I noticed that it was true: I had knocked back most of a glass out of nerves.

‘Now,’ he said again, when both our glasses were full: ‘I want to know everything about Lily Button. I’ve never asked you a thing, which is dreadfully selfish of me. Where do you come from? Are you a Cornish girl? How is someone so young so wise and self-possessed? And most of all: why is someone as bright and sparky as you are cleaning people’s houses for a living? I’ve asked you that before but you’ve never answered.’

I closed my eyes, felt the alcohol affecting my reticence, and wondered how much to say. I was a distraction for Harry right now: my feelings for him were frighteningly strong, but I was not afraid of getting hurt. I was grateful for this, whatever happened.

I looked him in the eyes.

‘I’ll take the easy question first,’ I said. ‘Yes, I’m Cornish. I was born in Truro. You won’t believe this but I’ve spent my entire life in Cornwall. I’ve never even been to Devon.’

‘Never been to Devon? Or anywhere beyond?’

‘That’s right.’

‘We need to remedy that.’

‘I do intend to. So, my parents moved away when I was eight, and I lived with my grandparents after that.’

‘Your parents moved away?’

‘Yes.’ I tried to make light of it. ‘You know when people’s dads leave? It happens all the time. Well, occasionally you meet someone whose mum left them, though not very often. I just happened to be unlucky enough to have both of them leave at once.’

‘They stayed together? And left you with your grandparents?’

‘It was the best thing that could have happened,’ I said quickly. ‘I can see it now. My grandparents adored me and cherished me. I had a sheltered life with them, but it was a happy one. I’d happily have lived like that, in their cottage, for ever. But then they died.’

I wondered whether I really would have been happy in the cottage for ever, if they had been immortal and healthy. There would, I supposed, have come a time when I might have wanted to face the world.

‘And you didn’t end up with a cottage?’

‘It turned out they were rubbish with money. So I answered an ad, and went on benefits, and now I’m financially independent, because I clean five houses a week.’

‘Your parents were shits. I hope they died a horrible agonising death, if you don’t mind my saying so.’

I laughed. ‘I think they’re alive, because no one’s ever told me they’re not, but they’re dead as far as I’m concerned, and vice versa, no doubt. So it makes no difference, really, what they’ve done.’

Harry leaned forward and looked into my eyes.

‘You see?’ he said. ‘I always knew you were interesting. Bloody hell, Lily. They should make a film about you. What are you going to do for a career?’

‘Go to college. Get a degree. Actually I need a bit of a kick. It’s taken all my strength just to get this far, but I have no intention of actually stopping at this point.’

I crossed my legs under the table. My foot hit his shin by mistake. I moved away, but he pushed his leg forward so we were touching again. Neither of us acknowledged that this was happening.

‘Anyway, what about you?’ I asked. ‘You’ve got your brother, Fergus. What else?’

We chatted about Harry’s feckless brother who, it turned out, had been having affairs for years and had now been thrown out by his wife. I was glad it was Harry I was with tonight, rather than his brother. He also told me about his mother, Nina.

‘Sarah hated her, and the feeling was mutual, but Mum’s all right really. Can be overbearing but she’s a pussycat at heart.’ His father had died when Harry was six. As we talked, I copied the way he ate the seafood as, despite the fact that I had just shared my background with him, I was still embarrassed by the fact that I did not know how to tackle a prawn, or things that were bigger than prawns, with claws. I did not give a moment’s thought to whether I actually liked them or not, so the slimy things slipped down with no trouble at all.

It was nearly midnight when we stepped out into the darkness, with the harbour at one end of the little street, and the main road at the other. I looked towards the water: the moon was reflected in the still sea, lighting a silvery pathway to the horizon. The stars were all out, even the ones you could hardly see, the ones that came out looking like a white smudge across the sky. The little boats were bobbing around in the harbour, monochrome in the moonlight. The tankers, out at sea, were lit up brightly, in yellow and orange, looking like little havens in the blackness.

Harry put an arm around my shoulder. I had been waiting, hoping, for this. As the evening progressed, we had been leaning towards each other, our legs intertwined, then our hands touching. I was primed, yet petrified; ready for this to happen yet convinced I had read the signals wrong. Certain I was on the brink of making a fool of myself, yet unable to pull back.

I leaned into him, and we walked, together, down to the edge of the harbour, until we were on its brink. One more step would have taken us into the blackness of the Atlantic Ocean. The day when I had wanted to hurl myself into that cold water seemed a million years ago. Sarah had done that, in the end. It had never been going to be me.

‘Thanks for this evening,’ he said, his voice low.

‘No,’ I said. ‘Thank
you.

‘Lily,’ he said. ‘You have no idea. Honestly, you don’t.’

I stared at the clear night sky, and said nothing, because I did not want to ruin it.

‘See that bright one,’ he said, pointing with his free hand, ‘just over there – to the right of the moon? That’s Venus. At least, I think it is.’

‘Is it? Women are from there, then.’

That was a stupid thing to say. It was trite and utterly mood-dispelling. I opened my mouth and tried to suck the words back in. But Harry laughed.

‘Some women are from another planet. Not you, Lily.’

He put his other hand on my shoulder and turned me to face him. At that point, I stopped thinking. When he kissed me, I knew that this was the life I had never known I was missing. This was the future. Everything that had happened, had happened for this.

I tingled all over in ways I had never imagined. I had never done anything like this before, but I knew that it was right. My body did odd things, and wanted to do more. The night was warm around us, and there was nothing but us and the water and the starry sky.

When he looked at me, his eyes were more alive than I had ever seen them. He looked properly happy for the first time.

I kissed him,
I thought.
He kissed me. I, Lilybella Button, have kissed this amazing man.

He took my hand, and we walked together along the harbour’s edge.

Chapter Sixteen

A week later

Someone had turned off the old, weak sun, and turned on a stronger one in a different part of the sky. Life was warmer, more exciting, magical. I could not think of anything but Harry. It had only been a week, yet I had no idea what I used to think about. When we were not together, I had to make an effort even to notice other things. I could not believe how much he liked me. It was a strange fairytale, a dream come true.

I tried to be my old self. I called in to see Al at work, to apologise for running away from him and Boris at the party, but he wasn’t there. I babysat when Julia needed me to. I ran around, cleaning people’s houses, but my mind was never on what I was doing.

I had never come anywhere close to ‘having a boyfriend’. I had no idea what it was all about. Mia ‘had a boyfriend’, Joe, but they were teenagers, practising, messing around. Harry and I were nothing like them. We were serious from day one, and we both knew it.

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