The Sun in Her Eyes (23 page)

I haven’t told Ethan about Ned’s decision to leave work, or about the bizarre desire I have for him to cheat on me with Zara. I’d actually quite like to discuss it, but I
don’t think the topic would be welcome. Now he seems to have built a picket fence around the subject of my husband, as though any attempt to climb over it could result in being impaled on a
nasty spike.

But his sudden yearning for ignorance can’t go on forever.

Eventually he returns to the bench.

‘You’ve been eating my ice cream,’ he murmurs, staring at my mouth.

‘It was melting,’ I reply innocently.

He glances over his shoulder at his girls, then turns back and swiftly runs his tongue along my lips, making me tingle all over.

‘What, am I not worthy of a baby wipe?’ I tease as he withdraws.

He grins at me and I look past him to see Rachel staring at us. His face freezes at my expression and he quickly shifts to sit beside me. Rachel runs our way.

‘Dad, can you push me on the swing?’ she shouts.

‘Sure.’ He sighs and stands up.

I sneakily check my watch. How much longer before we can drop them home?

I wait in the car outside Ethan’s former family home while he returns Penny and Rachel to their mother. He rings the doorbell and the door whooshes open to reveal a
large, busty blonde. Must be a friend of Sadie’s, I muse, but there’s something about her expression…

Holy shit, it’s
Sadie
! But she’s enormous! She looks like she’s put on about four stone since I last saw her. I’m so shocked I forget to pay attention to the
exchange between her and Ethan, and then suddenly she’s staring at the car, a deep frown set into her forehead. I sink lower in my seat. The car’s interior lights are off, so I
don’t think she can see me, but Rachel is bouncing up and down and then she and Penny both look my way and Penny points. What are they saying?

Sadie ushers the girls inside and says something unpleasant to Ethan, judging by the look on her face, before shutting the door. He turns round and returns to the car, scratching his dark hair
in a gesture of irritation. He wrenches the door open and climbs in, slamming it behind him.

‘What did she say?’ I ask.

‘The usual shit,’ he replies darkly.

‘Did the girls mention me?’

‘Yeah.’ He puts the gearstick into position, looking over his shoulder as he reverses a little too fast out of the driveway.

‘Didn’t you tell Sadie I was going to be with you today?’

‘What? No, Amber, I didn’t.’ He sounds frustrated. ‘Now she knows. It’s not a big deal.’

‘She really hates me, doesn’t she?’

‘She doesn’t hate you,’ he scoffs. ‘Can we not talk about her, please?’

I want to ask when she put on all that weight and if he still fancies her, but that would probably not go down too well. For a start, it makes me look like a bitch, but I’m genuinely
intrigued. And for the first time, I have to admit that I enjoy the feeling of finally having one over her. I decide to keep that spiteful little fact to myself.

I arrive home at eleven p.m., expecting the house to be dark and silent. All I want to do is take a quick shower before bed, but Liz startles me by coming out of the living
room.

‘What are you doing still up?’ I ask, almost accusingly.

‘I’ve been watching telly. Len is in bed.’

‘Oh.’

‘Ned called.’ She scans my appearance. Are my clothes crumpled? Can she tell what I’ve been doing in the back of Ethan’s car? I sincerely hope not.

‘Did he? When?’ I ask casually.

‘A couple of hours ago.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I told him you were spending the day with Ethan, of course.’

She gives me a look as if to say, ‘Why wouldn’t I?’ So I play along.

‘Great. I’ll call him straight back.’

‘Night-night, then.’ She heads into her room.

‘Goodnight,’ I call after her.

With my pulse jumping unpleasantly, I take the phone into the living room and close the door behind me, dialling the home number.

‘Hello?’ Ned answers.

‘It’s me.’ Despite everything I’ve done, I still feel angry at him for deciding to quit his job to go and work with Zara.

‘Hey,’ he replies in a subdued voice. ‘I thought you must’ve gone to bed.’

‘No. What’s up?’

He sighs heavily. ‘I don’t know where to start.’

I sit more upright. ‘What is it?’ I ask uncertainly. Something about his tone has put me on edge.

‘Amber,’ he says reluctantly, ‘Zara made a pass at me last night.’

All that bravado about him leaving me for Zara was clearly just that: bravado. I’m instantly nauseous.

‘I didn’t kiss her back,’ he tells me quickly. ‘No, that’s a lie,’ he corrects himself as I pull my knees up to my chest. ‘I did, but just for a second
or two and then I broke away. I’m so sorry.’

He sounds wretched, and I dazedly recognise that he’s confessing this to me of his own accord. It’s what I’ve accused Zara of wanting to do to him, time and time again, and now
she’s bloody well done it. And Ned is telling me? Why? He could have got away with it!

‘Say something,’ he begs.

I’m inclined to tell him that he’s married to a slag-slut-whore-bitch.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ I force myself to reply instead.

‘I’m not going to go into business with her,’ he continues. ‘I haven’t handed in my notice yet and I won’t. I’ve told her that I can’t see her
anymore, that I don’t want to. Jesus, Amber, I’m so sorry. You were right all along. I swear I didn’t know she fancied me. I couldn’t see it. I thought she just liked me as
a friend.’

A few weeks ago I would have felt self-righteous and jubilant and within my rights to drag him over hot coals for allowing this to happen with that husband-stealing bitch-from-hell, but
now… Now, I can’t even find the energy to pretend to be as furious and indignant as a blameless wife would be.

‘I want you to come home,’ he says pleadingly. ‘Why do you have to stay another two weeks? Liz said she’s home now for the Easter holidays. She said they can manage
without you. You’ve been there for six weeks already.’

‘I don’t want to come home,’ I reply dully. ‘I don’t want to leave yet. I don’t even want to come home in a fortnight.’ I admit out loud what I’ve
already been thinking. ‘I have no reason to rush back. I don’t have a job—’

‘You have me!’ he exclaims. ‘It’s not good for us to be apart for this long!’

I scoff. ‘You were more than happy to send me off on my own six weeks ago.’

‘That’s not fair,’ he states. ‘I couldn’t get away at the time.’

‘Ned, you’ve got three weeks of holiday rolled over from last year. You could have taken them.’

‘I had to go to New York.’

‘You
wanted
to go to New York,’ I correct him.

‘So what if I did? Can you blame me?’ he demands to know.

I sigh heavily. I know I’m in the wrong, taking him to task for choosing his career over coming to Australia to see my sick dad. The truth is, New York was a jolly and I was jealous
because he was going with Zara rather than me. I knew I was set for a hellish trip to Australia on my own, while he was jaunting around the Big Apple, getting pissed and having the time of his
life. Of course, none of that excuses my actions up to this point.

But I’m not the only one who’s at fault here.

‘No, I understand why you wanted to go,’ I acquiesce. ‘And you’re right. It’s not good for us to be away from each other for so long. But it’s too late. The
truth is, I feel very distant from you, Ned. I barely even feel like we’re married at the moment.’

He’s so quiet that I’m not even sure he’s still there. I’m about to ask if he is when he speaks.

‘It’s been a really tough year.’ The sound of the sympathy in his voice is entirely unwelcome. I know where he’s going with this, but I don’t want to get upset. I
don’t want to relive it. ‘It’s been hard for me, too, Amber. You probably think I don’t think about it, that I’m just happy that my job is going well, but you’re
wrong. I think about it often, what could have been. We just have to keep trying.’

‘No,’ I interject, my tone taking on a dangerous edge.

‘It
will
happen for us. We
will
get there—’

‘No,’ I say again. ‘I’ve changed my mind. I’m not ready after all.’

‘Why?’ he asks. ‘You were ready before.’

‘Well, I’m not ready now,’ I snap, my throat closing up.

I try to channel my anger, but I’m finding it hard to focus. I’m on the verge of breaking down and that’s the last thing I want. My next words come to me in a brainwave.
‘I can’t believe you’re even talking to me about this when you kissed Zara last night! As if we can possibly discuss having a baby when you’ve gone and done that!’

My conscience scowls at me. Obviously
I’m
the one who’s having an affair… Nevertheless, if there were a less appropriate time to be talking about starting a family,
go right ahead and show me.

He sighs heavily. ‘It was a mistake. I’m sorry.’

‘So you bloody well should be!’ God, I am such a bitch. I’m
evil
… I’m a—

‘NAUGHTY GIRL!’
I quail at the recurring memory of my mother shouting this at me.

You’re right, Mum.

‘I think I want a divorce,’ I find myself saying.

My statement stuns him into silence.

There was a problem on the Underground the day I met Ned, and it seemed like everyone in London was crammed onto the buses…

I could kick myself. I should have left work before rush hour, but I wanted to get those maths papers marked. Normally I’d take work home with me, but Josie was playing
her music in her bedroom last night – not too loud, but loud enough for me not to be able to concentrate. I didn’t feel like I could ask her to keep it down when she’s only just
moved in. I don’t want to be one of
those
flatmates…

When I see the state of Camden High Street, however, I deeply regret my decision to stay behind and finish up. I almost turn round and go back to school, but then I see two C2 buses hurtling
along the road towards me in quick succession. I make a beeline for the second bus, praying that it won’t be absolutely heaving.

Loads of people get off and, to my amazement, a seat frees up right in front of me. I sit down with a thump and a smile, thinking that maybe fate is intervening because it’s my birthday,
not that I’m celebrating tonight. The bus fills up around me and I try to ignore my growing feelings of claustrophobia as the driver rumbles away from the stop, sending the tightly packed
standing passengers swaying from side to side. At that moment, I catch a glimpse of a heavily pregnant lady standing a few feet away.

My eyes dart around anxiously. There’s a young man with shortish sandy hair sitting directly in front of me in a priority space. His head is buried in a book, which is very convenient, I
think with annoyance. He’s probably pretending to be oblivious when he knows full well that he should move. The elderly people in the other priority seats can’t be expected to
budge.

Can he not see the rounded tummy that’s practically obscuring his vision? What a wanker.

I sigh and get to my feet. ‘Excuse me,’ I call to the pregnant woman. ‘Would you like to sit down?’ I glare pointedly at the young gent.

‘Oh, thank you!’ she exclaims with relief, practically nudging her bulge into the face of Book Boy.

With a bit of awkward manoeuvring, we swap places. All too late, he looks up and clocks what’s happening.

‘Shit, sorry!’ he exclaims, glancing over his shoulder in a panic. ‘Sit here,’ he urges the mum-to-be, snapping his book shut, but she’s already safely ensconced in
my seat.

‘It’s okay,’ she replies with a beatific smile. ‘Thanks anyway.’

He nods and smiles back at her, then turns and catches my eye. His mouth falls open at my expression. ‘Sorry, I should have—’ He scrambles to his feet.

‘Forget it,’ I snap crossly. ‘I’m fine standing.’

He tentatively sits back down again, but I notice he doesn’t pick up his book for a while. I think I’ve made him feel bad. Good. He can’t get away with behaving like that, even
if he is more than a bit good-looking.

A few stops later, when we’re driving through Kentish Town, the elderly lady to his right starts to get up. He smiles at me apologetically as he moves into the aisle to make room for her,
then stands back so I can slide into her seat.

‘Sorry about that,’ he murmurs, as he sits back down beside me. ‘I thought you must’ve been getting off at the next stop.’

I have to concede that he does genuinely seem to feel bad.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ I reply, glancing down at the novel in his hands. It’s black with what looks like a red ribbon on the front. ‘Must be a good
book.’

‘Hey?’ He glances at me with confusion. He has lovely eyes, I notice. Light brown. I guess you’d call them hazel.

I nod at his lap. ‘Whatever you’re reading must be pretty captivating if you don’t notice the enormous pregnant bump in front of your face.’

‘Aah, yeah.’ He shrugs, but his hands move to obscure the cover.

‘What is it?’ I pry curiously.

He looks self-conscious, but removes his hand. ‘Er, it’s called
Eclipse
,’ he admits half-heartedly. ‘It’s the third book in the
Twilight
saga.’

‘Haven’t heard of it. What’s it about?’

‘Um, it’s about…’ He shrugs and reluctantly hands over the book to me instead of offering an explanation. I read the blurb.

‘Sorry, how old are you?’ I ask with amusement.

‘Twenty-four,’ he replies defensively, blushing slightly. ‘I kind of like YA fiction.’

I give him a blank look. ‘YA?’

‘Young adult,’ he explains, taking the book back from me. ‘This series is really good. You should check it out.’

‘I’m not really into fantasy stuff,’ I reply.

‘It’s more about the love story than the vampires and werewolves,’ he tells me before frowning. ‘God, I sound like a right twat.’

I laugh and he flashes me a sideways grin. Suddenly my stomach is jittery. ‘I bet you’d like
Twilight
,’ he says.