Kitty

Chapter 8Moving Home

8

1996

Kitty ran her hand over her daughter’s dark curly hair as they sat together in the square kitchen at the back of the Georgian terraced house where they now lived in Blackheath, southeast London. Angus’s promotion when Sophie was a toddler had meant they were able to take on the hefty mortgage. It had been a thrill, putting the key in the black front door of what she’d felt would be their forever house. The sitting and dining rooms had been knocked through by the previous owner, creating a vast open-plan living space with glorious floor-to-ceiling windows at each end. Light flooded first one half and then the other as the day progressed. Kitty loved to watch the sun dapple the wooden floor and rarely felt the need to look at the clock on the mantel, knowing exactly where she was in the day by the way the light fell. It was just one of the magic secrets of the storybook house.

Two matching fireplaces sat along the outer wall and bookshelves nestled in the alcoves on either side. An old dining table and six heavy chairs with ball-and-claw feet, which her parents had consigned to their basement, had made their way down the motorway in the back of a cow trailer and now dominated the dining area, the burnished mahogany having been given a new lease of life. Kitty was more than happy to have part of her beloved Darraghfield around her every day. Angus had drawn the line at her suggestion of oil paintings and ornate mirrors, which she thought might have worked very well. He favoured lighter watercolour seascapes, which she had to admit looked elegant against the blue-grey painted panels. She had reluctantly rewrapped the antiques and left them in the basement with the other treasures.

Keeping the house running smoothly and looking after Sophie and Angus were pretty much Kitty’s entire world. That and swimming. Three times a week she took herself off to the pool in nearby Greenwich, relishing the chance to float and dream. Things with Angus were stable and comfortable, but he worked hard, came home late and quite often seemed a bit remote. It was her adorable, effervescent daughter who brought the fun into her life, but now that Sophie had turned eight and was well established at junior school, Kitty had taken a part-time job in a local art gallery. It was good to have something else to think about.

‘Can I make a cake?’

‘Urgh.’ Kitty pulled a face; the mess her daughter created when cooking turned a simple cake-making exercise into an hour of post-cookery deep-cleaning.

‘Pleeeese, Mum! I want to make one for Dad!’

‘All right, Soph. I’ll get your apron, otherwise your uniform will be covered.’

Kitty made her way to the large cupboard under the stairs, where alongside boxes of toys and books there were tennis racquets, walking sticks, wellington boots and trainers lined up on the floor. Coats, hats and scarves hung on the sturdy coat-rack on the wall and the Hoover lived next to the ironing board, long broom and dustpan and brush. Kitty lifted her daughter’s apron, dislodging Angus’s heavy coat as she did so. It fell to the ground. Various business cards, receipts and a handful of change clattered onto the polished wooden floor.

‘Shit!’ Kitty cursed.

‘I heard that!’ Sophie reprimanded from the kitchen.

It was as Kitty straightened up and prepared to shove the bundle back into the coat pocket that her eye was drawn to a shiny red card that seemed to stand out from the others and a receipt. Pulsing in her palm, it invited her to look further.

‘The Anvil, 88 Tooley Street, London Bridge,’ she read under her breath. She raised the card to her face and studied the image of a moustachioed man in a peaked leather cap with a large cigar clamped between his teeth. She fingered the receipt, for two beers and two tequilas, and the date, a Tuesday evening, the week before last.

‘Come on, Mum!’ Sophie called out impatiently.

Kitty painted on a smile and restored the items to her husband’s pocket, trying to ignore the dull feeling of mistrust in her gut. But she couldn’t forget it; her mind kept returning to the ostentatious card and the niggling sense that something wasn’t quite right. Finally she remembered: that Tuesday had been parents’ evening at Sophie’s school and Angus had been all set to come. But at the last minute he’d phoned from work, saying he had to go for a drink with an important client. She’d thought nothing of it – his job was demanding and being social was part of it. He was often out late. But a gay club…?

Some three hours later, Angus arrived home and strolled into the kitchen.

‘Dad!’ Sophie yelled. She pointed at the plate which proudly displayed her rather flat creation, ‘I made you this! Carrot cake!’

‘Wow, Soph!’ He bent down and kissed her face. ‘That looks marvellous. Is it really for me?’

Sophie smiled. ‘Yep, I wanted to do a practice, we are making one at school next week.’

‘Well, how wonderful, thank you, darling.’ He winked at his wife over Sophie’s head. Kitty felt her heart lift; he really was the very best dad.

‘Pasta?’ she lifted the saucepan and carried it to the sink to drain.

‘Ooh yes, lovely. And a glass of red if there’s one going.’ He took a seat next to Sophie who was already enjoying her supper. ‘So how was school?’

‘Bit shit.’

‘Sophie!’

‘Oi!’

Both she and Angus shouted in unison.

‘Mum said it earlier.’ Sophie loaded up her fork with pasta.

Kitty poured the aromatic ragu, which had been simmering for hours, over the twists of pasta and ladled a healthy portion into a shallow bowl for her husband.

‘Well, Mum can say it if she wants, you on the other hand…’

He smiled at his wife. ‘This looks lovely. Thank you, Kitty.’

She smiled thinly, took a slug of wine and sat at the table.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked, studying her face.

‘I’m fine,’ she offered curtly, jerking her head towards their daughter, the code for ‘We’ll discuss this when she’s asleep’.

Angus nodded and tucked into his supper. The atmosphere in the room changed, charged now with unspoken anticipation and a certain wariness on both their parts. It turned the delicious ragu into something quite flavourless and the pasta stuck like paste to the roof of Kitty’s mouth.

With Sophie finally packed off to bed, Kitty stacked the dishwasher and turned off the light before making her way into the sitting room. Angus was watching the news, sitting on the sofa with his stockinged feet resting on the edge of the coffee table.

‘So what’s up?’ He wasted no time in getting to the point, as was his way.

She sat in the chair by the fireplace and curled her feet under her as she took a deep breath. ‘I found something today and it’s kind of bothered me.’

He made the little ‘T’ sound and gave a small laugh. The noise she had once found so endearing irritated her tonight. ‘Sounds ominous!’ He swallowed. ‘Come on, Kitty, talk to me!’

‘It was a business card in your coat pocket.’

‘What business card?’ He wrinkled his nose, his eyes never leaving her face, his expression open, the look of a man who had nothing to hide, and she felt the flare of embarrassment at any awkwardness that she might be about to cause.

‘It was red, a bit… I don’t know, homoerotic.’ She gave a little laugh, embarrassed by her choice of words. ‘It was for a place called the Anvil, in London Bridge.’

‘And…?’ Angus looked at her levelly.

‘You said you were out with clients that night – it was Sophie’s parents’ evening, remember? I can’t believe you took them to… a gay club. Did you?’

This time there was a momentary hesitation before Angus replied, enough for Kitty to notice. ‘Jesus Christ, this feels like an inquisition. I did go out with clients, like I told you. But then… it was too late for the parents’ evening, so Thomas and I dropped in at the Anvil. Bit sleazy actually, but we went for a couple of drinks.’ He shrugged.

She stared at him, wondering how to continue her questioning in the manner she had prepped. She hadn’t expected him to be so appeasing. Bloody Thomas Paderfield. He might be Angus’s best mate, but in all the years she’d known him, Kitty hadn’t warmed to him. There was something fake about him, just like Ruraigh had said.

‘Thomas just happened to be in the neighbourhood, did he? And you didn’t think to tell me?’

Angus snorted. ‘Because it wasn’t important. What’s got into you?’

‘I don’t like the secrecy, Angus. It’s like you’ve got something to hide. When I found the card…’ She faltered, not entirely sure what it was that had caused her such unease, and unable to articulate right now how it had made her stomach flip.

‘ Found the card!’ He swung his legs off the table and sat forward. ‘Found it? Have you any idea how that sounds? The fact that you went rifling through my pockets is a bit worrying – is that where we’re at? What next, combing through the bank statements, having me followed?’

‘No! Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous! And I didn’t go rifling through your pockets. I was fetching Sophie’s apron and knocked your coat and it fell onto the floor.’

He raised his eyebrows, clearly doubting her explanation, which incensed her.

‘If you say so, Kitty, but you seem pretty riled…’

‘I am not riled!’ she shouted. ‘I just can’t see why—’

‘Why what?’ Angus looked her full in the face, challenging her to come out with it.

Kitty took a deep breath. ‘Why you’d go to a gay club and then lie to me about it.’

Angus shook his head. ‘For God’s sake, Kitty! I didn’t lie about it! It was just a non-event! I’ve known Thomas since we were eighteen. He was my best man, for Christ’s sake. He’s my best friend. Give me a break.’

Kitty gulped down her angry tears and tried to calm down. She might not like Thomas, but, really, what was she achieving here? ‘I’m sorry, Angus, I—’

‘You should be. It’s pissed me off! I work my arse off all day and come home to a cold shoulder and a guessing game over supper.’ He stared at her.

Kitty felt the beginnings of a headache and rubbed her temples. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s up with me. Can we forget the whole thing?’

Angus stood and undid the top button of his shirt, loosening his tie. ‘Sure we can. I’m off to have a shower.’ He made his way to the door, then stopped and looked back over his shoulder, his hand resting on the frame. ‘It’s a bit rich, isn’t it, Kitty? You were the one that couldn’t keep your knickers on and I’m the one being made to feel guilty.’

As Angus trod the stairs, more tears gathered at the back of Kitty’s throat. This was by no means the first time he’d used her infidelity as a weapon against her; he sometimes brought it up when he badly needed to win an argument or as a way of deflecting her criticism of something he’d done. It always had the same effect on Kitty, pulling the rug from under her feet and leaving her feeling vulnerable and afraid.

She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, wishing she could turn the clock back, wishing she could go back and not mention the bloody business card. In fact, if she had the ability to turn back time, she would go back to the day she met Theo on the pavement and she’d smile politely and immediately make her way home – without going to the pub, let alone going back to his flat.

No, no, no! Don’t think that! You wouldn’t have Sophie!

The very idea was unthinkable. She loved her daughter beyond measure; loved her exactly how she was and for exactly who she was, and that was all down to that one glorious, life-changing, memory-making afternoon.

*

It was now the weekend and the air had long since cleared. Angus and Kitty were sitting side by side in the back of a cab. ‘How late do you think this thing will go on?’

Kitty tutted and smiled at her husband. ‘Ruraigh and Tizz have finally got engaged! It’s supposed to be a celebration, not a chore!’

‘I know, but Sundays are so precious, and a barbecue, as you know, can last an hour or a whole day if you put your back into it. And it’s such a long way.’

‘It’s Chiswick, not the Highlands, and he’s my cousin and one of your best friends. So please try and be happy. After all, we’ve got no Sophie to worry about for once. How often does that happen – a whole night to ourselves! So we can drink and dance till dawn if the fancy takes us.’

‘I expect Sophie and Bonnie will be doing the same thing.’ He chuckled.

‘God, I hope not! Sleepovers might have got a bit more exciting since we were kids, but they are only eight! Mind you, it won’t be long, Sophie’s getting so grown-up.’

‘Tell me about it. I put the Mini Pops CD on in the car and she rolled her eyes and said, “Oh Dad, can we have the Spice Girls instead?” I had to look into the back seat just to check there hadn’t been some inexplicable time-shift and there wasn’t a teenager sitting behind me!’

Kitty threaded her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘I love you.’

Angus kissed the top of her head by way of reply.

The Victorian terrace in Chiswick was bursting with people. Music and laughter filled the air and it was a reminder to Kitty that not all of their peers were married with kids; some were still living the carefree life of the mature student or the new professional. Not that she would have swapped her life for anything, but a day like this away from the routine of childcare, school runs and cooking supper was a treat. Uni friends, work colleagues and Old Vaizians populated the rooms and spilled out into the garden, where a rather grubby-looking oil-drum barbecue was turning out the very best food. She wolfed down decent servings of mouthwatering chicken drumsticks in a sticky honey glaze and near-charred bangers, the perfect foundation for numerous cold beers and three white-wine spritzers.

Hamish rushed over with his new girlfriend Flo and lifted Kitty off her feet. ‘So, another wedding at Darraghfield!’ He smiled at her as she concentrated on not toppling over and, more importantly, keeping her plastic wine goblet upright.

‘And what about you two? You could do a double-wedding! That would be ace!’ Booze removed all filters from Kitty’s mouth.

Flo squawked. ‘Did he tell you to say that?’ She nudged her beau in the ribs. ‘He can’t understand why I am happy not to get married. I mean, good luck to Ruraigh and Tizz and all that, but I just don’t get it. I don’t feel the need to put on the frock and announce to the world that I love this man. I don’t even believe in God. It would feel hypocritical.’

‘I hear ya!’ Kitty raised her glass in her wobbly, drunken hand.

‘Did you hear, Kitty, that Theo is engaged?’

The words, casually offered, felt like rocks being smashed into her gut. They left her winded, but she kept her smile in place. ‘I didn’t hear that. Congratulations to Theo!’ She lifted her drink in the spirit of the occasion. ‘Good for him.’ Her heart twisted with a strange mix of feelings and she recalled his words, spoken so long ago, at school, when he’d comforted her over the death of Flynn. ‘I can’t imagine anyone loving me so much that they would miss me like you’re missing your pony right now.’

‘Her name is Anna, apparently, and he’s pretty smitten,’ Hamish added.

Anna… Take care of his heart, Anna – it’s a good one, a true one and one I could quite happily have claimed for my own. Again, Kitty recalled the feel of Theo’s kiss on her collarbone that day they’d made Sophie.

Hamish was already onto the next subject. Casting a theatrical glance at Flo, he asked her, ‘And did I hear correctly, that you love this man?’ He pointed his finger at his own chest and grinned at his girlfriend.

‘I do,’ Flo replied, with a striking softness to her tone that Kitty found quite moving. ‘I love you.’

Hamish leant over and kissed his girl.

‘For God’s sake, get a room!’ Ruraigh yelled as he gripped his brother in a headlock.

Kitty roared her laughter and recalled the two of them as kids, wrestling on the front lawn at Darraghfield, the roughhousing only ending when her dad pulled them apart or one of them started crying.

‘You two…!’ She smiled at them affectionately.

Hamish and Flo went to dance and she faced Ruraigh, raising her glass. ‘Congratulations, Ruraigh. I love Tizz, absolutely love her and I wish you both every bit of love and luck in the world. Not that you’re going to need it – you’re wonderful together.’

‘Thank you.’ He nodded.

She watched his colour rise, confident that he’d noted the overly effusive wording of her toast, intended to remind him of his lukewarm response to her own engagement, all that time ago in her college room.

There was a beat or two of silence while both looked at each other, as if aware that this was the time to put to bed the awkwardness that had simmered between them ever since.

‘You hurt me.’ She spoke plainly.

‘I never meant to hurt you, Kitty. Not for the world.’ He looked at his feet.

His apology caused her tears to pool – easy enough, as they’d been threatening since she’d found out about Theo and his Anna. But hearing her cousin’s words of remorse made her realise how much she’d longed for them.

‘It always mattered to me what you thought.’ She glanced up at him, tried to catch his eye. ‘I wanted to be just like you and Hamish, I wanted to make you proud and I was so excited to be marrying one of your friends. I thought you might have picked Angus for me and I couldn’t wait to see your face light up when I told you he’d proposed.’ She looked at the floor, reflecting on the depth of her feelings, surprised how raw she felt still. ‘I guess I was waiting for that look you used to give me when I’d done good. Like the time we went clay-pigeon shooting – d’you remember? – and you and Hamish dropped out when the competition got too fierce, but I went all the way and came second to Patrick’s son. I beat you both!’

‘Yes, you did.’ He smiled, shaking his head. ‘You always had to beat us.’

‘Or at least keep up. That was enough for me.’

Ruraigh took a step towards his cousin. ‘Did you ever think, Kitty, that I was only looking out for you, trying to protect you? Did you ever think that? That’s what big brothers do! But, Christ, your reaction made it impossible for me to even talk to you. There was so much—’ He stopped talking and took a deep breath.

‘So much what? Go on!’ She punched his arm.

‘So much I wanted to say to you. But hey, it looks like it’s all turned out just fine, and that’s that.’

She held his gaze and felt the tremble to her bottom lip and the twist in her gut. ‘It’s not perfect,’ she whispered.

‘Nothing’s perfect.’

‘I guess.’ She pictured her parents on the sofa in the library, giggling and sipping whisky, before the monster came to live with them, before her mum’s mind got a bit broken. ‘Tell me, Ruraigh. Please. I need to know what it is with you!’

He looked over his shoulder, as if checking that Angus wasn’t within hearing distance, then spoke into her ear. ‘There might have been rumours – rumours that I paid no heed to.’

‘Right.’ She waited for him to continue.

‘And that Thomas Paderfield… As I told you at the time, I’ve never liked the cut of his jib.’ He paused.

‘What do you mean?’ She blinked away the image of the garish red card. The Anvil.

Ruraigh rubbed his hand over his stubble and took a long pull on his beer bottle. ‘He and Angus were arguing the night before your wedding and… there was something about it I didn’t like.’

Kitty pictured her fiancé coming into the library and remembered how distressed he’d been. ‘I want you to make me the man I need to be.’

‘Tell me, Ruraigh. I need to hear it.’

Ruraigh flushed red, stammered a bit, then said, ‘I might have misheard, got the wrong end of the stick, but Thomas seemed to be talking about… about Angus having to make a choice. And how…’ He stared at his feet, scratched his stubble again. ‘How… that choice was between him and you.’

Kitty’s heart was hammering so fast she could barely breathe, let alone reply to Ruraigh’s bombshell. Images of Angus and bloody Thomas Paderfield swam into her head. The red card. The mixtape. The long nights out drinking. Was there a whole other story behind Angus’s remoteness, a story she hadn’t even contemplated? The friends he never invited home. The puffy eyes before the wedding. She staggered backwards, and Ruraigh caught her, held her close.

‘You have options, you know, Kitty,’ he whispered into her hair. ‘There isn’t a deal made that can’t be broken.’

Kitty was still fumbling for a reply when Tizz burst into the room. ‘There you are! Come on, you two, come and dance in the kitchen!’

‘You bet.’ Ruraigh squeezed Kitty tightly, and she felt the estrangement of the last few years slip away. ‘You’re a warrior, like your mum,’ he said quietly before being led away by Tizz.

*

‘You’re quiet.’ Angus knocked his knee against hers as the cab wound its way home through the darkness. It felt strange to be out past midnight.

‘Just tired,’ she lied, thinking about Ruraigh’s words and also about Theo’s news.

‘It was a bloody good party! You were right – it was good to have a drink and a dance, and we should definitely do it more often.’ He gripped her hand.

She stared at their joined knuckles on the back seat and replayed the conversation with Ruraigh over and over in her head, slicing and dicing the exchange to extract every single drop of meaning from it.

‘There isn’t a deal made that can’t be broken.’ It occurred to her that Ruraigh might have inadvertently used precisely the right word. Had she done a deal with Angus, albeit one that she wasn’t aware of? Could it be that he had forgiven her for sleeping with Theo because he figured it would mean she owed him?

What if he has a secret life? A life I can’t and don’t want to imagine?

‘Kitty!’ Angus called, and she jumped. ‘God, you were miles away. I was just saying that I have missed Soph. We should do something fun with her next weekend, a nice family day out?’

‘Yes.’ She smiled. Whatever else, he really was a wonderful dad.

‘Christ, don’t sound too enthusiastic!’

Kitty stared out of the window and cursed the tears that gathered. ‘It will be lovely.’

‘What is wrong with you? It was you that was keen to go to the bloody party, and now we have and you’re miserable!’ He slapped his thigh and she noticed he was using the loud voice that meant he was pissed.

‘What is wrong with me?’ She laughed. ‘Oh, Angus.’

‘What the hell does that mean?’ he yelled, and they both heard the cough of the cab driver, a reminder that he was present.

‘Can we talk about it when we get home?’ she asked curtly.

‘Oh good, we now have that to look forward to.’ He made the ‘T’ sound and gave a brief, disingenuous laugh.

When they reached home, Angus paid the taxi driver and Kitty went ahead, switching on the lamp in the sitting room.

Angus slumped down onto the sofa with an audible sigh. ‘So come on, let’s have it!’ He lifted his hands and let his palms fall loudly onto the cushions, as if already exasperated. ‘What now?’

‘I feel torn,’ she whispered.

‘What do you mean, “torn”?’ He sounded impatient, irritated.

‘I want to ask you something, but I feel sick about doing it and I’m scared of what you might or might not say, and I’m scared of how you’ll react, but I have this gnawing feeling in my stomach that I’ve had for the last week, since the business-card incident, or actually longer, probably years, and I need to get it out.’

He shifted on the sofa, leant forward with his elbows on his knees. His head seemed larger than usual in the lamplight.

‘I can do it, Angus. I can say what I am thinking if you promise me two things.’ He looked up and she continued. ‘I need you to promise to tell me the truth and I need you to promise not to get angry. I don’t want to fight. I really don’t. I just want to talk.’

‘Okay.’ He clamped his hands together and his foot jumped slightly against the floor.

Kitty took a deep breath and practised in her mind the many ways to phrase the question. It sounded ridiculous, laughable and distressing all at the same time. In the end her words were neither well planned nor dressed up but were simply the ones that leapt from her tongue.

‘Are you gay?’

‘Am I gay?’ he repeated. ‘For fuck’s sake, Kitty! How could you even—’

‘Don’t lie to me!’ Kitty raised her voice, thankful that Sophie was several miles away at Bonnie’s house.

She waited for the little tell-tale ‘T’ that always preceded his derisive laughter. But he remained quiet. The moments ticked by, seconds that she expected would be loud with angry rebuttals and the row she’d been keen to avoid. But he didn’t say anything. Which was almost worse.

Finally, he breathed out and then looked at her. There was a second of silent interaction that she knew was leading somewhere new, somewhere unchartered.

‘I’m not gay,’ he managed, ‘but I am bisexual. At least I think I might be.’

The words punched her chest with force.

‘Surely you know?’ she whispered.

Angus twisted in the seat to face her, his face ashen. ‘I don’t know anything right now.’ He pushed his thumbs into his eye sockets and sat like that for a minute or so.

‘Have you…’ She swallowed, not sure she wanted the knowledge she was seeking. ‘Have you ever been unfaithful to me?’

‘Yes,’ he replied instantly, nodding, seemingly relieved to have been asked.

And what can you say, Kitty? You did it first, you slept with Theo. This is how it feels…

‘Fucking hell!’ She gasped. ‘With… with men or women?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘Well, that’s too bad! You don’t get to choose! I need answers!’ She tucked in her lips and bit down hard, cursing the lump in her throat that made her voice strained. ‘How many times have you been unfaithful to me?’

He looked at her, his expression intense. ‘Once, that’s all.’

‘Fucking hell!’ She could only repeat her curse and place her shaking hands between her clamped knees.

Angus took a deep breath and looked skywards.

Kitty’s desire to vomit intensified. ‘With a man?’ She tilted her chin in defiance.

He nodded.

‘Fucking hell.’

‘I wish you’d stop saying that,’ he said with a flicker of disdain.

That was enough to fan her anger to fever pitch. ‘Do you? Well, you know, Angus, there are lots of things that I wish. I wish I had never set eyes on you! I wish you had picked someone else’s life to mess with, and I wish you hadn’t fucked a bloke, how about that?’

‘I know you’re hurt—’

‘You know nothing!’ she yelled. Despite the beat of silence, the air crackled around them. ‘And is that man Thomas?’

‘Yes.’ He nodded and took another deep breath.

‘Oh my God!’ Kitty gripped the arms of the chair and concentrated on not throwing up as the room spun. ‘Did you sleep with him at uni? I remember that girl on your landing, the one with the boobs and hips – Mary…? Maxine! – I remember her being a bit shocked when I told her I was your girlfriend. Was that because you were seeing him then?’

‘No! We were close friends, yes, and Thomas has always been… quite keen.’ He gave a small smile. ‘But it’s only happened once.’

‘When did you sleep with him?’

‘Last year. I was… experimenting, that’s all.’ He looked at the floor.

‘Really? After, what, ten years of friendship, all of a sudden you just fucked each other? How does that even happen?’

‘Christ, Kitty, I don’t know… We were drunk, you and I weren’t getting on. Like I said, it was just the once.’ He glanced up at her. ‘You of all people should know how that goes.’

Kitty chose not to rise to that. She had other questions on her mind. ‘Did you like it?’ she shot back, and then immediately wished she hadn’t.

Angus sighed. ‘Let’s not go there, Kitty. Please.’

She inhaled sharply and had a vivid flashback of her and Theo in bed together. Could that be how Angus felt about Thomas? ‘Do you… do you love him?’ she asked finally, through a mouth contorted with emotion.

‘I love you! I love you and Sophie, you know I do!’ He raised his voice, his fingers now balled into fists.

‘But do you love him?’

‘Yes,’ he mumbled through his tears. ‘Yes, I love him. Christ, it’s so complicated. He’s my friend, but you, you’re my wife!’

‘And it’s not a new thing, this… this wondering if you might be attracted to men, to Thomas, is it?’ Kitty said softly, connecting some of the dots, remembering Ruraigh’s gentle hints.

Angus shook his head.

‘God.’ She shoved her hand over her mouth and gulped her tears. ‘God, Angus, all this time, all the lies. All that crap you gave me about the Anvil only this week! I must be so stupid!’

‘You’re not stupid. I love you, I—’

‘Just don’t. Just don’t say anything else.’

The two fell silent. Kitty’s stomach swirled as if it was in the grip of a mini tornado. A hum was building inside her head; it built and built until all she could hear was an unbearable screeching. Angus started to ramble.

‘I am sorry for any hurt, of course.’ He shook his head again and placed his chin in his palm, as if they were discussing something naughty Sophie had done and were trying to work out a suitable punishment. ‘And I’m sorry for being less than truthful, but—’

‘Shut the fuck up, Angus! Just shut the fuck up!’ she screamed as she stood. Her outburst shocked them both. ‘How can you just sit there and calmly tell me my whole marriage is a bloody joke! You have had sex behind my back with a bloke who you love as a friend! What the hell am I supposed to do with that information? How do I begin to process that? How do I compete?’ She continued to yell, loudly. ‘And you were so benevolent about Theo, oh my God! I could see your halo glowing as you bestowed forgiveness, and all the time you were coercing me into a deal that I knew nothing about! I gave you the option of leaving, calling time on our relationship, but you did this to me when we were married, with Sophie!’

‘You think I like this situation?’ He spoke quietly, forcing her to calm down and listen. ‘I am petrified, utterly petrified of losing you. It was a one-time thing, Kitty, and it won’t happen again. Please, please give me a chance to make it up to you. We are a family, you and me and Soph. No matter how we got here, this is it! Please don’t throw us away. Please!’

He tried to grab her hand, but she shook him off.

‘And I’m shit scared of my parents finding out – they would die, they would cut me off, it would break them! You won’t tell them, will you, Kitty?’ He looked at her with an expression of abject fear.

‘Christ, why would I do that? You think I’m worried about your parents’ reaction? I have enough of my own shit to deal with!’

Kitty ran from the room and raced up the stairs. She managed to reach the bathroom before vomiting into the toilet bowl, ridding her gut of the alcohol she had consumed along with the belief that her future was set and that her marriage was built on a solid foundation of truth. And it tasted horrible.