Shock
Shock
AT THE HOUSE SHE FISHED HER KEY FROM HER pocket. She opened the door and dropped her bag in the hall before making a dash for the downstairs toilet. As she was washing her hands afterwards she thought she heard footsteps descending the stairs.
She emerged from the loo and looked around. The front door was still open, her key still in the lock, her bag precisely where she’d dropped it. Hallucinating, she decided, from lack of sleep. She pulled out her key and closed the door. She’d make tea and have it while she was getting ready for bed.
There were two cups on the kitchen table, a coffee pot between them. He and Maggie maybe, although Maggie was more a tea person. As she crossed to the table, rapid footsteps sounded suddenly on the stairs. She froze, heart hammering. Had she disturbed thieves? Should she make a dash for it, out through the back? But the key to the back gate—
The kitchen door opened and Leo appeared, tucking shirt tails into trousers. ‘Ellen – you’re back. What’s up? What’s happened?’
She let out her breath. ‘My God – you scared the life out of me. Why are you here? Why aren’t you at work?’
Instead of answering, he swept her into a hug she wasn’t expecting, causing her to stumble a little.
‘Sorry,’ he said, still holding her, his voice travelling over her shoulder, ‘you caught me having a sneaky nap – Juliet was a bit restless last night.’
She eased from his embrace to study him. ‘Is she OK? Anything wrong?’
‘No, just overtired or something. She was fine going to crèche.’
‘But shouldn’t you be at work?’
‘I decided to take the day off. Didn’t I tell you?’ His shirt was buttoned wrongly. Why had he felt he’d have to get dressed before seeing her?
‘So,’ he said, clapping his hands – he never clapped his hands – ‘let’s make coffee and you can tell me everything.’ As he spoke, he whisked the cups from the table and deposited them in the sink.
‘Were you entertaining?’ she asked.
He laughed. ‘Hardly – unless you count Claire as a visitor. She was here yesterday. I was being a slob, leaving them there.’
Claire. She’d forgotten Claire’s promise to drop in on Sunday.
‘I was going to do a clean-up before you arrived,’ he went on, his back to her as he sluiced the cups out with water. ‘So – was the wedding called off?’
‘No, it went ahead – I phoned you while it was going on, remember?’
‘Oh . . . yes, of course. Sorry, I think I’m still half asleep.’ He turned to her then, drying his hands on a towel. ‘So why did you come back early?’
There was something wrong with his smile. It wasn’t sitting right. ‘I took a test,’ she said. ‘In America.’ Disappointed at how her big news was falling flat.
He set down the towel. ‘Oh yes?’
‘A pregnancy test, Leo.’ Maybe he’d drunk too much last night. He seemed fuddled, not with it. She crossed to him and undid his buttons and fixed them. ‘I’m pregnant,’ she said.
For a second he didn’t react, and then he embraced her again, wordlessly.
After a minute she drew away again, frowning. ‘Leo,’ she said, her palms against his chest, his heart beating beneath it, ‘you’re acting oddly. What’s up? Did something happen? Is Juliet really OK?’
He laughed. It was too loud. He grabbed her hands. ‘Juliet is fine, never better! Everything’s fine. You worry too much. Everything’s fine.’
‘And what about the baby? Are you happy I’m pregnant?’
‘Of course I am!’
No. Something was wrong. He couldn’t lie. He was trying, but he was failing. ‘Leo,’ she began, ‘was—’ She broke off. She wet her lips and started again. ‘Was someone else here?’
He frowned. ‘Was – what? I told you, Claire was here. Yesterday. You knew she was coming, right?’
She shook her head. ‘No, I don’t mean Claire. I mean now, this morning.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Just now, when I came in. I heard someone coming down the stairs when I was in the loo.’
She waited for him to say she’d imagined it, of course nobody else was there, but he didn’t.
And he had come downstairs just minutes later.
No.
No.
Please.
His shirt buttons.
His odd manner.
No. Please. No.
He looked trapped. Her heart fell. It dropped all the way to the floor. No.
‘Say something,’ she begged. ‘Tell me I’m wrong. Say whatever it takes to make this go away.’
Still he remained silent. She felt like she might vomit.
She drew her hands from his. ‘Was someone here this morning? Was someone with you?’ She stepped away, already knowing the answer he wouldn’t say.
‘Ellen—’
‘Who? Who was here?’
‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—’
She covered her face with ice-cold hands. ‘Oh God, oh God, oh God.’ She kept saying it, kept repeating it. She felt him trying to take her hands again and she leapt back, hip colliding painfully with the edge of the table. ‘No! Stay away – don’t touch me!’
‘Ellen, please, it was a one-off, it meant nothing, a stupid impulse—’
‘Who is it? Do I know her? Have I met her?’
‘Ellen, it doesn’t matter—’
‘It doesn’t matter ?’ she shot back, hip throbbing. ‘It doesn’t matter that you – that you – Jesus !’ A new and horrible thought struck. ‘Was Juliet here? Did you bring someone in when our daughter was in the house?’
‘No, I swear it, Ellen. Juliet knows nothing – she came after I brought Juliet to crèche. Please believe me.’
‘And you took the day off to be with her.’
He said nothing.
‘Who is it?’ she demanded again.
‘Someone from work, you’ve never met her. Please, Ellen—’ She’d had enough. She left the room, stunned. Leo followed, still pleading. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry. I was stupid.’
She opened the front door.
‘Don’t go, Ellen – don’t leave like this, please.’
‘I’m picking up Juliet,’ she said through lips that felt stiff. ‘Don’t try to stop me,’ and she was pulling her bag behind her, walking out into the rain that had started while she was inside, shaking with cold and fright and exhaustion, fighting not to wail like an animal, not to bellow like a bull. She was walking away from him, away from his house, away from their life, and she had no clue where she was going.
Juliet. She must get Juliet. Back on the High Street she flagged down a taxi and gave the address of the crèche. The driver darted an enquiring look at her but said nothing. In the back of the taxi she tried to compose herself for Juliet, and whatever adults she’d have to deal with.
‘A family emergency,’ she said. ‘I have to take her,’ and one of the assistants went off to get Juliet, and she was brought out in her outdoor clothing, and she said ‘Mummy!’ and flung herself into Ellen’s arms, and Ellen held her close and squeezed her eyes shut for a few precious seconds before bundling her out and into the waiting taxi.
‘Where to?’ the driver asked, and Ellen gave the name of the deli. Claire would help. Claire would know what to do – but all she found there were two young staff members in olive green aprons. ‘She had errands to run this morning,’ one of them told Ellen. ‘Said she’d be late.’
‘I need to make a phone call,’ Ellen said. ‘I’m a friend of hers.’
‘There’s a phone in the back room,’ she was told, so she left Juliet with them and dialled Maggie’s number.
‘It’s Ellen,’ she said, her voice cracking. ‘Maggie, there’s been – I’m – I have Juliet, and we need a place to stay for a day or two. I just got home from . . . America, I came early, and Leo—’ She broke off, unable to say it.
‘That’s no problem at all,’ Maggie said. ‘Are you coming now?’
‘Yes, I’m at – a friend’s deli, but she’s not here. I know it’s a terrible imposition, but I—’
‘You have my address, haven’t you?’
‘Not on me. Remind me.’
Maggie told her the street and the number, and Ellen pulled a pen from her bag and scribbled it on her hand. ‘Thank you so much,’ she said, and hung up, and leant against the wall to steady herself before reclaiming her daughter and setting off again.
‘We’re having an adventure,’ she told Juliet on the way. ‘We’re going to Maggie’s house.’
‘Is Daddy coming?’
She swallowed a lump in her throat. ‘Daddy’s busy with work, so it’s just you and me.’ How long would that lie last?
‘I want Madeline,’ Juliet said, and Ellen realised that she had nothing for the child, no clothes, no toys, no doll that her new uncles had brought her from France at Christmas.
‘We’ll get her, darling. We’ll get Madeline soon.’
The sight of Maggie, so kind, so capable, so unquestioning, made Ellen want to burst into tears. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured. ‘I didn’t know where else to go.’
‘There’s a bed ready,’ Maggie replied, indicating the stairs, ‘second door on the right,’ drawing Juliet away. ‘Come on, pet, we’ll make buns while Mummy has a nap.’
Ellen trailed upstairs, too numb for even a thank you. She was sure she wouldn’t sleep, despite her exhaustion. She would lie on the bed and try to collect her thoughts – but she did sleep, soundly and deeply, and when she woke it took a few minutes to understand where she was, and for the nightmare to come crashing back.
She looked around. The wallpaper had flowers on it. The carpet was tan, with more flowers. A knob was missing from one of the dressing table’s drawers. A basketball sat on the floor under the window, whose curtains – yellow – were apart. The sky outside was white.
She wished to be back in California, under a perfect blue sky. She wanted to be eating peanut butter cups with Danny, or catching the bouquet that Bobbi had thrown right at her, knowing that Ellen yearned to be married to Leo.
The thought of him brought back the ugly scene in the kitchen. She saw again his panicked face, the wrongly buttoned shirt. She heard his forced laugh.
A one-off , he’d said. A stupid impulse . He’d slept with someone else in their bed. Had it really happened? Had he really done that to her? Maybe she was still asleep. She pinched herself, and felt it.
Everything was unpredictable now. Nothing was stable any more. She understood why people talked about having the rug pulled out from under them.
Downstairs she ate the poached egg on toast that Maggie made for her, and a bun afterwards that she didn’t want, but ate because Juliet had made it.
‘I have a camp bed,’ Maggie said while Juliet watched cartoons in the sitting room. ‘We can put it into your room for Juliet.’
‘He had someone in the house, Maggie.’ Her chin wobbled. ‘I came home early because I wanted to tell him I’m pregnant. I did a test in California.’
‘Oh, lovey,’ Maggie said, covering Ellen’s hand with hers. ‘Oh, lovey.’
‘I’m going to find us a place to rent,’ Ellen said. ‘Will you still come? I’ll try and get somewhere not too far away.’
‘Of course I’ll still come. You’ll need me more than ever when the second little one arrives.’
‘Thank you.’ She’d have to get another week off work so she could sort things out. Could she afford crèche fees on top of rent, and Maggie’s salary, and groceries, and bills, and whatever else she wasn’t thinking of?
Leo would want to help. He’d want to salve his guilty conscience – but she didn’t want him to. She wanted nothing to do with him. She thought of her mother, tearing up the cheques her husband had sent, and she felt solidarity. They’d both been betrayed.
She looked at Maggie in despair. ‘How did this happen? I thought we were happy. I thought he was happy.’
Maggie just shook her head, and they fell into silence. This should have been such a happy day, Ellen thought. This should have been a day of love and planning. She’d been going to wait a week or two, and then broach the subject of looking for a more suitable house.
‘This will be just for a few days,’ she said. ‘I’ll find someplace else.’
‘You stay as long as you need. You know all mine are moved out, there’s plenty of room.’
‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’ Ellen gripped her hand. ‘I need to ask you to do something else, Maggie. I need you to go to the house and get a few things. Would you do that? I’ll get a taxi to take you there and back.’
‘Make a list,’ Maggie said, and after she’d left, Ellen sat with Juliet in her cluttered sitting room, imagining the meeting between Maggie and Leo, and how the conversation would go.
‘He’s sorry,’ Maggie reported on her return, when Juliet had been tucked up with Madeline in her new bed. ‘He said to tell you he’s sorry. He looked terrible.’
‘I can’t trust him again, Maggie. I can never trust him again’ – but even as she said the words, she couldn’t imagine life without him. How could it be possible? How could she go on?
In the morning she left Juliet with Maggie and got the Tube to the deli, where she found Claire.
‘I heard you were looking for me,’ Claire said, bringing her upstairs. ‘I phoned you, but I only got Leo.’
‘He told you?’
‘He did. I’m so sorry.’
‘Did he tell you why I came home early?’
‘Yes. I’d say congratulations, but . . . Where are you staying?’
‘With Maggie, just for the moment. What time did you leave our house on Sunday?’
‘Around six.’
So it had happened after that. After Claire had gone, after Juliet had been put to bed. He must have rung to tell the woman that the coast was clear. Because of course she’d stayed the night; of course she hadn’t just dropped by after he’d come home from bringing Juliet to the crèche. She’d stayed the night, with Juliet in the next room, and then she’d lain low while he got Juliet up and out. She’d waited in bed for him to come back from the crèche – or maybe she’d got up and made coffee. Maybe that was when they’d had it, before going back upstairs.
‘I need to phone Frances,’ she said. ‘Can I use the downstairs phone?’
‘Use mine here,’ Claire said. ‘I’ll leave you alone.’
‘Hello?’
The sound of the familiar sharp tone was wonderful. ‘Frances,’ she said, ‘it’s me, Ellen. I’m back in London.’
‘You were talking to Joan.’
‘What? Joan? No.’ She tumbled out the events, the pregnancy discovery, the changed flight, the shock of Leo’s betrayal. ‘We’re staying with Juliet’s nanny. I’m not going back to him, Frances. I’ll find somewhere to rent.’
‘Oh, God love you, my pet. I’m so sorry to hear that.’
There was a pause. Ellen’s sluggish brain rewound to something that had snagged there. ‘Why did you mention Joan?’
‘She rang me yesterday. She was waiting till you came home from America to ring you.’
‘What did she—?’ And abruptly, she remembered. ‘The tests my mother was having.’
‘Yes. It’s not good, Ellen. It’s cancer that started in her lungs, and it’s spread too far for them to do anything.’
‘Oh, God.’ Ellen bowed her head. It was too much. She would break; she would snap in two under the weight of it all.
‘I’m going to go and stay with her,’ Frances said. ‘She needs someone to look after her’ – but even as she spoke, Ellen could see what would happen. It was the only thing that made sense, although the thought of it dragged her down even further.
She’d have to talk to Leo. She shrank from the prospect, but it was unavoidable. He’d have to agree before she could do what she knew was inevitable.
‘I’ll come,’ she told Frances. ‘Juliet and I will come home.’