Chapter 4
FIVE YEARS AGO…
Bernadette checked her reflection in the mirror on her bedroom wall and sighed.
She hated to wear black. She always felt that her skin was too pale for it, and the auburn red hair that had been on half the kids in her family when she was growing up in Ireland was too stark a contrast against the gloom of her ebony skirt and jacket.
Not to mention that she would rather be anywhere else in the world, and be doing anything else in the world, than going to her ex-husband, Kenneth Manson’s funeral.
Last night, sitting around the old oak table in Bernadette’s kitchen, Nina had been in pieces as she’d put the final touches to the eulogy she was giving this morning.
Their daughter was the only one from the family who was willing to do it.
Bernadette felt it wasn’t her place, now that their divorce was behind them. And as for Stuart…
He had held his coffee mug in both hands, as if the heat of it was a comfort, as he’d said, ‘Mum, I have nothing good to say. He never accepted anything about me. Not my relationships, my sexuality, my career choices… He was a bully and a cheat who was as vicious to you as he was to me, so why would I stand up there and say what a great guy he was?’
Bernadette admired his honesty, but felt the familiar tug of guilt that she’d allowed her ex-husband to make her son feel that way.
She would always regret not leaving Kenneth sooner.
Why had it taken thirty years? Her only defence was that she’d thought she was doing the right thing, because Kenneth had made it clear that if she left him, he’d fight her for custody, and he’d told her repeatedly that he was such an upstanding pillar of the community, he’d win.
She just hadn’t been sure enough, or perhaps brave enough, to take the risk.
So, instead, she’d stayed and tried to give Nina and Stuart the best childhood they could possibly have.
Now that they were adults, the verdict on her decision was split.
For Nina, it had been the right thing to do, but not for Stuart.
It would have been easy for Nina to be upset with her brother’s harsh words, but she understood.
She’d been the apple of her father’s eye, the one who looked like him, enjoyed his company, only ever got the best of him, but who’d also spent her whole life defending Stuart against Kenneth, being the buffer between them.
Bernadette had long accepted that Nina’s love for her father was complicated – Nina saw all the negatives that Stuart experienced, yet for her it was balanced to a degree by the goodness she saw in in her dad and the love he’d bestowed on his favourite child. It was understandable.
That’s why writing the eulogy had been so painful for her daughter and Bernadette had done her best to support her and be positive about the words Nina would say.
There would be two other speakers – Murray Atkins and Sir Lester Kelaney.
The former was one of Kenneth’s oldest friends, a fellow cardiac surgeon, based in Edinburgh, who’d graduated just a year or two after Kenneth, and like her former husband, had risen to become highly respected in their field.
Bernadette didn’t know him well, but on the couple of occasions she’d met him, she’d felt that Murray and Kenneth had a strange relationship – brothers in arms, but ruthlessly competitive at the same time.
She suspected it was difficult to have two narcissistic Messiah complexes in the same room.
Sir Lester Kelaney, on the other hand, was a more subdued, much revered gentleman, and an old mentor to Kenneth.
As top dog at one of the Scottish medical community’s governing bodies, Bernadette had met him many times at posh functions and events over the years.
Like Nina, Sir Lester had always chosen to focus on Kenneth’s good qualities: his charm, his fierce intelligence and his surgical brilliance.
Kenneth’s skills in the departments of schmoozing the right people were always in full swing when Sir Lester was in the room.
But they wouldn’t be today. Was it wrong that Bernadette felt there was some sort of justice in that?
Bernadette had long let go of her hatred of the narcissistic sociopath that she’d married, but that didn’t mean she’d forgotten a single moment of the life they’d lived, the world that was made of eggshells she’d had to walk on.
The one where she’d had to make excuses for his rudeness and his disdain for anyone he thought beneath him – which was every other person he ever met.
The world in which she woke up every morning and never knew if she was going to get the charming husband at the breakfast table or the one who would fly into a rage because his fork wasn’t in the correct place.
Who would tell her how she revolted him yet refuse to let her go.
Who told her she was insane when she accused him of having the affairs he’d entertained all through their marriage.
Who said she was weak when it took more strength than he would ever have to stay with him.
Now, this morning, was her one last obligation to Kenneth. One final day of pretending that he was a better man than he’d ever been. She’d spent a lifetime doing that, for the sake of Nina and Stuart, so she could manage a few more hours.
Her black patent clutch purse was on the cream boucle armchair in the corner of the room, so she picked it up before pausing at the door, and taking a breath. This was the last moment she’d be alone today. She could already hear voices from the kitchen. Nina. Gerry. Stuart. Connor.
Gerry and Connor must have arrived in the last few minutes, but Nina and Stuart had both stayed here last night – Nina in her spare room and Stuart on the sofa bed in the living room.
It was the first time in over a decade that they’d all slept under the same roof, and Bernadette had been thankful for it.
Even now, and despite the circumstances, having both of them close to her made her feel peaceful – something she’d craved throughout her marriage. Peace.
The first time she’d truly experienced that feeling was on the day she’d left Kenneth. She closed her eyes as snapshots of that day flitted through her mind.
It was just the two of them. He’d come down to breakfast and was soon in a rage at some perceived slight.
Bernadette had blocked it out, but as far as she could remember, it was something to do with his breakfast not being how he wanted it.
Or maybe it was because her phone rang and broke his rule about no phones at mealtimes.
In all honesty, it could have been about a hundred different things, but it followed the same pattern: he flew into a fury, thumped the table, unleashed a diatribe of scorn in her direction and she held her breath until he finally walked out of the door, off to be a superhero and save lives.
Bernadette had already planned out the day. She’d been carefully packing the things that meant most to her, happy to leave most of her belongings behind. All she’d wanted were photos, her late mother’s jewellery, some clothes and anything else that had sentimental value.
Kenneth had been barely out of the street when her friend, Sarah, had pulled up as planned, and they’d begun loading the car, Bernadette’s hands shaking with every black bag they threw in the back.
When they were done, they’d gone to Nina’s house, so that Bernadette could break the news to her in person. There had been tears, but there had also been understanding and support, and for that, Bernadette would always be grateful.
When she’d told Stuart later that day, he’d reacted with relief and encouragement, both of which had helped to quieten the panic that was rising over how Kenneth would react.
Afterwards, he’d gone through all the stages of narcissistic loss.
The fury. The disbelief. The belittling.
The scorn. Then came the flip, as he switched tack and began doing everything he could to win her back.
All his pleading and declarations of love and regret might have brought some kind of satisfaction if Bernadette hadn’t known him too well.
If there was one thing Kenneth couldn’t bear, it was to lose – and Bernadette was a very real, very public loss.
His ego couldn’t stand it. He didn’t want her back because he truly loved her – he wanted her back so he would win, and Bernadette didn’t take the bait.
Not for a single second had she considered it because her freedom had been the biggest gift she’d ever given herself and she would never surrender that to a man again.
Not ever. She couldn’t even imagine meeting anyone again, but if she did, it would be for friendship.
Fun. Her independence had been hard a fought battle, and she couldn’t imagine a world in which she’d ever give that up again.
As for Kenneth, was it her rejection that ate him up inside?
Was that anger and internal rage the thing that had killed him at not even sixty years old?
He was super fit – cycled to work every day, worked out in the gym five times a week, ate a clean, balanced diet with no cheat days – at least not of the nutritional kind.
The other kind? Well, that was a different story.
Another flashback to their last day together.
She’d gone back to the house later that night to collect more things and he’d come in and found her there.
Nina and Stuart were with her, and for once, Kenneth had delivered a tirade of abuse in front of them.
Head held high, Bernadette had walked down the hallway and opened the door to leave, when she saw that her path was blocked by a stunning young blonde woman.
Bernadette was trying to remember who spoke first, when Nina’s voice snapped her back to the present.
‘Mum, are you ready? The car will be here soon.’
‘I’m just coming, love.’
She checked her watch. Just after 9 a.m. The funeral car was due to arrive in fifteen minutes to take Nina and Gerry, Stuart and Connor, and Bernadette to Glasgow Cathedral for the service.
Bernadette had resisted the idea, saying that as the ex-wife, it didn’t feel right to be in the chief mourners’ car, and several of her friends, Sarah, Alice, Val, had offered to take her, but Nina had insisted.
‘Mum, we’re all there is. This is it. We have no other family, so who would have an opinion on it? ’
She’d still swithered, until Stuart had interjected. ‘Mum, I don’t want to have to look for you in the crowd. Tomorrow will be hard enough, so I want to know you’re beside me.’
So here they were. Final chapter.
Another deep breath as she summoned every ounce of the strength she was going to need to get through today.
This wasn’t for her. It damn well definitely wasn’t for Kenneth.
It was for Nina and Stuart. And that would always be enough for her to pull her shoulders back, grit her teeth and be the support that they needed.
Enough for her to rise above the knowing looks and stares of pity that would undoubtedly come from the attendees who knew of Kenneth’s many infidelities.
Enough to reject her friends’ offers to come and support her.
She didn’t need anyone because she was strong enough to do this on her own.
And knowing that confidence would infuriate the man who’d spent a lifetime telling her she was weak, made her pull her shoulders back just a little bit more.
Downstairs, she went into the kitchen, and saw that Nina and Stuart were already at the table, the same one she’d sat around with them last night.
It felt odd. Incongruous. Since she’d left Kenneth and moved in here, this kitchen had been her place of sanctuary, of freedom, of safety and of so much joy.
Her pals were regular visitors and this table had held countless mugs of tea and more than a few buckets of wine too.
It had been the centre point for giggles and gossip and so much love from the women in her life.
Hopefully this would be the last day that it saw tears too.
The lovely Connor put four mugs in the dishwasher, just as Nina’s husband, Gerry, came in from the hall.
‘That’s the car here. Time to go.’ Bernadette watched as he reached his hand out to Nina, holding her steady as she got up from the table, her face a mask of grief and sorrow.
It didn’t matter a jot to Bernadette that he wasn’t the high-flying academic that Kenneth had envisaged for his daughter.
Gerry was the kind of man her daughter deserved: kind, steadfast, loving – and Bernadette was grateful for him.
Maybe Kenneth’s malevolent influence had taught their offspring what to avoid in a partner, because Connor was a gem of a human being too, someone who loved her son the way he deserved and who’d become a frequent visitor and a much-loved member of the family.
Bernadette reached out and squeezed his hand, conveying a million thanks for being there for them all.
Bernadette hugged Nina before she and Gerry headed out of the kitchen, towards the front door.
Connor was behind them, giving her a couple of seconds with her son.
He was twenty-six years old and so stoic, so smart, yet all she wanted to do was to hold him close.
She settled for another hug and a couple of words of encouragement.
‘We’ll be fine, darling. We’ve got this,’ she whispered, and he nodded, with a sad smile of thanks.
‘I know, Mum. I just want it to be over.’
‘Me too, son.’
He reached out his hand and she took it, realising that he was the one comforting her now.
As she locked the front door behind them and climbed into the long black car, Bernadette wondered if Kenneth was looking down on them now.
On the wife he’d been so relentlessly cruel to.
On the son he’d demeaned and diminished.
On the daughter whose marriage he’d disapproved of.
And she could almost hear him raging at the prospect of having absolutely no control over anything they did after today.
One last day. That was all he was getting. And the most important thing was that he couldn’t cause her, or anyone else, another stab of pain.
As she stepped out of the door of her home, she had no idea that she was about to find out that she was wrong.