Chapter 24
Thought of the day…
Careful what you wish for, because what if you get it, but it doesn’t serve you?
(Champagne and cake are the exceptions.)
It was before dawn when I woke, the dull whomp-whomp of the helicopter off in the distance. Julian had left. He’ll be okay, I told myself firmly, heading off any catastrophising before it took hold.
A hand reached for me under the covers, and I rolled over to face Tommy.
‘Hello,’ I said, lacing my fingers through his.
‘Hello.’
The dim light cast shadows across his face, making him look like a different person. I trained my eyes on each of his features in turn until he looked like Tommy again.
We locked eyes.
‘What’s going on in there?’ he asked, glancing at my forehead.
I sniggered softly. ‘Just thinking about Julian.’
‘Ahh.’ He pretended to pull away, making me laugh.
‘Not like that – come back to me.’
He faced me again, eyes creased at the corners and a slight smile on his lips. My breath caught at how beautiful he was.
Come back to me. The words called to me, a siren’s song. Is that what I wanted, for Tommy to come back to me?
Yes. The voice inside my head was decisive and clear.
But how? The thing that had driven us apart remained – I’d just lived it out in real time. Reality intruded, coiling cold and tight within me.
‘Well, that’s not about Julian,’ he said, his eyes narrowing as he watched me intently. ‘You seem sad.’ He reached for my cheek, caressing it lightly with the back of his fingers. ‘Why are you sad?’
I chewed on my lower lip. Tell him the real reason and spark the conversation we’d been avoiding, or brush it off and enjoy the rest of our time together? But that would have been the coward’s way out. And I wasn’t a coward.
I sat up, holding the duvet to my chest one-handed and looking straight ahead.
‘Ally?’
Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, I told myself. If we were going to have this conversation – which was long overdue – then I had to go back to the beginning. The beginning of the end.
‘When you got the job – this one, as an investigator or whatever you are – why didn’t you… I don’t know… tell me? Don’t you think we’d still be together if you’d just told me – I mean, sworn me to secrecy, obviously, but… you let it come between us.’
I was surprised at how measured I sounded, but a version of this question had been brewing for a decade. I might’ve only just learned what had driven that wedge between us, but I’d chewed it over plenty of times. And there was something cathartic about finally saying it out loud.
‘Oh, right.’
Now Tommy sat up, also pulling the duvet to his chest and there we were, side by side, legs stretched out and both staring straight ahead, our fingers still laced beneath the covers.
A stifling cloud of tension descended, making it difficult to breathe. But I didn’t speak, didn’t so much as twitch, as the thorniest question I’d ever asked anyone hung in the air between us.
Seconds passed, perhaps minutes, then he finally spoke.
‘I suppose the short answer is immaturity.’
‘And the long answer?’ I snapped, irritated by his glibness. Didn’t he know I needed more? So much more.
He cleared his throat, but I still didn’t look at him, sensing that if I did he’d retreat. If he needed more time to order his thoughts, then he could have it. It might be our only chance to discuss this properly, and I wanted the truth.
‘Sorry, Ally, but I think that’s the long answer as well,’ he said eventually.
I glanced over and he was looking at me, his face set in a frown.
He wasn’t being glib; he was being truthful.
I gave his hand a squeeze and a small smile appeared for half a second then disappeared. He looked away, then licked his lips.
‘After my first assignment – and I really did go to Peru, like I said – but afterwards, when I came home, you were this… this tether. To reality, I mean. And you have to understand that my work… It felt surreal doing what I was doing – thrilling, but also surreal. Especially that first year. But I had you and you were real. You were my home. And in a way, there became two of me – Tommy when I was home with you, and Tom when I was on assignment.’
‘Tom the spy,’ I said, looking straight ahead again.
‘More or less.’
‘And which one was you – the real you?’
‘They both were, Ally. That’s the thing, you see. I convinced myself I could live both lives. The thrill of the job – travelling someplace new, joining a team, starting a fresh assignment – and the comfort of returning home to London, to my wife.’
I’d figured it was something along those lines, all the times I’d asked myself why.
He’d compartmentalised to make the separation easier.
But I had never considered that it was deliberate – that he’d consciously separated his two lives, taking what he wanted from me, from our marriage, without any regard for the impact on me.
And it hit me as I sat there. I’d always recognised the hurt and the sadness… even the longing, which reared its head on occasion, leading to teary bouts of eating too much chocolate and binge-watching Friends.
But I had never truly dealt with the deep-seated anger I’d been lugging around all those years. Until that moment. Because Tommy’s explanation unleashed a fury that had been dormant for years.
‘You selfish bastard,’ I snarled, flicking back the duvet and climbing out of bed.
I headed straight for the discarded robe, scooping it off the floor and shoving my arms into it, then wrapping it tightly around me, my arms folded across my chest. Fluffy armour.
I rounded on Tommy, shooting him a look so scathing, so ferocious, I’m surprised lasers didn’t shoot from my eyes.
He dropped his gaze, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped. ‘You have every right to call me that.’
‘I know. How dare you leave me crumbs, then tell yourself they were enough. They weren’t.
And you may have thought of me as a safe haven, but you were different when you came home.
Every time. Moody, sullen, distracted… Even when you were there, you weren’t.
And just as I’d start to get a glimpse of Tommy, of my husband, you’d disappear again.
And you have the gall to tell me I left the marriage!
There may have been two of you, Tommy, but one of them was barely a shell. And guess which one I got?’
I whipped around and stalked into the lounge room, pacing its length in front of the picture window as I fumed. Adrenalin pumped through my veins, my heartbeat thudding in my ears.
How dare he.
‘How dare you!’ I shouted into the next room, which made me feel slightly better. But only slightly.
The robe was flapping as I paced, so I scouted for the tie – it was on the floor where Tommy had tossed it.
I snatched it up and tied it around me, tightly yanking the ends just as Tommy stepped into the doorway to the bedroom, wearing only a pair of jeans.
It had always been my favourite outfit on him – jeans and nothing else.
He looked like a model from a Levi’s ad.
I averted my eyes. I may have been furious with him, but my libido had not got the memo.
‘Can I say something?’ he asked.
‘You just did.’
‘Can I say something else?’
I stopped pacing and glowered at him expectantly.
‘Well?’
He grabbed the back of his neck and stretched it to the side, a gesture that meant, What the fuck do I do now? Or in this instance, What the fuck do I say that won’t piss Ally off any more than I already have?
‘How about I make us some coffee, and we go sit out there?’ he asked, dropping his hand and nodding towards the porch.
‘Fine.’
I strode past him into the bedroom and slammed the door, then quickly got dressed in jeans and a tank top – with a bra. Tommy did not get to see the girls unfettered.
When I came out of the bedroom, he was holding two coffees. He handed one to me and I took it without saying thank you, then went outside. I sat and sipped my coffee, staring out at the Aegean. The coffee was delicious, but I wasn’t about to tell Tommy that.
He came out to join me a short time later, having put his T-shirt on (thank god). He sat in the chair next to mine, and we drank in silence. I watched the sky for the falcon and right as Tommy started to speak, she appeared, flying low from one side of the vista to the other.
‘Was that a hawk?’ he asked. The absurdity of our dour morning being interrupted by a bird – my bird, as I’d come to think of her – was nearly enough to make me smile. But not quite.
‘Falcon,’ I replied. Although, it was only a guess. But I wasn’t about to tell him that either.
‘Right,’ he said. Then he was quiet again, long enough for the silence to become unbearable.
‘I thought you wanted to say something,’ I said eventually.
‘I do and…’
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him twist his body towards mine. I darted a look in his direction, catching his expression. Unadulterated penitence, damn him. My heartstrings felt a sharp tug, but I returned my gaze to the view.
‘I’m sorry, Ally. For all of it. I said before it was immaturity – and it was in part – but you were right to call me selfish.
I was selfish and stupid and blind to what I had.
There is no excuse, only reasons, and I realise – hearing myself say all this out loud – how ridiculously feeble they are.
How trite. It was careless of me to treat our marriage like that – reckless, even – and then to blame you—’
‘Exactly,’ I interjected, facing him. ‘You blamed me when I did everything in my power to keep us intact.’
He looked down, staring into his coffee.
‘You’re right about that too.’ He heaved out a weighty sigh.
‘But blaming you was easier than admitting I’d failed you, that I’d let my career become all-consuming to the detriment of our marriage.
I think it helped me miss you less, convincing myself that you wanted the divorce.
It definitely hurt less – or at least I pretended it did. ’
A stone lodged in my chest. All those years, Tommy had been hurting too. I’d told myself he’d abandoned the marriage because that’s what he wanted, that he hadn’t loved me enough. But had I fought for us – really fought for us? And not just compromising, but putting our marriage above all else?
No.
‘Wow, we completely cocked that up, didn’t we?’ I asked.
His head swivelled towards me, and I looked over.
‘Ally, none of this was your faul—’
‘Just…’ I said, raising a hand to stop him. ‘What I said a minute ago, about doing everything I could…’ I shook my head. ‘I didn’t.’
‘But—’
‘No, it’s true. I’ve been thinking about this for the past few days and you weren’t the only one who handled it badly.
I could have done more – a lot more. Why didn’t I say something when my husband started disappearing for huge chunks of time?
Anything – a thousand different things. “Darling, could you possibly stop leaving me alone all the time? I miss you too much when you’re away.
” I mean, it’s not brain surgery, is it? ’
‘Not when you put it like that.’
‘I know that sounds flippant, but I really could have spoken up. Should have. Hindsight is such a powerful thing, isn’t it?’
‘It is. But we were barely in our twenties. Neither of us knew much about anything.’
Our eyes met, and we shared a look of compassion for our younger selves.
‘I really am sorry, though,’ he added. He extended his hand, spanning the gap between our two chairs. I stared at it, torn. Wasn’t this goodbye? A long, tortured, drawn-out goodbye?
Fuck it. I took his hand and he smiled briefly, running his thumb over my knuckles.
‘So, what now?’ he asked, his voice heavy with the question.
‘Now, we go back to our lives, right?’ I asked, looking over again. He peered into my eyes, his grip on my hand tightening.
‘Or…?’
I drew in a shallow breath. I wasn’t prepared for Or…
? I wasn’t prepared for any of this. I’d been too busy doing my own compartmentalising: Julian needs me…
Crisis at Divorced Diva HQ… My new gal pal is the ringleader of a spy network…
Tommy is the best shag I’ve ever had – why not take him for another ride?
Only now there were feelings involved – especially hope, which lingered in the air like a fart after a takeaway korma. And I didn’t dare admit to the L-word, even though it was lurking nearby, ready to pounce.
But what good were hope or love when our circumstances were pitted against us? Tommy’s job made it impossible to sustain a meaningful relationship and I was the Divorced Diva, for fuck’s sake! The divorced part was the primary driver of my entire platform.
What was I supposed to do, change the name?
The Not-So-Divorced Diva. The Once-Divorced-Now-Loved-Up Diva. The Sorry-I-Went-Back-On-Everything-I-Said-About-Divorce Diva.
‘You really need to tell me what’s happening in there,’ said Tommy, dragging me from my thoughts.
‘In there?’
‘Your head,’ he replied, tapping his with a fingertip. ‘Your face is telling tales out of school.’
I sucked my lips between my teeth, desperately searching for the best reply when uneasiness crept back in. Real life is a bitch sometimes.
‘Oh god, I’m not going to like this, am I?’ he asked.
‘No, but neither am I.’
He dropped my hand. ‘But I thought… Never mind.’
‘What? What did you think?’
‘I…’
‘Tommy, what can possibly come of this? Are you quitting your job?’
‘No.’
‘Great, well, me neither. And if I haven’t made it patently clear, my job is being divorced – successfully, blissfully divorced – and shouting about it from the rooftops so other divorced people can feel good about themselves and get their lives back on track and never, ever have to feel as small and helpless and lost as I felt when you left that day and never came back. You never came back… Fuck.’
A sob burst out of me, sending fat tears spilling down my face. I swiped at them, wishing I was anywhere but on that fucking island with the only man who’d ever broken my heart.
‘Ally…’
‘Why didn’t you come back?’ I whispered, my voice strangled.
‘You didn’t want me to.’
‘Yes, I did,’ I squeaked, another sob taking hold.
He scooched his chair closer. ‘Hey…’ He reached for me, wrapping me in his arms and gently stroking my hair, which just made me cry harder.
Tommy wasn’t giving up his job and I wasn’t giving up mine, and they couldn’t have been any less compatible. Simply put, there was no way to make it – us – work.
‘Shh, it’s okay, Ally.’
‘No, it’s not,’ I wailed.
‘No… it’s not,’ he echoed, and my heart split clean in two.