Chapter 40
Pauline leads them all inside, relieved to finally escape the shed. Yes, it was lovely making up with her friends out there, but there are too many spiders. She’s glad Seb won’t need to be in there much longer.
She’s quiet as they sit down at the kitchen table.
‘This is nice!’ Audrey says, patting Pauline’s hand as she takes in the room. ‘It’s a bit more spacious than your outside . . . garden studio.’
Pauline laughs at the diplomacy. It’s not usually Audrey’s style, but she’s on her best behaviour. ‘It’s a shed! It’s my son Seb’s shed. There’s no point pretending otherwise.’ She pauses. ‘But at least there’s an outside toilet. I couldn’t bear to share a loo with my grown-up son.’
‘Having to share a loo with men at all is an abomination,’ Teddy mutters.
‘Seb is an absolute darling!’ Audrey’s eyes light up. ‘A doll and a total dreamboat.’
Ivy beams. ‘Personally, I thought the shed – and the outside loo! – were really sweet.’
Teddy slides into the seat beside Pauline, nudging her a little. ‘Look, Pauline, I know it’s a lot – my plan – and if you don’t like the idea, or need more time . . .’
Audrey leans forward. ‘We’d understand if you’ve changed your mind about John altogether. Maybe he’s a different man now he’s back. Maybe—’
Pauline interrupts. ‘He’s not.’ She shakes her head. ‘He’s pretending to be better, but I keep seeing flashes of the real him. I know it’s only a matter of time. And I think he’ll be even worse once all the attention dies down.’
‘We don’t want it to die down just yet,’ Ivy points out. ‘It’s important to the plan.’
‘Right,’ Teddy nods slowly, ‘I just mean though, Pauline, you don’t have to make a decision right now.
Obviously, the idea hinges on you having to do a lot of being very brave, and I know the last few months have been really difficult for you.
Especially these past couple of weeks. If you need a bit of time to think about it, we understand. We can figure something out.’
Pauline smiles at her friend, then round at Audrey and Ivy. ‘The worst part of John being back was not being able to speak to you three.’
They all smile at each other warmly. ‘Same, my darling,’ Audrey tells her.
Pauline makes a face. ‘But also my terrible husband coming back from the dead and taking my lovely Porsche away from me.’
‘We’ll get that Porsche back, you’ll see.’ Teddy nods with determination.
‘But I do need more time, I’m afraid,’ Pauline admits after a moment.
‘Not because I’m unsure of the plan or have any doubt it will work.
’ She looks to Teddy. ‘I think you’re a genius by the way!
And with the lot of you metaphorically holding my hand, I think I’m capable of all kinds of bravery.
’ She grins, then pauses, glancing towards the rest of the house.
‘It’s just . . . I need a little bit of time because I have to talk to Tilly and Seb first. Before we do anything else, I need to be honest with my children.
I owe them that. I owe them the truth. I’ve started the conversation with my son, but he needs to hear all of it.
’ She takes a moment. ‘I’ve spent too long trying to protect them and I’m starting to realise that’s actually quite selfish of me.
Honestly, I think hiding it was actually more about protecting myself, not them.
I was protecting myself from their reactions, from their pain.
But they’re not children anymore. They need to know the truth about their father. ’
‘What do I need to know about Dad?’ Seb is suddenly at the kitchen door, looking worried.
Pauline turns to him. ‘Oh! Hi, Sebby,’ she says almost shyly. ‘Come in here for a minute.’
‘Tilly’s on her way over,’ he says quickly. ‘I came to warn you.’
Pauline doesn’t acknowledge this. ‘You remember everyone?’ She waves at the group, then pauses, recalling how he was responsible for bringing them all over here.
‘Of course you do.’ They all nod cheerily with familiarity.
Pauline notes a lingering look between Seb and Ivy, wondering what it might mean.
He nods, ‘Hi, you lot. I’m glad you’ve made up. Mum’s been miserable without you.’
‘We’ll get out of your way,’ Teddy says, leaping up. ‘Give you a chance to talk.’
Audrey follows suit, stopping to cuddle Seb.
‘Your mother is a treasure,’ she tells him in a low voice.
‘I want you to promise me you’ll be there for her.
I’m not going to tell you to look after her because she can look after herself, but you can help by being there for her, no matter what happens next. We’ll see you very soon, darling boy.’
He nods dumbly, as they all file out the back door. Ivy pauses to smile sweetly at Seb. ‘Thanks for helping reunite us,’ she says, and Seb stares at her with something like wonder.
‘You’re welcome,’ he replies at last.
Pauline considers how she feels about her son making puppy-dog eyes at her friend. Her friend who did, incidentally, murder her husband.
Good, she decides. She feels good. After all, there’s no denying Seb also has his flaws. Ivy might be a killer, but her son sleeps in a spider-infested shed in his mother’s back garden. Most people, Pauline decides, would probably take a spot of mariticide over that.
She waves them off and moments later, the front door bangs open and shut. ‘Muuuuuum? Daaaaaaad?’ Tilly’s voice echoes through the hallway. ‘Are you here?’
She appears in a flurry of coat being removed and gloves being discarded. Tilly has always filled a room upon arriving anywhere. It’s something Pauline has long admired about her daughter.
‘Dad out?’ she asks and Seb nods.
‘Snooker,’ he replies and Tilly rolls her eyes with affection.
‘Of course! I’m glad he’s immediately found his way straight back into his old routine and old life.’
Pauline makes tea, wondering how she is going to say any of what she has to say. They deserve the truth. She deserves to say her truth, but those first words . . . that part where she has to start talking . . . it feels like a huge, insurmountable thing.
‘Anyway,’ Tilly says breezily, accepting a steaming cup of tea from her mum and making herself comfortable at the kitchen table.
‘I came over because it turns out trying to get insurance on a watch worth a hundred and fifty-eight grand is really difficult.’ She makes a face.
‘They’re saying it’s going to cost me, like, three grand a year!
And I don’t want to be ungrateful but . .
. um, no. You know?’ She smiles sweetly at her mum.
‘Unless you think Dad might be up for paying for it?’
Pauline swallows, wondering if Tilly even hears herself. She is already assuming John is the one in charge of all their money. She has slipped straight back into old patterns and old assumptions.
Nothing will change unless Pauline changes them.
‘Tilly, Seb,’ she begins, her voice shaking a little, ‘I want to talk to you both about something important, if it’s OK.’
‘Wuh-oh, sounds serious!’ Tilly says in a jokey voice. ‘You’re not going to say Dad’s been in another car accident, are you?’
Seb snorts at this, though the memory of sitting around this same kitchen table all those months ago, having to tell both her children that their father was dead, will haunt Pauline for the rest of her life.
To think that he willingly put her through that – and them!
It is all the reminder she needs that she has to say this.
‘No,’ Pauline says carefully. ‘It’s about me and your dad.’ She pauses and Seb – sensing what is coming – reaches over and takes her hand. The gesture undermines Pauline’s bravery and she takes another moment to compose herself. She would rather not cry until everything has been said.
Seb squeezes her hand. ‘Are you splitting up?’ he asks gently and Tilly scoffs.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Sebby!’ she says loudly. ‘Of course they’re not splitting up. They’re very happy together. Dad’s just back from the bloody dead! This is their happily ever after.’
Seb looks at his mum with sad eyes, then turns back to his sister.
‘They’re not happy, Tills. You’d have to be a blind idiot to think that.
They haven’t been happy for as long as I can remember.
’ He pauses, looking at Pauline searchingly.
‘Or, at least, Mum hasn’t been happy. Maybe Dad was – is – I don’t know. ’
He noticed. Why had she always assumed he had no idea? That he was so oblivious? How awful for poor Seb to see his mother so unhappy for all these years. How could she ever have thought he’d be better off that way?
‘Who are you calling a blind idiot?’ Tilly says crossly. ‘You’re talking rubbish. Isn’t he, Mum? It’s rubbish, right? You and Dad are great together. You’re happy. You’re not getting a divorce.’ She says this firmly, like she will brook no argument, but Pauline sits up straighter.
‘I’m sorry, Tilly, but no, it’s not rubbish.
’ She clears her throat. ‘And yes, we probably are splitting up.’ She pauses, thinking about Teddy’s plan.
‘Or at least . . . taking some time apart. I haven’t been happy for a long time.
Things have been . . . very bad. It’s very difficult for me to talk about, but your father, he . . .’ She swallows, suddenly unsure.
Maybe she should’ve rehearsed this, memorised what to say. Her two children wait, looking at her expectantly.
‘He hasn’t been kind to me,’ she says at last. ‘Over the years, he has been very unkind . And I didn’t know how to put that into words for a long time. I thought I loved him, and I thought it was normal, the way he behaved. But I understand now that it’s not OK. It was never OK.’
Tilly is getting red in the face. ‘What do you mean? You’re not saying . . .’ She trails off, looking helpless. ‘Are you saying he isn’t a good man? What does that mean, Mum? What are you saying?’