Читать книгу The Man I Fell In Love With - Kate Field - Страница 8

Clark was joining us for Christmas lunch. It had been my idea, and I still wasn’t sure if it was the best or the worst one I’d ever had. But I wanted Leo to be with the children for one last Christmas – wholly with us, body and mind, not sneaking off to make furtive phone calls, or leaving before the pudding in an attempt to split his day between us. So Clark had to come; and the delight on Leo’s face when I issued the invitation clarified things for me. It was the best idea for him, and the worst one for me.

The present opening was a subdued affair, despite the jolly Christmas music, the defiantly twinkling fairy lights, and glasses of Buck’s Fizz all round. It all went on too long: I had overdone it during a manic spending spree the day before, as if somehow a bigger stash of presents could compensate the children for the impending loss of Leo. They were pleased; they smiled; but it wasn’t the carefree joy of previous Christmases. I couldn’t see how we would ever get that back.

I had agonised over whether to buy a different present for Leo. In my usual efficient fashion, I had ordered his Christmas gift months ago: a handmade pair of silver cufflinks, each one in the shape of a miniature book, engraved with the title of his favourite novel by the Victorian author Alice Hornby, Lancashire’s answer to Charlotte Brontë. Leo had spent his academic career studying Alice’s life and work, with me as his eager research assistant; he had already published an annotated edition of her novels, and his biography would be launched in a few months, the culmination of a lifetime of work for both of us.

The cufflinks had seemed the perfect present, and in many ways, they still were. But would he want to wear them, and be constantly reminded of me, and all we had achieved together? I gave them to him anyway, and the delight on his face was almost as great as when I had invited Clark for Christmas. And though I had braced myself for a boring gift from him – because, after all, he had known that our time was almost up and could have shopped accordingly – I should have known him better. He gave me a necklace, with a thick round pendant made of green Murano glass, which reminded me at once of that green Fruit Pastille he had found for me on the day we met. There were tears in his eyes as he watched me open the box, and his hands trembled as he fastened the clasp around my neck. And though I recognised that it had been chosen to mark the end, I knew that it promised a beginning too.

‘A bit late to be making an effort, isn’t it?’ Mum said, when she toddled across from the garage with a bottle of cheap sherry for me, wine for Leo, and a Terry’s Chocolate Orange each for Jonas and Ava. ‘Is that a new dress?’

Of course it was: another emergency purchase yesterday. Clark was coming. I wasn’t going to meet him properly for the first time in the same dowdy skirt and blouse I’d worn for the last four years.

‘A new necklace too?’ she carried on. I fingered it: the glass pastille was comfortingly smooth under my finger. ‘Who’s been buying you jewellery?’

‘One of my lovers dropped round with it early this morning.’

‘From Leo, is it?’ Mum asked, ignoring what I’d said: clearly the pitch of my voice was inaudible to pensioners too. ‘Has he dumped the boyfriend then? You should take him back. You’ll struggle to find anyone else, in the circumstances.’

I turned and led her into the living room, without giving her the satisfaction of asking which particular circumstances she had in mind. My age? My looks? My crabby mother living in the garage, overseeing my every move? Leo drew her over to the sofa, distracting her with his quiet, charming conversation, while I hovered in the doorway, wondering how on earth I was going to survive without him.

Audrey and Ethan were next to arrive. Audrey looked stunning in a red wrap dress, blonde hair piled into a sophisticated messy bun, and yet still managed to hug me and say I looked beautiful with impressive sincerity. Ethan was … Well, Ethan was Ethan, no more and certainly no less than he had always been. He had lived a charmed life, and now even age was favouring him; his face had perhaps filled out a little, but it suited him; the confidence that had once seemed a size too big now fitted him like a jacket tailored to the millimetre. With my confidence so recently shattered, I felt oddly flustered to see him again; so much so that when he leaned forward to kiss my cheek, I opened my mouth to wish him a merry Christmas instead, twitched my head, and somehow managed to catch his kiss perfectly on my parted lips.

‘And a happy Christmas to you too, Mary,’ he said, laughing, and all at once we were teenagers again, partners in fun, and I couldn’t help laughing along with him; the first time I had laughed in days, it felt.

Ethan’s arrival brightened the mood for a while; his liveliness was infectious. Jonas and Ava were fascinated by him, and by the selection of hoodies, rucksacks and other paraphernalia that he insisted all the coolest New York teens were wearing. I could have kissed him again, deliberately this time, when I heard Ava’s laughter drifting into the kitchen, and Jonas sounding more animated than usual as he explained to Ethan the intricacies of one of the Xbox games we had given him for Christmas.

‘It’s a shame they see so little of him,’ Audrey said, echoing my thoughts as she joined me in the kitchen. ‘You should have gone to visit him in New York. His apartment in Brooklyn is the most marvellous place. You would love it.’

We should have gone, and I had suggested it often enough, but Leo had a seemingly inexhaustible well of reasons why we couldn’t. First the children had been too young, then he didn’t want to interrupt school, or something was happening with his career, or the weather would be too hot or too cold, or the cost of the four flights was out of our reach … We had even missed Ethan’s first wedding because Leo had decreed that six-month-old Ava was too small and noisy to travel so far. It was lucky that his second marriage had been to an English girl, and had taken place in Northumberland, as by that time Ava was seven and she would have been even noisier if she had been denied her chance to be a bridesmaid.

But it occurred to me, belatedly noticing Audrey’s use of the past tense, that we wouldn’t ever go to New York now – not the four of us, at least. Leo might take the children one day – possibly with Clark, though the details of that foursome were too painful to dwell on – but I wouldn’t go. My connection with Ethan was over, the chance of free accommodation in New York lost with it. Not only Ethan – my link with Audrey had been pulled apart too. All the fine threads that criss-crossed between our families, binding us together, had been sliced through by Leo’s hand – by Leo’s hand holding Clark’s hand. Whilst it might be insignificant to him – I only had Mum, and it was unlikely he would be sorry to escape her – the prospect of a severance from Audrey was only marginally less painful than losing Leo.

‘You won’t be tempted over there, will you?’ I asked. ‘Now that Leo isn’t around to keep you next door …’

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Audrey replied, taking my hand. ‘You were never just Leo’s wife to us. You must know that.’

I did, at heart, but it was easy for the doubt to creep in: the rejection by Leo was so fundamental that it was like the first in a chain of dominoes, and as soon as our marriage tumbled, I expected them all to fall.

The doorbell rang. Audrey clung to my hand as we heard Leo’s footsteps clack along the tiled floor towards the front door – going at the perfect, steady pace, with neither unseemly haste nor false reluctance. It had gone quiet in the living room, so the sounds from the hall carried through to us with no competition: the rattle of the keys; a muffled exchange of words; a low laugh, from Clark, I guessed; and then a moment of silence. Dear God, were they kissing? Were they kissing in my hall? My chest began to burn with the effort of not breathing, as I strained to work out what was happening.

Audrey squeezed my hand, a sharp, painful squeeze, and gave me one of her rare stern looks.

‘You can do this,’ she said, and she removed my pinny, tidied my hair and steered me in the direction of the hall.

I couldn’t look at Leo; didn’t want to know if happiness was shining from his face, or see lips that might have recently been kissed by someone other than me. Instead I fixed my attention on Clark. He smiled – a nice smile, open and friendly – and stepped forward.

‘Happy Christmas, Mary,’ he said. ‘It was kind of you to invite me.’ He held out his hands, an exquisite bouquet of flowers in one, and an expensive box of chocolates in the other. ‘These are just a small thank-you.’

For what? For giving him Leo? It was a very small thank-you for that.

‘A thank-you for the meal,’ Clark added, appearing to read my thoughts.

‘You’re welcome,’ I said, ridiculously polite. What next? Send them up to our bedroom with my blessing? ‘I’d better hide them away. You might want them back once you’ve tasted the food.’

Leo laughed, as if this was the wittiest thing he’d ever heard; although I suppose he had just been marooned with my mother.

‘Come in and meet everyone,’ he said, and ushered Clark into the living room, with me trailing behind like an ancient bridesmaid. The room was already silent when we entered, but the silence seemed to thicken as all eyes swivelled towards Clark; all eyes except Ethan’s. He looked at me, eyes the colour of a hazy summer sky, scouring my face first before turning to study Clark.

Leo made hasty introductions.

‘Mary’s mother Irene, Ava, Jonas, my brother Ethan …’

No one moved. And then Audrey, lovely Audrey, in her cheery red dress, came dashing in and rescued us all from our torpor.

‘Don’t forget me,’ she said – positively trilled – and without a second’s hesitation she pulled Clark into a hug and kissed both of his cheeks. It was exactly the way she had greeted me when Leo had first introduced me, with enthusiasm and delight, apparently oblivious to the chaos of a house move going on around her. Now she was oblivious to the awkwardness around her – or perhaps she wasn’t, and this was her way of dealing with it. Whichever it was, it worked. Ethan rose and shook Clark’s hand, Ava and Jonas mumbled a greeting, and Mum inclined her head to acknowledge his presence. And Leo looked so proud – of Clark, of Audrey, of all of us – that I had to dash into the kitchen to get a grip on my emotions, terrified that the achievement of not having cried since my dad left thirty years ago might be about to come to a loud and messy end.

Christmas lunch was a triumph in a culinary sense, despite my having siphoned off a bottle of Prosecco for my own use, whose contents vanished with mysterious speed. A combination of alcohol and Audrey helped smooth the rough edges off the awkwardness we all felt; with the exception of Ava, who wasn’t allowed a drink, and my mother, who was genetically programmed to wallow in awkwardness wherever she could find it.

It was impossible not to notice the parallels between this and my first meeting with the Blacks all those years ago; impossible not to think how bizarre it was that I should witness my mother-in-law getting to know my replacement. We learnt that Clark was forty-one, the same age as Leo; that he had two parents, two sisters and four nephews. We found out that he was the Donor Communications Manager for a famous children’s cancer charity based in Manchester, a job that he described with humility, enthusiasm, and compassion. We heard that his hobbies were films, cycling, and cooking. But above all else, I discovered that he was an intelligent, amusing, lovely man. I liked him. I had no idea if that made things a thousand times better or a million times worse.

After dinner, Ava pulled out the box of Trivial Pursuit for the traditional game of everyone trying to beat Leo. I ducked out this year, letting Clark take my place, and went to tidy the kitchen, finding simple pleasure in restoring order in the one area I could. Noise and laughter floated down the hall.

‘What are you doing?’

Ethan followed me into the kitchen and pushed the door shut.

‘Tidying up.’

‘I don’t mean in here.’

I knew exactly what he meant, knew what he was going to say, and it was one of the reasons why I had spent the whole of Christmas Eve out shopping, so that there was no danger of this conversation taking place. I grabbed a pile of cutlery, and fed it into the dishwasher with as much rattling as I could manage.

Ethan touched my arm.

‘Mary.’ I ignored him. He grabbed the cutlery from me, threw it in the basket and slammed the dishwasher door closed. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

‘With me?’ That riled me. How was any of this my fault? ‘Nothing.’

‘That’s my point. Leo’s about to leave you, and you look about as bothered as if you’d run out of milk.’

‘Of course I’m bothered! I don’t want him to go. Would you prefer it if I stayed in bed and cried into my pillow? Or if I shouted abuse at him and cut up all his suits? Do you think that would help Jonas and Ava?’

‘It might help you. It might show Leo that you do actually care, and that he has something to stay for.’

‘Me being me isn’t enough to make him stay, is that what you’re saying? That I’ve driven him away? Thanks for that vote of confidence.’

‘That’s not what I meant …’

‘And what makes you qualified to give me advice on relationships, with your two failed marriages and string of ex-girlfriends?’

Perhaps I had gone a bit far with that one – his second wife had been unfaithful, according to Audrey – but what right did he have to stand in my kitchen, berating my indifference? I knew some people would find my reaction odd, but I thought Ethan knew me better.

‘I know exactly what you’re doing. You block out things that are difficult, pretend they’re not happening. It’s what you’ve always done.’

‘That’s not true!’

‘What is it then? Some grand sacrifice for Leo? You love him, but you’re letting him go? Listen to me, Mary. It’s not heroic or noble to do that. It’s the wrong choice. If you want something enough you should carry on fighting for it, even if you get knocked down a thousand times, and no matter the collateral damage. Don’t condemn yourself to a life of loneliness and regret.’

He gazed at me then, and it was as if he’d ripped open that confident jacket, and shown me someone entirely different underneath. I didn’t know what to say, and was spared having to say anything when Leo walked in. He looked from Ethan to me, and back to Ethan.

‘What are you saying to her?’ I had never heard Leo’s tone so sharp.

‘The truth.’ Leo’s head jerked back as if Ethan had struck him on the chin. ‘I told Mary that she needs to fight to keep you.’

‘Do you have a problem with Leo being gay?’ I asked. There had always been tension between these two, but this level of animosity was new.

‘Not in the slightest. I only have a problem with him deciding he’s gay now, years after marrying you.’

‘I haven’t made the decision. I met Clark, and I can’t ignore what I feel for him.’ Leo stared at Ethan. ‘You can’t help who you fall in love with. You should understand that.’

And Ethan, whom I had never before seen lost for words, simply shook his head at Leo and walked out.