The Right Time (6 page)

Liz and Ellen sat out on the balcony, working their way through their first glass of red and a wedge of brie. Liz would never have bought an apartment without a balcony, that was almost her only criteria. She needed some space out of doors. In truth she would have loved to buy a house, but houses were for children and pets, it seemed greedy to have a house all to herself. The apartment was convenient, close to work, easy to maintain. But it didn't feel like a home. They'd grown up here in Annandale, only a few blocks away, in a big sprawling house with a yard. Liz suspected the family home remained home until you had your own family. Which was something of a bummer considering her situation.

‘Do you know anything about light therapy?' Ellen asked her.

‘For depression?'

‘No, for skin.'

Liz nodded. ‘Why, are you thinking of trying it?'

‘Yeah, right,' Ellen pulled a face. ‘No, Emma was talking about it, she's on a course of treatment.'

Liz smiled faintly. ‘Of course she is, it's the latest thing. A client asked me about it only the other day.' She shook her head. ‘I'm a dermatologist, a doctor of medicine, and yet I seem to spend all my time fielding queries about Botox and anti-wrinkle creams. Emma once said I was nothing but a glorified beautician. She's probably right.'

Ellen was quiet for a bit, sipping her wine. ‘Do you think Emma was right about not telling Mum and Dad before the party?'

Liz looked at her. ‘Do you?'

‘I don't know, I'm asking you.'

‘I think you should do what feels right for you.'

Ellen frowned. ‘Is that a thinly veiled way of saying that you don't think it's right?'

Liz laughed. ‘No, but that's a hefty dose of not so thinly veiled paranoia you've got going there.' She shook her head. ‘What I'm trying to do is give you unconditional support to do what feels
right for you. I can't tell you what that is, because I'm not you. You know how to handle Mum and Dad better than any of us. If you're really not sure, we can talk about that, but if you're not sure because of something Emma said, well, that's not a good enough reason.'

Ellen smiled. ‘You're very wise.'

‘Aren't I? Especially after a glass of wine. Give me anyone else's problems . . . sorted!' Liz said, raising her glass. ‘Uh-oh, running on empty.'

She picked up the bottle and Ellen held her glass out for a refill.

‘One thing I do know is that Emma will be having a field day with this,' said Ellen. ‘She and Blake are probably celebrating my downfall as we speak.'

‘I don't think she'd actually celebrate it,' said Liz. ‘But don't worry about her. She can be smug if she ever gets Blake to marry her. Now, what shall we drink to?'

‘God, I don't know,' Ellen sighed. ‘Doesn't feel like I have anything to drink to right now.'

‘What are you talking about?' Liz chided. ‘You have a whole new future ahead of you.'

Ellen pulled a face. ‘As a middle-aged single woman?'

‘Well, thanks for that,' said Liz. ‘Should I just end it all now?'

‘Sorry, I didn't mean . . .'

‘And we're not middle-aged!'

‘You're not.'

‘I'm four years younger than you, Len, we're in the same boat. Except you've got kids along for the ride.'

‘Which makes me a single mother,' she shuddered. ‘I've always hated the sound of that.'

‘Oh cripes, Lenny,' said Liz. ‘Don't you realise how lucky you are? You know, I can handle only being with Andrew part-time, and the secrecy, even though it makes me look like the most pathetic dateless woman in the country. But I made my bed and I'll lie in it willingly. The hardest part is that I probably won't have kids now.'

‘Liz . . .'

‘No, it's true. It's still going to be a few years before Andrew can leave Danny, and by then it'll be too late.'

‘Then why are you sticking it out?'

Liz gave her a sidelong glance. ‘Because I love him.'

‘But –'

‘Ellen, are you going to say anything you haven't said to me before?' she asked plainly. ‘
Several
times?'

‘Probably not,' Ellen admitted.

‘So let's drop it. And anyway, we're not talking about me, we're talking about you. And the point I was making is that no matter what else happens from here on in, you have two wonderful children and no one can take that away from you.'

Ellen nodded slowly. ‘I hate that I'm doing this to them.'

Liz gave her arm a squeeze. ‘How are they coping?'

‘Hard to say . . .'

‘Must have been awful telling them.'

‘Mm . . . Sam was in shock, he obviously didn't have the slightest clue.'

‘He's a male,' Liz said automatically, before smacking herself on the forehead. ‘God, that's a terrible thing to say. It just comes out, without thinking. You can't get away with saying something like that about a woman any more, not even as a joke.' She looked at Ellen. ‘Please continue . . . of course the poor kid was in shock.'

‘I went to check on him afterwards, and he asked me if our whole lives had been a lie. Actually, he said “bullshit”.'

‘Ouch. What did you say?'

‘I told him that just because Tim and I didn't feel the same way about each other, that didn't change the way we felt about them, or our family as a unit. That we couldn't have stayed together so long if we hadn't enjoyed our family life.'

‘Did he buy that?'

‘It's the truth!' Ellen exclaimed. ‘As a family, we worked. Just not as a couple.'

‘What about Kate?' asked Liz. ‘How's she taking it?'

‘You know what she's like, she's gone quiet, observing from arm's length. Though she did say she'd suspected things weren't right for a while.'

‘Yeah, well, kids are smart, it's hard to pull the wool over their eyes for long.'

Ellen blinked. ‘Is that what you think we were doing?'

‘I didn't mean –'

‘I really don't want people to think we set out to deceive them, the way Emma seems to think.'

‘You really have to stop worrying about what Emma thinks.'

‘I can't help it. She was suspicious and she's my sister. What are other people going to think?'

‘It doesn't matter what they think.'

‘I wish that were true. I know it's really no one else's business, and no one can know what it was like between me and Tim, but people will still judge, have their opinions.' Ellen paused. ‘I wish there was some way to do this without all the fuss.'

‘We should have contracts for marriage, just like anything else.'

‘Marriage is a contract,' Ellen reminded her.

‘Yes, but it's not like any other contract. I mean, really, imagine going into a contract where death was the only way out.'

‘I guess that's true, especially with everyone living so much longer now. You used to get married when you were a teenager, and you were lucky to live another twenty years. Now a marriage can last three times that long.'

‘Exactly. So what if you just signed up for ten or twenty years?'

‘Then when the term was served, you would have the option to renew, but no obligation.'

‘Wow,' Liz said. ‘What would happen to all the lawyers and therapists if divorce didn't exist any more?'

‘No more guilt or angst, no stigma for kids from broken homes.'

‘There would be no “broken” homes, only expired ones.'

Ellen smiled. ‘You could have a partner to suit every phase of your life.'

‘Yeah, I've heard of that idea,' said Liz. ‘One for sex, one for children, and then one who's your soul mate.'

‘Is the soul mate the one who'll nurse you when you're old?' Ellen asked. ‘That's what I worry about . . . who's going to be there for me then?'

‘Your kids, your sisters, your brother,' Liz pointed out. ‘I've actually had this fantasy for years that Eddie will be left to care for all of us in our dotage. I've told him more than once – we had to change his nappies and wipe his dribble, it'll be his turn then.'

Ellen laughed. ‘What does he say to that?'

‘He said the first sign of dementia in any of us and he's leaving the country with no forwarding address.' She grinned. ‘Anyway, you'll find someone else, Ellen.'

‘Maybe. Eventually. It's not exactly high on my agenda though.'

‘Really? After all those years without sex, I thought you'd be champing at the bit.'

‘The idea of getting naked in front of a man whose babies I didn't bear . . .' She shuddered.

‘You do realise that's every other man on the planet, bar Tim?'

‘Tim was there to see how the damage was done, and there'd be a lot of things he wouldn't have even noticed. You know how it is, you're not aware of changes when you're around them every day. Whereas a stranger has nothing to prepare him for the shock.'

‘Oh for godsakes, Ellen, you're not exactly Frankenstein.'

‘Look, I know I'll probably have to face it one day, but I'll worry about it then. It's hard enough to adjust to the idea of being single. I mean I know this has been coming for a long time, but now that it's here, it feels . . . surreal, I guess. All my adult life I've been a married person. I'm not sure I know how to be anything else.'

‘You're still the same person, Len,' said Liz. ‘And you've done something very brave that most people don't have the courage to do.'

Saying that out loud caused an involuntary twinge in her chest. Liz knew Andrew's situation was more complicated than most, but occasionally she couldn't help but wonder if he was simply not brave enough to end his marriage and deal with the consequences. Was it easier, safer, to maintain the status quo? Liz shuddered, she really didn't want to explore that train of thought.

‘The thing is, Len, whatever is ahead of you, at least you're not going to waste away in a dead marriage. How many people do you know who are really happy in their marriages long-term?'

‘Mum and Dad,' said Ellen plainly.

‘Yeah, they've got a lot to answer for, those two,' Liz sighed. ‘Making us believe a happy marriage was the norm.'

‘Do you think that's why Evie puts up with Craig?'

Liz looked at her.

‘They've got such a strange little 1950s marriage, don't you think?'

‘I don't know, I don't get the attraction, but Evie seems happy.'

‘Do you really think she is, though?'

‘You don't?'

‘I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I don't really know Evie. She's buried in there somewhere, but it's like she's too afraid to be herself, stand up for herself.'

‘Well, that's not surprising with the three of us as big sisters, she was outnumbered into submission. Maybe that's why she ended up with someone like Craig – Evie was born to serve and to please.'

‘God, I could think of nothing worse.'

‘Of course you couldn't. You're the eldest, you were born to rule.'

‘Ha,' said Ellen. ‘So where's my empire?'

‘You lorded it over all of us,' said Liz, ‘which is why Emma's got that massive chip on her shoulder, and why she'll grab any opportunity to stick the knife in, like today. You shouldn't take it personally, Len, it's her own stuff.'

Ellen seemed to be thinking that over. ‘And what about you?' she said finally.

‘Oh, don't you know? I'm the poor misunderstood middle child,' said Liz. ‘Quietly going her own way, not bothering anyone, but always kind, and wise, and incredibly insightful . . .'

Ellen laughed. ‘And just a little blind to her own shortcomings.'

‘What shortcomings?'

‘Honey, can I ask you a question?'

Craig grunted in response but his gaze didn't shift from the TV. Evie snuggled in closer to his side. All the way home she had kept thinking about how lucky she was. She was the most ordinary of
all the sisters, yet clearly she was the happiest. Poor Emma would be such a beautiful bride, but Evie couldn't ever see Blake going through with it. And Liz, the smartest of the lot, stuck in this pointless affair with a married man. And now Ellen and Tim, the model couple, over, just like that. Evie started to think it was fine to be ordinary, to have ordinary hopes and dreams; it was a lot easier to be happy that way.

Then she had been overtaken by a sense of dread. What if Craig wasn't happy? Evie hadn't been able to tell there was anything wrong between Ellen and Tim, they had seemed like the perfect couple. What had started the decline? This? Sitting at home on a Saturday night watching TV, not talking to each other? Not really knowing what the other was thinking?

Ellen said they had fallen out of love. The idea that you could just fall out of love was bewildering to Evie. She loved Craig the same way, well maybe not the
same
way, but she loved Craig like she loved her children, her parents, her sisters. You couldn't just fall out of love with any of them. That was impossible. Wasn't it?

So she had resolved that she would make a special effort tonight. She had stopped off on the way home and bought all of Craig's favourites – the pricey beer with the gold label that they only had on special occasions, a couple of handfuls of king prawns – just for Craig. Evie wouldn't have any, they were too expensive and she couldn't stretch the budget that far. She had bought steak and mushrooms and potatoes for baking – Craig loved his baked potatoes. And she'd smother it all in gravy; she wouldn't even bother with vegetables so he didn't have to push them around on his plate and take a half-hearted couple of bites.

She'd bought some wine for herself – a bottle of sweet sparkling. Craig loved it when she drank. He said it made her more uninhibited, which meant he could probably talk her into giving him oral sex. And Evie had to be at least a bit tipsy for that.