‘I just don't know how.’
Katie thought hard. Her brain was befuddled but it made sense. What goes around comes around. It would be karma, just karma, with a little outside help.
‘What does he care about most?’ Stephanie was saying. ‘Not me or you obviously.’
‘What people think of him,’ Katie said, without hesitation, then wondered why she had said it. Was it true? She wished she could think more clearly. She really shouldn't drink in the day.
Stephanie laughed. ‘That's probably right.’
‘Like he's asked me to order caviar for his birthday party so that our friends will be impressed. I mean, caviar, can you imagine?’
‘His birthday party? How do you know about that?’ Stephanie asked, sounding confused.
‘I'm arranging it,’ Katie said. ‘On the Sunday night. Everyone's coming.’
Stephanie was looking dazed. ‘So he's having a fortieth birthday party on the Saturday night, which I'm saddled with arranging, and another on the Sunday, courtesy of you. He's unbefuckinglievable.’
Katie, who had been planning James's party for months and who had been really looking forward to making sure it was the best birthday he'd ever had, felt sick. ‘I even asked him if I should invite his family and he said no, he'd be having a quiet dinner with a few close friends and their children on the Saturday. And that Finn would be there, and he was the only family James cared about.’
Stephanie laughed. ‘And about forty other people. He told me not to bother inviting people from Lincoln
because it'd be too far for them to travel and, anyway, they wouldn't enjoy it.’
‘So, who's coming?’ Katie said.
‘Well, his friends — he was telling the truth about that. People from work, neighbours, parents of Finn's friends.’
‘I wonder if Peter and Abi will show up.’
‘Oh, I do hope so.’ Stephanie smiled. ‘I'm dying to meet them.’
‘Me too. Maybe I should suggest inviting them up to Lincoln. See what he says.’
Stephanie took a deep breath. ‘Maybe that's it. Maybe we tell him we know what he's been up to in the middle of one of his birthday parties — in front of all his friends and colleagues. Public humiliation, that might work.’
Katie nodded. Her heart was racing. She couldn't be sure if it was from the alcohol or the excitement. ‘OK,’ she said.
‘Are you sure you're up for it?’ Stephanie asked. ‘I'd understand if you weren't.’
‘Are you joking?’ Katie said, slurring slightly. ‘I'm looking forward to it,’ she added, not completely convincingly.
‘We need to plan it carefully. Work out exactly what we're going to do.’
‘And what do we do in the meantime?’
‘In the meantime he mustn't guess that anything's wrong so we carry on as normal. Make him feel loved. That way it'll be even more of a shock. The more he thinks he needs us, the harder it'll hit him.’
When they stood up to say goodbye Stephanie was aware that she was tottering a little. Katie reached out to give her a hug and she reciprocated awkwardly;
neither really knowing if it was the appropriate thing to do. Then there was an uncomfortable moment when they realized they were both headed for the station and they decided to share a taxi. On the platform they hugged again. Natasha was right, Stephanie thought. This was getting weird.
14
By the time James's car pulled into the drive of
79
Belsize Avenue at six forty-five, Stephanie was home and drinking coffee to disguise the smell of all the wine she had consumed. She was feeling slightly woozy, not being used to drinking in the day, and the train journey home had gone by in a blur. By the time she had left, she and Katie had the first stages of Operation Get Revenge On the Two-timing Shit all planned out. Katie was going to continue being sweet and unassuming and nurturing and unchallenging, while Stephanie was going to try to remould herself into the woman James had once been passionately in love with — if only she could remember who that woman had been, that was. She had no idea, really, if it would even be possible to win him over once more, the gulf between them having, as she saw it now, grown so wide, but if the plan was to have maximum impact then he needed to want both women equally.
‘I always give him a massage,’ Katie had said, ‘when he arrives on a Sunday. To help him relax after the long drive. He says it destresses him.’
‘Oh, God,’ Stephanie had said. ‘OK.’
James had come in, claiming tiredness from a stressful day at work (exhaustion from leading a double life, Stephanie had thought), and gone straight up to have a bath, stopping briefly on the way to say hello to Finn and hear
about what had happened at school today (‘Nothing’), what Sebastian the cat had eaten for breakfast (tuna and smoked trout), and about Arun Simpson's hamster's untimely demise.
‘And then it lay on the floor all twitching with its eyes going open and shut,’ Finn had said, relishing the goriness of the moment. ‘And Arun said that it was making a noise like this,’ he'd added, making a guttural sound from the back of his throat and lolling his tongue out of his mouth for added effect.
‘How sad,’ James had managed to reply without laughing. ‘Poor Arun.’
He'd kissed Stephanie (now in a swirly-patterned blue and green wraparound dress that James had once said he liked and impractical high heels) perfunctorily as he passed.
‘Tired?’ she'd said to his retreating back, hoping she wasn't slurring.
‘Knackered,’ he'd called.
‘Shall I bring you up a glass of wine?’ she'd shouted up the stairs.
‘When I get out,’ he had shouted back. ‘You have one if you can't wait,’ he'd added, making her feel like an alcoholic. Stephanie had sighed and retreated to the kitchen where she was preparing Thai chicken curry.
She always cooked but ordinarily she would have got the sauce from a jar, adding organic chicken, but today she was making it from scratch, stirring peanut butter and coconut milk in a wok with chillies and garlic. She had no idea, really, what she needed to do to make James notice her again, but looking nice and cooking him a
homemade meal wouldn't hurt. When he came down from his bath she could hear him on the PlayStation with Finn. There was no doubting he loved his son, she thought sadly, then forced herself to remember what the task at hand was. He might be a good father but she deserved better.
Once she had served up the food (plus fish fingers for Finn who might be middle class but he wasn't yet
that
middle class), Stephanie steeled herself and then moved round to the back of James's chair and began to massage his shoulders.
‘What are you doing?’ He laughed.
‘I thought you might feel a bit tense, you know, working all day. I thought this might help.’ God, she felt stupid.
He squirmed away playfully. ‘OK, Finn, something's up. Has Mummy crashed the car?’
‘I just thought you might like it,’ Stephanie said, somewhat desperately.
Finn was laughing too, now. ‘Did you crash the car, Mum?’ he said delightedly.
‘No,’ said Stephanie, giving up and sitting at the table. ‘I didn't.’
‘Silly Mummy,’ James said patronizingly, and she wanted to hit him.
‘The thing is,’ Stephanie said to Natasha on the phone later, up in the bedroom with the door shut, ‘that's just not how we are. Not any more, anyway.’
‘Exactly,’ said Natasha. ‘He's got Katie for sex and fun, and you for raising his child.’
‘Great,’ Stephanie said, more demoralized than ever.
‘That came out wrong. What I mean is that they're probably still in that phase, you know, when it's all about the physical stuff. Your relationship's more real.’
‘Less exciting, you mean.’
‘No. More meaningful.’
‘Well, apparently meaningful's not enough. Sex and fun win.’
Natasha tutted. ‘Steph, you have to keep in your head that what James is doing isn't a criticism of you. It's all about him. It's his mid-life crisis, not your failure as a wife.’
‘It doesn't feel like that.’
Natasha wasn't giving up. ‘That's because he's made you feel like this. Isn't that why you're doing what you're doing?’
Stephanie sighed. ‘You're right. Of course you are. You're always right. It's just hard, that's all.’
‘I know it is but it'll get easier, I promise.’
‘If you say so then it must be true,’ Stephanie said, smiling a little. ‘Night.’
Five minutes later her mobile rang.
‘He just called me,’ Katie's voice said. They had agreed to keep each other appraised of James's movements.
‘And?’
‘He said Abi's out for the evening so it's just him and Peter. Apparently they're thinking about going to the pub. What's he really doing?’
‘Reading to Finn. He loves James to read to him before he goes to sleep.
Robinson Crusoe
, I think. It's one of his favourites.’
‘Right.’
‘What else did he say?’
‘That he misses me.’ She paused. ‘That he loves me, you know, all the usual.’
‘Are you feeling OK?’ Stephanie asked, not a question she had ever imagined herself putting to a mistress of her husband's.
‘I guess so. How about you?’
‘Better since this afternoon,’ Stephanie said.
‘Me too. Oh, and he said he'll call me back later to say goodnight.’
‘Excellent. I might see if I can get in the way, just to amuse myself. If we're going to do this we might as well try to enjoy it.’
‘I'll text you if he manages to get through,’ Katie said, and rang off.
James was watching TV in the living room, Sebastian purring on his lap. Finn was in bed. Stephanie automatically went to sit on the small sofa — her usual spot — while James sprawled on the three-seater. As soon as she'd sat down she thought that maybe she should have wedged herself on there with him, tried to force some physical closeness.
‘Another drink?’ he asked, standing up.
‘Lovely,’ she said, thinking, Well, if all else fails I'll just get pissed and jump on him. That should get his attention. She tried to think when they had last had sex. She had a horrible feeling it might have been before the move to London. Surely they must have done it since. Of course,
he
'd had lots of sex in the meantime. Just not with her.
They watched
Project Catwalk
and
Ramsay's Kitchen
Nightmares
in a quite companionable way. They'd always bonded over reality TV, laughing at the people, the unspoken relief that they weren't like them, that they were superior somehow. At ten past ten James stood up and walked towards the door. ‘Just got to ring Malcolm,’ he said.
Stephanie stood up too. She waited for him to go upstairs, then followed him, picking up clothes off the floor as if she was randomly tidying up. James looked a bit edgy and put his phone back into his pocket.
‘Oh, sorry,’ Stephanie said. ‘Do you need me to get out of the way?’
‘No, no, of course not,’ he said. ‘I just need to ask him how the Collinses’ foal's getting on. It was colicky.’
Stephanie smiled at him. ‘Well, go ahead.’
‘Actually,’ he said, ‘I've just remembered he had a date this evening. I'll try him later.’
‘Oh, OK,’ she said. ‘Has he finally admitted he's gay, then?’
James laughed. ‘No chance.’ He put the phone into his pocket and wandered down the stairs again. Stephanie followed, chatting away about nothing in particular. It was amazing, she thought, how cheered she felt by this tiny victory. Maybe Natasha was right. Maybe there was fun to be had in watching James squirm.
An hour later, at about a quarter past eleven, James stood up for a second time. ‘I'm going to try Malcolm again,’ he announced, and moved towards the door.
‘Oh, I don't think you should. It's too late,’ Stephanie said. ‘What if you were wrong about him having a date and he's gone to bed already?’
She could have sworn she saw James blush. ‘Well, he'll have turned his phone off if he's gone to bed, won't he?’
‘Not if the Collinses’ foal is sick,’ Stephanie said. ‘He's probably on call this evening. It would be a shame to disturb him if you don't have to.’
‘It's fine,’ James said firmly. ‘He asked me to ring him.’
He left the room and Stephanie smiled. He was rattled. He would be trying to think of an excuse to give Katie as to why he hadn't called her earlier in the evening.
Katie was sitting in front of late-night TV, although she wasn't watching it. She had got home from meeting Stephanie in a kind of alcoholic daze. She'd fallen asleep on the train and nearly missed her stop, waking only when the person next to her had tapped her on the shoulder because they wanted to get off. It had gone well, she thought. Stephanie had been friendly enough, and Katie thought she had certainly seemed to accept that Katie hadn't set out to hurt her and that was the important thing.
She was trying to work out if they would have had anything in common if it hadn't been for James. They would have got on, she was sure, but she wasn't certain they would have been friends. Their personalities seemed as different as their looks. Stephanie was… what was the word?… measured. Cool and cynical and pessimistic. Katie was a passionate, glass-half-full kind of woman, or at least she liked to think so. She was so deep in thought that she jumped when her phone rang. She yawned to get herself into the right mood, then muted the television.
‘Mmm… hello?’ she said, in her best just-been-woken-up voice.
It was James, as she had known it would be.
‘Shit, sorry. Were you asleep?’
‘Mmmm…’
‘Sorry. We went to the pub and I lost track of time,’ he said all too convincingly.
‘Just you and Peter?’ Katie said.
‘Abi met us there for last orders. She'd been to the theatre.
Sound of Music
,’ he added, as an afterthought.
‘Really? Who with?’
‘No idea. Friends, I guess.’
‘And did she enjoy it?’
‘I think so. Listen, love, I just called to say goodnight, that's all.’
‘Who was playing Maria?’ Katie asked, nearly laughing although she didn't know why. It was unbelievable, the ease with which he could lie.
‘I didn't ask. Look, I have to get up in the morning.’