Made in Heaven (39 page)

‘How keen? What does that mean, Ma?' Zannah asked.

‘He says he's in love with me.'

‘And you?' Em sounded tentative. ‘What about you? Are you in love with him?'

‘No, no,' Joss said. ‘He's just … well, he's an attractive man and of course it's flattering but … no, of course I'm not.' Oh, Gray, forgive me. I can't say the words. I can't tell them how much I love you. They're Bob's daughters.

‘Have you slept with him?'

The split second before she answered seemed, to Joss, to go on for hours. She said, ‘No. No, of course I haven't.' (How firm was her voice? Had she sounded convincing?)

And there it was, out in the open: a second lie. Now that she'd spoken it, said it aloud, Joss wondered what its effect would be. Would it stop the questions? Would they be satisfied?

‘And you won't?' Emily wanted to know. ‘You wouldn't, Ma, would you?'

‘No, I wouldn't.'

Lie number three. How easy it was, once you'd started. She was even going to elaborate, to embroider, just in order to make her daughters feel better. She said, ‘You've got to understand, you know. Much as I love your Pa, there are huge … huge parts of my life that he's just not interested in and when I met … Graham Ashton, well, he knew how I felt about so many things that Bob just … isn't … that aren't part of my life with him. We were drawn to one another. We're … friends. Good friends, that's all.'

‘But it's not all, Ma. You've just said he's in love with you.'

Make light of it, Joss thought. Downgrade it as much as you can. ‘Well, people sometimes say things they don't quite mean. And he's devoted to Maureen.'

‘Really?' Zannah smiled for the first time since they'd started this conversation. ‘Can't think why.'

‘You're biased, darling,' Joss said, seizing gratefully on the lighter tone. ‘She's a wonderful homemaker and a terrific cook and these things are important, you know.
She's the mother of his son and they've been together for years.'

‘Like you and Pa,' Emily added.

‘Yes, like me and Pa. And, girls … '

‘Yes?' Zannah spoke for both of them.

‘I want to ask you a favour.'

‘Go on,' said Em.

‘Promise me not to say a word – not a word, to anyone – and especially not to Pa. Promise?'

‘God, Ma, you sound like a teenager.' Zannah was cross and impatient, Joss could see. ‘We won't say anything, but you've got to promise us something as well. Okay?'

‘It depends. What d'you want me to promise?'

‘That you won't see Graham Ashton again. Alone, I mean.'

No, Joss thought. Not that. If I promise that, what'll happen? What'll I tell him? I can't break my word to Zannah and Em. Tears pricked at her eyelids and Joss looked down at her lap to hide her anguish, to blink them away.

‘I promise,' she said. In her head, she was frantically calculating what she'd say to Gray, because she meant to keep her promise. It wouldn't be so bad. Perhaps if she broke off entirely with him, never saw him, never spoke to him, simply severed every tie, she really could learn to love Bob properly again. Paris had been okay. She'd had fun. The lovemaking wasn't spectacular but it was comforting and good and what she'd been used to for years. Surely she could go back to where she'd been two and a half years ago. But did Zannah, did anyone, have a right to tell her what to feel? Joss knew that they didn't. She said, rather tentatively, ‘You seem quite upset, both of you, but you don't have to worry, really. Nothing's going to change.'

Zannah said, ‘You know how I felt about Cal, Ma. I hate anything like this; it … Well, it upsets me. I don't
think adultery is something you can get over, just like that. I don't want you to be unhappy. And you would be. I know you would. How could you live with yourself if you … Well, you know what I mean.'

Joss said mildly, ‘It's not true, though, is it? You can get over adultery. Look at you and Adrian. You're in love with him now, and going to marry him, and presumably you've forgiven Cal. People do get over such things, you know.'

Zannah had the grace to blush. ‘Yes, I know … I was lucky to meet Adrian, and of course I have sort of forgiven Cal but … I can still get quite upset if I start thinking about that time. I was so unhappy. I really did think I'd never get over it.'

‘What about you, Em? How d'you feel about all this?'

‘I don't want you to hurt Pa and I can't imagine you doing it. It's not going to be too hard, is it? Not seeing Dr Ashton unless it's for a family thing? And you and Pa are happy together, aren't you? He's never said anything about … well, about anything like that, really.'

‘Well, no, but he wouldn't, would he? Not to you,' Joss said. ‘You're his daughter.'

‘I'd know if he wasn't happy. And I'm certainly not going to tell him about this conversation, because I don't want to make him miserable.'

Joss said nothing. Neither of her daughters had ever been able to guess at her own state of mind. She'd made a decision early on not to include her children in any quarrels she might have had with their father, and it had worked almost too well. Now Emily thought they were idyllically happy. Not for the first time, Joss wished she were a different kind of woman. There seemed to be thousands of her sex who managed to carry on two relationships at the same time, who could be casual about extramarital sex, who could sleep with another man without falling in love utterly, completely, painfully.
What was the matter with her? She wondered whether Em believed her denial. Had she sounded convincing? As she was wondering about this, Em added, ‘Pa would be devastated if you left him, you know.'

The unfairness of this remark made Joss catch her breath. What about me? she screamed, inwardly. I might live to be ninety. Is it fair to me to be denied real love, real passion, and be asked to spend the rest of my days with someone who very rarely reads a word I write and doesn't understand it when he does? Why am I the one who has to make sacrifices? God, if I had any gumption at all, I'd just tell them, ‘I'm leaving and the rest of you can get stuffed.' I wish I were that kind of person. I'm not. I can't. I can't do it to Zannah now and I don't even know whether I can do it after the wedding. ‘Don't worry about it, either of you. I'll make sure your father's not hurt.'

‘Ma?' Zannah took her hand across the table. ‘You don't think we're bullying you, do you? I don't want you to be hurt. Nor Pa. Nor Isis.'

‘Isis? What's she got to do with this?' Too much, Joss thought. Much too much, to use darling Isis in this argument.

‘She loves visiting you both. Your house. She loves Grandma and Grandpa as a kind of unit. You're the solid people, the unchanging people in her life.'

‘Well, I'm delighted she's happy with us, but you didn't stop to think of the effect you'd have on her when you left Cal. You simply did what you needed to do.'

Zannah's eyes filled with tears. ‘That's not fair, Ma. She was much, much younger. And it's not the same. You've said that this is all on his side and you haven't slept with him. You're not committed. Nothing's happened. It's easier for you to … well, to step away.'

Nothing to say to that, Joss thought. All she wanted now was to talk to Gray. It would have to be on the phone. She made rapid calculations. She didn't have to
leave at any particular time tomorrow. Would he be able to come up to London at such short notice? Probably not, but at least they could discuss things on a landline. She could phone him from Euston. Her mind was racing. ‘I think I'm off to bed, girls,' she said, standing up. ‘Don't worry about this, please. And remember, not a word to anyone. D'you promise? Both of you?'

Zannah and Emily both nodded. Joss walked round the table to kiss them goodnight. She went slowly up the stairs, trying to seem collected and composed but inside every bit of her was frantic to get to her mobile and text Gray about tomorrow.

‘Tell me again,' Gray said. They were walking in Green Park. Lydia was wrapped up in scarf, gloves and hat, and all he could see of her was her face. When she'd texted last night, he'd just sent her a message proposing a meeting in London today. As soon as he'd learned when she and Bob were coming back from Paris, he'd arranged to take a day off from the hospital. All the time the two of them had been in France, he hadn't been able to stop himself imagining what they were doing and the one thing that had kept him going was the possibility that maybe, if he was lucky, she'd manage to ditch Bob on the way home, get him on to an earlier train or something, which would allow her to spend a couple of hours with him. They'd go to a hotel room. What they'd do there played over and over in his mind like a movie on a repeating loop: clear in every detail. Thinking about this had kept him more or less on an even keel while she was in Paris.

Then, last night, she'd texted him. He thought it was in answer to his own text but it was obvious she'd not seen that when she sent hers. She would have discovered his message as she began to write her own.
Can you meet me tomorrow? It's terribly urgent
. He'd texted back to say yes, he had the day off, and would meet her at Victoria station at half past nine.

He started to run towards her as soon as he spotted
her at the barrier. For minutes, they clung together without speaking, and he felt her pressing herself against him, burying herself in his coat. He'd turned her face up to his, wanting to kiss her, wanting to breathe her in … How long had it been since they were together? Weeks. But he stepped back when he saw tears pouring down her cheeks and said, ‘Lydia? What is it? What's happened?'

‘They know. Zannah and Em. About us. They know … '

‘Don't say a word. Not till we're sitting down. Let's go and find a place.'

‘No, not a café. I couldn't … I want to be outside.'

‘But it's freezing … '

‘I don't care. I don't want anyone – anyone at all – to see us. Or hear what we say.'

‘I'm not going to say anything. Except it's great to see you.'

They had come to Green Park because it was the nearest open space. The branches of the trees made a lacy, black pattern against a sky that was almost white. Their footsteps made a crunching noise on the path. The park was deserted.

‘Tell me,' he said at last, when they'd been walking for some minutes.

‘Zannah and Emily saw us in the restaurant. Zannah caught you looking at me. Emily noticed me squeezing your hand when we … when we said goodbye. They asked me if we were having … having a relationship.'

‘What did you say?'

Lydia didn't answer. Gray prompted her. ‘Tell me what you said.'

She came to a standstill in the middle of the path and turned to face him. ‘I told them you loved me. And I said that of course we hadn't slept together.'

‘Did you say you loved me?'

Lydia shook her head.

‘You didn't tell them?'

‘I couldn't.'

Because she was obviously distraught, because he felt as though his heart was breaking (and part of him, the detached part, was thinking, it really does feel like that. A pain. Sharp. Localized. There, in the centre of my chest) he said nothing, but a mixture of fury and dread filled him. He said, ‘Why not? I know we said we'd wait till after the wedding, but if they know already, then maybe it's best to bring everything out in the open now. The wedding's months away still.'

‘But we can't. You must see that. Think of the embarrassment. It's impossible, Gray. I couldn't. And besides, I promised them both … '

‘What? What did you promise them?'

‘That … that I wouldn't see you again. Except, of course, for family things … the wedding and so forth.'

A bench. There's a bench, Gray thought, and stumbled towards it. He sat down, feeling as though some heavy blow had felled him. Lydia came to sit beside him and murmured, ‘I'm sorry,' under her breath.

‘Fuck being sorry. That's not good enough, Lydia. You promised me something, too. Or don't you remember? Maybe Paris with your husband was so idyllic that you want to put everything we … everything … behind you. D'you want out, Lydia? Is that it? Is it? Tell me now, if you do.'

Lydia burst into tears again. Gray waited till the first paroxysm was over, deliberately not putting his arms round her, keeping his distance. Rage surged within him like a liquid that he could feel burning his throat, his face, every bit of him. He wanted to smash something, hit out blindly, but stopped himself. He sighed and said, ‘I'm sorry, Lydia. I don't know what you want. What you want to do. About us. About me.'

‘I think … ' she said, ‘that we should … I didn't promise not to email you or write to you. I just said I wouldn't see you. That's all.'

‘That's all? Are you mad? That's … it's ridiculous. How could you promise such a thing?'

‘I thought … I mean, it's only five months till the wedding and I thought … ' Her voice faded away to such a soft whisper that he could hardly hear her.

‘What did you think?'

‘I thought we could wait. That's all. I thought we'd get through it.'

For a few moments, Gray sat in silence. Then he said, ‘And during those few months till the wedding, you would, naturally, not sleep with Bob?'

‘I can't say that, Gray. You know I can't. You and Maureen … '

‘Maureen and I have nothing to do with this!' He was furious now, shouting at her. ‘If you asked me, if you said so, I'd not even go back there tonight. I'd leave my wife, my job, everything. D'you get it? Every single thing. For you, now this minute. Just ask me to and I will. But you … you're happy with not seeing me at all. Not for months.'