Not Quite Perfect (22 page)

Emma drags herself up the road, grateful for the end of the day and hoping that Martin won’t be home yet. All she wants is a hot bath, her bed and to avoid any incriminating conversations with her fiancé. She needs time to think properly and Martin’s cheery, reasonable presence won’t help her with this. She had contemplated going round to see Rachel but she didn’t feel ready to confess her sins yet. After all, there was nothing really to confess and she knew Rachel had a tendency to get a bit high and mighty sometimes. Plus her sister was fond of Martin. Emma feared that she might force her to confess all to him before she had worked it out properly in her own mind.

She rounds the corner and feels her heart sink as she sees the light filtering out from the hall. There’s a car she doesn’t recognise parked outside. She turns her key in the door and calls, ‘Hello?’

‘In here,’ says Martin, his voice sounding gruff and angry.

As she enters the kitchen, she is horrified to find Richard sitting at her kitchen table and Martin standing by the sink, his face set in a disgusted scowl.

‘Richard, what are you doing here?’ asks Emma.

‘I’m sorry, Emma, I had to come. I felt it was for the best,’ he says rising to kiss her. She pushes him away.

‘What was for the best?’

‘I’ve told him about us,’ he says.

‘What do you mean “us”? There is no “us”!’ says Emma.

‘How can you say that? You know I have feelings for you. I thought you felt the same. What about last night?’

‘Yes, Emma, what about last night?’ asks Martin angrily.

‘Nothing happened last night! It was just a kiss!’

‘Just a kiss?’ chorus the men, Richard sounding hurt and Martin mocking.

Emma sinks into a chair and longs for a fairy godmother to magic these two men away. She is too tired to sort this out now. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says quietly. ‘I don’t know what to say. But Richard, you said you would give me time to think about everything. Why have you come here?’

‘I’m sorry,’ says Richard, taking Emma’s hands. ‘I just couldn’t wait. I know how I feel about you and I sense that you feel the same. I thought it would be better for everyone if we told Martin as soon as possible.’

‘Very decent of you,’ says Martin bitterly.

Emma looks at Martin and realises she owes him an explanation. ‘Richard, I think you should go,’ she says quietly.

‘But darling –’

‘Please. I need to talk to Martin.’

‘All right,’ says Richard with a sigh. ‘But promise you’ll call me.’

‘OK.’

Emma follows him down the hall. On the doorstep, he stoops to kisses her on the mouth. ‘I mean everything I’ve said, Emma.’ He gives her a final wave before he drives off. She turns to see Martin staring at her, before he thumps up the stairs.

‘Martin! Wait! We need to talk,’ says Emma following after him. Once in the bedroom, he grabs a rucksack from the cupboard and starts to fling clothes into its gaping mouth. ‘What are you doing?’

‘What does it look like I’m doing, Emma?’

‘Please stop.’

‘Why should I? So you can tell me more lies about where you’ve been over the past few months? I mean how long has it all been going on?’

‘Martin, please. You have to listen. I haven’t slept with him!’

Martin stops ramming clothes into the bag and looks at her. ‘But you did kiss him?’

‘Yes, but –’

‘What? If you’re going to tell me it meant nothing, then don’t. I think I’m worth a bit more than that, don’t you?’

‘Of course, of course you are and I can understand why you’re angry but please, Martin, can we at least talk about this?’

‘What is there to talk about, Emma? Is there really any point? At least that tosser was upfront about it, but you’ve been lying all along, haven’t you? All the time we were making plans and you were giving me such a hard time about the wedding. Everything’s been a lie and God knows how long it would have carried on if he hadn’t decided to pay me a visit.’

‘I’m sorry. I just felt so –’ says Emma, struggling for the right word. She is suddenly hit by the enormity of what is happening and the uncontrollable feeling that she can’t stop it. Her legs give way and she sinks onto the edge of the bed.

‘Well Emma, how did you feel?’ demands Martin with rising impatience. ‘Too loved? Too worshipped? Too adored? Because all I’ve ever done is love you and if that’s not good enough, what hope do we have?’ Martin crouches in front of her, holding her by the shoulders. ‘We could have been so, so happy, Emma. Maybe I haven’t got the flash words or wit of Richard bloody Bennett and I like football and I could buy you flowers more, but I love you more than any man ever does or will and that’s the truth.’ He goes back to his packing.

‘Then don’t go, please,’ says Emma, the tears welling in her eyes. ‘Just give me a bit of time to sort myself out,’ she pleads.

She can see tears forming in his eyes too as he zips up his bag. ‘I don’t think so, Emma. I’ve got to protect myself too, you know?’ He darts down the stairs and Emma hears the front door slam behind him. She runs to the window and watches him drive off. She stands there for a while looking at the pool of streetlight where his car was. Then she crumples to the floor and cries heavy, silent sobs.

‘We’re going on a –’

‘BEAR HUNT!’

‘We’re going to catch a –’

‘BIG ONE!’

‘What a –’

‘DADDY!’ shout the three children using their small-person, radar-ears as Steve turns his key in the door.

‘Hello-o!’ says Steve, galloping up the stairs two at a time, before he is leapt on by the children. He manages to stagger to his feet ‘What a lovely welcome! How are you lot?’

The children all talk at once, telling Steve snippets of their day. Rachel notices that Steve hasn’t kissed her yet, but tells herself he’s just pleased to see the children.

‘Now, who wants Daddy to finish the story?’

‘Meeeeeee!’

‘Yes please, Dad. Mum is rubbish at reading this one,’ says Lily plainly. She leans in to whisper to him. ‘She doesn’t know how to do the bear bit properly.’

‘Oh I see,’ whispers Steve, not looking at his wife. Rachel busies herself by putting away the twins’ clothes. ‘Well, I do a very good bear so you better watch out!’ he adds, tickling them. They squeal in shared delight.

Rachel kisses each child goodnight and heads for the door.

‘I’ll see you downstairs,’ she says. Steve looks at her for the first time since he arrived home and she feels unnerved by his gaze. He looks almost disappointed that she’s there. She feels sick as she plods back down the stairs. Is he about to tell her the thing she dreads most in the world? Is he going to leave her for this Sam woman? She heads straight for the fridge and picks out a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and is already on her second glass when he appears half an hour later. He pauses in the doorway to look at her but she doesn’t return his gaze.

‘So,’ he says, his voice sounding cold. ‘What’s been going on?’

‘You tell me,’ says Rachel, immediately on the offensive.

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning where exactly were you last night?’

‘I told you. I missed the train and stayed at Sam’s’

‘Ha! This will be the Sam who you go for coffee with and the Sam who sends you texts at the weekend and the Sam who answered your phone last night.’

Steve looks confused. ‘Yes. That Sam. Why?’

‘Why didn’t you tell me that Sam was a woman?’

Steve laughs mockingly. ‘Why should I?’

Rachel is furious now, lost in her anger. ‘You let me think that Sam was a man.’

Steve laughs again. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘You did! I remember. When you got that text from her about the football, I made a comment about men being saddos and you didn’t contradict me.’

‘Oh for God’s sake, Rachel.’

‘And you lied about working late. I know you did.’

‘OK, OK, but only because I knew you’d overreact. As you are doing now.’

‘So you did lie.’

It’s Steve’s turn to be angry now. ‘No, I didn’t tell you Sam was a woman because I didn’t want to give you another reason to go off at the deep end. I also didn’t think you needed to know because I thought you trusted me. I have been for a few beers with Sam because she’s easy company and to be honest, I’ve missed having someone rational to talk to.’

‘How dare you!’ cries Rachel. ‘So as soon as things get tricky with your wife, you go rushing into the arms of another woman!’

Steve shakes his head disbelieving. ‘I haven’t rushed into her arms. You are being ridiculous!’

‘Are you having an affair?

Steve turns away. ‘I can’t do this.’

‘Can’t do what?’

‘Listen to your paranoid ramblings again but to answer your question, I am not having an affair with Sam, who, by the way, is gay. What about you? Are you having an affair?’

Rachel feels as if the ground is moving away from her somehow. ‘What do you mean?’ Steve walks to the counter and picks up his phone. He presses some buttons and then holds it up for her to hear.

Rachel, we can’t do this.’

Rachel suddenly feels sick as she hears Tom’s voice coming through slightly muffled on the speakerphone. Steve is watching her, his face furrowed with anger.

‘Shhh, we can, come here’

‘No, we can’t Rachel.’

‘Why? Don’t you find me attractive?’

‘Rachel, there is nothing I’d like more than to make love to you.’

Rachel can’t listen any more. She can’t look at Steve and she doesn’t know what to say to him. Everything is a blur as she runs from the kitchen, grabs her bag and dashes out of the door. She sits in the car for a moment, sobbing and secretly hoping that Steve will appear at the door. When it remains stubbornly shut, she starts up the engine and drives off with a loud rev, causing an elderly dog-walker to stop and shake his head in her wake.

‘If you’re selling something, we don’t want it,’ says Diana flinging open the door and then looking perplexed and a little irritated to find her youngest daughter standing in the porch wailing like a banshee. Terrified of public displays of affection, she calls for her husband.

‘Edward! It’s Emma. She’s rather upset.’

Edward comes bustling out of the living room, an open
Telegraph
still in his hand. As soon as he sees Emma, he throws the newspaper to one side and hurries along the hall, his arms outstretched.

‘Darling girl! Whatever is the matter?’

Emma is inconsolable and tries to speak but starts to cry every time she gets a word out. Edward takes her hands. ‘Is it Martin? Is everything all right?’ Emma nods to reassure him. ‘Come in, sit down and we’ll get you a drink.’

‘I’ll do it. Gin and tonic, Emma?’ says Diana. Emma nods again, incapable of any verbal communication. She allows herself to be led into the living room, which is filled with the squashy sofas and pouffes Emma loved as a child. The walls are adorned with generations of photographs, and are testament to parental pride as every certificate the girls have ever won is also displayed. Emma sits down and accepts the very strong gin and tonic with gratitude. She sips it and pulls a face and then takes a large gulp as if the gin will force her to get her story out.

‘So, what’s happened, my love?’ asks her father.

Emma sniffs and takes a deep breath. ‘I think Martin has left me,’ she says with a loud sob.

‘I knew it! I knew it! Didn’t I say? I said there was something wrong. Oh goodness, we’ll have to cancel the wedding!’ says Diana.

Emma almost laughs. ‘Thanks for the support, Mum!’

‘Well sorry, but it has to be said.’

‘All right, Diana, let’s let Emma get her story out shall we?’

Diana harrumphs loudly but even she can see that her husband is right. She sits back in her chair and folds her arms.

Emma addresses her story to her father trying to avoid catching her mother’s disapproving eye. ‘Well, there’s this author at work.’

‘Oh my goodness – another man. Emma! How could you?’ cries Diana.

‘Mum, will you please let me finish?’

‘Sorry, but really!’ Just at that moment, the doorbell rings again. Edward and Emma look at Diana who looks around her and then throws up her hands in despair. ‘Right, I’ll go, shall I? Edward was never very good with axe murderers, so I suppose I better face them!’ says Diana.

‘I don’t think axe murderers ring the bell first but your mother does like a bit of drama,’ whispers Edward. Emma laughs through her tears and they both listen for voices.

Diana is back in a moment followed by a red-eyed Rachel. ‘Well, I like the way you two plan your crises for the same evening,’ comments Diana. ‘I suppose you’d like a gin and tonic too, would you Rachel?’

‘Yes please, Mum,’ says Rachel, sniffing loudly.

‘And don’t sniff, Rachel. There are some tissues on the coffee table if you need one.’

‘Yes, Mum. Sorry, Mum,’ says Rachel, like a five-year-old.

‘Oh dear, what’s happened? Are you all right, Rachel?’ asks Edward. ‘Come and sit here with your sister and me. I haven’t had to do this for a while!’

Rachel takes her place next to her father on the sofa and grabs a tissue. ‘Hello, Em. Are you OK?’

‘Not really. You?’

‘The same.’

Diana returns with a drink for Rachel and stands awkwardly not really sure whether to stay or go.

‘Diana?’

‘Yes darling?’

‘You can sit down if you like.’

‘Oh, all right. It’s just that you all look so cosy. I wasn’t sure if you needed me.’

‘Of course we do, don’t we girls?’ Emma and Rachel mutter an unconvincing agreement.

Diana perches on the side of the chair. ‘So, Martin has left Emma and what’s happened to you, Rachel?’ asks Diana with the subtlety of a rampant wasp.

‘You’re kidding,’ says Rachel turning to face her sister and suddenly forgetting her own woes.

‘He hasn’t left me. We’ve just had words,’ says Emma with a defensive tone to her voice.

‘There’s another man involved,’ says Diana in hushed tones as if Emma is no longer in the room.

‘There isn’t, I mean there is but we’re not involved. We just kissed,’ says Emma.

Diana tuts. ‘Well, no wonder he’s left you.’