Secrets (39 page)

‘Oh, Tess.’ Joe kissed the tip of her nose, her forehead, and he thought to himself, if I was to describe her to someone, I'd probably say I'm in love with this strong, lovely, daffy girl. He brought himself up higher in the bed, higher than Tess, so that her face was in line with his chest; as if he wanted her to sense that he was very much a man compared to this immature wanker of whom she'd just spoken.

‘I haven't seen him since. For a while, during my pregnancy, I imagined him fronting up, guitar over his shoulder like a strolling troubadour, having found himself on the road to Damascus. Later into my pregnancy, I let go of this image and just hoped for a call or a card or a letter or something. Then I had to let go of that. When I was in labour, I did wonder if magically he'd show up – which was why, stupidly, I'd said, no, Tamsin, I don't need you. In fact, I told her Dick was on his way. But he didn't come, of course, I gave birth to Em alone. Well, that's a lie – there was this lovely midwife from Ghana called Angel. I don't know where Dick was that night. I couldn't get hold of him. I don't know where he is now, either. But I wouldn't try to get hold of him. He does not know when Em's birthday is.’

There was no more hair to tuck behind her ear so Joe just moved what was there already so he could repeat the soothing process.

‘But, Tess,’ he said, ‘I'm not sure why you did him the courtesy of lying – of investing qualities in a bloke who's obviously a total cunt.’

Tess never used the C word and it quite took her aback, not least because she could sense Joe's intense indignation.

‘Why didn't you just tell those close to you what was going on – the truth? They'd've flooded you with support and sympathy. At the very least you'd have had someone's hand to hold during labour.’

Tess looked up at him. ‘Because, Joe, what would that have made me? How little worth would I have to hear out loud? Reality made me feel so bad – and a bit of a lie, a secret, could make me feel a tiny bit better.’

‘And did it?’

‘Not really.’

‘Because you've had to shoulder the truth, the secret
and
all the loneliness yourself.’

Tess didn't respond.

‘I've heard you cry, Tess,’ Joe said gently. ‘I've seen you cry all alone, when Emmeline is asleep. Outside her room, dissolved into a huddle on the floor.’

Tess nodded reluctantly and concentrated on Joe's Adam's apple because she didn't want to cry now. ‘I haven't wanted to wake her – yet there have been times when I've so badly wanted the cuddle.’

‘You know you never have to ask,’ Joe said. ‘I'm telling you now – you never have to ask.’

She swallowed hard on the surges of emotion: relief, sorrow, comfort, love.

‘That's what's been so tough – my secret fight not to let Dick's rejection negate me, deny me what I believe about myself and, most importantly, Em. That the gift of a child could be rejected – well, for me that's the worst thing. You see, I think I'm –’ She struggled and then she shrugged within Joe's arms. ‘I think I'm nice. Nothing special – but
nice
. I think Em and I are a pretty good package. It's tough to figure out why we were discarded. Was it our fault? My fault? Is there something
wrong
with me? It's difficult not to judge yourself by someone else's reaction – even if your sensible side is pleading with you to be reasonable.’

Joe felt very thoughtful. He wanted to soothe her and he wanted now to reveal how much he felt for her. But as phrases filled his head, he thought they sounded too much like a contrived response.

‘You're not nice,’ he said at length. ‘I mean, you
are
– but you're a lot more. So I don't ever want to hear you say that you're nothing special. You're extraordinary. You've turned my life around. And you and Emmeline are the most perfect package ever to arrive on the doorstep of Resolution House.’

Tess stayed very still while she absorbed his words. ‘I suppose if Dick had indeed been the man of my lies – then Em and I would currently be living in some dive with too many joss sticks and too much Jim Morrison.’

Joe laughed. If she could find humour now, in the immediate aftermath of her revelation, then she'd be OK.

‘But what do I tell Em – when she's older?’ Tess's voice was so small.

Joe thought about it. His voice was bold. ‘The truth, Tess. Parents have an absolute duty by their children to always tell the truth.’

Chapter Thirty-five

‘Resolution House. Good afternoon.’

‘Hullo. Is that Miss Adams?’

‘Yes?’

‘I was given your name by Joe Saunders.’

‘Oh. Well, I'm afraid you've missed him – he left yesterday.

He's abroad, now. You can reach him on his mobile.’

‘Er. He just reached me from his mobile. He's in Belgium, right?’

‘Yes?’

‘Well, Miss Adams, he asked me to call you.’

‘Oh?’

‘This is Andy – an old friend of Joe's. He mentioned me to you, I believe. And now he's mentioned you to me – and I believe I can help.’

‘You're the financial bloke – who watched with Joe when the bridge came down?’

‘Er – that'll be me, yes. I'm phoning to make an appointment for you.’

‘Oh.’

‘I'm far less scary than the dentist – I promise.’ ‘Oh.’

‘How about this week – Thursday? Have you any plans – say, after lunch?’

‘Um – no. I think that's fine.’

‘I'm in Stokesley – on the main street, just along from Boyes. Hullo?’

‘The thing is – how do I get to Stokesley from Saltburn?’

‘Oh – I forgot – you're not local. Well, it's an easy drive – it'll take you twenty, twenty-five minutes.’

‘But. Well, my car isn't very –
well
.’

‘I see. I'm not sure about public transport – I'm sure there's a bus, though.’

‘OK – shall I find out then, and give you a call? My friend might know. She
is
local.’

‘OK. No – actually, not OK. I promised Joe I'd look after you. Look, how about I come to Saltburn? It's been ages since I saw the old house.’

‘Did you know it well – when you were a child?’

‘Oh yes. The Doctor's House. Spooky old place, don't you think? Joe was always round ours.’

Spooky? How could anyone find this place spooky?

Tess was bemused.

So the house creaked and groaned a little and the refreshing breeze that some of the door and window frames let in would probably be slicing draughts come the winter, but this house was a place that filled Tess with a sense of security; it felt safe and sturdy and the bricks seemed to breathe benevolence. Perhaps this Andy bloke didn't know Joe as well as Joe thought. Perhaps she should phone Joe and say, are you sure about this guy? But then she thought about the effort Andy was going to, to secure a meeting with her and she felt that actually, this said a lot about his opinion of Joe and the friendship they shared which had spanned decades. And he'd promised Joe he'd look after Tess – which suggested to her that Joe had told him she was worth looking after.

She didn't see Laura when she went to Swallows the following day, which was a shame because she'd mentioned to Lisa having them both round to dinner. But she did see Mrs Tiley again, who told her that, gnarled and time-ravaged her hands might be – but actually, Tess had made them feel so good that she rather thought she would like a bit of polish today. They chose vivid scarlet.

Mrs Corper initially opted for a pink so pale it was all but transparent. Tess though, persuaded her otherwise. ‘If you're going to have varnish, you may as well go the whole hog, Mrs Corper. Polish and be proud.’

‘You'll be waxing my fanny next, dear.’

Tess was so stunned that she didn't notice a glob of nail varnish fall from the brush directly onto her jeans – and her good jeans at that.

‘We listened to a programme on the wireless – didn't we, Hilda. It's all the rage, dear – some leave what they call a landing strip. Some have it trimmed into shapes and dyed – you know, hearts, flags. A sort of topiary. They interviewed one lady – well,
lady
is probably being a little too charitable – anyway, she has her derrière bleached. All the rage, dear, a fad – didn't you know? By the amount you're blushing, it seems that you didn't.’

‘She'll be thinking old dears like us shouldn't say fanny,’ Hilda chuckled to Mrs Corper. ‘She'll be worrying that finding out about the crack-and-sack wax popular amongst the queers will finish us off.’

‘You mustn't call them queers, Hil. You have to call them
the gays.
’

‘Well, that's quite ridiculous – what am I going to use for gay in the normal sense?’

‘Colourful, jolly, I suppose.’

The ladies looked at Tess who was sitting there, mouth agape.

‘We were young once, you must remember,’ said Mrs Corper.

‘Footloose and fancy free,’ Hilda laughed.

‘It wasn't just your feet that were loose, Hil,’ Mrs Corper said with a jauntily raised eyebrow that Tess decided she'd offer to shape a little.

‘Now now,’ said Hilda. ‘You wouldn't want me dragging up mention of Steven Hunter, would you?’ She turned to Tess and whispered rather loudly. ‘She was the talk of the town after
that
little episode with
him
, believe me.’

Tess concentrated on Mrs Corper's nails but she thought to herself how enjoyable it was listening to their banter. ‘You've been friends a long while?’

‘Sixty years, dear.’

‘That's amazing.’

‘Do you have close friends, yourself?’

‘I do indeed. I have Tamsin back down in London. And I have Lisa here.’

‘Nice to count your dearest on one hand, I always say. And what does your husband do?’

‘Oh, I'm not married.’

‘How very modern of you.’

‘Do you call him your
partner
? Or your lover, perhaps?’ Hilda eavesdropped.

‘Or your
beau
,’ said Mrs Corper. ‘I've always liked that one.’

‘Better than boyfriend – that's dreadful.’

‘What does he do, then, the man you're not married to?’ Tess looked up. She looked up and away as if she was thinking about her beau. Actually, she was looking straight at Mary.

‘He builds bridges,’ Tess said, projecting the information boldly into the room. Another resident raised her head. Mrs Corper and Hilda clucked and nodded their approval. Mary, it appeared, didn't hear. But there again, she hadn't registered Tess's presence in the room at all that Tuesday.

In the evening, sitting on her own eating an omelette, Tess could so clearly envisage sharing the highlights of her day with Joe. Making him laugh as she relayed the humour and wit and wisdom of the pensioners. She felt suddenly bemused, and rather sad, that in reality this appeared not to be possible. He'd all but banned her from talking about his mother, hadn't he? There was some mammoth issue, some dark secret, that he didn't seem prepared to share with her. And she thought, he knows everything about me now. And she thought, I wish I could coax more from him. And then she thought, is this an imbalance and if it is, will our bridge not stand steady? Then she thought, I must stop talking in metaphors. But she did think, I wish Joe would tell me more, I wish I knew what happened.

And then she sat in the drawing room with a cup of tea and thought how all she had told Joe had brought so much benefit – to her individually and to them as a couple. What she had considered an unspeakable secret, a necessary lie that she'd have to tolerate like an insidious cramp, had been not just diffused but obliterated by sharing it.

But what if the health of the relationship suffered because a secret was uncovered? Could that happen too? She thought perhaps a fine line could be drawn between privacy and secrecy; the former a right, the latter a risk.

She glanced at the time. She'd give him a call soon, just to say hullo, goodnight. She had to tell herself however batty Joe's mother was now, however undeniably tragic the circumstances of dementia were, it was clear there was murky history with her son and bad blood between them. Tess knew Joe was entitled to his feelings and his privacy however harmless the poor old dear appeared to be to Tess. Whatever acrimony existed between them, she had to admit it had nothing to do with her. Perhaps she was just plain nosy.

When Mary made her way to the Resolution the next afternoon – with Laura trailing her a respectful distance behind, having phoned to forewarm Tess, Tess considered how she just couldn't like Mary less on account of Joe being estranged from her. Something had happened at some point during Joe and Mary's life together – but to Tess she was a senile old lady now, who was compelling because she carried such sadness and introversion around with her; hauling it from Marine Parade uphill all the way home. Turning up at the Resolution with her history heaped upon her, weighing her down, like a caryatid with its stone. Whatever her feelings for Joe, Tess found she was still drawn to the woman. Perhaps she reminded her a little of her grandmother. Perhaps she was a link with Joe when he was gone. She didn't want to write Mary out of her life just because Joe had. But if she didn't, she ran the risk of writing a lot of trouble into her blissful story with Joe.