The Dead Wife's Handbook (30 page)

I can’t remember when I last heard something that sounded less stupid.

‘It doesn’t sound stupid at all. In fact, it might be one of the wisest things I’ve ever heard. Do you know, I’ve never really sat down and thought about why I chose teaching over every other profession on offer, but what you said makes total sense. Maybe that’s what all jobs are, in one way or another; some attempt to leave an imprint on the world, however small.’

‘I think that’s right. And I suppose, for me, in the absence of having children of my own, teaching’s become my personal immortality project. Although I’ve yet to see quite how effective it might be.’

Eve laughs and Max does too and in their laughter is the catharsis of collective confessions.

‘So now we’ve shared our darkest secrets, you know there’s no way out? You’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future whether you like it or not.’

‘Really, Max? Are you sure? I don’t think this is a decision you should rush. I want you to sleep on it and mull it over and we can talk in a few days.’

Max shakes his head, smiling with confident reassurance.

‘I don’t need a few days. It’s simple. I love you and I want us to make a go of this.’

‘You love me in spite of everything I’ve told you?’

‘I love you in spite of and because of everything you’ve told me. I’ll make a deal with you, Eve: if you have the courage to jump into this relationship with me, I promise always to be honest with you and never to spring any nasty emotional surprises on you. Deal?’

Eve smiles and pulls Max’s face towards her.

‘Given that I love you too, Max Myerson, I don’t see how I could possibly refuse.’

They both laugh and then they’re kissing and I know that my time here, today, needs to come to an end.

I close my eyes firmly and count to a hundred and when I finally open them again, Max and Eve have disappeared, replaced by the empty white world that once was a cause for fear and loneliness but which is increasingly a source of solitary comfort.

I think about the declarations they’ve made to one another today and I’m reminded of the time Max first said those three decisive words to me, on that long, deserted beach in Norfolk, the wind blowing a near gale, his declaration being swept out to sea so that I wasn’t sure whether I’d heard him correctly. The words I had to ask him to repeat and when he did I reciprocated, surprised by my own certainty there and then that I’d never need
any other man to say them to me again. The words that I’ve spent over a decade believing would only ever be spoken romantically by Max to me. Words for which I’d give anything to hear Max or Ellie say to me one last time.

I think about Ellie, my own perfect little immortality project, and about the fact that all I want, all I’ll hope for from here on in, is that she’s as happy and safe and loved as she deserves to be. Because as imprints on the world go, she’s about as good as it gets.

DEPRESSION

Chapter 21

I hear the hubbub of overexcited children before I see anything, and as the chatter becomes gradually louder and the clouds dissipate I see that I’m here, I’m exactly where I want to be, for the first time since I died.

Ellie is wearing a calf-length, short-sleeved lilac dress, the delicate netting of its full skirt covered with sequins, the sweetheart neckline perfectly framing her cherubic face. Her hair is bouncing effusively below her shoulders, just a small strand either side clipped to her head with purple, fairy-shaped grips, giving her the appearance of a woodland nymph. She looks beautiful. I’d say that even if she weren’t my daughter. The party appears to be in full swing, a game of musical statues currently entertaining Ellie and a dozen of her friends, with Connor in charge of iPod proceedings.

I take stock of my old sitting room to see who else is here. In the far corner, by the kitchen door, are Harriet and my mum, whispering collusively like naughty school-girls, failing – if, indeed, they’re even trying – to conceal the evident topic of their conversation, given that every few seconds one or other of them looks over to the opposite end of the sitting room, where Eve is standing chatting to Joan and Ralph. I’m grateful for their loyalty, but I don’t want anything to sour Ellie’s day.

Eve, of course, looks stunning. She’s wearing a floral-print bias-cut silk dress, the kind of dress I might have seen hanging up in a shop window and, in a moment’s self-delusion, taken to the changing room to try on under a spell of naive optimism, until I’d look in the mirror and remember, again, for the umpteenth time, that curvy hips and bias-cut dresses were never going to be the best of sartorial friends. She’s accessorized with nude kitten heels and a simple diamond solitaire necklace, the soft waves of her hair flowing serenely across her shoulders. To be fair, if I was in Mum or Harriet’s position, I’d probably find it hard not to skulk in a corner and gossip about her too.

There are other people I know here too, a couple of other parents from school and a few friends of mine and Max’s from way back, most of whom have children of their own now, all of whom are used to the weekend birthday party drill. Max is standing just behind Eve, talking to one of his old university friends and her husband, and I see him interrupt Eve’s conversation with his parents to introduce her to Rebecca and Mark. I’m unable to resist a pang of envy, knowing that this is their first public outing together, their first joint hosting, clearly Eve’s first encounter with many of the people who populate Max’s life. The people who used to populate my life too.

I know I should be grateful just for being here. It’s what I’ve wanted more than anything else during the past few weeks, after all. But I can’t deny it’s hard, watching Eve and Max in the midst of the social and familial group that less than two years ago was mine and his, not his and hers.

Ellie and her friends have moved on to Pass the Parcel now, the children sitting in a watchful circle bound
by hope. With Mum and Harriet still chatting surreptitiously in the corner, I decide to eavesdrop on them first.

‘I was as surprised as you were to find her here, Celia. I knew things had got serious but … Ellie’s birthday party?’

‘Well, it’s nice to know I wasn’t the only one to have been kept in the dark about her coming today. It was rather a shock when I arrived, I have to admit.’

‘How long have you known about her?’

‘Clearly not as long as everyone else. He told me on the telephone a couple of weeks ago. But I’d guessed something must be going on from a few things Ellie’s said.’

Mum glances over at her granddaughter just as the music stops and she unwraps the final layer of wrapping paper to discover a set of fluffy pens inside. Trust Connor to ensure that she wins the prize.

‘So what do you make of her? She’s not what I was expecting. She’s looks so … young.’

‘Everyone looks young to me, Harriet. She seemed perfectly friendly in our very brief introduction earlier. I barely got time to form an opinion. It’s just so strange, seeing her here, in Rachel’s house, with Max.’

So this must be the first time either of them have met her. I can’t say I’m impressed by Max’s timing. Doesn’t Ellie have enough to contend with without her birthday party playing host to myriad adult complications too?

‘It feels strange to me so I can’t imagine how odd it must feel for you. What’s Ellie said?’

‘Not much, and I haven’t wanted to push her on it, not least since I’ve only spoken to her on the phone for the past two months. Max cancelled her last visit ostensibly
because it was half term but Ellie let slip it was then that she’d met Eve. At the zoo.’

‘Ouch. That’s rough. I’m sorry, Celia. This must be so hard for you. God, Rach would be furious if she knew how insensitive Max was being.’

Not furious, no. Just sad that Max is being so much less thoughtful than I’ve come to expect him to be.

‘It’s not that I mind him having someone new in his life per se. I do think it’s far too soon, obviously, but Max made his feelings about that quite clear to me before. I just worry about what might happen in the future.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, none of us know quite what this woman’s intentions are. Or how serious they are about each other. And I’m well aware how precarious my position will be if Max has a new partner on the scene permanently.’

‘What, you think they’ll try and freeze you out?’

‘It wouldn’t be entirely surprising, would it? Why on earth would she or Max want his ex-mother-in-law hanging around? I couldn’t bear it, Harriet, if I didn’t get to see Ellie very often. It would break my heart.’

It would break my heart too. In all my anxieties about Eve stealing my life, I hadn’t contemplated the prospect of her excluding Mum from theirs too.

‘I wouldn’t go jumping the gun, Celia. It’s very early days yet.’

‘You wouldn’t guess it from the way Joan’s behaving. You’d think Eve was already a permanent fixture here.’

Mum and Harriet look over to where Eve is laughing with Joan and Ralph, just as Joan takes Eve’s hand in hers
and rewards it with an approving pat. Mum’s right. The adoration on Joan’s face is undeniable.

‘Joan does seem to have taken a bit of a shine to Eve, but who knows how long that will last?’

‘It’s mortifying. She’s behaving as though Rachel never existed. It’s disrespectful as much as anything else.’

Before Harriet has a chance to respond, Ellie bounds over and grabs her hand.

‘Come and judge the dancing competition, Hetty. I want you to judge the girls and I’m going to get Eve to judge the boys. Come on.’

Ellie drags a less-than-thrilled Harriet to the other side of the sitting room where the sofas have been pushed back to create a temporary dance floor. Harriet and Eve stand awkwardly side by side, on opposing sides of so much more than a child’s competition.

Mum is left standing alone in a crowded room. It’s a scenario she hates, I know, although it’s possibly preferable to the alternative winding her way towards Mum now in the shape of Joan.

‘Celia. It’s nice to see you. I wasn’t sure if you’d make it this year.’

I sense Mum’s hackles rise from a whole world away.

‘Of course I’d make it. Why on earth wouldn’t I?’

If Mum’s cemented smile is an attempt to hide her irritation under a veneer of social niceties I fear she hasn’t been altogether successful.

‘Well, you know, what with it being such a long way for you to come. It’s so good of you to make the journey just for a couple of hours.’

‘It’s really not that far, Joan. And I’m hardly likely to miss my own granddaughter’s birthday party, am I?’

‘No, no of course you’re not. I just wish you could have seen Ellie this morning when we were getting everything ready for the party. She was so excited.’

This is, of course, the last thing Joan wishes and all three of us know it.

‘So what did you get Ellie for her birthday? I don’t think I saw her open it.’

‘No, we gave our present to her earlier, before everyone else arrived. We got her some roller skates. Well, they’re more like boots really. It’s what she asked for. She was thrilled with them.’

There’s an expectant pause in the conversation while Mum waits for Joan to return the question. When it doesn’t materialize, Mum’s left with little option but to fill the conversational hiatus.

‘I’m sure they’re very nice. I’m going to save my present for Ellie until later. One last present when she thinks they’re all done for another year. It’s a little surprise, a special trip I’ve got planned for the two of us. I can’t wait to see her face when I tell her.’

Mum smiles and I suspect she’s not even trying to keep the note of triumph from her voice. I wonder if the ‘little surprise’ is the trip to Venice that Mum’s been promising Ellie ever since she was a toddler, ever since she saw footage of it on the television and couldn’t believe there was a real city where people travelled by boat rather than by car.

Joan is spared the necessary ingenuity of an appropriate response by Max, who has lowered the volume on the
music and is standing in the middle of the room with his arm around Ellie’s shoulders.

‘If I can just have everyone’s attention for a minute, please. Now Ellie made me promise that I wouldn’t embarrass her by making one of my – what did you call it? – “silly soppy speeches” so I’ll try not to make it silly but I can’t promise it won’t be soppy. I can barely believe it was eight years ago that I first held this little lady in my arms and brought her home here to this house. I know it’s a cliché but it really does feel like only yesterday. It seems astonishing that such a tiny bundle of a baby has become the lovely, thoughtful, kind young lady standing here now who I can see is getting more embarrassed by the second – sorry, munchkin, I’m nearly done. I’m so very, very proud of you, angel, and I love you very, very much. So, everyone, please raise your glasses and join me in saying “Happy Birthday, Ellie”.’

As everyone toasts my little girl, Max hugs her and I can see she’s trying to conceal the delight on her face as though she’s not sure whether it’s socially acceptable to look as pleased as she does by all the attention she’s getting.