The New Neighbours (59 page)

“So am I,” Angela had said simply, but her eyes shone and Jill felt a stab of envy at her obvious happiness.

“Do you mind if I ask…?” Jill hesitated. “I mean, was it difficult to…? Sorry, it's none of my business.”

Angela looked across at her sympathetically. “Taking Ian back?”

Jill nodded.

“I suppose,” Angela said slowly, “I suppose I always wanted him back. I wanted us to be a family again and the girls to have a real dad, but I knew he really had to want it too. Not just come back because the other woman had gone.” She smiled shyly. “I still loved him, you see, but he had to love me too, more than before. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, it does, of course it does.

Angela wasn't sure quite why Jill had asked the question. Just out of interest, or was there a deeper reason? Had she got the same problem? Or, rather, had Anthony? She had heard, of course, the Circle gossip about Jill and Ben at the student party, but she was sure it had been vastly over-exaggerated. She couldn't imagine someone as attractive and level-headed as Jill, someone with a lovely family and a happy home, allowing herself to get involved with a student. It seemed a ridiculous idea, but Annabel had told her that Ben no longer lived at the Madhouse, and that perhaps bore out some of the story. She looked across at Jill with concern. “Is everything all right with you?”

Jill felt tears pricking her eyes. “Yes, yes it is, thanks.” She smiled brightly. “I see you're moving as well,” she said. “Where are you off to?”

“Well, fingers crossed, to a lovely converted barn in Stone Winton.” Angela began to tell her about the move. “It will do us all good to get away from here,” she said, “especially Annabel.”

“Yes, I can imagine,” Jill said. “I—we—were so sorry to hear about her being mugged… and about the baby.”

Angela sighed. “It was dreadful,” she agreed, “and do you know the worst thing? Some people have actually said, ‘Oh well, perhaps it was for the best'! How can they? How can it be for the best that a girl is attacked and a baby is killed!” Her tone rose as she spoke, fury bringing tears to her eyes. Jill took her hand across the table and wondered who had been crass enough actually to say what, probably, had crossed the minds of many people, herself included. She felt amazingly shabby at having had the thought.

“Sheila…” she began, well aware who had enjoyed spreading the rumours about her.

Angela shook her head. “No, surprisingly enough, it wasn't her, she's been very sympathetic. She came round to see Annabel soon after she came out of the hospital. I didn't think Annabel would want to see her, but she did, and they seemed to get on like a house on fire.” She smiled across at Jill. “Annabel wouldn't say what they talked about, but the visit did her good.”

They had finished their coffee and gone their separate ways. Since then Jill hadn't seen Angela except in the distance, but she'd thought about her a great deal over the next few weeks; of what she'd said about both partners really wanting to make a second go at their marriage work, and she wondered if Anthony would ever forgive her enough to have another try. She wondered if he even loved her any more.

Christmas had arrived without any decisions on their future being taken, and it had been very difficult for both of them. They were still living side by side in the house, but neither of them had been able to restore the easy intimacy of their marriage before Jill's affair with Ben.

In retrospect, Jill knew it had only been a few weeks of complete madness. She had risked all she had simply because she was bored and fed up; the unexpected excitement and the irresistibly strong attraction she had felt for Ben had simply made her throw all caution to the winds. Now it was all over and normality of a sort had reclaimed her, she couldn't believe she'd allowed it to happen. Since the dreadful night of the party at the Madhouse, she had not seen Ben. She heard from other helpful residents of the Circle that he had moved away, but apart from the phone call on the morning after the party, she had heard nothing from him again, and she was relieved. It helped her to block out what she now saw was a sordid, squalid affair, for which she had risked her marriage.

For the sake of the children Jill and Anthony celebrated Christmas in the usual way, and Nancy came to help celebrate with them.

“I'm not sure I should come this year,” she said to Jill. “It might be better if you had a family Christmas on your own.”

“Oh no, Mum.” Jill was horrified. “You must come! I can't cope with us just being ourselves. Isabelle is going home for Christmas and New Year, and Anthony and I will have too much time alone.”

“But time alone is what you need, darling,” Nancy pointed out gently. “You have to rebuild your relationship, and that will take time and effort. I would only be in the way.”

But Jill couldn't face the evenings of strained silences, or the emptiness when Anthony disappeared into his study and left her sitting upstairs alone, and in the end she had applied to him to press the invitation on Nancy. Anthony did so readily enough. He, too, was not looking forward to the long hours of the holiday period that he would have to spend at home. The shock and the hurt he had sustained when he had discovered Jill's affair seemed still as fresh as ever. Only when he was immersed in his work could he forget the pain and feel at all like his old self. As soon as he left the office he began to dread the evening ahead. Jill was doing her best to be normal, to be as she always had been, pleased to see him home, a drink poured and waiting, supper in the oven, but it was that very effort at normality that he found so hard to take. How could she put this dreadful thing that had come between them behind her so easily? How could she act as if nothing had happened, when the whole of his world had been shaken to its foundations? He tortured himself with visions of her in bed with that pony-tailed student, of his hands on her body, doing things to her that made her writhe and cry out with pleasure. Anthony knew it was complete stupidity to torture himself in this way, but he couldn't help it, the visions rose unbidden to his mind. He knew he would be unable to make love to her while these pictures played in his mind, and rather than risk the humiliation of failure, he preferred not to touch her at all. If she touched him, even casually as she brushed past, he felt himself withdraw from her… and so did she.

Much better, he decided, if Nancy were with them over Christmas, making it as normal as possible for the children and allowing him and Jill to maintain a façade by providing one for her.

So Nancy had come. There was only one problem with that; it meant Anthony had to move back into the marital bed, as Nancy had to sleep in Anthony's study, as she always did.

“I suppose she could sleep in Isabelle's room,” Anthony suggested, tentatively.

“No she could not,” Jill had said firmly. “At least, I'm not asking Isabelle to clear all her stuff away before she goes. You can if you like.” Anthony hadn't liked. He simply moved his clothes back up to their shared bedroom the morning before Christmas Eve, leaving the bed already installed in the study free to be made up for Nancy. Since then, even after Nancy had returned to her own home, Jill and Anthony had slept side by side, each conscious of the other, but neither crossing the divide… one because he could not and the other because she dare not. Christmas Day had relentlessly occurred. There was the early start when the children found their stockings waiting on the ends of their beds, the presents round the tree, Christmas lunch and tea. Games to play and stories to read, and the final tears before bed at the end of an exciting day.

As she watched them each going through his own private hell, Nancy longed to knock their heads together and make them see sense. It was while Anthony had taken the children to the park on Boxing Day that she had the chance to tackle Jill about it.

“I don't understand you,” she said as they sat together with a cup of coffee. “Haven't you discussed anything… said anything?”

Jill shook her head. “I can't, Mum. It has to come from him. He has to want me here. He has to make the first move.”

“Why?” Nancy wasn't being obstructive, she genuinely wanted to know. “Why can't you say something?”

“Because, if he can't forgive me… if he doesn't love me enough to forgive me, it's never going to work. He says he needs time to decide, so that's what I'm trying to give him, that's all.”

“But you still love him?”

“Yes,” Jill said. “I really do, and as it's all my fault I've got to be the one who waits. If I push him into a decision, it may be the wrong one. I have to give him the time he needs.”

“Well, I hope he makes some sort of decision soon,” said Nancy, “because all this is tearing you both apart.” She longed to talk to Anthony herself, but she knew that it would probably do more harm than good if she interfered, so she managed to bite her tongue and say nothing. After New Year, she returned home, and still nothing had even begun to be resolved. Jill and Anthony continued to live on the surface of their lives, talking only superficially, but neither had found the courage to take their communication any deeper. Isabelle had come back from France, and life fell back into its routine groove.

Then, last night, as they sat over the supper table Anthony had suddenly said, “Something's come up. After supper we must talk properly.” He looked across at her. “Where's Isabelle, did you say?”

“Babysitting for the Forresters. She won't be back for some time yet.” Jill cleared the table and left the dishes in the sink. Now was not the time to be washing dishes, and anyway she didn't want to spend even ten minutes wondering if Anthony was going to say that he didn't want to go on as they were. She made them coffee and carried it into the sitting room. For a moment or two, she fussed about with cups and a coffee table, and then she sat down in her armchair, setting her own coffee cup on the floor beside her.

Anthony took a mouthful of coffee and then put his cup down too. “I've been offered a job in the London office,” he said without preamble. “I've decided to accept, and I shall have to live in London.”

Jill stared at him. “Does that mean you're leaving me?” she asked in a low voice.

Anthony gave a slight shrug. “That's up to you,” he said.

“What do you mean, ‘up to me'?” demanded Jill.

“Just what I say,” replied Anthony calmly. “I shall go and live in London, if you want to come too, you can.”

“And the children…?”

“Them too, of course, but this isn't about the children,” said Anthony.

“Oh for God's sake, Anthony, of course it is,” cried Jill. “They are our prime concern.”

“What I'm trying to say,” Anthony said patiently, “is, that obviously the children will be with you, wherever you are, whether you come to London or you stay here, and which you do is up to you.”

“Do you want me to come?” asked Jill softly, and then looking at his tired face, she plucked up courage to ask the question that would make her decision for her. “Do you still love me, Anthony?”

“Love you? Of course I still love you,” his voice was full of anguish, “that's the problem, don't you see? I never stopped loving you, but that's why it's so difficult. I loved you all the time you were loving him… all the time I thought you were loving me.”

Jill ached to go to him, to put her arms round him and soothe away his hurt, but she was afraid to, afraid that he would repel her, as the cause of his pain. Tears slid silently down her cheeks, and she could only murmur, “I'm sorry, Anthony, so sorry. I'm so sorry.”

Something inside her told that now was the time she should be fighting for her marriage, but somehow the words wouldn't come.

“Well, that's the situation,” Anthony said. “My new job starts in two weeks. Think about it, and let me know what you've decided.” He got to his feet, his coffee left cooling beside his chair, and walked to the stairs. Jill jumped up too.

“Anthony,” she cried, “we can't possibly leave it like this. Please, let's talk things through, right from the start.” She caught at his hand and he paused, looking back at her.

Now, now was her chance, and she might not get another. She must speak to him, take charge of the conversation. Her grip tightened on his hand as if physically to hold him from going down to his study, and she drew a deep breath.

“Anthony, you may not believe this,” she began quietly, “but I love you more than anyone else in the world.” His face remained impassive, but she could see he was listening. “I made a fool of myself, disgraced myself, and hurt you so badly. I, well, I don't know what to say to you. Sorry is such a useless word, I could say it to the end of time and not really tell you how I feel. You say you love me and you always have, but do you love me enough to forgive me for the torment I put you through?” Her eyes searched his face. “You have to love me enough to forgive me completely, Anthony, or else we've got no future together. It won't be any good going to London together if we simply take our problems with us. I want us to give our marriage another try, Anthony, more than anything, but I know now that it won't work unless we can both put my affair with Ben behind us. It'll be no good going to London and then to live there as we have been here the past few weeks. If we come with you, the children and I, we have to come as a complete family unit, a proper family.” Her gaze held his. “I want to be with you Anthony, as we always were. I want to share your life, and your love and your bed, but I can't do it if you can't forgive me. I'm willing to beg for that forgiveness, but if you can't give it we have no future together.”

Anthony moved towards her, he did not release his hand from hers but neither did he take the other, nor draw her into his arms. He looked down at her, and she could see there were tears in his eyes too.