The End of Her Page 25

‘He’s at my mother’s,’ she says. ‘He’s staying there tonight.’

She’s going to ask him to leave. He feels light-headed with disbelief. How could he have been so stupid? He’d promised her. And he’d broken his promise. She won’t give him a second chance. She already has, and he’s blown it.

‘Nancy …’ he says, his voice halting. She’s waiting for him to tell her, but he can’t.

‘How could you?’ she hisses. ‘How could you, after last time?’

He comes slowly into the room, as if he’s approaching his own funeral, and sinks heavily into an armchair across from her. ‘I don’t know,’ he says. ‘I’m so sorry. Nancy, I love you. Only you. I’ve only ever loved you.’ He looks back at her, abject and pleading.

‘That’s what you said last time,’ she says angrily.

‘I know. But it’s true.’

‘I went to see her today,’ Nancy says.

He feels sick. He never meant for this to happen. It was meaningless, a bit of excitement. He didn’t mean to hurt her. He doesn’t want to lose everything.

‘She’s very attractive,’ Nancy says bitterly.

Oh God, not this again. ‘Nancy, please. You know how attractive you are. I mean, look at you! It’s not about that.’

‘Oh no?’ She waits a bit and then says, ‘Then why do you do it? Why do you sleep with other women? Why am I not enough for you?’

He almost wishes she would cry and throw things, but she’s so angry, and so cold, he’s certain that she’s already made the decision to kick him out. He can’t explain it. He’d tried, in marriage counselling, but had failed. He wants to explain it now, but he can’t find the words.

‘I’ve had enough, Niall. I think you should leave.’

‘No!’ It comes out as a strangled protest. ‘No, Nancy, please. Please give me another chance.’

‘You can move into that cheap little apartment in Newburgh, with her. I’m sure you’ll both be very happy. Or not. I don’t care.’

He lurches off the armchair and sinks to his knees in front of her. He’s shaking his head. ‘I don’t want her. She’s nothing to me. I want to be here, with you. I love you, Nancy. I want to be here with you and Henry. Please don’t ask me to leave. I’ll never see her again. I swear.’

Then she begins to cry, and he does too. Afterwards they sit in silence for a long time. Darkness falls.

Finally Nancy says, ‘I want you to call her, now, and tell her you’ll never see her again.’

‘Sure, of course,’ he says eagerly. He takes his cell phone out of his pocket and calls Erica. His heart is pounding loudly. He holds the cell phone up to his ear.

Erica answers. ‘Hello.’

‘Erica,’ Niall says. ‘It’s Niall. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to see you any more.’

‘Afraid of your wife, are you?’ her voice is scathing.

‘I love her.’

‘Sure you do.’

He disconnects the call. He can tell his wife has heard it all. He looks at her tentatively. ‘What now?’ Niall asks.

‘I’ll think about it,’ Nancy says. She stands up and adds, ‘You can sleep in the spare room for now – until I decide what to do.’ She exits the room, leaving Niall holding his head in his hands.

Erica wants to throw her cell phone against the wall. She stops herself just in time. She’s just been humiliated. She didn’t see that coming, not until Niall’s wife showed up at her door this afternoon. Of course she knew Niall wouldn’t want to disrupt his family. What she hadn’t expected was for his wife to find out about them, at least not so quickly. How had he let himself get caught? How had he allowed himself to be followed? How stupid can a man be? Did the idiot want to get caught?

Now she can’t get money from him for her silence.

Lately, nothing is going the way she expected. She tells herself that she must have patience. These things take time. But patience has never been her strong suit.


CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN


PATRICK KEEPS PLAYING his last conversation with Erica – late that night in her apartment – over and over again in his mind. Sometimes, these days, his hands shake. Stephanie has noticed. She keeps asking him if he’s all right, if he’s keeping anything from her, if he’s heard any more from Erica. But he hasn’t, and neither has she. He’s not foolish enough to think she’s simply given up and gone away – not any more.

Stephanie is a wreck too. Her face is drawn and she drags herself around the house as if every movement is an effort. He’s seen her start at every unexpected sound, even something as innocent as the mail dropping through the letterbox. She’d told him what Hanna said – that Erica had been looking at the house for sale on their street. It has unnerved her. It has unnerved both of them, which he’s sure was her intention, but they both know she can’t be seriously interested in the house – can she?

They’re both going a little stir-crazy. Patrick realizes that they haven’t been out of the city much at all since the twins were born. Before Stephanie was pregnant, they used to hike the trails on the weekends and cycle regularly. Then, when Stephanie was pregnant, they’d talked about attaching baby seats to their bikes and cycling through the Catskills, as if having babies would be a mere hiccup. They’d had no idea how profoundly their lives would change. The idea of cycling with the twins in infant bicycle seats had been unrealistic. They hadn’t realized what having twins would be like, and they hadn’t expected colic, which has knocked them both sideways. Now all they want to do is sleep when they get the chance.

‘Stephanie,’ Patrick says at breakfast on Saturday morning. ‘Why don’t we pack a picnic and leave the city like we used to? It’s going to be a gorgeous day. We can at least all get some fresh air and a change of scenery.’

She tilts her head at him, considering it. He can tell she’s torn: it sounds lovely, but she’s likely thinking of the work involved – organizing the picnic, making the food – and losing the naptime because the twins will probably sleep in the car on the drive back.

‘I’ll do everything,’ he coaxes. ‘I’ll pop into the deli and get everything ready-made.’ He smiles at her. ‘Potato salad. Those Italian sandwiches you like. That fizzy lemon drink, and some cookies. We’ll drive up to that spot in the mountains we used to go to – where we used to make out.’ He smiles at her, and earns a brief, weary smile in return. ‘We can relax a bit. And you can sleep in the car on the way back.’ Her face lightens a little, and she looks more like herself, he thinks, than at any time since Erica slithered into their lives.

‘That sounds tempting,’ she agrees. ‘Okay. I’ll pack a bag for the twins while you go to the deli.’

‘Great.’ He kisses her on the lips and grabs the car keys, humming as he goes.

Stephanie leans back in the passenger seat, lulled into a sense of ease as they leave the river behind and climb the road into the Catskills. With the deepening forest all around, she feels a familiar peace come over her. The sun is glorious. The twins are babbling happily in the backseat and Patrick, driving beside her, looks over at her and smiles. He reaches out his right hand and places it on top of hers. In a sudden burst of joy, she remembers how happy they are – just before memories of what they’re facing flood back. Light and dark. Can you have one without the other? Looking at Patrick’s profile, the sunlight flooding the car, the cooing of her daughters behind her – she knows what happiness is. With a jagged tug of fear, she also knows that a dark shadow has been cast over their lives. She turns away from Patrick and looks out the window. She watches the landscape pass by, peering into the forest, thinking about all the fairy tales she looks forward to reading to the twins, the ones she loved so much as a child – ‘Little Red Riding Hood’, ‘Hansel and Gretel’, ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs’.

‘Almost there,’ Patrick says, turning off the highway and onto a rutted road to the secluded spot they had discovered a couple of years ago and thought of as their own. They haven’t been here since the twins were born, Stephanie reflects. Patrick pulls up and turns off the car. They’re all alone up here; it’s so quiet she can hear the ticking of the cooling engine. They get out of the car. Patrick comes close to her and they stand together looking down. From here the view is magnificent. Then Stephanie turns away and sets about laying the blankets on the grass while Patrick gets the infant seats out of the car.

Soon they each have a baby on their lap and they’re enjoying their meal, drawing in lungfuls of fresh air. Their problems seem further away here, Stephanie thinks, as she bites into her sandwich and smiles down at Jackie, who is reaching for her hair. They’re far away from everything. If only they could stay here, she thinks fancifully, where Erica could never find them.

‘Do you want to go for a walk in the woods?’ Patrick asks after they’ve eaten. ‘I brought the baby carriers.’