The Husband's Secret Page 52
‘It was all such a long time ago,’ she said. Her heart rate had picked up. ‘I can hardly remember so much.’
I can hardly remember so much. It didn’t even make sense.
‘Really?’ said Connor. He squatted down and placed one of the balls on the red segment of the parachute. As he straightened, he shot her a look. ‘I actually remember quite a lot.’
What did he mean? That he remembered a lot about their relationship, or just that he remembered a lot about the nineties?
‘I’d better go,’ she said. She met his eyes and looked away fast, as if she’d done something wildly inappropriate. ‘Get out of your way.’
‘All right.’ Connor bounced the basketball back and forth between his palms. ‘Still up for that coffee some time?’
‘Sure,’ said Tess. She smiled in his general direction. ‘Have fun – parachuting, or whatever it is you’re doing.’
‘Will do. And I promise I’ll keep an eye on Liam.’
She started to walk off, and as she did, she remembered how much Felicity liked watching the football with Will. It was something they had in common. A shared interest. Tess would sit and read her book while they shouted together at the TV. She turned around. ‘Let’s make it a drink,’ she said, and this time she did meet his eyes. It felt like physical contact. ‘I mean, instead of a coffee.’
Connor shifted one of the balls on the parachute with the side of his foot. ‘How about tonight?’
Chapter twenty-six
Cecilia sat weeping on the floor of her pantry, her arms wrapped around her knees. She reached up for the roll of paper towels on the bottom shelf, ripped one off and blew her nose furiously.
She couldn’t remember why she’d come into the pantry in the first place. Maybe she’d come in for no other reason than to calm her mind by looking at her Tupperware containers. The pleasing, purposeful geometry of their interlocking shapes. Their blue airtight lids keeping everything fresh and crisp. There were no rotting secrets in Cecilia’s pantry.
She could smell a hint of sesame oil. She was always so careful to wipe the bottle of sesame oil, but still that faint scent lingered. Maybe she should throw it out, but John-Paul loved her sesame chicken.
Who cared what John-Paul loved? The marital scales would never be even again. She had the upper hand and the last word forever.
The doorbell rang and Cecilia gasped. The police, she thought.
But there was no reason for the police to turn up now, after all these years, just because Cecilia knew. I hate you for this, John-Paul Fitzpatrick, she thought as she got to her feet. Her neck ached. She took the bottle of sesame oil and tossed it into the bin on her way to the front door.
It wasn’t the police. It was John-Paul’s mother. Cecilia blinked, disoriented.
‘Were you in the bathroom?’ said Virginia. ‘I was just thinking I might have to sit down on the step. My legs were getting all wobbly.’
Virginia’s specialty was making you feel just a little bad about anything she could. She had five sons and five daughters-in-law, and Cecilia was the only daughter-in-law who hadn’t at one time been reduced to tears of rage and frustration by Virginia. It was due to Cecilia’s unshakable confidence in her abilities as a wife, mother and housewife. Bring it on, Virginia, she sometimes thought to herself as Virginia’s gaze swept over everything from John-Paul’s crease-free shirts to Cecilia’s dust-free skirting boards.
Virginia ‘dropped by’ Cecilia’s every Wednesday after her tai chi class for a cup of tea and something freshly baked. ‘How do you stand it?’ Cecilia’s sisters-in-law moaned, but Cecilia didn’t really mind all that much. It was like taking part in a weekly battle with an unspecified goal that Cecilia felt she generally won.
But not today. She didn’t have the strength for it today.
‘What’s that smell?’ said Virginia as she presented her cheek to be kissed. ‘Is it sesame oil?’
‘Yes,’ Cecilia sniffed her hands. ‘Come and sit down. I’ll put the kettle on.’
‘I’m really not fond the smell of sesame,’ said Virginia. ‘It’s very Asian, isn’t it?’ She settled herself down at the table and looked about the kitchen for grime or errors of judgement. ‘How was John-Paul last night? He called this morning. That was nice that he rushed back earlier than expected. The girls must be happy. They’re all such Daddy’s girls, your three, aren’t they? But I couldn’t believe it when I heard he had to go straight back into the office this morning after only flying back last night! He must have jet lag. The poor man.’
John-Paul had wanted to stay home today. ‘I don’t want to leave you alone to deal with this,’ he’d said. ‘I won’t go into the office at all. We can talk. We can keep talking.’
Cecilia could think of nothing worse than more talking. She’d insisted that he go in to work, virtually pushing him out the door. She needed to be away from him. She needed to think. He’d been calling all morning, leaving frantic-sounding messages. Was he worried she was going to tell the police what she knew?
‘John-Paul has a good work ethic,’ she told her mother-in-law, as she made tea. Imagine if you knew what your precious son did. Just imagine.
She felt Virginia’s eyes shrewdly assessing her. She was no fool, Virginia. That was the mistake Cecilia’s sisters-in-law made. They underestimated the enemy.
‘You don’t look very well,’ said Virginia. ‘You’re washed out. Probably exhausted are you? You take on far too much. I hear you did a party last night. I was chatting to Marla Evans at tai chi and she said it was a great success. Everyone got tipsy apparently. She mentioned that you drove Rachel Crowley home.’
‘Rachel is very nice,’ said Cecilia. She put Virginia’s tea in front of her, along with a selection of baked treats. (Virginia’s weakness. It helped give Cecilia the edge.) Could she talk about her without feeling nauseous? ‘I actually asked her to Polly’s pirate party next weekend.’
Which is just wonderful.
‘Did you?’ said Virginia. There was a pause. ‘Does John-Paul know that?’
‘Yes,’ said Cecilia. ‘He does actually.’ It was an odd question for Virginia to ask. She knew perfectly well that John-Paul didn’t get involved in the planning of birthday parties. She put the milk back in the fridge and turned around to look at Virginia.