Page 50 of Behind Her Eyes
‘Auntie Sophie!’ Adam tears in from his room and wraps himself around her legs. ‘Ella!’ Ella is a quirky, ethereal child who never seems to repeat a single word of either of her parents’ colourful language – unlike Adam who I try not swear around but who somehow manages to pick up on it anyway. If a six-year-old is capable of being hopelessly in love, then I’m sure that Adam is in love with Ella.
‘I’ve been to France for a month! And I’m going to have a brother or sister! Lisa’s making a baby!’
It’s the first time he’s mentioned the pregnancy in front of me – I wasn’t even sure he knew – but hiswhat-might-upset-Mummycaution has gone in the rush of his excitement.
‘Ian’s having another baby? You didn’t mention that,’ Sophie says. She sounds a bit stung. I shrug.
‘You were too busy lecturing me.’ The mention of the impending baby is still a barb in my side, but I don’t want her to see that. We usher the children off to Adam’s room to play, clutching bags of sweets that Sophie’s brought with her, and we go out to the balcony with wine.
She lights a cigarette and offers me one, but I wave my e-cig at her. ‘I sort of quit,’ I say.
‘Wow, well done. I keep meaning to get me and Jay onto those. Maybe one day. So,’ she looks at me, wine in one hand and cigarette in the other, ‘talk to me. What’s happened? You’ve got thinner. Is that stress or intentional?’
‘Both,’ I say. And then, despite myself, I tell her. I’m bursting with the anxiety of it all, and sharing it seems like such a relief. She lets me talk and talk, barely interjecting, but I know I’ve made a mistake when I see her face darken, and the lines that she tries hard to hide with her fringe furrow deep in her forehead. She’s looking at me as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing.
‘Well, it’s no wonder you lost your job,’ she says, when I finally finish. ‘What did you expect him to do? You’d made friends with his wife and didn’t tell him.’ She’s frustrated with me. ‘Who does that? I told you on the phone you couldn’t keep it up.’
‘I didn’t mean to carry it all on,’ I say. ‘It just happened.’
‘What, like letting him in and fucking him repeatedly once you were friends with herjust happened? Like this crazy breaking into his officejust happened?’
‘Of course that didn’t just happen!’ I snap. She’s speaking to me as if I’m some kind of teenager. With her track record, I expected more understanding.
‘But anyway, all that isn’t the point. I’m worried about her. What if he’s trying to get rid of her? Their marriage is totally weird, and this stuff with the pills and controlling the money …’
‘You don’t know what their marriage is like.’ She cuts me off. ‘You’re not in it. And Jay looks after all our money, and I’m pretty sure he has no dastardly motives.’
‘You’re not worth a fortune,’ I mutter, biting back the urge to remind her that all their moneyisJay’s money because she doesn’t exactly bring the big bucks in. ‘This is different.’
She sucks hard on her cigarette, thoughtful. ‘You’ve been shagging this bloke, and you’ve not shagged anyone in ages, so you must really have liked him. How come you’re on her side in all this? You sure you’re not feeling guilty and somehow trying to redeem yourself?’
She does know me, I’ll give her that. ‘Maybe it’s partly that, but there’s so much evidence, Sophie. And if you met her, you’d think the same. He’s so moody. Properly dark moods. And she’s so nervous of him. She’s so sweet and fragile.’
‘Fragile?’ She arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow. ‘Or crazy?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you’re wanging on about these pills and everything, and seeing it as something sinister that he’s doing to her – but what if shedoeshave a screw loose? Have you thought about that?’
‘These are serious pills.’
She shrugs. ‘It might be a seriously loose screw.’
I shake my head, adamant. ‘If she was crazy I’d know. It would show. We’ve spent a lot of time together.’
‘Yeah, because crazy always shows. Tell that to the people who knew Ted Bundy or just about any other serial killer. All I’m saying is that maybe you’re over-thinking all this. Seeing something that isn’t there.’
‘Maybe,’ I say. I don’t believe that for a second, but there’s no point in talking to her about it any more. I know I can over-think things, but I’m not over-thinking this. I wish she hadn’t come over. Looking at her, I think maybe she’s wishing the same. She’s pitying me a little, I can see that, as if she’s sad that I can’t even get the fun of an affair right.
‘Maybe this is about Ian really,’ she says, cautiously. ‘You know, with the new baby coming. It can’t be easy for you.’
‘You think I’m inventing problems in David and Adele’s marriage because my ex has got his bimbo girlfriend knocked up?’ I snap back at her. More of a growl really.Fuck off, I think with a surge of anger.Fuck off back to your shallow affairs. I’m not giving up on Adele. I’m not.‘You think I made up that file I found? The pills?’ We stare at each other for a long moment, neither speaking.
‘No, of course not,’ she says, eventually. ‘I’m worried about you, that’s all. Anyway’ – she makes some pretence of looking at her watch – ‘I’ve got to go. My mum’s coming around this evening for my sins, and I’ve got to figure out what the fuck to cook.’ There’s still half a bottle of wine sitting at our feet, and I’m pretty sure she’s lying. I don’t know how that makes me feel. Lonely. Friendless. Empty. Angry at her.
‘I love you, Lou,’ she says when Ella’s gathered up and they’re at the front door. ‘But stay out of their business. No good comes from getting in the middle of a marriage. You’ve totally crossed all the lines. You know that. Step away. Leave them to it. Move on.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ I say. ‘I will. I promise.’
