‘That was it. I said I was leaving, immediately. I got a bag out from under the bed and began packing. She was sobbing and begging me not to go. She said she was going to call Cara and tell her everything. I ignored her and she completely switched tack at that, saying she’d change – she would stop drinking, she’d get better and we’d be a proper family again. I told her I’d heard it all before and, this time, it was too late. I got to the bottom of the stairs with my things when she suddenly ran back up, into our en suite, slamming the door and locking it behind her. She went completely quiet, and I fell for it – I started panicking. It’s got no windows, you see. You can only get in through the door and it’s a heavy, old-fashioned turnkey.
‘I went up, called through to her to come out, and she shouted that she was going to prove it to me. She was stopping drinking here and now. She’d be the person I’d fallen in love with again. She was sure she could do it. She was weeping and weeping; it was dreadful. I felt so guilty—’
I glance at James again, to see that he is starting to stir and rub his eyes. Shit. I look back at Simon, as he continues, unaware.
‘The thing is though, she can’t stop. Literally she can’t. She’s been drinking so long that it’s physically dangerous for her to do it like that. She tried once before and collapsed from a seizure. The only time she genuinely quit for a bit was under medical supervision, as part of a rehab programme, when they prescribed her diazepam. We’d been to see our doctor – he’s a family friend – last week and he’d prescribed her some more, but she hadn’t wanted to start taking it. I told her not to be so stupid, and to come out, or I’d call the police. She told me she had scissors in there and if I phoned anyone she’d hurt herself. OK, I said – fine. You win. I’m not going anywhere. Come out and we’ll talk… She didn’t, until about eleven o’clock. I promised to stay the night and that we’d discuss everything in the morning. I told her to either have a drink, or take some of her meds. She promised she would. We both went to bed.’
I nod, feeling awful that I wish he’d hurry up a bit. Of course he’s in shock, which is why he’s going into such detail, but James is going to wake up any minute, and I don’t want to be rude and have to cut him off completely, mid-flow.
‘She was in the bedroom; I was in the spare room. All yesterday she was very subdued. She said she felt ill and wanted to stay in bed. I tried to get her to eat, but she wouldn’t. I couldn’t leave her like that, so I just stayed downstairs. Then at about seven o’clock, I walked to the M&S garage to get her some chocolate. Partly I needed to get out of the house, and partly I thought it might be something she’d eat, but I forgot my wallet, so I came back and it was completely quiet in the house. I went up and the bathroom door was wide open—’
James starts to look about him in confusion, and seeing me out of the car, shouts: ‘Mummy!’
‘Just coming, darling!’ I call back.
‘You’ve got to go – it’s OK. I understand.’ Simon gestures at James. ‘Anyway, she was on the floor, dead. I called the police – and our GP friend, who came straight over and said it was another seizure brought on from the sudden withdrawal. Her meds were all still in the bathroom cupboard untouched. She’d got bite marks on her tongue apparently, and there was a graze on her head where they think she hit it when she fell.’ He exhales as if he can’t believe it himself. ‘Cara is on her way home. She’s been doing a ski season in Chamonix as a chalet girl. I had to call her and break the news over the phone this morning. As you know, when you’ve had a mother like Louise, you learn to live expecting to get a phone call like this one day, but when it actually happens—’
‘Mummy!’ James shouts again.
‘I’m so sorry, can we just walk down to the car so I can hold James’s hand for a minute while I listen to you?’ I say desperately.
‘Of course. Hang on.’ He reaches behind him and puts the door on the latch as I hasten down to my son.
‘Hello, Mummy. Nice to see you.’ James repeats one of his stock phrases as I appear alongside him, then points at the floor and a copy of a crappy Peppa Pig book. ‘Peppa, please.’
‘What a good polite boy!’ Simon appears behind me, and smiles at him. ‘Hello, James.’
James gives a little wave, grins and then goes all shy at his own boldness, burying half his face in the side of his seat.
Simon turns to me. ‘He’s gorgeous. You must be very proud of him.’
‘Yes, I am.’
Simon’s smile fades, and suddenly his face is bleak. ‘Where did it all go so wrong, Jess? I know I did some things that I shouldn’t have, but there was never anyone else; it wasn’t something I made a habit of. I didn’t intend to fall in love with you and hurt her. I tried my hardest to be a good husband, and a good father. How do I make this OK for Cara, now? She’s still so young!’
I hold James’s small hand and, stroking it with my thumb, take a deep breath. ‘You keep every thought like that to yourself. You tell her how much Louise loved her, and that what happened was an accident. She was trying to detox herself because she wanted you all to be a family together. She never stopped trying, and she was the best mother she knew how to be.’ I choke up and try to smile. ‘Sorry. Forgive me, I’m really not attempting to make this about me, and what happened to my mum. I just feel desperately sad for Cara. I’m also not telling you to say anything that isn’t true. But protect her, Si. Don’t tell her things she doesn’t need to know, or that she has no power to change – things that she now can’t ask Louise about. Does she know about me, or Beth? Any of it?’
He shakes his head.
‘Then keep it that way. Louise obviously didn’t want her to, and that should be respected.’
He closes his eyes briefly. ‘I have ruined so many lives.’
‘No, you haven’t. You’re not that powerful.’
He snorts gently.
We stare at each other for a moment. Suddenly, I feel acutely uncomfortable to have slipped back into talking to him like this so easily. Loss is hanging damply in the air all around us, draping over the bare trees.
‘Mummy!’ James says uncertainly.
‘I have to go,’ I say, and Simon looks awkwardly at his watch. ‘It’s probably a good idea, to be honest,’ he admits. ‘Cara’s flight was at 7 a.m. from Geneva. She’ll be back any minute.’
‘You didn’t go and get her from the airport?’ I can’t help the surprise in my voice.
‘I offered, Jess. Of course I offered. She said no, she’d be OK.’
You should have gone anyway, I think privately, but don’t say it. What would it achieve? ‘We’ll go now. I’ll be wishing you and Cara all strength.’
‘Thank you. And thank you for coming. It means more to me than you’ll ever know.’
I hesitate, and rather wish he hadn’t just said that, I push aside another twinge of unease as I think about how Ed would feel if he knew I was stood here now. But then I came for Cara’s sake. No one else’s. Ed would understand that. I let go of James’s hand, and close the car door. ‘Take care of yourself, Simon. And again, I’m so sorry for your loss. Goodbye.’ I turn swiftly on my heels, pre-empting any awkward handshake, or an attempt at a kiss on the cheek, by deliberately walking around the back of the car.
Simon has already turned away however, and is looking up the far end of road. A taxi has just turned the corner and is coming towards us.
‘Cara!’ he exclaims. ‘Jess, can you go, please. Now!’
Understanding his panic, and without another word, I jump in, and start the engine. Looking in my rear mirror as I quickly pull out onto the street and safely away, I see that Simon has already spun on his heels and is walking smartly up the path into the house. My heart is thumping loudly as we safely reach the end of the road and merge into busier traffic. I don’t risk another backwards glance.
* * *
Ed arrives home an hour later than intended because the trains are delayed. James is already down, and I’m chopping onions when he bursts into the kitchen, red in the face, unwinding his scarf. ‘I’m so sorry!’ he gasps, out of breath. ‘I tried so hard to get back here before you! How long have you been home?’
‘About an hour. I gave James his tea and bath at your mum’s, but I had to come back after that.’
‘An hour? Shit! I’m so sorry, Jess. I’ll work from home tomorrow.’
I shake my head. ‘You don’t need to. Ed, I spoke to the estate agents today.’ I reach across the counter for the glass of red wine I’ve already poured, and pass it to him. ‘Louise Strallen died last night.’