My Husband's Wife

‘You said what?’ I say urgently.

She has the grace to look embarrassed. ‘I said that if it didn’t work out, he could always divorce you when the five years were up. It’s a bit of a joke among us trust wives.’

‘Right.’ I am so stunned I don’t know what else to say.

‘Come on.’ She pats me on the arm. ‘You’ve got to see the bright side.’

‘Are you joking?’

‘Not entirely. Let me put it another way. It means we all stand to inherit quite a bit when the grandfather dies. He’s in a home now, by the way. Dementia, poor man. And don’t blame Ed.’ She says the latter more seriously. ‘He was up against the wall. You should have heard how Artemis was going on about losing all that money if he didn’t get a move on. Mind you, I agree he could have told you.’

If he had, I wouldn’t have accepted his proposal, as he’d have been well aware. The whole thing sounds insane in today’s day and world. But then Ed’s family doesn’t come from my kind of background. I’ve always known that. I just didn’t realize how far apart we were when it came to telling the truth.

Or how close.

‘Of course,’ continues my sister-in-law, ‘it was a bit of a pain when Davina broke off her engagement to the other chap …’

My skin breaks out into goose pimples. ‘When?’

‘Henry! When you were on honeymoon …’

Now, finally, it’s all falling into place.

‘I see,’ I say numbly.

‘What do you see?’

It’s Ed, coming up from behind. Looking every inch like a former public schoolboy in his navy jacket, crisp white shirt and beige chinos. But inside, he’s no better than a criminal. Hasn’t he stolen my life?

‘You married me so you didn’t lose out on your inheritance,’ I hiss. ‘But you really wanted Davina. No wonder you were so upset when we came back from our honeymoon and you found out she’d cancelled her marriage.’

Alarm is written all over his face. For one minute there, I had hoped this ridiculous story was a pack of lies. Yet my husband is disconcertingly quiet, making no attempt to deny the charge. Like all good lawyers, I’ve got to the truth. But there’s no pleasure in it.

‘And now clearly,’ I continue furiously, ‘she wishes she’d waited for you – and you for her.’

He takes my arm. ‘Let’s walk.’

My sister-in-law has gone, along with her toddler. We pick our way along the gravel path by the early snowdrops. Ed’s voice is raw. ‘She shouldn’t have told you.’

‘Yes. She should.’ I shake off his arm. ‘You married me for money. But I could have been anyone who was around, just as long as it was before your birthday.’

He looks away, down towards the lake. ‘It wasn’t like that. No, I didn’t want to lose my inheritance. I knew when it came it would allow me to give up my job and let me paint. Maybe start my own gallery. But at the same time, I was genuinely attracted to you. There was something about your face when you told me your brother was dead and … and how he’d died. I tried to draw it, after that first night, but I couldn’t do it. It was as if your grief was too deep.’

‘You married me out of pity?’

He is pleading now. ‘That’s not what I meant. I married you because you intrigued me and because I could tell you were a good, kind person.’ His face crumples. ‘Look how you insisted on mopping up your wine at that party instead of pretending it wasn’t you who had spilled it. Davina would just have left it. You’re a much better person that her. Honest.’

Honest? I’m tempted, as I’ve been on so many occasions, to tell him everything. The guilt lies like a heavy stone inside me. But if I’m upset about the trust, how would Ed feel if he knew what I had done?

I try to take a step back, but before I can do so, Ed’s hands are cupping my face. ‘You’re a beautiful person, Lily. Inside and out. And the most amazing thing is that you just don’t see it. That was another reason I fell for you. You’re also brave. Loyal. Clever. I know I haven’t been very nice about you working so hard, but actually I’m really proud of you for helping the underdogs in life, like this prisoner of yours.’

You’ve got it all wrong, I want to scream out.

‘So why have you been so horrid to me?’

‘Because … because I was hurt when you clearly didn’t want me. You know. Physically. It made me feel rejected. And then Davina made it clear she was still interested and I was … well, tempted. Nothing happened. I swear it. Then there’s the case. It seems to be all you think about and …’

There’s a dullness in my chest. The number of divorced solicitors in my practice alone bears testament to the fact that law takes its toll on family life.

He runs his hands through his hair. ‘The thing is, Lily, maybe we did get together fast. But I’ve got to know you better now and … well, I want to be with you. I really do.’

Does he? Or is it the money that’s talking? Five years of marriage to get the inheritance.

‘Tell me,’ he says, pulling me towards him, ‘that you love me too?’

Love? What is love? Surely I’m the last person to answer that one.

‘We could try again,’ he says slowly. Gently he tilts my chin so I have to look straight at him. It feels important not to look away. ‘What do you think?’

We’ve said this to each other before. Each time we’ve ended up fighting again. But right now, a pair of brown-black eyes comes into my head. Go away, I want to scream.

‘I don’t know,’ I say miserably to Ed now. ‘I can’t think properly. Not with this case going on.’

It’s true. If anything, seeing my parents this Christmas, revisiting the empty stable, has made me more determined than ever to go ahead with this. To win. To play my part in delivering justice. It’s more important than my own personal life. After Daniel, it has to be.

Then I look down at my husband’s hands, which are now holding mine. And I drop them.

‘I’ll give you an answer when it’s over. Sorry.’





20


Carla


Carla watched Mamma cry all through Christmas Day. She cried when she unwrapped Larry’s present and she cried when her fingers couldn’t put it on.

At first, Carla tried to comfort her. ‘Let me help you with the clasp.’

But then, when Mamma looked in the mirror at the silver locket around her slim brown neck, she cried even more.

Carla gave up. I wonder if the Queen cries, she asked herself as she sat cross-legged in front of the television, watching this really old woman with grey hair and a nice smile talking about ‘the importance of family values’.

Carla wouldn’t have bothered changing channels for the Queen’s speech if it wasn’t for her new friend at school. ‘We always watch it,’ Maria had told Carla when they were tucking into the toffees which one of the gappy-toothed nuns had handed out after the end-of-term carol service.

Sometimes Carla guiltily found herself wishing that she belonged to Maria’s family. But at least, thanks to her friend, she now had a Kitty. She had the right television programme on. Now all she needed was a mother who didn’t have a red, blotchy face from weeping.

If Larry didn’t make Mamma so unhappy, everything would be all right, Carla told herself as she watched pictures of the Queen’s reassuring face.

She was sure something would happen soon. She just had to be patient.

‘Do you think Ed and Lily will be back now?’ she asked Mamma through the sobs.

Her mother shook her head. If Larry saw Mamma now, he wouldn’t think she was very pretty with all those black smudges under her eyes.

‘They are still with their families,’ Mamma said. ‘Just as we should be with ours.’

Carla thought of the sparkly Christmas card of baby Jesus that they had sent to Italy and the much hoped-for card that had not been sent back in return.

Mamma burst out into fresh tears. ‘It is all my fault …’

‘Why, Mamma?’

‘It just is.’ Then her mother’s eye fell on the second package under the tree. ‘Are you not going to open Larry’s present to you? I took it out of the bin, just in case.’

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