Wife After Wife, page 5
“Oh, I rather fancied being photographed with a tiger!” said Harry.
“Sorry, Mr. Rose, we don’t have many animals that are handleable, I’m afraid.”
“What about an elephant?” said Harry.
“Lelefant!” said Maria.
Sue crouched down. “Hello there. Who’s this?” she said, pointing to Tog.
Maria hid behind Katie’s legs.
“Would you like to meet a real rabbit?” said Sue, and Maria peeped around. She nodded shyly.
“Is that OK?” Sue asked the photographer.
“Could’ve just gone to a pet shop,” he said grumpily.
“I can see if the keepers might let Harry hold a baby chimp that’s being hand-reared?”
“That’s more like it,” said Ken.
After a quick phone call, Sue reported the chimp would be available in half an hour and suggested a visit to the Children’s Zoo in the meantime.
Harry fell into step beside her as they walked. “I suppose you get a lot of twits like me asking to meet a tiger?”
“People forget they’re still wild animals,” Sue replied diplomatically. “Some people are adopting animals now. We sometimes have to explain they can’t actually borrow them.”
“Adopting?”
“You pay toward their upkeep and get your name on a plaque. Paul Young’s got a fruit bat. And Simon Le Bon might be adopting a tiger—a bit of one, anyway. A whole one’s expensive.”
“Pop star one-upmanship! Love it. We could do a feature in Hooray! Can I get someone to ring you?”
“Sure, that’d be great.”
“Who else have you had in?”
“We name our giraffes after British sports personalities.” They were passing the giraffe enclosure. “That baby one’s named after Eddie the Eagle.”
“Iconic sportsman,” said Harry.
Sue grinned. “Too right.”
Katie, pushing Maria in her buggy, had fallen behind and was chatting with Ken and Alex.
“Sorry it’s such a long walk. The Children’s Zoo’s across the other side,” said Sue as they entered the tunnel beneath the Outer Circle.
Harry was about to reply, but his words caught in his throat. It couldn’t be . . .
Like a rabbit caught in headlights, Harry halted abruptly. Then reason intervened and he stopped panicking. Bennie, coming toward him, would just walk on by. What was he worrying about?
Bennie’s eyes widened in surprise. Harry gave a small shake of his head and carried on past her.
“Oh, hello there!”
What the heck? Harry stopped and half turned, looking back.
Bennie was level with Katie.
“It’s Bennie, isn’t it?” said Katie. “From the Dog and Duck?”
Harry took a few steps toward them, praying Bennie would find a way to move on quickly.
“I used to come in when I was at the gallery in Wardour Street. Fancy bumping into you here! I left to have this little one. And I see you’ve got one about the same age!”
Bennie’s eyes briefly settled on Maria, then she bent down to her own buggy and pulled Henry’s beanie further down over his face and tucked his blanket up around his neck. All that was visible of the little chap was his eyes and nose.
Come on, Bennie—finish it!
“Yes, I remember you,” she said, “and that other bloke—Angus? Well, um, nice to see you again. Sorry, but I have to dash. Late already!”
She went to move off, but little Henry, far too warm, whipped off his hat in one swift movement, throwing it on the ground, then pulled the blanket down, revealing Maria’s hair, Maria’s eyes, and Maria’s smile.
Then the toddler caught sight of Harry, whose eyes were flicking between the two children in horror.
“Dadda!” he cried, holding out his arms with an enormous grin.
Time stood still. Katie paled and Bennie froze, staring at her son.
Harry had no idea what to do next.
Then it was as if someone pressed Play and Bennie whirred back to life. “Hahaha, silly Henry. That’s not Daddy. Sorry, um . . .”
“Harry. Actually, I think I remember you from the pub too.”
“Do you? Well, sorry, Harry, he’s going through this phase where he calls every bloke about your age Dadda. It’s really embarrassing!” She bent down to Henry. “That’s Harry, not Dadda.”
Harry’s laugh was forced, and he knew Katie knew. But the photographers and the press officer were laughing heartily, and Sue, bless her, said, “My little brother did that for a while. My parents love reminding him about it.”
“Yeah, well, see you around maybe,” said Bennie. “Enjoy the zoo!”
She set off again, little Henry craning his neck around the side of the buggy.
CHAPTER 7
Katie
The child, Henry—Harry’s father’s name—could have been Maria’s identical twin. And Harry had turned white as a sheet. Apple White, in fact. White with a hint of nausea.
Sue, Ken, and Alex may have fallen for the “he calls everyone Dadda” explanation, but Katie knew it was a lie. She’d barely heard the words above the rushing in her ears.
How she got through the rest of the day, she’d never know. It was an out-of-body experience, smiling alongside Harry, playing at happy families. The only outward sign of the turmoil in her head was her shaking hands. As she buttoned up Maria’s jacket, Harry noticed them, and his eyes briefly flew to hers and she saw the guilt.
But then he carried on laughing and joking with the press team, posing like a catalog model. No one could have guessed he was waiting for the storm to break.
Harry hadn’t looked her in the eye since, and now the photographer was packing up and the press officer was saying her goodbyes.
Katie wondered how the rest of her life would be. It was about to start right now.
The three of them were alone, and Harry set off wordlessly toward the exit, pushing Maria.
Katie walked alongside. Who would speak first?
Soon they were out of the gate and on the Outer Circle, Harry scanning the road for a taxi. There were none in sight.
He flicked the brakes on the buggy and finally turned toward her. “Katie—”
“I want the truth,” she interrupted. “None of your usual bullshit.”
Harry looked taken aback, and Katie felt a pang of regret. She rarely used even slightly offensive language. Already, she was changed.
“How long has it been going on? Are you still seeing her?” She was surprised at the strength in her voice. As she said the words, she realized that, deep in her heart, she’d suspected something for a while now. The absences, the working late. Harry’s distracted air, the distance between them.
She’d suspected something, but not a child.
“Since the Christmas after we lost Summer.”
Nearly four years? Katie pulled her jacket tighter around her. Her hands were still shaking.
“I’m so sorry, Katie. It was . . . things weren’t great between us, if you remember, and Bennie was so . . . uncomplicated and easy to be with. She made everything less painful—”
“Like I did when your parents died.”
“Yes, sort of. And I’ll never forget how you made me feel better.” He raised his hand slightly, as if to touch her, then dropped it again.
“Go on.”
“She didn’t want anything from me, just my company. And we had fun, while you and I . . . we seemed to have lost that. It was wrong, I know, but I just needed somewhere to go, someone to talk to.” His eyes pleaded with her to understand.
Anger was rising up Katie’s gullet, like monstrous, seething black bile. She swallowed it back down. She’d wait until she was home before she let it all out.
“You haven’t answered the other question. Do you still see her?”
“Sometimes. Not often, though.”
“Often enough for that child to know you’re its father. Were you together when we were expecting Maria? When she was born?” Katie’s breathing was shallow and fast. “Has it been going on all through that time? Because, Harry, you say you needed someone who was easy to be with. And I thought we were happy then. I thought everything was good between us.”
“It was. When Maria was born I was going to end it, but then . . . I couldn’t abandon Bennie when she was pregnant. You can understand that?”
Katie said nothing. The days after Maria’s birth had been some of the happiest of her life. Now those memories were tarnished by betrayal. Forever. Harry had ruined everything.
“I don’t know what to believe. Probably nothing you say, ever again.”
“Look . . .” Harry paused to wave down a taxi. “We can’t do this now. Let’s talk properly when we get home.”
The taxi set off toward Fulham, Maria now asleep. Katie stared out of one window and Harry out of the other. Keeping the anger at bay was allowing the heartbreak in. Tears ran down Katie’s face, and she didn’t bother to brush them away.
The next two hours were taken up with the routines of feeding, bathing, and putting to bed. Katie was on autopilot, blocking painful thoughts as she went about the familiar tasks, taking a small degree of comfort in them.
Finally she joined Harry in the living room, where he was watching the evening news. He sat up straighter and looked up as she came in. “Katie—”
“Before you ask me what I’m going to do, I don’t know. But tell me, do you love her?”
Harry looked away, stared at the floor. “Not in the way I love you.”
Something inside Katie snapped. She’d never lost control in her life, until now. She picked up the nearest thing to hand, which was a copy of Hooray!, rolled it up, and hit Harry across his shoulders.
He raised his arms to protect himself. “Katie—for god’s sake! That’s not going to solve anything.”
“No, but it’s making me feel a whole lot better,” she said, delivering more blows.
“Then hit away, if domestic abuse is your thing. Let it all out, and then maybe we can move on.”
His smug comment gave Katie renewed energy, and she hit him again.
She was grimly satisfied when the stupid magazine bent into a state where it was of no further use as a truncheon. She dropped it on the floor, saying, “Piece-of-shit magazine made of terrible paper.”
Harry chuckled. “True.”
“I’m not laughing, Harry.” She sank into an armchair.
“Shall I get us a drink?” said Harry.
“I don’t want a fucking drink.”
“Katie, stop it. None of this is you.”
“It’s what you’ve made me.”
“Look, I’m sorry. Henry was an accident, but you of all people will understand that Bennie didn’t want to get rid of the baby. What was I supposed to do? Try and persuade her to have an abortion? Abandon her? I was trying to do the right thing.”
“Of course you were. You always try to do the right thing. You twist things until you can justify your actions. Have you never heard of contraception? Or of not sleeping around in the first place?”
“Her pills . . . she wasn’t great at remembering. Quite absentminded.”
The words cut like a knife. She and Harry had never used contraception. He’d suggested she go on the pill after Maria’s birth, but Katie had wanted to leave matters in God’s hands. Trying not to have a baby was a completely alien concept.
“How often did you see her?”
“Only occasionally.”
“Define occasionally.”
“Maybe once a month? Recently, anyway.”
“And at the start?”
“A bit more. That was when things weren’t great between you and me.”
“So it was my fault you hooked up with her?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m giving you a reason, not an excuse.”
“So what are you going to do, Harry?”
“I’ll end it, but I can’t abandon her completely. Or my son. I’ll give her a regular allowance for Henry.”
“What’s she doing for money? Does she have a job?”
Harry looked uncomfortable. “I’ve been covering the rent on her flat, and a bit more, until she can sort out childcare. It’s difficult for her, she doesn’t have any qualifications.”
Another rush of anger. “She’s a barmaid, for god’s sake! You don’t need qualifications for that. Apart from badly dyed blond hair and cheap clothes. How much have you been paying your prostitute?” She spat it out.
“That’s not worthy of you, Katie.”
“Perhaps you don’t know me anymore. You’ve hardly been here, so that would make sense.”
They seemed to have reached an impasse, and a heavy silence filled the room. Katie’s eyes slid past Harry’s lowered ones to the wall beyond, to the painting of the English village.
“I want to move to the country.”
He looked up in surprise. “What? Why?”
“It’ll be better for Maria, and it’ll be a fresh start. We’ll move to somewhere with a fast commuter link, have a new life, more children. I’m terribly hurt, Harry, and angry, but I don’t want a divorce. I’ll never divorce you. It’s against everything I believe in, and . . . despite everything, I still love you.”
“I don’t want a divorce either, Katie. I still love you too. You believe that, don’t you? But must we really move out of town?”
When she didn’t answer, he continued. “It’s difficult to explain, about Bennie. I guess I just needed someone to be with who wasn’t part of my normal life.”
“Isn’t it more because she wasn’t doing it to get pregnant? Because that’s what the problem was, right? You wanted all the fun and none of the angst and responsibility. Must’ve been a terrible shock when you found out you were going to have not one but two children.”
“Look, we’re only going round in circles now. I’m not against the idea of moving, though we’d have to sell Berryhurst.”
“Give the tenants notice. I don’t want to wait, Harry. I’m done with London. I’ve been mostly unhappy here.”
“Unhappy?” Harry looked stung. “Why would you have been unhappy?”
“Recovering from Summer’s death? Two miscarriages? Coping with Maria by myself because you were never home? How was I supposed to be happy?”
“A comfortable life, nice job, good friends? Doesn’t any of that count? For Chrissake, Katie, there’s more to life than babies.”
“Family is everything to me, Harry. Do you not understand that, after all these years?”
They stared at each other, until Harry dropped his eyes.
Katie felt calmer for having released the bile. But she also felt a deep, gut-wrenching sadness that Harry had driven her to behave in a way that wasn’t her. She was a kind, gentle person. Everyone said so. Now she felt the last of her old, trusting self evaporate into the ether, replaced by a person she’d never expected to be. Suspicious, angry. A little spiteful. She hadn’t meant what she’d said about being unhappy. There had been plenty of good times. Those words had been squarely aimed at Harry’s precious conscience, designed to hurt.
She hated that he’d done this to her. Hated that she’d never again be able to give herself, heart and soul, to Harry. From now on she’d always hold something back.
CHAPTER 8
Katie
Stop fretting, darling,” Cassandra said as Katie watched the nanny pushing Maria on a toddler swing. “Look away! Look at me. Tell me all your gossip.” She pushed her sunglasses up onto her head and widened her eyes at Katie.
Things One and Two were at their grandparents’, and Cassandra had come over to have lunch with Katie, bringing her nanny, Debbie, to take care of Maria. They’d brought sandwiches and a bottle of wine to the park.
“You haven’t heard, then?”
“About what?” Cassandra leaned forward across the picnic table. “You got something juicy for me?”
“Doesn’t get much juicier.” Katie gave a strangled laugh, then said, “Well, I can’t say you didn’t warn me.”
Cassandra’s smile disappeared. “Oh. Oh, shit.”
There was something about the way she said it, about the way she sat back a little, as if taking cover from what was to come. As if she knew what that was.
“You knew. Oh my god, you knew.”
“What are we talking about here?” Cassandra didn’t meet Katie’s eye.
Katie was silent. A thousand thoughts scrambled for attention. Cass had betrayed her too. And almost certainly Charles. An iciness was creeping through her veins.
Who else knew?
“The wife’s always the last to know, so they say.”
“Katie, I—”
“How long have you known?” Her voice was flat. She expected to feel anger, but there was only sorrow.
“Oh god, Katie, I’m so sorry you found out. Believe me, when Charles told me, I drove myself mad wondering what to do. He begged me not to tell you, said it wouldn’t help anyone. But, Katie, I had no idea it was still going on. How did you find out? That’s if he’s still with . . . I’ve forgotten her name.”
Katie wasn’t fooled. Cassandra had been about to mention a name, but if it hadn’t been whoever that was, that would mean more than one other woman. Had there been more than one? Katie felt the world shift beneath her feet again. All these years, no matter what they’d been through, she’d thought, deep down, she and Harry were solid as a rock. But there had been an earthquake.
“It’s a barmaid,” she said. “Terrible cliché, I know. And she’s even a badly dyed blonde.” She looked down at her hands in her lap. They were shaking. “I used to know her, actually. She worked in the Dog and Duck, left just before I stopped work at the gallery. Angus will remember her, all the guys fancied her. Obvious type. Looks like Madonna. Or at least, tries hard to.” Being bitchy was helping, though Katie had in fact liked Bennie and had envied her ability to strike up an easy conversation with any old punter at the bar.
