My Husband's Lies Read online

  He follows Dan to the kitchen, glad to talk about anything but his stony-faced wife. When they return to the lounge, Geri’s sitting next to Lisa, chatting about babies. Then the doorbell rings and Will bursts in noisily with the other guests in his wake, and though Lisa smiles broadly as they take their places in the dining room, he’s glad to be sitting on the lads’ half of the table.

  Turning to Ian on his left, he asks about the match at Old Trafford, then wishes he hadn’t when he remembers the result. Though generally amiable and quiet, Ian can be morose when it comes to bloody football. It’s the ref’s fault, of course. It was never a penalty. The goal was offside. Nick nods and drinks, but he drifts, suddenly remembering a dream from last night. Not just yelling this time, but kicking and biting. The memory makes him hot and angry even now.

  Lisa’s clear voice brings him back.

  ‘That looks flipping delicious, I’m starving,’ she’s saying.

  Wearing his naked lady pinny, Dan has brought in the starter, something along the lines of a huge prawn cocktail.

  ‘That’s us,’ Penny says. ‘From Costco, I’m afraid. Life is too short for spending hours in a kitchen.’ She puts her hand to her mouth and laughs a little strangely. ‘Oh dear. No pun intended.’

  There’s an embarrassing silence, which Geri interrupts. ‘Serving spoons, Dan?’ Then the conversation restarts, Will dominating it as usual. Not that Nick minds. Will is good to have around, talks to anyone about anything, even if his quips are sometimes too close to the bone.

  Leaning forward, he tops up Jen’s glass and takes in the silky blouse which shows her deep cleavage. She smiles and says cheers, but she’s quiet. Her chatter usually matches Will’s, but tonight she looks pretty knackered, if he’s being honest. Feeling the champagne bubbles against his tongue, he smiles a small smile. He’s learned from the taxi journey that being honest isn’t the best policy, so it’s best to keep schtum. As he stares, Jen abruptly revives, looking at Ian and telling a story about taking Holly on a big wheel ride when she was tiny. He glances at Lisa, knowing what she’s thinking. Disapproving thoughts, he’s sure. ‘What the hell were they doing taking a small kid on an amusement ride? That’s plain stupid!’ she’ll say later. Of course she’s right, but perhaps one shouldn’t be too judgmental. His parents had a child who died. Not falling from a big wheel, he’s sure, but still, what the heck did happen?

  He pushes the thought away and turns his attention towards Will. The conversation has moved on to cricket, so he waits for the usual crack about his batting. It comes almost immediately.

  ‘Third slip catch to win against Manchester Grammar. Remember, Dan? Sweet victory. And Nick’s magnificent nineteen not out, if I remember correctly.’ Will chuckles and turns to Lisa. ‘Guess what this is, Lisa?’ He makes several impressive quacking noises.

  ‘Go on …’

  ‘Nick’s eight ducks in a row.’

  Though Ian laughs loudly, Lisa doesn’t smile. Nick wants to stand and kiss her then. ‘Nick was good at cricket,’ she says.

  ‘That’s what he told you, eh? The lies people tell to cop a pretty nurse—’

  ‘Ignore Will, Lisa,’ Dan interrupts. ‘Nick was very good. Spin sensation, as he was known—’

  Will lifts both his eyebrows and his glass. ‘And not just for cricket.’

  Hearing the name Mouse in his head, Nick glances at Jen. She’s gazing in the distance, so he shakes his head with a grin and tops up the champagne flutes.

  When he sits down, Penny stands and taps hers with a spoon. ‘OK,’ she says with a quavering voice.

  Feeling tense, he looks at Lisa, knowing what’s coming.

  ‘OK. Rather than a toast, I’m going to embarrass everyone, particularly myself, but I think it has to be done.’ She turns to Lisa, then him. ‘Firstly, you two. I want to apologise for ruining your wedding day.’

  She puts her hand to her chest, emphasising her slim neck which is flushed with red blotches.

  He doesn’t know what to say; he doesn’t really want to think about it. He knows Lisa’s still intrigued, but the blip came and went, as far as he is concerned. Everyone murmurs that it wasn’t a problem. Then Lisa pipes up in her best nurse’s voice. ‘It wasn’t ruined, Penny. Dan called it a blip. That’s how we all see it. And it’s all forgotten now.’

  Penny opens her mouth again, but Will interrupts, ‘A blip, eh, Mr Maloney?’ He points a finger at Dan. ‘You should’ve seen him. Super Dan. All puffed up like Sylvester Stallone, charging at the hotel door.’

  ‘Sylvester bloody Stallone? He’s a hundred and three and deformed by steroids. Cheers, mate.’

  ‘OK, point taken. More like—’

  Knowing he and Lisa are reprieved, Nick joins in the banter, ‘Gerard Butler in 300? What do you reckon, Ian?’

  ‘King Leonidas? Yes, I see that. Dan’s bit of a beard looks the part too.’

  ‘Bit of a beard? Thanks, Ian. I can tell I’m going to die of compliments tonight. This beard is a bloody good effort, though I say so myself. Right, I’m laying down the gauntlet. Between now and Easter, see if you guys can do better.’

  Will leans forward and strokes his chin thoughtfully. ‘Ah, but are we including the women?’

  Nick stands again to top up the drinks. Dan covers his glass with his hand, Penny and Geri shake their heads, but the rest of them seem to be getting through it pretty quickly. He asked Lisa if she minded bringing the bottles tonight. ‘What better way than to share it with friends,’ she replied, pecking his lips. ‘And how about the cognac from Seb? Doubt we’ll drink it.’

  Seb had turned up at their house on a bicycle one evening with two bottles in his rucksack to replace one he’d apparently drunk at the wedding. ‘There was really no need,’ he said, but Seb had seemed affronted. When he left after half an hour of strained chat, Nick had looked at Lisa questioningly. ‘When someone makes the effort to cycle from Withington to Burnage in atrocious weather to bring you a present, you don’t say there’s no need,’ she sighed.

  Getting it wrong as usual.

  Dan’s hand on his shoulder brings him back to today. ‘Dessert? Pavlova just for you, Nick.’

  ‘Thanks, maybe later.’

  Will stretches his thick arms and laughs. ‘What’s up Nicky boy? Need to keep that sugar intake topped up.’

  Lisa refills her glass. ‘Tell me about it. I’m still trying to wean him off those bloody biscuits.’ She leans over the table and squeezes him playfully. ‘I blame the parents.’

  Nick looks at Jen again, but she’s twisting her dark hair, apparently miles away. He reaches for the brandy without responding to his wife’s comment. She’s only joking, he knows, but feels the dig is wearing thin. Dan puts out the dessert anyway, saying that the birds will get toothache unless someone does the honours. Then the conversation moves on as they graze on cheese, crackers and grapes, discussing the difference between cognac and brandy, whether the price of alcohol really makes any difference to taste, and he is suddenly aware he’s had too much to drink.

  ‘So, what exactly happened with Seb and Claudia, Will?’ Lisa is asking, her accent more pronounced from alcohol as usual. ‘I was desperate to ask when he came round, but even I thought that would be a question too far. I never met her, but apparently she was stunning.’

  Will laughs. ‘Tall and dark, with legs that went on forever. And French.’ He fans his face theatrically. ‘No idea what you mean.’

  Lisa leans forward. ‘Let’s face it, he won’t be single for long. He’ll find someone equally as gorgeous with a click of his fingers. He’s pretty stunning himself.’

  Will rubs his cropped hair. ‘Which, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, runs in the family—’

  ‘But of course, William. The stunning Taylors of Old Withington Town,’ Nick quips, wishing Lisa didn’t have to go on quite so much about bloody Seb.

  ‘That’s what I was saying to Dan earlier,’ Geri says, standing up. ‘About Seb finding someone new. But I guess everyone
is different, maybe moving on isn’t as easy as it seems.’ She taps her temple. ‘Who knows what’s going on in here for any of us? Nobody! Unless you’re the type to fess up, of course. Hope you guys don’t mind, but I’m shattered. I really need to lie down.’

  Geri makes for the door, but the goodnight hugs take some time, prompting a debate about the baby’s sex and comical suggestions for names.

  Will gives the final hug. ‘Blooming heck, Geri. You’re enormous. Are you sure there’s only one in there?’

  ‘Too rude, Will!’ Penny says when she returns to the table. She looks thoughtful for a moment. ‘How does the twins thing go? I should really know. Identical twins are hereditary, non-identical are not. Or is it the other way around?’

  ‘I had a twin sister,’ Nick blurts, startling himself. His voice sounds loud in the small silence and he’s aware of its slur. ‘A sister who was a twin, I should say.’

  Jen suddenly animates. ‘You’re joking,’ she says, surprise showing on her bleary face. ‘Patrick had a twin sister? What happened to her?’

  He thinks how to answer, but Lisa speaks first. ‘She died, apparently, so Nick can’t ask his mum or dad,’ she says, reaching out for his hand. ‘I know it’s none of my business, and really sad too, but I admit I’m intrigued to know what happened, how she died, how old she was and all that. And this twins thing. As Penny says, if it could be hereditary, Nick and I might be in for double trouble one day.’

  ‘Aren’t your brothers twins, Lisa?’ Ian asks, finally joining the conversation.

  ‘Nah, they just look it. The Welsh Kray twins. I know! Heard that one before.’

  Jen leans across the table towards him; he can see her lacy black bra. ‘Why don’t you ask Patrick about it, Nick? I know he’s a bit older, but he’s still our generation. He might be more willing to talk about it. Just the two of you?’

  He tries to listen to what she’s saying, but has to focus on breathing. He suddenly feels sick, the need to vomit even worse than a boat trip on a choppy sea with the A Team long ago. He pictures Will’s grin. ‘Come on, Nick, don’t look so green. Salute like a man. We’re a nation of sailors!’

  Resting his head on the table, he hears Lisa ask for a taxi number from the bottom of the ocean, then he’s in Dan’s car, still fighting to keep the puke down.

  He’s sick in the bathroom at home. He can’t move from the toilet. Lisa’s voice is brisk. ‘Keep drinking that water,’ she says through the waves. He obediently takes a slug but it comes up again.

  ‘Sorry,’ he manages.

  ‘What are you like?’ she replies, and when he looks at her face, she’s smiling.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Jen

  Jen drifts in the high-ceilinged dining room, the warmth of the old column radiator on her back. That and the champagne makes her drowsy. The lack of sleep too, but she doesn’t want to dwell. She promised Dan to bring her smile; she’s doing her damnedest to oblige.

  She glances around the table. The boy-girl arrangement they had when they first gathered as couples has long gone. Now Ian and the A Team sit at one end, the girls at the other. She was piqued when it changed, she liked being in the thick of male banter, but today it’s a relief not to be sitting next to Will.

  Penny had telephoned to offer her and Ian a lift, but Will was driving when they arrived, thank God, so she quickly slipped in the back seat and chatted to Penny. Though a little wooden, somehow, she looked amazingly well; back to peachy-cheeked and polished, smiley and pleasant. The sort of nice woman who deserved a baby. Will’s baby.

  ‘That looks flipping delicious, I’m starving.’

  Lisa’s loud voice prods her back to the conversation. Dan is bringing in the starter wearing the daft apron Will bought him from Edinburgh.

  ‘That’s us. From Costco, I’m afraid,’ Penny says. She lifts her hand and smiles shyly, her teeth perfect and white. ‘Oh dear. No pun intended.’

  Jen glances at Ian and he lifts his eyebrows. She thinks of filling the silence, but Geri gets there first. ‘Serving spoons, Dan?’ she says.

  ‘And the carton of thousand island sauce which came with each platter,’ Penny adds, her cheeks flushed.

  Dan tugs his forelock and backs out of the room. Hearing Will’s melodious voice in the background, Jen holds out her glass to Nick and drifts for a while, but Geri’s chuckle brings her back. ‘Poor Dan,’ she says. ‘I feel almost guilty. Sitting here like a beached whale barking instructions.’

  ‘A sea lion, then,’ Will replies. ‘You know, the barking …’

  The thought arouses a memory. ‘Oh God, remember Portugal, Ian?’ She turns to the other inquisitive faces around the table, avoiding Will’s steady gaze. ‘We went to one of those sea life shows, which was dreadful. Poor sea lions clapping their … What do you call them? Fins? Flippers? Looking back, I feel guilty about those poor animals, but at the time we were far more concerned about that bloody big wheel, weren’t we, Ian?’

  Ian finally animates. ‘God yeah. We took Holly on with us. She was only two or so. I don’t know what possessed us—’

  ‘Maria was standing up, leaning over the side of the car and pointing to the sea. I discovered I had a fear of heights, and there was Ian in the swinging seat below—’

  ‘Trying my best to hold on to Holly, who’d transformed herself into a bar of soap. My gorgeous little girl. I really thought she’d slip through my arms. Never again!’

  Dan turns to Geri and lifts his glass. ‘Here’s hoping our baby will pop out like a bar of soap—’

  ‘Which you’ll catch with your safe hands, eh Dan?’

  Jen glances at Will’s face as the conversation flows about cricket; the same stories told year after year. Will Taylor the steady opening batsman, Nick Quinn the spin bowler and Dan Maloney the all-rounder. She leans towards Geri. ‘Soap and cricket balls,’ she says with a snort. ‘Bloody men, eh? They have no idea. Probably just as well. How are you feeling about it all? Not long to go …’

  Geri replies in her usual sunny way, but Jen doesn’t really listen. She’s still picturing Holly as that bar of soap and how she watched Ian from the seat above struggling to hold on to her as they reached the pinnacle of the ride. It was the helplessness that was so petrifying, the sure knowledge there was nothing she could do other than pray.

  She takes a deep breath, wondering why she brought it up; the clutch of anxiety is there, like a fist in her chest. And Ian has been quiet all evening. The football result, surely? But quieter than usual. God, she wishes her mind would stop parroting his query about the nap, the bloody nap.

  Gazing at Geri’s spirited face, she tries to listen to her birth plan. ‘You don’t know yet,’ she wants to yell, ‘you won’t realise until he or she is born the sheer intensity of the love you’ll feel, the paralysing terror of ever losing that baby, that toddler, that teenager.’

  All eyes turn to Dan as he brings in the food like an obsequious waiter. The others laugh, but she stares at the food, hoping it tastes good. Risotto and pasta, quiche and the gammon. Of course Ian was right, she made far too much. And Dan has supplemented it with a salad which smells surprisingly of oranges.

  ‘Need any help?’ she asks, looking at Dan.

  He puts the back of his hand to his forehead. ‘Don’t worry about me, Jen,’ he says. ‘I’m just a slave to the kitchen.’

  When the laughter dies down, Penny suddenly stands and taps her glass with a spoon. Feeling the apprehension in the room, Jen gazes at Penny, taking in the simple shift dress and her pretty face. As usual it’s made up in neutral tones, emphasising her cheekbones and giving her that ethereal beauty. But her neck looks red raw, as though it doesn’t belong.

  Not able to hold back, Jen’s gaze slips to Will, but he’s staring at his plate.

  ‘OK,’ Penny says with a bashful smile. ‘Rather than a toast, I’m going to embarrass everyone …’

  Picturing that doll-like girl teetering on the ledge, Jen struggles to focus on her wor
ds, but after only moments, the A Team are joking, albeit a little forced. She catches Ian’s raised eyebrows before turning to Penny and rubbing her arm. ‘Good try,’ she says. ‘But there’s no stopping them now. Famous beards of the world is my guess. You won’t get another word in all night.’

  Even though she isn’t hungry, she piles food on her plate, asking Penny if she’s back at work, trying to remember what she already knows from her, rather than Will. She doesn’t want to think about his visit in the week; the thought of him becoming a parent still makes her feel sad.

  She studies Penny as they chat, her straightened soft hair and slim shoulders, aware of Will’s gaze on her while his wife is turned away. But tonight she finds she can’t look back. She knows he’s wearing the stripy Ralph Lauren shirt she and Ian bought for his birthday with the blue faded jeans that she likes, she knows he’d rather be drinking beer than champagne, that he deliberately interrupted Penny’s speech because he found it embarrassing, but she can’t look because she fears she might cry. She can feel the tears at the surface from too much alcohol mixed with anxiety about Holly and stupid sorrow.

  When Geri stands, Jen looks at her watch, surprised to see it’s eleven already. Geri taps the side of her head, saying the words she’s been thinking all evening. ‘Who knows what’s going on in here for any of us? Nobody!’

  Everyone stands to bid Geri goodnight. When they sit down again, Nick abruptly speaks. ‘I had a twin sister,’ he says, his voice slurry. ‘A sister who was a twin, I should say.’

  Jen peers to see if he’s joking. Though pretty gone herself, she can tell he’s very drunk, but his pale face is serious. Bloody hell this is news; they’ve been friends since they were five. ‘No way,’ she says. ‘Patrick had a twin sister? What happened to her?’

  The thought of babies prods through the haze, but she recognises the troubled frown on Nick’s face. Feeling the usual surge of motherly concern for little Mouse, she leans across the table, trying to help with advice.