My Husband's Lies Read online

  ‘Push them with a little finger and they’ll both fall off their perches,’ Lisa whispers, reading his thoughts. She holds out her hand. ‘Come on, husband. Time for bed.’

  As she stops to negotiate the short flight of stairs to the bridal suite, Lisa wobbles. Feeling a surge of emotion, Nick collects her gown from behind and steadies her by the waist. It’s their first few moments completely alone as man and wife and he wants to freeze-frame them: the feel of the crisp silk in his hands, the innocence of her small stockinged feet on the carpet, the whispery curls of hair on the nape of her neck, the sleepy smile on her contented face.

  Perfumed by a huge bouquet of white flowers, the warm room feels foreign when they go in. The lights are muted, the soft linen turned back.

  ‘Can you help me with my dress, dearest hubby?’ Lisa asks.

  He fumbles with the tiny buttons as she chats. She’s happy, her voice drowsy, and he’s glad, relieved the blip hasn’t spoiled her special day.

  ‘I would like to consummate our marriage,’ she’s saying, struggling with her words. ‘But I’m too pissed. As Dylan said, “Someone’s boring me. I think it’s me”. Thomas, not Bob,’ she mutters, before collapsing onto the bed, still wearing something old and something new.

  Turning to his wedding tails, Nick slips his hand in the pocket and pulls out the silver horseshoe trinket. Keeping it upright, he traces the engraved names with his finger. Good luck for him and Lisa, he thinks with a smile. A little naff, but sweet of Iris. Then, with a frown as he pictures her face: but who the hell is Susan?

  CHAPTER NINE

  Dan

  Dan is splayed on his stomach in the rumpled bed.

  ‘Dan,’ Geri rocks him gently. ‘Don’t forget it’s the walk.’

  ‘Shit.’ He sits upright. Then holds his head. ‘Shit.’

  ‘So the expensive stuff still gives you a hangover.’ Geri smiles. ‘My wee dram tasted lovely, though. I can’t wait until I can drink what I like, eat what I like, sleep all night.’

  ‘Thank God I drank water before bed.’ The image of Seb Taylor hits him, followed moments later with a thought: perhaps I misread it. He turns to Geri. ‘Is it raining?’

  ‘No, it’s lovely. At breakfast it was lovely.’ She pulls back the heavy curtains, revealing a glint of sunshine on the bare branches of the trees. ‘See?’

  ‘Sorry. Was breakfast nice?’

  ‘Smoked salmon and scrambled eggs. I sat with Ian and the girls. No one else was there at first. Oh, except Nick’s brother. Patrick, is he called? A little … strange? Then that older couple appeared. The man who has a genuine Teddy boy quiff? His godparents, I think.’

  ‘Yeah, Nick’s rich Uncle Derek.’ He takes Geri’s hand, pulls her down onto the bed and gently rests his head on her belly. ‘Sounds like you were given an early call. Naughty boy.’

  ‘Or girl.’

  ‘Or girl. Can’t wait either way.’

  ‘I might give the walk a miss, Dan. I could do with closing my eyes and trying for a nap. Do you mind?’

  Dan shakes his head. Sees Seb Taylor’s naked body. ‘Maybe I should stay with you.’

  ‘You can’t miss the walk! Think of Nick and Lisa, trying to get back on track, wiping out the blip of yesterday.’

  Those Renaissance blank eyes bring him back. ‘Bloody hell, what a blip. Incredible.’

  ‘True.’ Geri looks at her watch. ‘Come on, Dan. Shave, shit and shower. In whichever order is the fastest. The walk starts in twenty minutes.’

  Standing from the bed, he tests his head with a twitch. ‘Any painkillers in your handbag? And can we escape as soon as I’m back from the walk? I don’t want to hang around and I’d rather phone Will from home. Is that OK?’

  Geri cocks her head and gazes for a moment as though reading his mind. ‘Suits me,’ she replies with a shrug.

  He’s surprised to find bruises on his thighs and his stomach, and despite fumbling with the shower, the soap and his walking boots, Dan arrives in the hot reception just in time.

  Newly married Mrs Quinn is handing out photocopies of the route. Her fine hair is still in its wedding chignon. She keeps lifting her hand as though to check it’s still there. She looks tired and her smile seems too bright. Like a jaded holiday rep, he thinks. And Nick seems distracted. He’s chatting and smiling too, but it’s as though there’s the slightest delay, like his mind is elsewhere. But then again, who can blame them? What Dan himself described as the blip must still feel fresh for them both. He just keeps temporarily forgetting.

  He touches Nick’s elbow. ‘Everything OK? How was the bridal suite?’

  A slight delay before the pale eyes focus. ‘Yeah, great. The room’s fabulous. It’s a shame there isn’t enough time to really enjoy it. Come and have a look later. Geri not walking?’

  ‘Sorry, no.’

  ‘Oh right. So a walk could bring on—’

  ‘God no, she’s not that close to …’ Nick’s guileless face makes him smile. ‘No popping for several weeks yet, Nick. She’s just tired. Needs a nap.’

  ‘Oh right.’ Nick grins. ‘No hot water and towels, then?’

  ‘Only for me when you’ve dragged me to the top of that bloody Welsh hill.’

  Inhaling deeply, Dan tightens his laces. He pictures Geri’s sleeping face as he left. He’s looking forward to becoming a dad, he honestly is, but the whole idea of a real baby is nebulous. Being an only child, he’s never even had a sibling. He has no idea what to expect. Mostly he’s fine, but sometimes the thought of the responsibility leaves him breathless.

  The walkers head off towards a rocky stile. The breeze cooling his cheeks, Dan hovers near the rear and discreetly glances around the group of twenty or so adults. Seb Taylor isn’t there, thank God. Popping a mint from his pocket in his mouth, he registers the weak sunshine. Then he shakes his head and smiles to himself. What was it Will said yesterday? All’s well that ends well. Bloody hell, what an ending. But Penny’s safe and she’s home. Geri’s sleeping. Everything’s fine.

  He pictures Seb’s naked body a last time. He misread it, definitely, panic over.

  A sudden touch on his shoulder makes him jolt. ‘No Geri?’ a voice asks, but it’s Jen, just Jen, appearing from bloody nowhere like a sniper. Slipping her arm into his, she propels him forward. ‘You can be my chaperone, Danny Boy. Keep me upright.’ Looking pretty rough, she slides on her sunglasses. ‘That’s better. I confess I was hoping for rain.’

  He smiles wryly. ‘Me too.’

  ‘What, Super Dan miss a walk? You must’ve polished off the bottle. I should’ve warned you about Seb.’

  ‘Warned me about Seb? How?’ he replies, conscious his voice has emerged in a ridiculous squeak.

  ‘Oh, he can drink anyone under the table. Despite being beautiful, honed to physical perfection, kind and sweet, et cetera et cetera.’

  ‘You sound as though you don’t like him.’

  Unexpectedly stopping, Jen slips down her sunglasses and looks at him pointedly. Then she sighs. ‘I do like him, but he’s always been Will’s little brother. Trips to Crocky Trail, Chester Zoo, Blackpool and stuff. Then suddenly he’s a grown man I don’t know all that well. Boy to man in a blink. It’s weird really.’

  Picturing the cropped hair of the swimmer, Dan wonders how to respond, but Jen speaks again.

  ‘I wonder what happened with Claudia. Both bloody gorgeous, they seemed a good match. I only met her the once, but it was pretty embarrassing, if I’m honest.’ She looks wistful. ‘You know, loaded eyes, intertwined fingers, shallow attention. In love, I suppose.’ Then she laughs, her tone back to sardonic. ‘Or maybe it was lust, transient but delicious. Like the croissant I pinched on the way.’

  Pulling a flake of pastry from the ends of her hair, Dan laughs. ‘Evidence,’ he says, glad of something to distract his hot jumble of thoughts. ‘Back to the lab for testing …’

  Jen doesn’t seem to hear. ‘I keep thinking about Will and Penny. It isn’t something that happens ev
ery day, is it? What would you do? What would you do if it was Geri?’

  He smiles thinly. ‘God knows. Ask my mum?’

  ‘As much as I love her, Will’s mum would be no use. She’s … delicate. And pretty old these days, like Nick’s mum and dad. Funny, that, my parents started young. Like me, I guess.’ Raising her eyebrows, she laughs. ‘Many a slip ‘twixt cup and lip, as my grandma put it.’

  They continue to climb companionably, breaking apart for the muddy puddles, then linking again.

  Abruptly pulling away, Jen takes off her sunglasses and waves. ‘Just what we wanted, there’s Seb!’

  ‘Oh right,’ Dan replies. Hoping the alarm doesn’t show in his face, he nods towards Nick. ‘I’ll leave you and Seb to it. Better check on the groom. See if he needs a push after the rigours of his wedding night.’

  Catching up with Nick, Dan tramps on, his walking boots heavy on his feet. He’s hungry and thirsty and nauseous, aware of Seb Taylor’s head at the front, inches above the other walkers. Aware when Seb stops, aware when he turns his dishevelled head.

  ‘Look there,’ Nick says suddenly and Dan follows his arm towards the windswept coast and the grey choppy sea. ‘See below that ridge? The oaks are in a sort of canopy. Apparently they’ve been stunted by the strong wind and they’re a haven for woodland flowers and creatures.’

  Dan raises his eyebrows, surprised at Nick’s interest. It feels like a conversation between strangers, weird and surreal. Like the astonishing blip; like bloody Seb Taylor. ‘Sounds lovely. Not exactly central minging Manchester, is it?’ He smiles, tasting the salty air on his lips. ‘She’ll turn you into a country boy if you’re not careful.’

  ‘Nah, not Lisa. She hasn’t lived here for years and since her mum died there isn’t the need to visit very often. I think we’ve successfully converted her.’ He pauses for a moment, then grins, the familiar Nick Quinn returned behind his toothy smile. ‘Except the rugby. When it comes to rugby, she’s Welsh.’

  The oasis appears without warning, an old farmhouse building rendered white, with shiny worn cobbles and casks in its yard. ‘You go ahead,’ Nick says. ‘Better wait for the wife!’

  Real ale, hot drinks and traditional cakes are on offer at the bar. Not ready to face food after all, Dan knocks back a mug of strong tea, helps himself to another and sits.

  Jen thumps down at his bench with a cup of hot chocolate and a plate. ‘Welsh bakestones, apparently,’ she says, nibbling the cake. Then leans in to whisper, ‘I feel guilty, but I can’t summon up the usual court jester stuff today, so I’m going to cheat.’ She slips on her sunglasses. ‘God knows I could do with the exercise, but I’ve asked Ian to drive up with the girls and collect me. Bloody hangover! Don’t think I can face the walk back.’

  Dan looks around the low-beamed room. The numbers seem thin. ‘I don’t think you’re the only one.’ He rubs at a knot in the wooden tabletop. ‘Take it Seb has gone too?’

  ‘I don’t know, he was outside smoking something that wasn’t a cigarette.’

  He feels surprise and mild outrage. He’s never done drugs, not even weed.

  ‘Oh, don’t be so square,’ Jen says, laughing. ‘You should see your lemon face. It’s what the young ones do. They do weed instead of cigarettes.’

  ‘We’re not that much older than Seb. Four, five years, tops,’ he says, thinking, thirteen, the swimming gala; Seb Taylor was thirteen.

  ‘Maybe you’re right; I lose track. God, I keep thinking about Will and what he’s going to do.’

  Dan nods, thinking of the quip about asking his mum. His mum is the last person he’d ask about anything, but he joked because the thought of losing Geri scares him. Without Geri there, strong and solid, he’d be lost.

  A beep from the courtyard interrupts the small silence. Jen lifts her sunglasses and peers through the leaded window. ‘Ian’s a bloody star. Do you want a lift back?’

  ‘Cheers, but no thanks. Catch up with you soon.’

  He strolls to Nick and the remaining handful of walkers. Jen’s offer was tempting, but he’s still the best man, the only best man. He sits at a rustic table, chatting with the other guests until Lisa announces in her clear-cut Welsh tones that it’s time to walk back to the hotel and that if anyone needs a wee, now is the time.

  Stroking the soft growth on his chin, Dan reminds himself to shave. He takes out his mobile to call Geri, then remembers she’ll be napping. ‘Just texting Geri. Catch you up,’ he calls over to Nick. When he looks up from his phone, Seb Taylor is sitting on the other side of the table.

  ‘Perhaps I did get it wrong,’ Seb says with a small smile. He looks different again. Like he’s just out of bed. Tired eyes, messy hair, unshaved chin.

  Dan feels his face growing hot. He’d rather forget it.

  ‘Or perhaps not,’ Seb adds, his startling blue eyes piercing Dan’s.

  Dan drops his gaze, the blush deepening. Seb’s legs are touching his under the table. ‘Full marks for the correct answer first time,’ he says, lamely trying for a quip. ‘Everyone’s going, we’d better get a move on. I just need a piss.’ He nods to the outside door, willing Seb away. ‘Don’t wait. I’ll catch up with you.’

  The downhill walk takes less time. Trying to focus on the other walkers’ conversation at the front of the group, the heat in Dan’s cheeks finally recedes. It took him ages to piss. He had to sit in the cubicle and wait, like a stupid bloody teenager.

  Geri is waiting on the sofa in reception when he returns to the hotel. She comes to the doorway and smiles her sunny smile. ‘The miracle of fresh air! You all look much better than you did three hours ago.’ She lifts her dark eyebrows in silent communication. ‘My back’s been aching and it’s a long drive home. Would you mind if we leave sooner rather than later, Dan? We’re all packed.’

  ‘Come on, Dan, there’s time for a half,’ somebody says. ‘We’re looking forward to dishing the dirt part two.’

  Dan crouches to pull off his muddy walking boots. He’s aware of Seb close beside him, removing his jumper, kicking off his soiled trainers, peeling away his damp socks. He turns towards Nick, feeling guilty, but still ready with the apology and excuse, the need to bolt imperative.

  ‘That’s fine, Dan. You and Geri get off,’ Nick says, beating him to it. ‘We’re all going soon. See you after Barbados!’

  ‘God, I’m jealous.’

  ‘I won’t send you a postcard. Just pics of white sandy beaches, clear blue sky, turquoise sea. If I get chance between a few rounds of golf, water sports, caviar and cocktails at the pool …’

  They joke for a few moments, the smile back on Nick’s face. Dan feels Seb’s body move away. ‘Nice to meet you, Geri,’ he hears him say. ‘Back in Manchester now. Got your number. Be catching up with you very soon.’

  Dan takes a deep breath before standing. The tone of Seb’s words was just friendly, wasn’t it? Bloody hell; bloody hell. Why do they feel like a threat?

  CHAPTER TEN

  Penny

  Gritting her teeth, Penny knocks.

  The woman is fairly young, late twenties or so, the same age as her. She puts a clipboard on the desk, holds out her hand and gestures to the chair next to hers.

  ‘Thanks for coming in, Penny. I’m Debbie, a therapist in your care team. How are you feeling today?’

  Almost holding her breath, Penny nods, ‘Fine, thanks.’

  She doesn’t like this; she doesn’t want to be here. It’s embarrassing, humiliating, unnecessary, but she has to do it for Will. She wants to stop him from worrying with that anxious strange stare.

  The woman smiles and makes eye contact. ‘Well, fine is a good start. Do you know why you’re here today?’

  Doesn’t the woman know she did a medical degree? Well, almost. But she has to behave and answer the questions like a very good girl. ‘Psychological therapy,’ she replies politely. Then, as though reading from the script, ‘Helping me find out what happened and why. Helping to find ways of coping, so it doesn’t happen a
gain.’

  The woman sits forward, her face open and interested. ‘What did happen, Penny?’

  Penny breathes, remembering the paranoia, the voice, the certainty. They feel distant now, thank God. ‘A panic attack, I suppose,’ she says eventually.

  Far more than a panic attack, she knows. She let Will down badly. Bad, bad Penny. Did all the things she promised herself not to do. She can picture it now, like a film in slow motion. Will’s shaking hand in hers, his unreadable tight face. The guests trying not to stare as he led her out to the car.

  The woman nods to her notes. ‘I only have the bare bones. Tell me more. Where were you?’

  ‘At a friend’s wedding reception.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘It was in a hotel. I went to the room and I opened the window to call my husband.’

  The woman waits for her to speak, but she doesn’t want to describe the stupid certainty, the rhythmic, coaxing tune in her head.

  ‘What happened then, Penny?’

  ‘He thought I was going to jump. Maybe it looked like that but …’ Taking a deep breath, she tries for a smile. ‘He was mistaken. Maybe I got too close to the window … I might have stood up, just to look out. You know, a beautiful view …’

  Oh God, she’s talking too much. Stop and breathe, stop and breathe.

  ‘And then?’

  ‘He came to the room with …’ Oh God, the shame. ‘With a friend and they kicked in the door.’

  ‘Why did they do that, Penny?’

  ‘They thought I was going to jump from the window, I suppose.’

  She waits for the woman to ask the question, but she just nods sympathetically.

  ‘I wasn’t,’ Penny says. How many times must she say it? To her mum and dad and the doctor and Will. Especially Will; her Will, her Will. ‘I had no intention of jumping. I’m not suicidal. Really. That wasn’t why I was there.’