Page 25 of Behind Her Eyes

‘I have to go,’ she says, and he looks up, surprised.

‘Not another session?’

She shakes her head, awkward. She hasn’t told him about this. ‘No, it’s my lawyers. They’re coming in. I want to talk to them about some stuff. You know, all the inheritance things.’ She doesn’t know why she feels so flustered, but she does. ‘See how clearing out the damage on the house has gone. Getting security people to set up alarms and stuff around the land.’

‘They’re coming in for that?’ She can almost hear his brain ticking over.

She lets her hair hang over her face as she gets up. ‘Yeah. It’s complicated.’ Finally, she gives him a dazzling grin. A heart-melting grin. One that says everything is fine. ‘You concentrate on pinching yourself. If you don’t get the hang of this soon, I’m going to think you’re faking your nightmares.’

He smiles back. ‘Okay, Yoda. But only for you. I might have a wank first though.’

‘Gross.’

They’re both smiling as she leaves, and that makes her happy. She knows Rob worries. She knows he thinks David has too much control over her. And she knows that he absolutely wouldn’t be happy with what she is about to do.

21

LOUISE

It’s been ten days since Adele gave me the e-cig starter kit, and a week since I’ve smoked a real cigarette, and I can’t help the feeling of slightly smug pride as I tuck it into my bag and stroll in to work. I should have tried it earlier really. I’ve seen them everywhere, but like everything else on my personal to-do list, giving up smoking always ended up carrying over to the next day. But I could hardly not try it once Adele had spent the money on it, especially given everything. I didn’t expect to like it, I didn’t expect it to work, but it’s nice to wake up and not have my hair reeking of smoke. The same with my clothes. Adam will be happy too, and Ian, not that he really matters, but at the same time I don’t want to be the kind of mother who the second wife can judge for smoking even though she has a child. And now I’m not. True, I probably use it too much – it’s so easy to use in the flat – but I’ve made a vow that when Adam is home, I’ll treat it like a real cigarette and go out on the balcony when I want it.

There’s a spring in my step as I breathe in the summer morning air, and I feel happy. I shouldn’t. Everything is, in so many ways, a total mess, and all my fault, but somehow I’m managing to ignore that. I’m even guiltily enjoying Adam being away a little bit. I miss him all the time, but I have more freedom now. I can be a woman of my own rather than justAdam’s mum.

This morning the scales had gone down over a kilo. Not only is it day ten of e-cig, it’s also day ten of no pasta, potatoes, or bread, and I can’t believe how much better I’m feeling for it already. Adele was right. Carbs are the devil’s work. Save them for treat days. It’s also so much easier to follow a diet while Adam’s not home. Plenty of steak and fish and salads. Eggs for breakfast. I don’t even feel all that hungry, but that’s also partly because my stomach is in knots of lust and guilt for most of the time. Maybe I will drop the half a stone after all. I’ve even cut down on the wine, and what I do drink, I factor into my calories for the day. Now I need the dream thing to kick in so I can have a decent night’s sleep. I need to do the routines every hour today instead of starting well and then letting it slide. I’m determined to try harder. I feel as if, after everything Adele’s helping me with, I’m letting her down. I know how crazy that sounds too.

I’m early – for once these days – and rather than going straight in, I decide to stroll around the block and enjoy the beautiful morning. It’ll also add to my step count, the new app on my phone quietly insisting I reach my ten thousand. Another Adele idea. She is a good friend to me. And the worst part is, that if any of this ever ended up on some tabloid TV chat show, I would be seen as such a bitch. Maybe I am one. I’m behaving like one anyway. I know that. But nothing is ever that clear cut, is it? I do really like Adele. She’s the best friend I’ve had in ages, and she’s so different from other people. So elegant and sweet and interested inme. With Sophie I feel like I’m begging to be fitted into her social calendar. It’s not like that with Adele. I’ve barely texted Sophie since Adele came along. Her friendship should be enough, I know. But it hasn’t been. I may not be eating so much these days, but I’m still greedy. Adele and David. I want them both. Another reason I haven’t spoken to Sophie. She’d give me an earful over it. I dig out the e-cig and puff on it as I walk.

Anyway, I tell myself as the clinic comes back into view, the sex can’t last. Adam’s only away for a couple more weeks or so, and I won’t be letting David in at night after that. What if Adam ever met Adele? What if he talked about David? And what kind of mother wants to set her son that example? To say that it’s okay for a married man to come around, fuck, and then leave? I try to tell myself that’s my main concern, but I’m kidding myself. My main worry is that Adam is too young to keep secrets, and if he ever gets dropped off at the clinic after school for some reason, the last thing I’d need is for him to recognise the man who visits Mummy some nights. It’s all so sordid. Worse than that, it’s a stupid, selfish thing to be doing. But when David touches me, I come alive. I love the smell of him on me. I love the feel of his skin. I love his smile. I’m like a teenager when he’s there. And then when I’m with Adele I feel like Imatter. I’m important to her.

I can feel the waistband of my trousers moving slightly as I reach for my office keys. I’m definitely getting slimmer. Perhaps between the two of them, David and Adele, they’re bringing me back to life.

‘I wasn’t sure if you wanted one.’ Sue has the kettle boiling and is holding up a bacon roll. I can see the ketchup grease through the paper. ‘No problems if you don’t, I can always find a home elsewhere for it.’ She smiles. ‘Or, of course, eat it myself.’

‘No thanks,’ I say, happy to break another routine. ‘Tomorrow’s treat day.’ I’m hungry after last night’s sex, but I’ve got two hard-boiled eggs in a Tupperware pot, and I’ll have those instead. Preparation is key in a diet, Adele’s taught me that too, and I boil up the eggs six at a time and store them in the fridge. The bacon does smell good, but there’s a strange pleasure in refusing it. As if I have control, at least oversomething. The bacon isn’t the pleasure I should be saying no to, but it’s a start. ‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I should have texted you and said. I’ll give you the money.’

‘You’ll do no such thing.’ Sue puts my tea in front of me. ‘You’re looking well at the moment. Glowing almost.’ She looks at me curiously.

‘I’m not pregnant if that’s what you’re asking!’ Despite the recent lift in my mood, thatpregnancyword is never far from my mind.

‘I was going to ask if there was a new man in your life actually.’

‘I should be so lucky.’ I laugh then, and concentrate on peeling my egg.

‘Well, carry on as you are and you’ll be fighting them off,’ she says. ‘A pretty woman like you shouldn’t be single. It’s time to get back out into the dating game.’

‘Maybe,’ I say. ‘Right now I’m just concentrating on me.’ I still smile, although I feel a little sick imagining trying to explain it all to Sue with her life-long marriage and settled ways. Sue would think I’m crazy and wrong, and I am. But I’m also happy for the first time in what feels like for ever, and is that really so terrible? As long as no one gets hurt? We’re all keeping secrets. Adele, me, and David. As long as it stays that way, can’t I have this? Can’t I have both of them?

Sue’s still looking at me, sure I’m hiding something, and I can’t blame her for it. I know that my eyes are sparkling and there’s a spring in my step that’s been missing for a while.

I finish my eggs and look down at my hands, counting my fingers. I hope Adele is okay. Did they fight last night? Is that why he came around? Or did he claim he was at his outreach to get out that way? I think about them more than I think about me sometimes. He’d been drinking, but he wasn’t drunk when he left. He could probably have covered it. I’m starting to think he’s pretty good at covering up his drinking. Maybe I should try and talk to him about it. His drinking. Maybe that’s what’s wrong in their marriage? Adele doesn’t really drink at all. When we’ve had lunch, I might have a glass of wine, but she doesn’t. I need to cut down more too. Less wine will definitely help drop my extra pounds more quickly.

I leave Sue to her second bacon roll and go to David’s office to set the coffee machine going. In a stupid way it’s like pretending to play house with him. I have butterflies in my stomach and I can’t stop the excitement. I’ve always liked my job, but now there is an added thrill to it. I find myself looking at his hands as he signs off on prescriptions and letters and remembering how they’ve touched me. Where they’ve been.

I still sometimes think about how panicked Adele was when she thought she’d miss a phone call, and all those pills in their cupboard, but maybe there’s nothing sinister in it really? Maybe sheisnervy. Even she admitted she had problems in her past. Perhaps David’s behaviour is protective rather than controlling? Who really knows what goes on behind closed doors? I can’t ask him about it anyway, not without letting on that I know Adele, and then he really would think I’m a crazy stalker,andI would have betrayed Adele. It’s all so messy. I know it is, but that doesn’t stop my heart thundering in my chest when he appears in the doorway.

‘Morning,’ I say.

‘And a good morning to you.’ He looks tired, but his smile is warm and genuine, and his blue eyes twinkle just for me, and heat rushes in blotches to my face. It’s ridiculous. We work together every day. I should be used to the sight of him by now, but this morning is different. Something shifted last night when we lay in bed and talked. Of course it didn’t last – the familiar guilt soon settled in between our cooling bodies. Men are strange. As if the betrayal is in the laughter and the closeness rather than the sex. But then I guess it is. That thought hurt me most when Ian cheated, once I’d stopped obsessing about the sex. Maybe because laughter is harder to compartmentalise.

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