Page 62 of We Live Here Now

78

Emily

I’ve done a lot of thinking in the couple of days since Sally and Joe left and the house fell still.

We are not like those other couples. We are going to be okay. Mark’s paperwork didn’t arrive, so I’ve chased him and he’s emailed me copies as proof while he gets a second lot of papers prepared. I’ve told him to send the replacements recorded delivery. That way the postman will have to bring them to the house, but it doesn’t matter if Freddie sees them. I’ve finally made my decision. I’m going to tell him about the money and we’ll work through his problems together. We’re both flawed. We can both be selfish. He’s gambled away all our money because I nearly died, and I’ve coldheartedly blackmailed one of our friends to save us. Neither of us is perfect. But at least we’re whole.

We’ve been together a long time and I don’t want to give up on us now. I don’t want us to become like all those other couples, staying together out of habit, love having curdled into mild contempt. We’re better than that. And I’ve got the money and a plan. Yes, Freddie can be weak under his sweetness, but I need to accept that, and anyway it leaves space for me to take charge. I’ve found four potential places in France that could work as a home with space for a little bed-and-breakfast or Airbnb. We could leave everything behind and start again. Live our best lives.

I’ve gone into Wiveliscoombe for the day, and while the librarian prints out Mark’s documents, I’ve found a comfy chair and am browsing a book on living in France. I’m not keen on spending too much time in the house alone, especially after what Sally said aboutit bringing out the worst in its residents. I’d thought about that all night after they left, and she’s right. I would never have blackmailed Mark before we lived in Larkin Lodge. And the way Freddie and I fought about the nail. That wasn’t like us. There were plenty of things happening in the house that weren’t Sally too. The cold draft. The way the bathroom door opened just enough for me to follow Mark and Cat but not enough for me to get caught. Who knows why the house is the way it is—there was no explanation in the ledger—but maybe it came from the energy of the miserable souls buried so awfully at the crossroads for hundreds of years. So much misunderstood unhappiness. Maybe that’s why the house draws couples with problems to it. I was angry with Freddie when I was looking at the house, and he said that the house was there on my iPad when I was in the hospital, but I’m pretty sure I’d closed the window down. I always do.

The house wanted us. But I’m wise to it now.

After an hour or so a group of nursery children come into the library for story time, so I get some lunch at a cute café, grab some beef from the butcher for dinner, and then, after going to the pharmacist, on my drive home I pull in at the vicarage.

“Hey.” As Paul opens the front door, I hold out a cake box. “I was in the village for lunch and they had such a great cake selection I bought you a couple.” I’m on a charm offensive after seeing the cautious side glances he kept giving me when he came over last Sunday. It may take us a couple of months before we sell the house, and I want to get our friendship back on an even keel.

“That’s so very sweet of you. Thank you.”

“I can’t stop but I wanted to thank you for being so supportive since we’ve moved in. You’ve made us very welcome in the village.” Behind him the narrow hallway is filled with the plants from Sally and Joe’s studio and my stomach flutters wondering how they’re getting on. “And I’m sorry again for getting snappy in the car. The pain can really affect my mood sometimes, but I’ve been taking stronger painkillers and they’re really helping.”

“I’m so pleased to hear it.” He steps a little back into the house. “Are you sure you won’t come in?”

“I can’t today. But don’t be a stranger. Maybe we can keep one another company while Sally and Joe are away.”

“I would like that. And it’s good to see you looking so well. You’re positively glowing.”

“Honestly, I feel great, I really do.”Glowing.Am I glowing or is he being polite? I guess the pack of three pregnancy tests in my bag will answer that question soon enough. “I’ve turned a corner and my head is much clearer. I think I’d underestimated the effect of my accident on my senses. Looking forward to seeing my specialist and getting the all-clear.” I nod at the plants before he can comment. “Are you managing with those okay? Any news from Sally and Joe?”

“I’m doing my best. And I had a text to say they’d arrived but that was it. I expect they’re too busy having fun.”

“I expect so.” I can only imagine. “Anyway, I should get back. I’m attempting a beef Wellington for Freddie today. Wish me luck. And feel free to pop up any time.”

I breeze off to the car, and his smile as he waves me off is much more relaxed. I feel good and my leg is hardly aching today. Time to get home and prep dinner. And then there are the pregnancy tests. I can’t fight the excitement. Time to expunge my guilt.

It’ll be like I never cheated. I can pretend all that was just a dream. I’m going to be a good mother. I know I am.

79

Freddie

She cooked beef Wellington for dinner tonight and got dressed up and was all smiles and affection. It took every ounce of energy to play along while in my head the wheels kept turning to the rhythm offucking bitch fucking bitch fucking bitch.Two long days since I found the envelope from Mark and she’s been sweetness and light and not said a word. I chewed the meat and pastry—at least one of us can afford to buy a huge lump of organic finest beef—until it was a pulp, not trusting my dry throat to be able to swallow.

I can’t figure her out. What game is she playing? She’s got this one hundred and fifty thousand pounds from Mark hidden away, but she’s still here playing the forgiving wife. I did the washing up, insisting she go and relax, and she kissed me, telling me to hurry so we could watch a film together. She had lipstick on her teeth and it suddenly revolted me. My wife felt like my enemy. I made a work excuse, ignoring her disappointment, and went to the red room with my laptop and pretended to work. Eventually she went to bed, and I promised to join her as soon as I could.

I haven’t joined her. I’ve been staring at the red walls, lost in the heavy flock wallpaper, thinking of her cold dead body. The insurance claim. The money that would be all mine. Even Mark’s one hundred and fifty thousand would come to me. What’s good for the gander is good for the goose.

The house cools around me as the night thickens outside. She said she’d been out all day today, in the local town, and once again I’d noticed her eyes slip away from me as if she was hiding a secret. Ican’t stop thinking about her seeing a divorce lawyer. Maybe they’ve told her she has to keep up the charade of pleasantries. Don’t give me time to launch a counterattack. Devious little Emily. My stomach gurgles, the heavy dinner too rich for my nerves, and I get to my feet. I should go to bed. Sleep on it. Be fresh in the morning. The bees are buzzing so loud in my head I think it’s going to split.

A lamp is on in the sitting room, and as I go to turn it off, I see Emily’s iPad on the coffee table still has its screen lit up even though she’s been upstairs a while. It’s weirdly not locked but open on her emails. I pick it up, sitting on the sofa, and am about to go into search to see if she’s been chatting with a divorce lawyer when I realize the email thread that’s open is from her old work account. And the date is from a few weeks before the holiday. I didn’t even know she could still get into that account. I presumed it was all deleted when she left, but maybe she archived them for reasons I can’t fathom. What other explanation could there be?

It’s not a group thread, just Emily and her old boss, Neil, who she always raved about but who I thought was a bit of a smug prick. Handsome in an older-man way, I guess, but even if Em couldn’t see it I knew he looked down on women a little, like they always needed looking after or rescuing. One ofthose.

I pause before hitting the search button, my eyes catching on a phrase.I have no regrets and we’re both adults but I perfectly understand. And this is premature, but please know that you’re getting the promotion tomorrow. Not because of this, obviously, but because you deserve it. It had already been decided before the conference, in case you had concerns.

Not because of what? And why was he talking about no regrets? Them both being adults?

I open up the whole thread and feel steadily more sick as I read the whole thing through. I remember the conference she went to. It was over a weekend. A bunch of them from work were going and she said it would be good for her promotion chances.

---