Keeping Secrets (44 page)

‘I …' He took off his glasses, and rubbed them with his handker-chief.

‘Sorry. I'm not usually so direct, I don't know what's got into me. Perhaps this is what giving up drinking does to you.' She sat down suddenly, as she had done in the shop. ‘Sorry,' she said again.

‘Please don't be sorry.' He smiled, putting the glasses back. ‘We can't both be sorry. Not all evening.'

Their eyes met and she smiled too, cautiously. ‘No, no I suppose not.'

On the Rayburn the thick soup began to make plopping noises, heating up.

‘That smells delicious.'

‘Carrot and coriander, very simple. It's one of Jon's favourites.' She got up again and went to stir it with a wooden spoon. He saw a photograph on the mantelpiece, a dark-haired boy with his arms round the dog.

‘Is that him?'

She glanced up at it. ‘Yes. It was taken last summer, it's quite a good one.'

‘May I look?' He took it down from the mantelpiece, standing next to her. The boy smiled at him, open and happy, leaning against the dog's thick coat. ‘He looks very nice.'

‘He is, he's lovely.'

‘And happy. He looks very okay, if you don't mind my saying so.'

‘He was – at least I hope he was. Now – God knows what he thinks about everything. I hardly see him.' She lifted the saucepan, moving away from him, pouring the soup into bowls. ‘It's rather early to eat, isn't it?'

‘It's fine. I'm hungry, anyway.'

‘Good.' She passed him the bowls, and bent to take rolls from the oven. ‘What about you?' she said as they sat down. ‘Do you have children?'

‘Two girls.'

‘Who are?'

‘Hettie and Annie, six and three.'

‘And? Tell me about them.'

‘Well … they're kids, you know.' He started on the soup: it was hot and very good. ‘Annie was a pain, but she's getting a bit better; Hettie's always been easier, she's a born head girl, I suppose. Very together.'

‘You do like them?' she asked wryly.

‘Of course I like them. I just don't see them as much as I should, I suppose.'

‘Because of work. That sounds familiar. You said that you're a solicitor?'

‘Yes, in north London. Holloway. I specialise in criminal law, a lot of my clients are young offenders.'

‘The solicitors in Woodburgh do nothing but conveyancing and divorce.'

‘I can imagine. I noticed their offices – a bit different from ours.' He described the first-floor rooms, the narrow stairs, the thunder of lorries down the main road.

‘Doesn't all that get on top of you?'

‘Sometimes. It did last summer.'

‘And you teach, too; you said you'd just come from Norwich?'

‘I do a visiting lecture number every now and then – different law schools.' He had finished his soup; he noticed she had hardly touched hers. ‘That was excellent.'

‘I'm glad you liked it.' She took a token sip. ‘And what about your wife – does she work?'

‘She looks after the girls. Perhaps when Annie starts school …'

‘Then she'll want another one,' said Miriam. She put down her spoon and said abruptly: ‘You've seen this baby.'

‘What?'

‘This baby.
The
baby.'

‘Yes, yes, of course.'

‘Your nephew.'

‘Yes.'

‘What's he – what's he like?'

‘He's … he's like any other baby. Well – not to us, I suppose, but …' He shrugged, helplessly. ‘I don't think describing babies is my forte. And anyway …'

‘And anyway this is a difficult situation.' She covered her face with her hands. Tony was silent. He wanted to comfort her, but it wasn't his place, and anyway, what comfort could he give? He sat and waited. After a few moments she said: ‘Have you ever met my husband?'

‘No. Never.'

‘But this – this affair has been going on for rather a long time. Hasn't it?'

‘I think so, yes.'

‘Is he with her now?'

‘I don't know. He … wasn't. I mean, not since Christmas.'

‘Really? He must be with James, then. His partner.'

‘I wouldn't know.' He felt at sea again. ‘Are you saying – do you mean he hasn't been here since Christmas?'

‘He comes and goes. He's always coming and going, it's how he operates. He was here last weekend … Now you see him, now you don't.' She waved her hands impatiently. ‘That's enough. I don't want to talk about it any more, I really don't. I was feeling … in control. Talking about it churns me up again.'

He said again: ‘I shouldn't have come.'

‘Actually I'm glad you did, it makes it real. Confirms it all. It'll stop me pretending it hasn't happened. There's been quite enough pretence here.'

He was silent again, waiting for more.

‘And what about you?' she asked. ‘Aren't you going to tell me anything?'

‘I don't know what there is to tell.'

‘There's always something to tell. You wouldn't be here if there wasn't. Would you?'

He shrugged.

‘
Are
we in the same boat?'

‘No. Not in the way you mean. My discovery was rather more … subtle? That is to say there is nothing to show for it.'

‘Tell me. Why not? What are encounters like this for, if not to tell secrets? After all, we're never going to see each other again.' She was fiddling with pieces of broken roll. ‘Are we? Tell me about your wife.'

He spread his hands. ‘Where is one supposed to start? In a strange way you remind me of her – you don't look in the least alike, but there's something. She's – how shall I put it? When we met she was recovering from a breakdown – well, a suicide attempt. She's very vulnerable, she doesn't like the world. Or perhaps I should say she's afraid of it.' He stopped, and drew a breath. ‘My discovery was that she hates sex. I mistakenly thought I had cured her of that.'

‘And how did you find that you hadn't?'

‘Hilda told me.'

Miriam began to laugh. ‘Hilda sounds quite delightful, I must say.'

‘No,' he said quickly. ‘I can't let you make her into something evil. She's not, she really isn't. I know you're the wrong person to say this to, but she's having a pretty hard time.'

There was a pause.

‘You mean you're in love with her, too.'

‘No! Absolutely not. God Almighty – I just mean – she's human. I don't think she ever knew what she was letting herself in for.'

Miriam gave a long sigh. ‘I don't know what to think. It's hard to forgive either of them. As for me being like your wife … it's true I don't like the world very much, or rather I don't find life very easy, but even in all this I've never considered suicide. In fact, at new year, I felt as if I'd been reborn.' She shook her head. ‘Does that sound overblown?'

‘No. Not at all.'

‘Well – these things don't always last. And as far as sex goes, I have a different problem: it's my husband who doesn't like it. Not with me, I mean. Not any more.' She blushed, and turned away.

Tony sat watching her, looking at her waving silvered hair, at her softly ravaged face, dark beneath the eyes.

He said: ‘He must be crazy.'

‘Please.'

In her corner across the room Tess got to her feet and went to stand by the garden doors, looking round at them.

‘You want to go out again? It's wet out there.' But Miriam, clearly relieved at the distraction, got up and went to open the doors. At the sight of the driving rain Tess hesitated; Miriam gave her a little shove. ‘Go on, make a dash for it, you're not a cat. Go on, Tess, perhaps you'd better.' The dog went out slowly, and Miriam looked out after her. The wind was even stronger; they could hear the trees begin to roar.

‘We had a lot of damage last month,' she said, shutting the doors. ‘The woods across the lane were ripped to bits. It looks as if we're in for another go, doesn't it?' She cleared the bowls from the table, and went over to the Rayburn. ‘What was it like in London?'

‘Wet,' said Tony. ‘A lot offences down. Do you really want to talk about the weather?'

‘Yes,' said Miriam. ‘It's been worth talking about, hasn't it? Jon says it's part of the whole change in climate, he joined the Greens last summer, he's very into it all …' She was melting butter in the omelette pan, turning it from side to side. ‘Would you like plain, or cheese?'

‘Neither.'

She lifted the pan from the heat and put it aside; she turned to look at him, leaning against the rail. He took in for the first time how lovely her clothes were, how gracefully they suited her: soft straight skirt, pale shirt, a waistcoat. She looked suddenly much younger, vulnerable and wary. Their eyes met, and held. He wanted to stroke her, touch her, hold her, to show her just how beautiful she was.

He said slowly: ‘I want to make love to you.'

She looked away, biting her lip. ‘I didn't ask you to come back here for … all this.'

‘I know.'

‘If it wasn't for the weather … I can give you the number of a bed-and-breakfast in Woodburgh where you could stay …'

‘I don't want to stay in a bed-and-breakfast. I want to stay with you.'

There was a long silence. At last she said:

‘Because of your wife …'

‘No. Because of you.' She shut her eyes, and he said gently: ‘Wouldn't you like to?'

‘That's not the point. It isn't – wouldn't be – a solution.'

‘Does it have to be?'

She didn't answer.

‘Miriam?' He pushed back his chair, scraping it along the floor. ‘Please?' He stood up slowly. ‘Open your eyes. Look at me again.'

She did so, biting her lip again. ‘It isn't right.'

‘Nothing's right,' he said. ‘I've tried to do the right thing all my life – now I just want to do this. For us. No one need ever know.'

She shook her head. ‘That's what … they must have said. That's just how it must have started.'

‘Forget them,' he said. ‘Just for tonight. This is you and me, no one else.' He moved round the table and went towards her, holding out his arms. ‘Please?' He was in front of her; he folded her to him, kissing the top of her head. ‘You're beautiful. You're so beautiful.'

‘No, I'm not.'

He could feel her fighting back tears. ‘You are, of course you are.' He lifted her face and kissed her, her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, running his hands through her hair. ‘I want you, I can't tell you how much I want you … Yes? Yes?'

‘Yes,' said Miriam, and raised her mouth to his. They stood rocking gently from side to side, like people who have been lovers for a long time, and have no need to hurry. Then she reached up and took off his glasses, clumsily, almost dropping them. ‘Sorry.'

‘There must be no more sorrys. Here.' He took them from her, and slipped them into his pocket.

‘Now you can't see.'

‘I can touch,' he said, and wrapped his arms round her again. ‘I want to take your clothes off. Where shall we go?'

Outside the house the wind tore at the branches of the trees across the lane and twigs snapped like gunfire; it lifted tiles from the roof and smashed them on to the path; rain beat against the windows and they shook in their frames.

‘Hold me, hold me.'

‘I'm here, I'm here, don't cry, you're so lovely … there … is that …'

‘Yes. Oh, yes … Don't stop, don't stop …'

Afterwards, they lay in the dark listening to the wind and the rain rage round them.

‘All right now?'

‘Yes.' She laid her head on his chest, took his hand and kissed it, holding it to her cheek. ‘And you?'

‘Very all right.' His fingers stroked her face as they lay together in silence. ‘Tell me about rebirth,' he said at last.

‘Oh … when I stopped drinking. I'd been drinking for years, in secret.' She shook her head. ‘Horrible.'

‘Because …'

‘Because I was lonely. And couldn't have another child, and – oh, everything. It all came to a head when I found out – I did something dreadful… never mind, I don't want to talk about all that any more.'

‘And how did you stop?'

‘I don't know, I wasn't even trying, not really, but I started to go for long walks, just to get out of the house. It was so fresh, and quiet and peaceful … oh, my God.' She sat up suddenly.

‘What?'

‘Tess. She came with me, that's what made me think …' She was getting out of bed. ‘I'd forgotten all about her, I must get her in.'

‘I'll go.'

‘No, she doesn't know your voice, she's getting old …' She was moving across the room, he watched her, naked, reach up for a silk kimono hung on the back of the door. ‘Poor Tess.' At the door she turned and looked at him in the light from the landing, falling into the room, and smiled. ‘Don't go away.'

‘I won't.'

‘Anything you want from downstairs?'

‘Only you.'

She leaned against the door frame. ‘I feel weak with happiness.'

‘Go and get the dog. I'll be waiting.'

She went along the landing in bare feet. Tony lay listening to her go down the stairs and open the front door. ‘Tess?' She closed it again, and then she must have gone into the kitchen, because he couldn't hear anything except the roaring trees. He got up and went to the window, but it was too dark and wet to see anything, and he got back into bed, hearing Miriam calling faintly, from the back of the house: ‘Tess! Tess!'

He lay back on the pillow – and Alice's pale silky hair and dreamy, enclosed, secretive face came floating up to meet him, as if in water, drowning, and he groaned.