The Truth About You (18 page)

‘Mum?’

‘Yes?’

‘Are you sure you’re all right?’

‘I just have a headache.’

‘So you wish I’d go away?’

‘No, it’s nice lying here like this. We don’t do it often enough these days.’

Tierney linked her fingers through her mother’s and tried not to think about how hungry she was.

‘Oh no,’ Lainey smiled, as Zav came skidding along the landing and crashed into the door with a resounding thud. ‘Mum! I’m outside. Can I come in?’ he shouted.

Laughing, Tierney shouted, ‘Where are you?’

‘Outside!’ he repeated indignantly. ‘Where are you?’

‘In here.’

With that the door flew open, and seeing his mother and sister lying on the bed he took a running leap to dive on to them. Catching him, Lainey pinned him down while Tierney tickled him until he managed to fight his way free and climb on to his mother.

‘Surrender?’ he demanded, punching his hands in the air.

‘Never!’ Lainey cried.

‘Yes you do. I’m the champion, and tea’s ready.’

‘I’ll race you down,’ Tierney challenged.

Springing up from the bed, he was off like a shot with Tierney hard on his heels.

Given the choice, Lainey knew she’d probably stay in bed for the rest of the night, but it wouldn’t be fair on Stacy, and would probably end up worrying the children. So, getting to her feet, she went into the bathroom to splash some water on to her face.

Since sending the message suggesting Kirsten might like her job, there had been a resounding silence. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, though it had never been like him to engage in a row by text.

She wondered what he was doing now, how he was feeling, if he was even thinking about her and the kids.

Reaching for a towel, she started to dab her face, but stopped as her heart turned over. They were due to fly to Italy in less than two weeks, and she felt suddenly afraid that he might decide not to come with them. He knew how much this trip meant to her, and he’d always supported it, but maybe it was no longer a priority for him.

Regarding her flushed cheeks in the mirror, she felt herself stiffening with anger and resolve. Whatever he decided, she’d booked everything now, and no way was she going to cancel.

IT WAS THURSDAY
morning now, and the only messages Lainey had received from Tom were either work-related, or to ask if she was all right. Her replies had been brief, giving him whatever information he was seeking, while saying nothing about herself; nor did she mention his radio interview on Tuesday.

When she’d tuned in she’d half expected to find he’d withdrawn from it, but he was there – or at least at the end of the phone – and listening to his light-hearted banter had left her boiling with rage and frustration. It wasn’t that she’d wanted him to sound broken, or tormented, or even distracted (actually maybe she had), she just hadn’t been prepared for him to sound his usual witty, erudite self. No one listening would ever have dreamt that he might have been in the process of walking out on his wife and children to be with the nation’s forgotten sweetheart and their teenage daughter. He’d made the presenter and other guests laugh, repeatedly, and had gamely joined in other discussions that weren’t focused on him. She’d wondered if Kirsten and Julia were in the room with him, providing a live audience of two while he spoke down the line. It was what she, Zav and Tierney had often done, Max too if he was around and in the right mood. After the broadcast was over she’d usually sit with him to discuss what had been said and how well it might have gone down.

Being an expert in the field of interviews, Kirsten had undoubtedly done that for him on Tuesday; very probably she’d done it many times in the past.

It had been a horrible couple of days since, two of the worst Lainey could remember.

‘Are you all right?’ Tierney had asked when she’d come down for breakfast this morning. ‘You look terrible.’

Knowing she did, Lainey had managed an ironic sort of smile as she lopped the top off a boiled egg. As she’d put it in front of Tierney, a row of soldiers lined up around it, she’d wondered what Kirsten Bonner gave Julia for breakfast. No doubt something proper and healthy like fresh fruit and muesli. They had those things too, it was just that neither of her children liked them. Nor did Tom, come to that, only her, but she hadn’t had any this morning; she’d had no appetite.

‘Mum, you’re not getting in a state about me being in London for my birthday, are you?’ Tierney had asked as Lainey had helped carry her bags out to the car. She was taking them to school ready to leave with Skye as soon as the final exam was over.

‘No, no, I’m fine,’ Lainey assured her. ‘I just didn’t sleep too well last night.’

Dumping her stuff in the back of the estate, Tierney turned to gaze frankly into her eyes. ‘You’ve got to make up with Dad,’ she stated. ‘Life is too short to go on like this and whatever he’s done, it can’t be that bad.’

Thank God it didn’t seem to have occurred to Tierney that he might already have left them. She really wouldn’t want her thinking that, especially when it might not be true.

Please God it wasn’t.

She kept wondering how she could doubt it, how she was even managing to contain her anger, though there wasn’t much point to it when he wasn’t here to receive it.

‘Have you packed all your presents?’ she asked Tierney as she went round to the driver’s side.

‘I think so. Zav, you’re in the back, not the front,’ Tierney snapped.

‘I know, I was just getting my iPod,’ he retorted, his small frame weighed down by the enormous bag on his shoulders.

‘You can’t take it to school,’ Lainey told him.

‘Yeah, but I can listen to it in the car, can’t I?’ he cried. ‘It’ll save me listening to you two going on about all your stupid stuff.’

With a sudden sunny smile, Tierney wrapped him in an embrace and planted a smackeroo on his forehead.

‘Yuk!’ he protested, wiping it off.

‘You know you love me really,’ Tierney teased, getting in beside her mother.

‘I do not,’ he assured her, climbing in the back. ‘Mum, are you taking me to football after school or is Alfie’s mum?’

Unable to remember, Lainey said, ‘I’ll text you later to let you know.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Tierney insisted when Lainey finally dropped her off. ‘Everything will, I promise.’

Lainey took the small comfort as if it were a prediction and tucked it deeply into her heart. From Tierney’s lips to God’s ears. She disliked that phrase, but it was what had come to her mind and she wanted so much for everything to be all right that a little assistance from above, or anywhere, wouldn’t go amiss.

At the school gates Tierney turned to wave, and Lainey felt tears stinging her eyes. It wasn’t that she minded about Tierney wanting to spend her sixteenth with friends (well she did, but realised she had to learn to let go), it was more that it felt as though everything was slipping away.

Checking the time now and calculating that Tierney would be midway through her biology paper, she sent a message for her to pick up when she came out.
Hope exam gone well. Have a good journey to London. Don’t forget to call tonight. Love you, Mum xxx

She jumped as the phone rang, and seeing it was Stacy she clicked on. ‘Hi, how’s it going?’ she asked. ‘Have you met Diana’s backers yet?’

‘I have,’ Stacy confirmed, ‘and everything’s looking good so far, but that’s not the reason I’m calling. ‘Have you seen today’s
Guardian
?’

A bolt of unease jarred in Lainey’s chest. ‘No,’ she replied. ‘Do I want to?’

‘I’m not sure. Tom’s got a piece on page nine about why the Coalition might not survive the next parliamentary session.’

Lainey was still bracing herself in case Stacy went on to tell her something that might hint at, or even reveal, the personal events in his life, but it seemed that was it. ‘Do you think he wrote it this week?’ she asked, certain that no request for such a piece had gone through her, which was what normally happened.

‘Given the detail, he must have.’

Lainey’s head started to throb. So while she was here tearing herself apart, not knowing from one hour to the next what the future might hold, he was at Kirsten’s dashing off articles about what it might bring for a bunch of irrelevant politicians.

Didn’t he care about her feelings at all? He must have known she’d see the piece, or at least hear about it, so was that what he wanted, for her to realise that life was going on as normal for him – though with Kirsten at his side now, instead of her?

‘Are you still there?’ Stacy asked.

‘Yeah, I’m here,’ Lainey replied, biting down on her fury and pain. ‘Tell me more about your meeting with Diana’s backers.’

‘I will when I see you. I just wanted to know if you’d seen . . .’

‘When are you back from London?’ Lainey interrupted. ‘Why don’t you come over on Saturday night? We can open a bottle or two . . .’

‘Oh no, please tell me that doesn’t mean Tom’s not coming back,’ Stacy protested.

Lainey’s heart skipped a beat. ‘I don’t think we should count on it,’ she replied tersely. ‘He seems very comfortable where he is, and now he’s given Tierney permission to go to Skye’s . . .’ She didn’t want to go on with that. ‘Did you tell your new bosses you’re going to Italy?’ she asked.
Please don’t let her back out, please, please.

‘I did, and Diana’s sure we can work something out. Worst-case scenario, I won’t be able to stay for the entire month.’

It would do, just as long as she was there for some of the time, especially if Tom backed out. He wouldn’t though, would he?
‘That’s great,’ she told Stacy. ‘With the way things are I might not go for that long myself. Or, who knows, if I find I have family there I might end up staying for good.’

There was a wryness to Stacy’s tone as she said, ‘I know you’re not writing your marriage off that easily.’

It was true, she wasn’t. The trouble was, until Tom came back there was precious little she could do to save it, if it was even in trouble, and she still wasn’t entirely sure about that.
Of course it’s in trouble, you fool. He’s shacked up somewhere with another woman. How much more trouble do you want than that?

In her worst moments, when the anger about where he was and the way he was hardly in touch became so intense she could hardly bear it, she came close to packing up his belongings, loading them into a lorry and sending them to Kirsten. If she had an address or phone number she might well have done it, but she had neither, and an Internet search hadn’t revealed anything particularly useful about the woman either. At least, not as far as her residence was concerned. What Lainey had discovered was that Kirsten Bonner had written several children’s books and three chick-lit novels in the past ten years, all under the pseudonym of Beverly Crane.

Had Tom helped her to get published?

Only an idiot would imagine he hadn’t.

It was unnerving Lainey badly to find herself wondering when lawyers might start becoming involved. Would he try to force her to sell the house? The mere thought of it incensed and terrified her. She couldn’t give up her beloved home, but she couldn’t imagine giving him up either. He was the centre of her world. Everything revolved around him in a way she hadn’t quite seen until now. She’d always thought she was the one who held everything together, whom they couldn’t manage without, but it was Tom, with his humour and strength, discipline, encouragement, support and love, who made sense of it all.

He wasn’t going to leave. He’d be back at the weekend, as promised, and somehow they’d manage to sort everything out.

It was around four on Saturday afternoon when Lainey took a break from her duties at the village fete to pop home to see if Tom was there. She was so afraid he might not be that she almost tripped over in the rush of her relief when she saw his car in its usual spot. Since Max, Zav and her father were all down at the village hall, she sent a text to Max telling him to take over her stall, as she was going to be longer than she’d expected.

Finding no sign of Tom in the kitchen she went through to his study, trying desperately to ignore the terrible nerves inside her. Everything was going to be fine, she kept telling herself. The sense of rejection she was feeling wasn’t real, it was all in her head. He was back to stay, she wasn’t going to walk in and find him packing his books.

‘Hi,’ he said, looking up from his desk as she appeared in the doorway. ‘I’m sorry, I forgot about the village fete today.’

‘It’s OK,’ she replied stiffly, ‘as long as you didn’t forget it’s Tierney’s birthday.’

His eyebrows arched. ‘I’d never hear the end of it if I did,’ he responded. ‘I spoke to her first thing. I didn’t get the impression she was missing us much.’

Lainey knew she was supposed to smile, but she couldn’t quite manage it. ‘She’s very happy with her Kindle, apparently,’ she said. She wouldn’t tell him about the book she’d confiscated the other day – actually, torn up – it would serve no purpose now. ‘I downloaded a copy of
The Lost Generation
for her,’ she informed him
.

His interest was immediately piqued, and she knew he’d be remembering the last time they were in Paris, as a family, when they’d introduced the children to Shakespeare and Company, Sylvia Beach’s wonderful bookshop next to the river.
The Lost Generation
was the story behind the shop, which had fascinated Tierney at the time, and apparently delighted her when she’d found it on her Kindle this morning.

She couldn’t help wondering if he’d been in touch with Kirsten during that weekend.

Were all their memories going to be sullied now by his affair?

‘How long are you staying?’ she asked, feeling her hands clenching at her sides.

His eyes narrowed slightly at the tightness of her tone, but his own was calm as he said, ‘Look, I understand this past week can’t have been easy for you . . .’

‘Don’t patronise me,’ she snapped.

He took a breath. ‘It wasn’t my intention. I just want you to know that . . . Well, obviously I need to explain what’s happening. It’s why I’m here, so we can talk.’