‘And what,’ I teased, ‘is the role of the wife in all this?’
He ticked off the points on his fingers. ‘A perfect, smiling willing helpmeet who wears tights. Not so bad, Fanny?’
I grinned. ‘Bit like childbirth, Mannochie. You read about it, go to the classes, practise the breathing, but the minute it happens you say to yourself, “Hey, there’s been some mistake.’”
After completing the inspection, we went back into the street. Mannochie checked over a few things with Will and said, ‘By the way, I need to talk to you about the traffic schemes. Small shopkeepers are organizing a protest. They want you on it.’
Will looked blank. ‘Sure. I’ll
‘But not take sides?’ I asked.
Will looked awkward. ‘It’s not sensible to take sides on local issues, is it, Mannochie? It’s better to stick to the national ones.’
‘You’re learning,’ said Mannochie.
We discussed the Brunton Street house as I drove Will to Westminster and agreed to take a decision that evening. I dropped him at the Houses of Parliament and continued on to the flat to begin the process of packing and clearing it out.
It was a mess, but that was no surprise. I did the washing up, watered the drooping house plant, threw out a month’s newspapers and Hoovered the sitting area.
For diversion, I rang Elaine. ‘Lovely to hear you,’ she said. ‘Let’s meet as soon as poss. I want to hear everything.’
We gossiped for a good twenty minutes and Elaine described preparations for Sophie’s coming birthday party. ‘It’s the party bags that are giving me a migraine,’ she said. ‘I’m trying to outdo Carol over the way. Rumour is there were plane tickets in hers. I’ve only got Smarties. Can I live with the shame? Am I harming my daughter for life?’
Still laughing, I rang Meg to check up on Chloe. ‘She’s fine,’ she said. ‘Just gone down for her nap.’ We discussed the weekend when Sacha would be coming to stay. ‘It’s the Giving Back I dread,’ confessed Meg, and my heart bled for her.
‘Oh well,’ she added. ‘I deserve it.’
‘Meg, don’t say that.’
‘Come on, Fanny. What do you think happened? No husband. No son, no job as yet. If ever. Dependent on a brother and his kind wife. Hardly ruling the world. But all my own fault.’
I returned to the clearing up of the flat. In America, I had resolved not to let my mind stand idle and I listened to a current affairs programme which I would later discuss with Will. This stern objective was subject to a major diversion when I caught sight of myself in the mirror, and decided I needed I really
Will phoned. ‘Just checking,’ he said, ‘…that you are there.’
I clutched the dust-pan brush to my chest. ‘I’m here.’
‘I’ll be a bit late, but not too late.’
‘Good.’
‘Miss me?’
‘Miss you.’
Next on the list in the flat was the bedroom. I switched the radio to a music programme which was playing Beethoven’s Fifth, whipped the sheets off the bed and gathered them up.
Something fell to the floor.
My knees buckled and I sat down on the bed.
Lying on the floor was a plain, white silk camisole, and it did not belong to me.
When Will arrived – a little late, but not too late – I was waiting with a meal and an open bottle of wine. The flat was immaculate and the washing machine churned in the background.
I allowed him to kiss my cheek.
He was excited and wanted to tell me about the Bill they were pushing through the House. ‘It’s not perfect, Fanny, but it’s a big step forward and we’re in a hurry to get things done.’
That is what I had been. In a hurry to marry Will.
He poured out a glass of wine. ‘Better still, there’s a whisper of a vacancy in the whips’ office, and my name has been mentioned.’
‘And give up your independence?’
He ruffled his hair. ‘It’s the only way, you know. You can’t do it by muttering on the back benches. To get things done, you have to be out front. And a way up is through the whips’ office.’ He slapped his hand down on the table. ‘I’m starving. Can we eat?’
I faced him across the cutlery and china. ‘Will, who have you had here?’
He started. ‘Why?’
‘Because I found underwear in our bed.’
Will went chalk white. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘You tell me.’
Did I want him to deny it, vehemently, convincingly, so that I could allow myself to believe him? Or would I prefer him to look me straight in the eyes and say, I have been unfaithful.
I did not know the answer. Each came with a terrible burden of pain or suspicion.
‘Who is she?’
Eventually, Will said, ‘It must have been Liz.’
‘There’s a choice?’
‘She’s a researcher and I said she could crash out here after she’d worked late one night.’
‘Don’t lie.’
He looked away. ‘All right. No lies. No more lies.’
‘When?’
‘You want the details?’
I looked down at the floor which I had swept so blithely that morning. ‘Perhaps not.’
Will put his hand over his eyes. ‘What have I done?’
The sounds in the flat – the muted gurgle of a water pipe, the washing machine – seemed very loud. ‘In
‘I’m sorry.’
‘About our bed, or what you did in it?’
Will flinched. ‘I deserve that.’
There was a long, long silence. ‘I had a couple of whiskies,’ he said. ‘I don’t know why. I, of all people… should know.’
There was a click. The boiler switched off and, with it, I felt something die in me… the trust, absolute and unquestioning, I’d had reposed in Will.
I felt so foolish, so naive, so ill-fitting.
‘Will,’ I whispered. ‘Had you grown tired of me? We haven’t been married that long.’
‘It wasn’t like that, Fanny. I can’t explain. I have no excuse but, in a strange way, it was nothing to do with you.’
‘How can we continue after this?’
He dropped his head into his hands. ‘Please don’t say that.’
‘What am I supposed to say? What would you have said if it had been me?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I just know I would have been desperate.’
‘Well?’ I moved in the chair experimentally, because every move I made seemed to hurt. ‘It might have been different if we had been married for a long time.’
‘No, it wouldn’t,’ he muttered.
‘It was all so easy,’ I burst out. ‘I go away with your daughter, and you leap at the opportunity… to enjoy
