But now he felt even more sure that not telling Kate everything was the best course of action. No need to confess the whole story right now, he could simply tell her that he needed some time away. It was kind of true. Claire never had to know about it, yet it would give him a bit more time to work through the doubts in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more appealing the idea seemed to him. There would be no tears and recriminations, not right now anyway, no ceremonious goodbyes.
No, on the day he was due to leave, he’d simply pack a few clothes and toiletries, leave Kate a note and go. He’d withdrawn some money from their ISA already, which Kate never checked, and would just deposit it back in if he came home again. Deep down he knew he was putting off the inevitable, but he didn’t care right now. All he had to do was to act as normal as possible for two more weeks. It wasn’t too difficult – they’d survived Greece and the one good thing about having a wife who you never confided in anymore was that it was easy to hide even the biggest secret.
Claire seemed to have got over her annoyance too. When he saw her for the first time after Greece she’d barely even asked him about it, wanting only to focus on their own upcoming travel plans. She’d won after all, he thought, she’d got what she wanted. She wasn’t interested in knowing about the intricacies of their family holiday, only that he had come home to her and that he still wanted to move to France.
They continued making plans and slowly he started to feel excited again, as he always did when he was in her company, like young lovers planning to run away to Gretna Green together. They decided to get the Eurostar so that they could spend a few days together in Paris first. ‘Where else to start our amazing new adventure than in the most romantic city in the world?’ Claire had said.
Behind her, on the wall, he saw she had been crossing off the days until they left on her French art calendar. Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve, the countdown was on. And still he was trapped between the two women in his life, not being completely honest with either of them and not entirely sure if he was being honest with himself either.
22
Claire
They’d been together for a few months when she broached the idea of moving to France with Pete. She’d always dreamed of leaving the rat-race of London behind and going to live somewhere remote and beautiful, setting up her own B&B business to make some money. She’d adored her dad’s place in France and often dreamed of what it would be like to live there, but when he died she was heartbroken and couldn’t bring herself to visit it again, even though it had been left to her. She hated the idea of it falling into disrepair, yet every time she steeled herself to go and started looking at flights, an image of her dad sitting in his favourite chair, smoking a pipe and doing a crossword came into her mind and she just couldn’t go through with it. The thought of walking into that empty, abandoned house and knowing that he wouldn’t be there was too much for her to handle.
But since she’d been with Pete, she’d started dreaming of them going there together. Somehow it felt more bearable with him by her side. She was in love with him, she knew that now. She’d tried to fight it, to tell herself that he was married and that it was just about sex, but it was a battle she was never going to win. She’d never really been in love before, she’d had plenty of boyfriends but they’d all come to nothing, usually because she got bored and decided to move on. But Pete was different. She didn’t know if it was because he was more mature, because she was older and ready to settle down or if they were just a good match, but she was desperate to be with this man and being his bit on the side was no longer enough for her.
She wasn’t stupid: she knew that the majority of married men who had affairs never actually left their wives and she wasn’t naïve or arrogant enough to think that her situation was any different. But it can’t hurt to ask, she told herself. And if it all went tits up, she could just move to France on her own and get on with her life.
Sometimes she thought of Pete’s wife and children, continuing to live their lives completely unaware of this other life that Pete was living with another woman, and she would feel a pang of guilt and remorse. But then she reminded herself that the marriage was already unhappy, already broken, before she came along. And, she told herself, it was better for the children to have two happy, divorced parents than to have two miserable, together parents. She wasn’t particularly maternal and had no interest in having children of her own but she’d make an effort with the kids, build a relationship with them and encourage Pete to spend time with them as much as possible. This would help to alleviate her guilt at what she was
