The Stepmother(71)

 

Sean kisses me hello; Alison hands me chocolates from Rococo.

 

‘Can’t go wrong with truffles,’ she says rather stiffly.

 

‘No, you can’t. I love all chocolate! Thanks so much.’

 

Frank and Luke say hello and trudge upstairs. I feel Matthew tense slightly as he watches his son chattering to mine, but I’m glad they’re together.

 

‘They get on then?’ Alison asks. ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’

 

I tense, waiting for Matthew to correct her, but he doesn’t. He’s very buoyed up about something.

 

‘Champagne?’ He propels us all into the lounge, where we sit and chat until I have to check the food.

 

When I come back, the men are looking at some papers and Alison is leafing through a copy of House & Garden from the coffee table. It must be one of Kaye’s old subscriptions.

 

She looks out into the garden.

 

‘You’ve had outdoor lights put in,’ she says. ‘It’s such a lovely big space, isn’t it? You could do so much with it.’

 

‘Yes,’ I agree. ‘I’d like to get into gardening actually. I don’t know much about plants though. I’ve never really had a garden of my own.’

 

‘I could help you, if you liked,’ Alison says, and I try to hide my surprise. ‘I had my own business for a bit when I retrained.’

 

‘Oh thanks. That’d be really kind. We’ve got a gardener who comes once in a while…’

 

‘Yes, he’s very handy.’ Matthew comes over, papers in his hand, and kisses my head fondly. ‘New guy, since old Bill broke his hip – Simon something,’ He takes a pen from his pocket. ‘Hired him a few months ago. Hon, can you—’

 

‘Simon?’ My skin feels suddenly icy. ‘Are you sure? Do you know his surname?’

 

‘Not off the top of my head. Now shall we crack on?’ I hear irritation creeping into Matthew’s voice. ‘Can you just sign this please?’

 

‘Of course.’ I force a smile.

 

Matthew points at places in the documents marked with an X, and I take the pen he offers.

 

‘Signing my life away,’ I joke, and I sense Alison stiffen beside me.

 

Sean laughs and says, ‘Signing up for life, more like,’ and I look at Matthew, who seems so jolly tonight. I think, Everything might be all right – if we can overcome what I know now.

 

What lay behind the door.

 

My timer goes off, and we all go through to the dining room. The soup is very salty, and I apologise, but no one else seems to really notice. They chatter on about this and that: Matthew’s kids, their godchildren, holidays yachting and skiing. I mostly just listen. I’ve never been on a ski in my life.

 

Quiet little mouse. A safe bet.

 

I feel very thirsty as I clear away, and I wheel the hostess trolley in with the casserole and the new potatoes, feeling like the impostor someone said I was, didn’t they? But I feel quite woozy.

 

At some point during the main course, I start to feel really very odd, as if my head is too heavy for my neck and my eyelids are weighted down.

 

I stop eating and just watch the others, almost falling asleep, and then I hear Alison mention Kaye, and I say loudly, ‘Oh, Kaye, the amazing Kaye of the unmoving face – she’s wonderful, isn’t she?’

 

‘Jeanie, really.’ Matthew frowns. ‘Not now.’

 

They all look at me, and their faces are blurry and going in and out of focus, like the circus hall of mirrors. I start to laugh, and then I can’t stop, and then I think, Oh, God, I’m going to be sick.

 

‘Are you all right?’ Alison asks, and I wonder why she’s frowning.

 

And then I pass out.

 

 

 

 

 

Forty-Five

 

 

 

 

 

Jeanie

 

 

 

 

 

7 April 2015

 

 

 

 

 

8 a.m.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

I wake in the bedroom alone with the worst headache I think I’ve ever had.

 

I can barely remember last night, but I know without doubt I have disgraced myself.

 

Matthew didn’t come to bed last night. I think he said I needed space – but I also think, really, it’s space of a different kind he means.

 

I lie here, sick and mortified – and, frankly, scared. I don’t understand what the hell’s happening.